Food, Family, and Memory

From the Los Angeles Times 

creamcheese.jpg The happy childhood goes like this: My mother unwraps the silver boxes of cream cheese as if they are presents. She beats the soft cheese – the crack of eggs, a dust-storm of sugar – into pale snowbanks in the bowl while she lets me crush the graham crackers with a hammer. I sneak a few butter-laced crumbs and, later, watch the cooling cheesecake with that wistful ache children can have about certain foods. Such moments, repeated through the years, transform simple favorites into profound emblems.

Cheesecake has that kind of power; it also has range. Stamped with an ancient provenance (Alan Davidson reports a description of a Roman cheesecake in Cato's 2nd century "De Re Rustica") and European pedigree, it's made with ricotta in Italy, quark (a fresh curd cheese) or farmer cheese in Eastern Europe. And the distinctive texture and clean flavor of classic American cheesecakes comes from silky smooth, creamy but tart cream cheese.

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hannahs
Yesterday was the end of almost a years worth of planning and preparing for our youngest daughter Hannah’s Bat Mitzvah.

She did beautifully; you’re so sweet to ask. My husband Chad and I can never seem to do things simply. For instance, when the kids were small, we always did theme parties. One year, we did The Westwood Minster Dog Show for our oldest daughter Lena’s 10th birthday. Her friends brought their dogs and if they didn’t have one, they were judges deciding who would get the ribbon for:

1) The laziest
2) The cutest
3) Best licker
4) Best at not obeying commands

You get the idea. Each ribbon had these things printed on them. We made an obstacle course for the dogs using the kid’s old toys: an inflatable pool, a collapsible tunnel, a suspended tire etc.

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frittatapanWhen I was a kid, Lent never seemed that hard to me. I had to give up something I really loved like Snickers (which I seriously needed to cut back on anyway) and avoid meat on Fridays (which meant eating my grandmother's fri--taaa-taas). Eating Nan's frittatas was not a sacrifice.

Frittata is nothing more than eggs with vegetables, cheeses, or meats cooked into it. Yet, my grandmother's frittatas were always something special -- delicious, healthy, and comforting.

Whether or not you recognize Lent or have an Italian grandmother, there are many reasons why you should know how to make a frittata:

  • They're ridiculously fast and easy to make.
  • They're the perfect meal for the end of the week when you've run out of food. You could put just about anything in a frittata, (though I'd avoid chocolate chips).
  • They're endlessly versatile. Make them with whole eggs, egg whites, or Egg Beaters; add meats, cheeses, or veggies; and eat 'em for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.
  • They make great leftovers for tomorrow's lunch. Try some in a sandwich.
  • They're so much fun to say. Come on, you know you want to say it like Nan used to. So in your best Italian grandmother accent and say, "fri--taaa-taa" as if it's the greatest word in the world. I know for Nan, it was right up there with "pizzelle" or her favorite word, "bingo."
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pasadena greetings.jpglaraine_newman_cameo.jpgTwo times a week I have to find stuff to do for several hours in Old Town Pasadena. This is a part of Pasadena that is, well, the oldest.  If you can imagine any part of California old, this is it. Many of the ‘old money’ resides here and the architecture reflects the Spanish influence tinged with Victorianhanna_toss.jpg and Craftsman flavor. The reason I go is because my daughter Hannah is a competitive cheerleader. Not the kind connected with a school. She’s too young for that. The kind from Bring It On. The kind you see on ESPN. My little Westside dolly is the one they throw up in the air. The one who brings her leg back to touch her head while being hoisted aloft.  Frankly, I’d puke if I ever had the guts to get up there, but she’s tough and fearless.

If you attend one of these competitions, which I’ve done for many seasons now, you hear sped up hip-hop for hours on end. I actually like hip hop to some degree, but after hours of it, I want to kill myself. This past season, her team; Explosion, had a sixties theme, so their music was a mash up of Sam and Dave, Buffalo Springfield, The Beatles, The Monkees, Steppenwolf etc. It was fabulous and they took first place nine times out of the eleven times they competed. Obviously, not because of the music, but because they ‘stuck it’ every time.

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baking.jpg

Nothing I make ever comes out the same way twice.  Maybe it’s because I don’t measure?

I make my brother cookies all the time, usually his favorite- chocolate chip, and he knows they will always be a bit different.  I use the same recipe, really I do.  By the way, this is the disclaimer for the recipe below.  I wrote it down out of my head.  Good luck!  Don’t be afraid to adapt. 

Maybe that’s the deep lesson from my refusal to remember what I did last time?  Nah. 

I just like having fun in the kitchen.  In college, I lived in what we affectionately called “the treehouse.”  It was a converted attic surrounded by big pines (I think it was pine).  My kitchen was so small that I could practically wash dishes, stir my veggies, and stand inside my fridge all at the same time.  I loved it.  

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