Remembering Grandma Jennie

A tribute to my Mom

“Jennie” (Lucille Mae Vartanian) Bilezikian

10/08/1917 – 11/30/1991

by

Martha Mae (Bilezikian Atikian) McCool

MY FOND MEMORIES OF OUR MOM (MUMMY), ARE AS CLEAR TODAY AS THEY WERE THROUGHOUT OUR CHILDHOOD.

Our Mom was a wonderful, fun loving, caring, patient, and warm hearted mother and friend who also possessed incredible culinary expertise! 

Mom was ahead of her time during the 1940’s and 1950’s, always selecting the freshest fruits and vegetables (during the summer from Dad’s organic garden in our large back yard), and preparing wholesome meals all cooked from scratch. 

Mummy’s apple pies were memorable.  She made her crusts from scratch, the flakiest ever, and the apples were picked fresh from our back yard / organic apple trees.  In fact, many of the members of the Women’s Education Club were envious of Mom’s talents.  It was always noted that the meetings held at our home had the greatest in attendance; the ladies always lingered, hoping for either a recipe, or a sliver of pie to take home to hubby!!

I distinctly remember when my maternal grandmother traveled from California to Massachusetts to enjoy the summer with us, she was astonished and even heartlessly admonished Mom for wasting time by not utilizing frozen packages of veggies, and adding water to cake mixes!!

Mummy enrolled in Drivers-Education” in the late 1950’s while we were in elementary school, and a short time later, she was awarded her driver’s license.  Once she earned the badge of “Chauffer”, she took great pride in taking us shopping, or for a spin throughout Newton and the surrounding areas . . . I even remember some of those Newton High School Boys tooting and waving at us . . . she was adorable behind that wheel and could have easily passed for the beauty queen at Newton High School North.

Mom was a good sport, as well.   Periodically, Dad used to take the 3 of us (kids) fishing to have fun but also to give Mom a few hours of peace and quiet (usually on a beautiful Sunday afternoon) and enjoy the day without the commotion of 3 children.  The ironic part is that we would invariably return home with an enormous water filled bucket containing our “catch of the day” enjoying their last swim during the car ride back home.   Little did those fish know that our good hearted Dad would leave the fish preparation for Mummy.  In those days,  I guess it was considered “Man’s work”  to catch the fish, and “women’s work” to clean, scale, and cook the fresh catch of the day!!!

As we entered college, Mummy always encouraged us to bring friends home for Sunday dinner.  As I recall, the dining-room table was always extended in order to accommodate everyone comfortably!   News of our hospitable family spread and friends always looked forward to visiting.

Mummy was the perfect role model.  She was a devoted mother and wife, and passionate about her responsibilities to raise us properly, in a very good home environment.  She set a wonderful example for us to follow and she was greatly loved.   She was always there for encouragement and to lend a helping hand.  Mummy was consistently cheerful and good hearted; we feel fortunate to have had such a terrific Mom.

Virgins in Paradise.

Whenever the newscasters would state with great assurance that the reason the atrocities by Muslim fanatics were occurring in the Middle East was that the atrocitiers (a word?) were promised the reward of virgins in paradise, Peter (who had been happily married for 50 years and by 9/11, was 90 years old) would query, "Who wants virgins, anyway?", leaving his adult children somewhat in shock!

Bechamel Sauce is Easy? Not as easy as Turkey Soup!

Here's a recipe from Marash Girl's long-time friend, a friend who hails from Manchester, England, and now lives in Brooklyn Heights.

Andrea's recipe for a quick and easy yet fancy dinner of "left-overs" is to cover everything with Béchamel.  This is how she told Marash Girl to make the sauce.

2 T butter/flour
1 c milk w/ broth
Dash salt (Marash Girl assumes)
Simmer till thickened.
Pour over cooked turkey and white onions with rice.

Now it couldn't be that simple, and Marash Girl has yet to try it.

Instead, Marash Girl threw all the roasted turkey parts (skin, bones and all) -- anything that had not been eaten -- into a pot, covered the mix with fresh cold water, added a dash of white vinegar, and boiled for one hour.  Following that, she poured off the broth, added the veggies on the fresh veggie platter that had not been eaten (cauliflower, broccoli, carrots, celery, mushrooms) and simmered those in the broth until those were soft.  She cooled the lot down a bit, blended it up in the Cuisinart 'til smooth.  Poured the mixture back into the pot, brought it slowly to a simmer, added whole milk to thin it up a bit, and served.  What a delicious "cream" soup that was!  Not a drop left!

