A Farewell Dinner: Of Rain, Dry Tuna, and Homemade Oreos

Jersey City is a miserable place to live if one hates good-byes (which I most certainly do). Over the five and a half years that we have lived here, Izzy and I have been bidding farewell to far too many of our friends, many of whom have up and left here for greener pastures. Most are in search of better schools, more affordable housing and cleaner living.

The latest ones to abandon our fine city are Izzy's friend T and her family. They are off to Portland, Oregon. June 30 was their last dinner in J.C. and I invited them to our house for a bbq. The first bbq they had with us, turned into an un-bbq, since we ran out of propane. I had hopes that this one would be better.

My original plan was to prepare grilled tofu and brown rice, grass-fed beef sliders, tomato/mozzarella/basil salad, grilled corn, and yellow beans vinaigrette. But during the day, S. called to say she would be bringing along fish. She wanted to bring tuna. I should have warned her against it but how could I say no? What a mistake that was. With so many other things cooking, I overcooked the tuna until it was dry and unpalatable, one reason (besides the mercury factor) I steer clear of tuna in the first place.

Other than the tuna incident, it rained and we had to stay inside, which is not at all what I had in mind. The rain did not keep me from firing up the bbq but it wasn't ideal for our rambunctious children - who did manage to get in some last precious minutes of frolicking, nonetheless. It would be their last opportunity to play together for a long time and they did make the most of it (despite the squeals from T.'s Mama).

Dessert was homemade oreos and fresh berries with whipped cream. I sent them off with extra oreos for their plane trip. From the brief correspondence we have received, all is well in Portland but Izzy and I are missing them here.

Snacks in the Park and a B. Day...(Chatting With The British)

So there we were, sitting in the icky little water park, not far from our house. Izzy and friends were munching on chunks of cheese, blueberries and cherries. The kids were running in the animals squirting water. Izzy's friend I. was standing on top of a seal or some other animal, as it spouted water up her derriere.

Her mom glanced in her direction and said, "I. is having a B. day. Not sure if B. days are for cleaning your feet or your bum. But long ago people had B. days for washing. I guess the B. day is for bums." Meanwhile I am wondering how B. days differ from A. days or C. days and wondering if a different part got washed depending on the letter. As I sat reflecting upon what this all meant, H. finally said something to clue me in, not sure what it was but all of a sudden a bell rang and I burst out laughing.

"Do you mean a bidet?" I asked. She looked perplexed. "A what?" "A bidet. Something people have in their bathrooms to keep their bottoms clean." "Yes," she replied. "But I never heard it pronounced that way. I only know that old people seem to have them and never use them."


"Those Brits are an odd bunch, aren't they?" I thought.
I then explained to her that I grew up with a bidet in my house and that I don't remember anyone using it either. However when I went to Paris I came to rely on my trusty bidet, especially when staying in small hotels that didn't have showers in the room. It is a surprisingly useful bathroom fixture. I managed to somehow bathe in it, while washing my hair in the sink. Eventually I moved into an apartment with a bidet and I miss it still.

Izzy's First Beer...

Root Beer, that is. As a matter of fact, I guess it qualifies as his first soda too.

A new taste sensation.

A gleeful experience.

At bedtime he informed we that it was the highlight of his day. He then asked, "Mama, are you going to tell Papa that I drank beer?" Even though I explained that it wasn't real beer, he still harbored the misconception that he was drinking beer like his Papa does.

Alas, that was not what I had in mind. I just remember drinking Birch Beer when I was a kid and wanted to share a similar experience. I thought that Fitz's Root Beer might not be as sweet as other brands. I haven't drunk Root Beer in ages but it seemed far too sweet to me. Still and all, Izzy got a kick out of it. He better not think it is going to happen again any time soon!

High Hopes For Lunch: A 28 Year Reunion

The Facebook world, while frequently irritating and mundane, also holds great potential. For me it is the promise of reconnecting with a great friend from my past. Several months ago, my friend J., who was my summer camp best friend during those delicate teenaged years of 15 and 16, found me on Facebook and we had a brief correspondence. We both shared fond memories of our time together at camp and pondered over why we hadn't remained in touch.

