Papa Don't Preach

The first modern celebration of a "Father's Day" was held on July 5, 1908, in Fairmont, West Virginia, in the Williams Memorial Methodist Episcopal Church South.  Grace Golden Clayton was mourning the loss of her father who died in a mining disaster along with 361 men, 250 of them fathers, leaving around a thousand fatherless children.  Clayton suggested her pastor honor all those fathers and was thought to be influenced by the first Mother's Day just two months prior.

On this day, I would like to celebrate all the men who "father".  Whether by biology or adoption, being the father, grandfather, uncle, stepfather, or dear family friend.

The bond between a child and the men in their life is sometimes made less important to the mother-child relationship, but it is just as essential.

My son has an amazing father who dedicated himself to being the dad he did not have.  While one can wax on about marriage difficulties, I have watched my husband open his heart to our son when that was non-existent for him.  My husband has frequently noted that he has said, "I love you" to our son more times in 11 years than he ever heard in his entire life from his father.

At this juncture in my man-child's life, being with his dad is preferred.  I have to put my faith in something as the two of them find their way through this emotional time.  I have to trust that they will continue to enrich each others life; that they keep sharing the deepest parts of themselves with one other, and through the inarticulated male-code, that they will deepen the bonds of love and respect.

I, in turn, will celebrate my father today as well.  I can sum it up in one sentence, he is the best father a girl can have.

 

FATHER WILLIAM

by: Lewis Carroll

"You are old, Father William," the young man said,

"And your hair has become very white;

And yet you incessantly stand on your head--

Do you think, at your age, it is right?"

"In my youth," Father William replied to his son,

"I feared it might injure the brain;

But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,

Why, I do it again and again."

"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,

And have grown most uncommonly fat;

Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door--

Pray, what is the reason of that?"

"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his gray locks,

"I kept all my limbs very supple

By the use of this ointment -- one shilling the box --

Allow me to sell you a couple?"

"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak

For anything tougher than suet;

Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak--

Pray, how did you manage to do it?"

"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law,

And argued each case with my wife;

And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw

Has lasted the rest of my life."

"You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly suppose

That your eye was as steady as ever;

Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose--

What made you so awfully clever?"

"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"

Said his father; "don't give yourself airs!

Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?

Be off, or I'll kick you down-stairs!" 

 

The Hunting of the Snark and Other Poems and Verses. (1903)

 

 

Happy Father's Day!

Tears of a Clown

Somehow, endings, no matter if simple, benign, or the life-changing kind bring a watershed of tears.  This week culminated in a two-year endeavor with playing violin in the school orchestra.  I started crying 30 minutes before the show and completely through it.

When we started the violin, he practiced it at home frequently.  For those who ask, "was he good?"  My reply is that it was a sound only his mother could love.  As the bow scratched across the strings, stopping and starting in his attempt of perfection, the sound filled my heart in a way that surprised me.  I felt so full of love, pride, and moved that he was creating something.  There were a few times where the practice would go beyond the mandatory twenty minutes and slowly approaching the forty-five minute mark.

On Tuesday I received a call from him during school.  Could I come to get him. He was having a very hard day, he could not stop crying, and was too emotional to pull himself together to go back to class.  I picked him up and immediately he told me that while practicing for the concert and listening to the music in the room, he was overcome with emotions.  It brought up all the things that have been weighing on us for the last six months.  The fact that the music he was creating and experiencing moved him to tears made me so happy inside.  That experiences of emotionalism is hard fought and we are currently fighting for our lives.

I could not possibly stop crying and was reminded of how this door shall too close.  So to consider how the tears flow and then bring sweet and satisfying results, I would like share a recipe for soupe a l'oignon. 

INGREDIENTS
4-6 servings

• 1/2 cup unsalted butter
• 4-6 onions, sliced
• 2 garlic cloves, chopped
• 2 bay leaves
• 2 fresh thyme sprigs
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 1 cup red wine, about 1/2 bottle
• 3 heaping tablespoons all-purpose flour
• 2 quarts beef broth
• 1 baguette, sliced
• 1/2 pound grated Gruyere

Melt the stick of butter in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onions, garlic, bay leaves, thyme, and salt and pepper and cook until the onions are very soft and caramelized, about 25 minutes. Add the wine, bring to a boil, reduce the heat and simmer until the wine has evaporated and the onions are dry, about 5 minutes. Discard the bay leaves and thyme sprigs. 