Cream For The Coffee!

Adrien Casey, NYC artist and long-time neighborhood friend of son Deron, had moved back to the 'hood for the coming year.  Seeing him on Eldridge Street after many a year, Marash Girl invited him to join the family for Thanksgiving dinner, and as all good folks do, he asked, "What can I bring?"  Having all the bases covered, Marash Girl could think of nothing she needed . . . except for All Natural Organic Cream for coffee . . . No problem, Adrien replied with a grin!  And sure enough, Thanksgiving morning, Adrien arrived with the all natural cream for Thanksgiving coffee.  (See below!)

Giving Thanks on Thanksgiving Day

Marash Girl gives thanks on this Thanksgiving day for the Native Americans without whom no Pilgrim would have survived.

The Day Before Thanksgiving

You don't really expect Marash Girl to be writing more than one sentence today, do you?  After all, it's the day before Thanksgiving, and she's busy preparing goodies for all you guys who are coming over!  (Well, there you are: two sentences!)

Up On the Rooftop . . . Without Santa and his Reindeer!

The beginning of the holiday season sent fear through the hearts of the residents of Maple Avenue as "Santa's Helpers" worked their magic on the roof of a 150 year old Victorian home in Newton, Massachusetts. Photo by Marash Girl

Coarse Sanding Sugar

"The icing on the Cake"  -- Do you remember that expression?  It was used in both a positive manner and a negative manner in the 1950's.  Grandma Jennie always added the icing to the cake -- frosting that, as Marash Girl remembers, was made primarily of Crisco and sugar.   Not to hurt Grandma Jennie's feelings,Grandpa Peter always ate the cake after  he had carefully removed the icing.  Perhaps he knew, even then, that fat and sugar on top of Grandma Jennie's home-baked cake was not the healthiest comestible.  Perhaps that's why he almost reached 100 years of age.

The expression, "That's the icing on the cake!" -- popular in the 1940's and early 1950's --  (do folks still use the expression?) actually had a negative connotation -- something added that was not necessary, and that, in fact, made the situation a whole lot worse.

Funny how something sweet can become something sour.

All that as background to suggest that, in this more health conscious time, should we still choose to bake cakes, we can avoid "the icing on the cake" -- both the work of making it, and the "work" of eating it.  Simply sprinkle coarse sanding sugar (uncolored) over the top of cake batter before baking.  Remove that cake from the oven, and your cake will sparkle!  No fat or Crisco needed.

Marash Girl's Favorite: Banana Cake

Okay, so Marash Girl was planning to make Banana Cake for Thanksgiving.  But what to do?  No rotten (or more delicately put,  "overripe") bananas were available anywhere.  How would she make her famous Banana Cake without rotten bananas?  And where can one find rotten bananas?  Certainly not at any of the supermarkets.  Now what?

I suppose they could rewrite the song, "Yes, we have no bananas" (One of Grandpa Peter's favorite songs  . . .  a song sung by Eddie Cantor, a song which became a musical hit in 1923) to read, "Yes, we have no rotten bananas!"

But seriously . . . if you want to make a decent Banana Cake, you need rotten bananas!  Well, Marash Girl, you still have a few days left before Thanksgiving.  Maybe you'll find those special bananas you seek  . . . But where?

Grandma Jennie & Arlene Francis

Recently Marash Girl sold Arlene Francis's ARLENE FRANCIS, A MEMOIR. (You know that Marash Girl sells out-of-print books on the internet, right?)  Why should that sale call to mind her mother Jennie?  Because Arlene Francis was a household word when Marash Girl was growing up.

Marash Girl's mother Jennie (born Lucille Mae Vartanian) always spoke of Arlene Francis with great pride. Yes, Arlene Francis was a well-known actress and popular television personality in the 1940's and 1950's.  But that was not all.  Arlene Francis was born Arlene Francis Kazanjian on Oct. 20, 1907, in Boston, Massachusetts. (Her father, Aram Kazanjian, was studying art in Paris at the age of 16 when he learned that both his parents had been massacred  by the Turks   during the 1894-1896 Armenian massacres. The same massacre that murdered both of Marash Girl's  great grandparents --  her father's mother's parents -- and her mother's mother's fiancee!) Arlene Francis' dad Aram Kazanjian  became a painter and portrait photographer, an Armenian immigrant to the United States  who married Leah Davis (daughter of actor Alfred Davis).

