SEQUESTRATION

"For the rest of it, the last and greatest art is to limit and isolate oneself."

                       Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe (1749-1832)



During this Covid-19 pandemic, many of us are"hunkered down" in our homes, trying to keep active, both physically and mentally.  The term, "hunker down" first emerged in the Scots language in the 18th century.  It originally referred to squatting down on the balls of one's feet, keeping low to the ground but still ready to move, if necessary.  From a situation like this, creativity and innovation is often born.  Human beings are resilient and I'd like to think we'll bounce back from this as unscathed as possible.

I just wrote about this virus only a few blogs ago when everyone's attention was centered on a single cruise ship docked in Yokohama harbor.  Now it has reached our communities and even our neighborhoods.  The media is highlighting all the famous people around the world who have tested positive, from movie stars to royalty.  Yet, many of us know someone who is positive for the virus and who might even have died.  This gives me pause for some introspection and appreciating those in my life that I love or have loved in the distant past.

Our son, self-isolated in a one-bedroom apartment in NYC, and, like so many others in that city, is temporarily on furlough from his work, a successful television series that, due to the pandemic, has shut down production. He has resorted to doing what he does best, cooking and writing, not in any particular order.  Last evening, he called me and proudly announced his newest creation...RICE PUDDING.

 Just hearing those two words set off a chain of events in my memory of loved ones and days gone by.  As a child, one of my two grandmother's, "Sunny Fannie", or "Little Nana" as we called her, would make her own version of rice pudding for me, unlike any of you have ever eaten.  If it was a day when she watched me when my parents were at work, she would take me shopping in her North Bronx neighborhood where she was well known.  An immigrant from Poland, she would make me laugh with her many mis-pronunciations and her warm smiles.

Fannie

 We would visit the cheese monger, the fish monger, the green grocer, etc. and then, end up in a kosher deli where I would scarf down a Hebrew National hot dog, smothered in deli mustard and sauerkraut. That's the way I still like it, even though my wife who hails from a rural community in Upstate New York, eats hers, to my scorn, with ketchup!  Anyway, back to rice pudding.  She would bake it in a pyrex baking tray, cut it into squares (raisins and cinnamon included) and serve it cold.

When I first brought my Presbyterian fiancé around to meet her (now my spouse of over 52 years), the big test for my grandmother would be whether this "outsider" would like her cooking.  After Suzanne tasted her garlic roast chicken and bubbalehs (matzo meal pancakes) with a big smile on her face, and chatting about how they both grew up on farms, thousands of miles from each other, they struck up a fast friendship! Food brings people together, no matter what their backgrounds!

While rice pudding wasn't her only treat for me, she would make cheese blintzes and kreplach.  For those of you unfamiliar to the latter, it's a dish that seems to have found its way among many culinary cultures: Ravioli (Italian), WonTon (Chinese), Pierogis (Polish), and dumplings (throughout Asian cuisines).  I'm sure I'm missing some.  Her cheese blintzes were so renowned, she began to sell them commercially to caterers!  They could be covered with sour cream, jam, sugar, or whatever floats your boat.

Kreplach in Chicken Soup!!!

I really didn't know my grandfathers, one died long before I was born and the other when I was four.  My other grandmother who spent most of her year in South Beach, Miami (when the art deco architecture was new!), would come north for the summer, a time when she also introduced me to some culinary delights.  She was "Big Nana", terms to indicate their height and not their weight.  Unlike Fannie, Hannah (or Helen as she preferred), was very different. A third generation American of Dutch Jewish parentage, she had an operatic voice and was known throughout our community, often performing at varied social events.  She was very interested in my wanting to become a physician, even though, for a period of time, she practiced Christian Science.  While in Florida, she was a good correspondent with me, sending me letters in her beautiful cursive, many of which I've saved over the years.  Her cooking was more of the Dutch-German variety with pork and other non-kosher dishes.

Big Nana and me

from 1958

I have a lasting memory of one evening when I was in high school and she invited me over to her apartment that she rented in the summer, on the northern stretch of Gramatan Avenue, just before it got to Bronxville.  It was just Big Nana and me and she introduced me to a dish I had never eaten before that, today, remains one of my favorites: Linguini with white clam sauce.  I don't know if it was the tenderness of the fresh clams, the olive oil or the garlic, but it won me over.  Take me to an Italian restaurant today and nine times out of ten, that's what I'll order.  Most recently, the best I've ever had, next to Helen's, was in a small trattoria in Palermo, Sicily.  It should not be too salty and the flavor of the virgin olive oil must tantalize your taste buds!

So, in conclusion, love is often rendered through food and vice-versa. The neuronic pathways in our brains are stimulated by flavors, smells and consistencies.  But, as I see it, they are closely linked to memories, and, in my case, memories of people I loved.

I wish all my readers health and safety in these dire times. If you get cabin fever, take out a cook book and create something your loved ones will remember for a long time.