Summer, Revisited

Los Angeles, California

Awhile back, I stopped using the term middle-aged to describe myself after Billy uttered the infamous line: How many people do you know who live to 104? It was a rude upbraid, as it was sad but true. The good news was that in moving on to that next, awkward stage of life (too old to be middle-aged and too young to be a senior citizen), I now had an excuse for my faltering short-term memory. But I cannot blame my memory issues on the fact that I have fallen short of my contract with myself to write at least two blogposts a month. It is now long past August, though I will ultimately post this for that month. Cheating? Yes. But, I mean really, what is a contract with yourself truly worth? To toy with the quote from Sam Goldwyn: It is probably not worth the the paper it is written upon.

After the trip to Glenbrook I settled back down to summer as I know it. The Dodgers were continuing to do well, breaking records while they streaked from last place to first. I enjoyed the warm summer nights that I have always loved since I was a child. It was now time to dance salsa outside at The Autry Museum -- something that comes each summer through the months of July and August. I hosted a Las Chicas Pool day with DG and LOL.  And I visited my mom frequently, now at her new board and care facility.


My mom's careworkers and her home health nurse reported to me that she was having headaches and earaches. There was a lot of postulating as to what was causing these. The facilitators thought she might have an ear infection or a wax build-up in her ears. But on one of my visits to her, I noticed that her pain was topical, not inside the ear nor inside her head. When you touched her skin, she jumped. Obviously, it hurt a lot. And that got me thinking.

While she had been in the skilled nursing facility, she had suddenly developed a rash on her face. It was on one side, on her forehead, down the bridge of her nose, and around onto her cheek, more or less circling her left eye. That is her good eye (she has only had 5% vision in her right eye since childhood, a result of what is called Lazy Eye Syndrome which had gone untreated). When I asked the charge nurse about the rash, she commented that it looked like bug bites. And being someone who tends to defer to authority, I accepted that.

But now, a month later, I reported my suspicions to the doctor. Could it have been shingles? I pointed out where you could still see redness from the lesions, which the doctor tapped. She levitated at the pain. At that point, he agreed that clinically it appeared that she had suffered from herpes zoster while in the facility.

Shortly after that, the caregivers reported that she was having vision problems so she was taken to her ophthalmologist, who in turn sent her to a retinal specialist who diagnosed inflammation in the eye. I told him about the shingles, and he immediately put her on steroid eyedrops, and the antiviral medication, Valtrex. I did my usual response to that. I take Valtrex, I exclaimed. Then I immediately pointed to my lower lip and added, for cold sores!!! Somehow I have never been quite able to master that TMI thing.

And after that, summer continued (the Dodgers continued to do well). We were now at about six weeks after her shingles outbreak, and all was mostly right with the world…Thank you coming back to read my blog!

Billy Loves Salmon

Los Angeles, California

I was going to entitle this post Coming Clean, and confess to my dishonesty. Then I realized, I'm a pretty honest person -- even to a fault, one could say. Do I occasionally embellish my stories? You betcha. Have I been known to stretch the truth, or perhaps slant it for my own devices? Ok, yeah. But do I ever outright lie? Not as a rule, and only if I can cover it by claiming I was being ironic. Truth is that, recently, Billy has NOT been loving  salmon. In fact, in recent years he has developed almost an aversion to it.

This was startling to me, as we used to eat a lot of salmon. It was our go-to fish. On a trip to various islands around the Puget Sound, we ate salmon almost every night. And I would say that until Billy developed his issue with salmon, roasted salmon was served at Casa Healy about as often as roast chicken, which is saying a lot. We used to coat a large filet of salmon (with the skin on) with lemon oil, salt & pepper, then roast it in a large cast iron skillet, surrounded by sliced fennel and onion, and some sprigs of rosemary. The skin crisped up, and the roasted salmon and vegetables were fragrant and delicious. Unfortunately, the cast iron pan also got crispy, and Billy and I had some vociferous discussions about how it should be cleaned (Bronte: never immerse / Billy: scrub with abrasives underwater / Bronte: now I have to re-season the freakin' pan). This might even have been the genesis for Billy's aversion, though he is not, as a rule, somatic by nature.

Anyway, Billy stopped eating salmon. I tried preparing it a couple more times, but the most he could muster was a bite or two. When I prepared it for myself a few times before going out to dance, he tried it again but said that even the aroma of it was sickening to him. Then, earlier this summer he tried cold, poached salmon and he was ok with it. I just needed to find a good recipe with a new technique, and here it is:

Cold Poached Salmon With Mustard-Lime Sauce

6 cups               water
2 1/2 cups       dry white wine
6 (7-8 oz.)        center-cut salmon fillets, skinned
Quatre Epice*

1 cup                  sour cream
6 tablespoons Dijon mustard
4 teaspoons     honey
1 teaspoon        grated lime peel

Finely sliced fresh basil

Pour 3 cups water and 1 1/4 cups wine into each of 2 large skillets. Bring to a boil; turn off heat. Season salmon with quatre epice. Place 3 fillets in each skillet; let stand 6 minutes. Turn salmon over in liquid; let stand 5 minutes. Bring liquid in skillets just to simmer; cook until salmon is just cooked through, about 30 seconds. Using slotted spatula, remove salmon and place on platter or large plate. Cover and refrigerate until cold, at least 1 hour.

Stir sour cream, mustard, lime juice, honey and lime peel in bowl to blend. Cover; chill until cold, at least 1 hour.  Can be made 1 day ahead. Keep refrigerated.

Arrange salmon on plates. Drizzle with sauce; top with basil. Serve, passing remaining sauce separately.

6 servings

That is the recipe, as I found it on Epicurious; originally coming from Bon Appetit magazine circa 1995. And it was pretty good as is. Just a couple of points. I think I would tweek the sauce a little. Maybe use creme fraiche or even cut the sour cream with good mayonaise. I might go for chopped tarragon instead of the basil. We used really good wild salmon from Santa Monica Seafood (our best local purveyor). The night before I made this, a friend of mine informed  me that I should only buy/eat wild salmon. I love it when my friends treat me like the village idiot. But she is a beloved, good friend, and maybe I am the village idiot, so we'll let it go at that.

*and lastly, Quatre Epice is called by its translation: French Four Spice (forgive me if I am treating you like the village idiot). The variety I have is excellent and is from Penzey's spices, their website is to be found here.

I made this for a Hollywood Bowl picnic, and four of us seemed to enjoy it. Most importantly, Billy did fine and dandy with this cold poached salmon. In fact, he said he loved it. Awww, he loves it (cold); he loves it not (hot). So, come to think of it, I didn't lie after all: Billy loves salmon. That's what he said. Thank you for tuning in and reading my blog.