Despite the fact that Arlene Francis had changed her last name, all Armenians in the United States knew and took pride in the fact that Arlene Francis was of Armenian descent.  Arlene Francis was Armenian (at least half) and was a world famous actress.  Jennie identified with Arlene.  Jennie loved to sing, play the piano by ear as she sang the popular songs of the day, dance (despite the fact that Grandpa Peter had promised his mother that he would never dance -- and always kept that promise). Jennie laughed and loved life and people.   Never a cross word; never a negative comment.  She was the happiest woman Marash Girl has ever known.  

Arlene Francis became known for her aphorism, "Life is the best party I've ever been  invited to."

Jennie could have written that line!  She actually may have!

Through the Supermarkets the Week Before Thanksgiving

Marash Girl never could figure out why Grandma Jennie felt she got plenty of exercise simply going  shopping at the supermarkets.  That is, not until today.  Marash Girl would avoid the crowds and shop today.  Starting at Whole Foods for organically grown cranberries and organically grown oranges  (so she could make her famous all natural pesticide-free cranberry relish for Thanksgiving --  for recipe, see Marash Girl's post for Wednesday, November 21, 2012, "Happy Thanksgiving with Fresh Cranberry Orange Relish -- Raw Foodies, Take Note!"), and  all natural, organic (there is such a thing) ice cream.  Great!  perfect for adding to the pies and cakes that would be served on Thanksgiving Day.  But she needed V-8 Juice for her special style of making boulghour pilaf, so she headed to the Star Market, but they were all out.  Oh, well, while she was there she would buy her favorite all natural gingerale (to make her cranberry gingerale punch) but there was no Polar Gingerale, either.  So off to Target for sundries . . . and who knew?  A whole section of groceries. They had V-8 Juice AND Polar Gingerale. . . And even more walking! And no crowds!

Grandma Jennie was right! Plenty of exercise.  It felt like a good two miles . . . without the fresh air and beautiful maple trees, of course.

Jack Frost Has Arrived

Marash Girl was not in the mood to greet Jack Frost yesterday morning when she found that he had painted her automobile's windshield white with frozen stuff.  Yes, he's here, greet him or not; here to stay for a good five months.  Thank goodness we have the holidays to cheer us up because without them, whatever would we do?  My friend, Nurse Nancy, tells me the malady we all feel is called "seasonal depression".  Perhaps the season should be called the season of the depressed! Do folks in the southwest have seasonal depression as well?

Wedding on the Mind

So here it is, one week before Thanksgiving, and instead of worrying about cooking and preparing for Thanksgiving, Marash Girl is heading for the Big Apple to help her first-born daughter select a wedding dress!  What could be more fun than that?  I ask you, ladies and gentlemen!!!!

Mayor Setti Warren appoints new Chief of Police

Congratulations to Captain David MacDonald, newly appointed Chief of Police, Newton, Massachusetts, and to the Police of Newton, Massachusetts, who have kept us safe all these years!

How can we forgive something that "never happened"?

Marash Girl has long been saying to those who would make peace with Turkey and forgive Turkey's atrocities -- atrocities such as the Armenian Genocide -- "How can we forgive something that never happened?" Please, my Armenian brothers and sisters who read these words, before you start screaming, understand the irony in the statement!  Has Turkey ever admitted to this 20th Century crime against humanity?

This past Saturday, the New York Times echoed Marash Girl's sentiments:

"The reverberations from Turkey’s troubled birth and the years preceding it persist. The 1915 Armenian genocide remains unacknowledged by Turkey even though Germany’s president, in this centennial year, spoke of German complicity. Joachim Gauck said: “We Germans collectively still have to come to terms with the past, namely when it comes to shared responsibility and perhaps even complicity in the genocide of the Armenians.”

It is for Turkey to answer how Germany could be complicit in a crime that did not exist."  New York Times, Nov. 12, 2015:  Turkey Haunted by its Ghosts

Having trouble sleeping?

Don't count sheep!  Count your blessings!

An Introvert?

While at Starbucks yesterday, Marash Girl overheard a stranger -- a woman -- talking to a friend,  describing herself in detail, loudly, nonstop.  After about 15 minutes of this, the woman announced, "I'm definitely an introvert!"  Marash Girl wanted to chime in, "Really?"  but she restrained herself.

