Los Angeles, California
But. Then. In the midst of all of this, Brendan and Diana came to stay, as they have done every summer since...a while back. We've tried to figure it out, and have decided that it's been about a decade since their first visit here. The first two years, they brought their lovely daughters, who were high school and college-aged. Then they began coming a deux.
Since shortly after Diana and I became friends, after meeting on a cruise ship where we had been assigned as dining tablemates along with our moms and my errant sibling, I labeled Diana and her family as family, but in a good way. And I feel that the most when they are sharing our home. They remind me of some of the best times I have had with family.
From the time when Billy and I bought our first home, my parents would often join us for dinner. We lived about ten minutes away from each other, and often those dinners were last minute throw-togethers. We had a nice patio at our first, small house, and bought our dining room table a few years after we purchased the house. Up until that time we were using a table made from an industrial spool, which my boyfriend (*see ex-fiance--I'm kidding there is no reference to this, so far...) had finished for my use. It was popular to use these as coffee tables, but I had a marble coffee table which had been my grandparents', so what I really needed was a dining table, since I was already cooking up a storm. But I digress, once again, to the past...
The best part of having family over is that you are already in a familiar pattern. You know what everyone drinks and what they will or won't eat. We were a family who set a good table with cloth napkins and decent glassware. During this time, my eclectic period, my glassware, silverware, napkins, and even plates were carefully mismatched, by design. I was already collecting table linens, and napkin rings (which I have ceased to use). And I was cooking from The Silver Palate, Gourmet, and Bon Appetit, as we all were at that time.
When we moved to our current home, which was about twenty to twenty-five minutes from my parents home, the parties continued. We now had a large courtyard in the shade of a gigantic old oak tree. Billy and one of our male guests (often my brother-in-law), would move our dining room table out onto the courtyard, and we would dine under the oak tree. Our homage to Tuscany. And it was a magically fun time.
When the oak tree went down, we pondered what to do. That oak tree was about a century old, and we could not replace it with a tree even a quarter of that size, plus there was a root fungus in the ground which would make it risky to plant any tree in that location. Our house is U-shaped and lined with french doors which all looked out to the tree as a focal point. I missed the tree desperately, but I saw water there. We talked about a pool, but Billy was hesitant. I persevered. I told him if he didn't want a swimming pool, we should install some kind of a shallow water feature. I had it in my mind's eye. We consulted a pool contractor who designed a small, narrow pool for us--only 10x28, and edged in the same terra cotta tile as had around the courtyard. We built and finished it in 2001, and our friends arrived with their daughters a year or two after.
What I love about having Brendan and Diana as house guests is that, like with family, we fall into an easy routine. This year, they arrived on July 4th, coordinating with our plan to have all of the pre-visit prep done by the evening before. Of course that didn't happen, but we were close. By the time they arrived, we were in our swimsuits and ready to hold down the teak lounge chairs at the far end of the pool--an extension of the pool area supported by a retaining wall on our hill. OK, too much information, I'm thinking...
We hung out by the pool all day. This is what we do every day during their visit. We eat a mid-afternoon lunch in the style of tapas or mezes (which Billy calls snackies). As the sun dips, we go inside to shower and dress. Cocktails on the patio, followed by an easy dinner, eaten by candlelight. Then we go inside and play cards until early in the morning. There is usually cake involved. Later, off we go off to bed, to rise easily and on our own schedule in the morning, pouring coffee or tea and wandering back out to the patio to hang around, chatting and laughing, before a late (very) breakfast. And then to the pool...
We laugh a lot with Brendan and Diana. And we talk, and share, and eat, and drink. And for the past two years, we pay pool basketball. They brought the hoop and balls last year. Not that we're competitive with all this card playing and basketball lobbing. We're as happy when someone else wins as when we do. Well, almost...
So now, July has passed, and it will be another year before B&D come to visit us again. Then, once again we'll toast, and talk; laugh, and light candles. What with all of the sadness and upheaval in my life, it is sustaining to have these events to count upon and eagerly await. One thing I know for sure is that a year goes so fast these days, and soon it will be July again--the same time, next year. Thank you for reading my blog, and thanks for the memories, D&B!
August 5, 2011
That was a bit of a long respite, but trust me, I was not lounging around on a chaise complaining about the summer heat a la Daisy Buchanan. We was busy. After house guests over the 4th of July, we scurried around, got our best outfits together and hied (again, with the hying!) ourselves down to Rancho Valencia for Jenna and Todd's wedding.
Jenna is a previous pilates partner, and daughter of Bonnie who is my current partner and frister extraordinaire. Bonnie is the go-to person amongst all her friends. Need a tree-trimmer, as we did recently? Call Bonnie. Contractor? Ditto, Bonnie. Planning a wedding? No one, I repeat, no one will do it better than Bonnie. It was fantabulous, and we had the proverbial time of our lives, including dancing our legs off -- even Billy!
