Smoked salmon and scallion cream cheese pinwheels

 

 

 

I know that for a lot of people who love to cook being on vacation means lots of time to prepare food for family and friends. They like to spend long mornings at local markets sourcing for ingredients they cannot find as good, as cheap - or at all in many cases - back home. They never leave home without their knives or some other favorite kitchen tool or essential ingredient. They relax firing up the barbecue or mixing large carafes of frozen cocktails.

 

I often entertain such Martha Stewart fantasies about moving at ease around a kitchen in Provence, French windows open on a garden where the children quietly play hide and seek behind the bushes and trees, a light flowing skirt swirling just above my tanned bare feet. A pinch of tarragon here, a drizzle of dry white wine there...

 

The reality, however is very different: I rarely cook consistently on vacation, especially summer vacation.

 

When we visit my husband's side of the family, there is no doubt about who reigns in the kitchen. I humbly hand over my scepter wooden spoon to my mother in law and busy myself with other things.

 

 

 

 

If we travel to the States every day is a whirlwind of friends and family to catch up with. We eat out up to twice a day sometimes and when we are home I spend a lot of time trying to contain my jet lagged, overexcited and overtired kids while my stepmother cooks up a delicious meal. Or we do what so many other fellow countrymen do: order in.

 

When visiting my mother, things are pretty much the same, minus the jet lag. Although, come to think of it, given Spanish hours, perhaps we should put jet lag back into the equation. There are lots of meals in restaurants and even more at family/friends' houses since the kids. When we do eat in, my mom takes care of the food while I, like the Cat in the Hat, save a vase with my left hand and a silver ashtray with my right while shouting at the kids for the umpteenth time to leave the dead snails and those piles of almonds, carobs and overripe figs outside of the front door please, not inside.

 

When we are on our own, by the time we get our tired, salty, sandy selves back from a long day at the beach, the most I can get myself to do is open a cold cerveza for my marido and myself and put some jamon, sobrasada and manchego out on the table for the niños, perhaps accompanied with some anchovy-filled olives and a glass or bowl of gazpacho.

 

This means that by the time I get back I am dying to get my hands chopping and slicing again and simultaneously a little rusty.

 

 

 

 

If you are feeling a little out of practice too, here is a really simple starter you can make in a matter of minutes. This is the perfect appetizer if you are on a no-carb mission after overeating during the holidays. Or, like us, you sometimes just miss a good NY sesame bagel with Nova and scallion cream cheese.

 

I made this following a mish-mash of different recipes online. Most of them said to refrigerate the roll for about an hour before cutting. That wasn't enough for me, so I stuck it into the freezer for another half hour and that made the process a lot less messy.

Zucchini carpaccio with feta cheese, mint and toasted pinoli nuts

 

In the the past weeks F has been playing soccer on Monday nights and coincidentally, on the same night they have started showing a cycle of old Dustin Hoffman movies. Last week it was Kramer vs. Kramer, yesterday it was Tootsie's turn. 

 

Considering I hadn't watched either movie in about 30 years, I wasn't surprised I had missed out on a lot of the humor and drama. When I first saw Kramer vs. Kramer I was a child approximately Billy's age with recently divorced parents and I was moving to another continent with my mom. It was all pretty matter-of-factual to me. Now, as the mother of a daughter that age, I watched it with renewed interest and much more involvement than the last time. As for Tootsie, I had natually completely missed out on the sexual subtext, which is surprising considering the whole comedy revolves around it. I also realized with a little gasp that Dustin, Meryl and Jessica were probably all younger than I am today when they starred in those movies. Finally, I smiled when I realized Michael's roommate in Tootsie is Bill Murray, who only became a noteworthy presence in my life after Ghostbusters. Or that Tootise marked Geena Davis' first movie appearance.

 

Generally speaking I am not usually one to watch old movies, it just isn't my thing. I am not that person with a huge collection of dvds that I see over and over again. But something about these two movies just sucked me in, something more than just purely enjoying good acting by a younger, softer version of the stars they are today. The truth is they bring me back to a different time of my life. A time that I can now see with much more awareness than I did as a kid. They portray the NY of my younger years, a time when I had still lived most of my life in the city instead of Europe. The years of the Russian Tea Room, the Twin Towers and of a seedy but truer version of Times Square.

 

Source: Wikipedia

 

I felt a twinge when I saw a NY bus drive by in a scene that was advertising the hit musical Evita. I remember every minute of those summer nights in the early Eighties when I played that record over and over again. I sang of a new Argentina, the chains of the masses untied, and had not a clue what it meant. I sat in a Broadway theater mesmerized while Magaldi admonished Eva of the perils of Buenos Aires. Those tunes were the soundtrack of several years of my early life and every note brings back a memory. My family still roll their eyes at the mere mention of the Argentine rose.

 

And what about mocassins? Did you have a pair? I had completely forgotten about my white ones until I watched Lange's slow-motion twirl last night.

Leek soup with peas and sauerkraut, a recipe for love (and marriage)

Today is about his brown eyes, his beautiful hands and his good heart. Today is about love, friendship, companionship, parenthood. Today is about memories of off-white silk and red wine from the hills of Tuscany. 

Ten years ago we were two kids dressed up in party clothes dancing to Abba, inebriated with wine and love. Today we are a family of four. The two lives we created are a source of endless love we never deemed possible, even more so when we thought nothing could be bigger than what we had.

A decade is a long time in our relatively young lives. I raise a glass to these ten years.

I raise a glass to every slammed door, to every flung object, to each and every tear shed in frustration onto a damp pillow, to late night arguments, to every moment of endured nagging, to every soccer game tolerated or renounced, to every sexy human being that ever crossed our path, to every moment of  boredom, to all the instances of child-related fear, doubt and pain, to every fleeting feeling of missing out and constraint, to every weathered disappointment, to the moments of worry and uncertainty, to sometimes feeling misunderstood by the one who knows you best. To sweaty sports briefs, to unflushed tampon wrappers, to hypochondria, to badgering, to everpresent children, to never-present intimacy, to exhaustion, to exasperation.

If, after ten years, you can still look into each others' eyes and know you want to wake up seeing them every morning to come. If you feel a flutter deep down in your stomach when you know a whole week end together is approaching. If what shines the brightest in your kaleidoscope of memories are your shared laughter, the cuddles, tucking your children in at night together and watching them sleep, secret hideouts between rocks on tropical beaches, oysters and champagne in Paris, reading books under a duvet, sharing a pint of ice cream during a movie, a tiny apartment and a greatly missed red tabby, then cheers!

Tonight the kids are going to bed early and Mommy and Daddy are popping a bottle of bubbly and dining on take out sushi.

For you, a recipe that is humble, wonderfully warm and comforting, full of different textures and flavors and with an unexpected zing in every bite...just like marriage, no?