Winter's on its way to Martha's Vineyard!

    You know winter is on its way when you see this sign at the 

     On-Time Ferry in Edgartown, Martha's Vineyard, Massachusetts!

(The famous Chappaquidick Island in the background.)

Happy Birthday to Marash Girl's First Born!

Her favorite doll was Bobby Shafto, and her favorite first foods were Hearts of Palm!  She looked just like the Gerber baby! She's Armenian all right, but everyone who saw her wanted to know if she was Irish!  Why?  She's 3/4 Marashtsi and 1/4 Ainteptsi and her great great grandmother on her grandmother's father's side was considered the most beautiful woman in Aintep.  She looks just like that grandmother!  and that makes for a beautiful, blue-eyed blonde Armenian baby (and woman).  Add to that the fact that she's one of the foremost cardio-vascular physiologists in the United States and one of the kindest and most giving persons that Marash Girl knows, and there you have it.  Oh, and humble, so she's made me promise not to mention her name.  If you know her, wish her a happy birthday! Gotta go now; Marash Girl is making choereg for the birthday celebration tonight.  Shhh . . . Don't tell!

#FightFor15

Walking through the Boston Common with Lorig's friend, Erricka, headed to the African-American Historic Trail on Beacon Hill, we came across a protest, so we stopped and asked what it was all about. The strikers were food retail workers fighting for $15/hr minimum wage. It was the national day to strike. Workers all over America did not go to work yesterday; they were in the streets protesting:  #FightFor15

Walking through the Boston Common with Lorig's friend, Erricka, headed to the African-American Historic Trail on Beacon Hill, we came across a protest, so we stopped and asked what it was all about. The strikers were food retail workers fighting for $15/hr minimum wage. It was the national day to strike. Workers all over America did not go to work yesterday; they were in the streets protesting:  #FightFor15

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Walking through the Boston Common with Lorig's friend, Erricka, headed to the African-American Historic Trail on Beacon Hill, we came across a protest, so we stopped and asked what it was all about. The strikers were food retail workers fighting for $15/hr minimum wage. It was the national day to strike. Workers all over America did not go to work yesterday; they were in the streets protesting:  #FightFor15

Walking through the Boston Common with Lorig's friend, Erricka, headed to the African-American Historic Trail on Beacon Hill, we came across a protest, so we stopped and asked what it was all about. The strikers were food retail workers fighting for $15/hr minimum wage. It was the national day to strike. Workers all over America did not go to work yesterday; they were in the streets protesting:  #FightFor15

Walking through the Boston Common with Lorig's friend, Erricka, headed to the African-American Historic Trail on Beacon Hill, we came across a protest, so we stopped and asked what it was all about. The strikers were food retail workers fighting for $15/hr minimum wage. It was the national day to strike. Workers all over America did not go to work yesterday; they were in the streets protesting:  #FightFor15

Walking through the Boston Common with Lorig's friend, Erricka, headed to the African-American Historic Trail on Beacon Hill, we came across a protest, so we stopped and asked what it was all about. The strikers were food retail workers fighting for $15/hr minimum wage. It was the national day to strike. Workers all over America did not go to work yesterday; they were in the streets protesting:  #FightFor15

Walking through the Boston Common with Lorig's friend, Erricka, headed to the African-American Historic Trail on Beacon Hill, we came across a protest, so we stopped and asked what it was all about. The strikers were food retail workers fighting for $15/hr minimum wage. It was the national day to strike. Workers all over America did not go to work yesterday; they were in the streets protesting:  #FightFor15

Walking through the Boston Common with Lorig's friend, Erricka, headed to the African-American Historic Trail on Beacon Hill, we came across a protest, so we stopped and asked what it was all about. The strikers were food retail workers fighting for $15/hr minimum wage. It was the national day to strike. Workers all over America did not go to work yesterday; they were in the streets protesting:  #FightFor15

Walking through the Boston Common with Lorig's friend, Walking through the Boston Common with Lorig's friend Erricka, headed to the African-American Historic Trail on Beacon Hill, Marash Girl came across a protest, so they stopped and asked what it was all about. The strikers were food retail workers fighting for $15/hr minimum wage. It was the national day to strike. Workers all over America did not go to work yesterday; they were in the streets protesting:  #FightFor15