After the wedding weekend, I had a multiple of salsa events including a salsa birthday party for Christina Haggarty, who is half of my favorite teaching duo. I also hosted Las Chicas, the frister trio, at my house for a day-in-the-country (tongue firmly in cheek) pool day. Then, we attended an anniversary party with music provided by a Beatles cover band. Again, with the dancing. The following morning we left for Glenbrook.
Now, Glenbrook is one of my favorite places. It is nestled at the east end, on the Nevada side, of Lake Tahoe. I would love Glenbrook no matter why we were there, but what made this visit so special was that we were going to see Sandra and John. And Sandra is doing GREAT! So, more about Glenbrook. Glenbrook is one of those idyllic places where the kids can still run free all day. It is private and enclosed. People live there year round, or like Sandra and John, have summer/weekend homes there. It's out of the hubbub of the South Shore, quiet, contained, and stunningly beautiful. While studying Spanish at ISSI (see previous post entitled Paella and Caesar, available here . . . . . . la la la la la) three years ago, I stayed in one of the guest rooms in the guest house on Sandra and John's property there. Sandra and I drove to South Lake Tahoe Community College each morning, arriving on campus just before 8:00 and hurrying to our class. Each day when we returned around 4:00, we would arrive at Glenbrook and hook around on the road that leads to their home. When we would first see the lake, I would feel myself sigh and relax. It's one of those places.
But, what does all this have to do with two bowls of cereal, you might very well ask. Well, last summer, when we were at Glenbrook, Sandra and John's son and his family were there. We were all staying in the main house together, and each morning I noticed that their daughter-in-law, Tracy, would prep breakfast for the kids, then quietly pour herself two bowls of cereal. She would pour milk into one of the bowls and proceed to eat from it. But before she finished it, she would pour milk into the second bowl, and switch to eating from that one. What was up? Turns out that she doesn't like soggy cereal, and this is what she has figured out to make sure all the cereal she eats stays crisp. I like this method of problem solving. No muss, no fuss.
Recently, I poured milk over my daily mix which is comprised of two cereals with something extra added on the weekends, usually La Brea Bakery granola, but sometimes cinnamon graham crackers from Trader Joe's. I run my bowl of cereal all over the house. It sits next to the computer while I am working. It travels with me to the bedroom, keeping me company while I make the bed. It even accompanies me to my bathroom dressing table where I apply make-up. Cereal for me in the morning? A soggy, movable feast. And I like it like that.
Which brings me to: Graham Cracker Mush. I know that, strictly speaking, it is time for a recipe. But with all this running around, plus a recent onslaught of humidity here in LA whilst our air conditioning struggled with a bout of ennui, I'm frankly too tired and hot to even think about recipes and cooking.
However . . .
I deem Graham Cracker Mush to be a perfectly legitimate dish, it having once been written up in Gourmet magazine (I also have a clipped recipe from the selfsame Gourmet, for Frito Nachos, which originated at the lunch counter of the now-defunct Woolworth's which was located on the plaza in Santa Fe, NM. This dish actually served in a butterflied Fritos bag. Yep. You should fully expect that I will get back to that sometime in a later post!) Both recipes came from the old Gourmet, not the last incarnation which would have demanded that you could provide documentation as to where the graham flour was grown and milled, and further, that you had been introduced to the cow before it was milked (milk being one-half of the ingredients in Graham Cracker Mush.
Graham Cracker Mush was one of those Tracy-style methods of problem solving. Ostensibly, it started with dipping graham crackers into milk. Sometime after, it was determined that, for some, the dipped soaked-in-milk part was better than the still-crisp part that you, by necessity, were holding. If you threw the whole graham cracker into the glass, you would need something like a fork to pull it out. And drippiness would probably be an issue. So, someone (not my grandmother, though she was the one who introduced me to this) figured out that the best way to do this was to throw the grahams into a bowl and douse them with milk. The way my grandmother did this was by breaking the crackers into, say, nickel and quarter-sized pieces. But in the Gourmet article (was it the wondrous Laurie Colwin who wrote it? Probably not, but it was in her era), they tried buying a box of graham cracker crumbs and cutting right to the chase with that. I believe it was decided that it worked better with the formerly-whole, but now sharded crackers. My adapted version entails breaking the crackers and sprinkling them on top of my mix of shredded wheat and Fiber One cereals. In truth, I like it even better than my other weekend add-on of granola. And, I never do both. That would be gilding the breakfast lily, or so my grandmother might have said. And speaking of that, did I mention that there is also always half a banana, diced, a handful of blueberries, and one of the following added to the bowl: strawberries, raspberries, blackberries, or a half of a white peach, peeled and cut up (my favorite)?
So there you have it: Graham Cracker Mush. A worthy, and frankly, time-saving recipe for these hot August mornings. And should you happen to have some Oreos in the house . . . ok, best not to go there. You're only asking for trouble, with the liability of dragging me down with you. So happy August to you! Stay cool, and thanks for reading my blog.