Recently when he posted that he would be visiting the New York area, I suggested that we meet. He offered to come to Jersey City for lunch. We both secretly thought it would be strange but something compelled us to give it a go. He wondered why I would allow "a strange man" into my house, and I wondered over the general oddness of it all. What did I really know about his grown-up self, aside from the fact that he had once dyed his hair black ( I forgot to tell him that I had done the same at one time) and had taken up ballet (forgot to ask if he still does it). Would I know him? How would time have changed the adorably sweet teenaged boy with whom I had frittered away the days playing backgammon and endless blabbing.

And then there was the issue of lunch. I had planned to make lunch for him. I imagined Heirloom Pea Pancakes with a side of Brebis Blanche cheese and a tossed salad. I even envisioned dessert. Alas my plans were far too ambitious.

When morning came, I became caught up with all of the above ponderings and couldn't settle down enough to actually cook. The very concept of seeing such a long lost friend made it too difficult to concentrate on cooking. Despite the fact that I had a fridge bursting with things to be eaten, I decided that easiest would be best.

When J. finally arrived I ushered him into the kitchen and we began to catch up on all of the long lost years. I had food on the table and eventually got around to creating a few sandwiches with Pecararo bread, fresh mozzarella, avocados and basil from the garden. The food was clearly secondary to the conversation as the day would not have been long enough for us to fit in all of those lost years. Our conversation was just as easy as it had been, so many summers ago. Snippets of our lives were pieced together, memories shared and the afternoon floated away, with a brief pause to pick Izzy up from the camp bus stop. J. came along and once back home we looked at pictures.

Izzy was surprised to see how we looked way back when. Below we are in our usual poses, lounging in J's room, chatting the night away.

L.B. Camp White Oaks: circa 1980

J. A.: Camp White Oaks: circa 1980

We finally took a break to take Izzy (and ourselves) to get gelato. Here we are, post-gelato.







We each may have had a few reservations about meeting but they were quickly put to rest. It is plain see that our reunion was a success. Here's hoping that I don't have to wait another 28 years for the next one. And next time I promise to prepare a better lunch!

Is A Pound Of Scallops Enough For Two Adults and One Child?

Apparently more than enough, with leftovers for a cat or two.


For the second week in a row, I was tempted by the lovely seafood at the Grove Street market (Mondays only). The vendor is from Long Beach Island, N.J.

Izzy kept circling the fish stand on his bicycle, pleading for seafood which I am always reluctant to purchase. I gave in since the scallops proved to be a simple dinner last week. I bought them again so that A. could try some too.

I grilled the scallops a placed them atop a bed of couscous with fresh corn/shallot/basil saute. The scallops were tossed with olive oil and garlic before grilling and then balsamic vinegar was drizzled on top. I was pleased with the results but Izzy only ate two of his and his dad only ate about seven. The excuses:

Izzy: I am not a big fan of scallops (odd as you begged for them)
A.: Scallops are full of preservatives. Best not to eat too many (Have you heard about this? Where does he come up with these facts anyway??)

As for the cats, Splat just sniffs them and walks away but the gutter cats have good taste. At least Mama and her daughter Miss Fang have a hankering for scallops.

Cherry Man

Cherry Man, Cherry Man,
eating cherries whenever he can.
on his face and on his pants
cherry man does a cherry dance..
(to the tune of Particle Man)

Miss Fang And Her Spawn..An Update

Over a month has past since we captured Miss Fang and her daughters. We released Miss Fang but she is still in our lives...

She continues to meow pitifully at the back door but we can't be sure why. Is she still longing for her kittens or is she courting our Splat who peers at her through the screen door?

I feed her almost daily, or whenever she makes an appearance. She is rather fussy and sniffs at the dry food we offer her. Meanwhile, the meowing persists...

Upstairs, in the far reaches of our house, her kittens are blossoming. In the beginning, we kept them in a crate, allowing them out for feeding, petting and cleaning. They have recently graduated to having the run of the room. This has mellowed them even further and they greet us affectionately each time we enter.

They should be ready for adoption by the end of this week, after their final shots and spay. We are torn as to which ones to keep. Each one is special in her own way. Perhaps their fate will be determined when I take them to the Kitten Adoption Bonanza at City Hall on July 12th, from 12-4 p.m. More pictures soon.