Dust the onions with the flour and give them a stir. Turn the heat down to medium low so the flour doesn't burn, and cook for 10 minutes to cook out the raw flour taste. 

Now add the beef broth, bring the soup back to a simmer, and cook for 10 minutes. Season, to taste, with salt and pepper.

When you're ready to eat, preheat the broiler. Arrange the baguette slices on a baking sheet in a single layer.  Sprinkle the slices with the Gruyere and broil until bubbly and golden brown, 3 to 5 minutes.

Ladle the soup in bowls and float several of the Gruyere croutons on top.  An alternative method: Ladle the soup into bowls, top each with 2 slices of bread and top with cheese. Put the bowls into the oven to toast the bread and melt the cheese.

To close, he played Eleanor Rigby on Wednesday night.  While I don't have audio or video of his concert, this is exactly what they sounded like.

For those who prefer the musical reference of the blog title, this is for you.

The mother's view

L'episode de la Madeleine

Duh!!!!!!!!!

The bell went off in my simplistic brain and the connections and patterns revealed themselves.  I just love when this happens in the therapeutic environment.  It is deeply satisfying.

For years I talked and thought of my father as handicapped as an adult because his mother died when he was four.  There was no mommy, no person to teach him how to be in the world, how to be a friend, how to express yourself, nor how to have relationships that can transcend small and large problems.  This continues to plague him even now when the emotional book-ends of birth, marriage and death come calling between June 17-July 4-July 8th every year.

It was only when I was talking about the man-child and how mother's day and his birthday (birth and birth) causes much shpilkes (Yiddish for "nervous energy") that I saw the connection.

The recent celebration into teenagerville came 5 days after Mother's Day.  The celebration of his birth is bittersweet as a major element was missing, mythologized, absent.  Can you celebrate a birthday if you don't know how you came to be? 

My man-child was conflicted because while he was thrilled to celebrate with his family, his first 30 months of life is as good as a piece of fiction.

His moment de la madeleine is crafted from desire, hope, similarity, continuity, and other cues he encounters in everyday life that he hopes are recollections. We have created them for him, and in turn he has added episodes and experiences into the filing cabinet of his memories.

Were this embellishments the "involuntary memory" described by Proust in his moment de la madeleine?  Involuntary memory is a conception of human memory in which cues encountered in everyday life evoke recollections of the past without conscious effort.

Proust contrasts involuntary memory with voluntary memory. The latter designates memories retrieved by putting conscious effort into remembering events, people, and places. According to Proust's narrator in the text, he laments that such memories are inevitably partial, and do not bear the "essence" of the past.  So in the creation of early memories provided to the man-child, by wanting to fill in the holes and gaps, have we created a falsehood of knowing or being?

Whether patterns and themes come into life through chance, divine intervention, or coincidence--does it matter how they arrive?  The butter in the Madeleine will remove the bitterness that may exist when those memories are less than sweet.

So for those who are walking the streets of Paris, seeking inspiration from a pastry - please find your way to Blé Sucré for the most amazing Madeleines in the city.



Blé Sucré
Square Trousseau
7, rue Antoine Vollon (12th)
Tél: 01 43 40 77 73
Métro: Ledru-Rollin


For 24 Madeleines:
300 g of sugar
6 whole eggs
110 g of cold milk
375 g of flour
15 g of baking powder
410 g of hot melted butter
metal madeleine mold/tray

Orange Citrus Glaze:
200 g of sugar
57 g of freshly squeezed orange juice

Click here for conversion calculator.

One Step at a Time:
In a deep bowl, beat the eggs with a whisk, then slowly add the rest of the ingredients making sure to whisk in-between each new addition:

Sugar...

Whisk and "don't be afraid to put your body weight into it."

Flour, baking powder and whisk...

Hot butter and whisk...

Cold milk and ...

Whisk until smooth.

Butter the madeleine mold(s) only lightly, too much butter in the crevice grooves will keep the dough batter from seeping into the crevices to give the back of the madeleine that wonderful scallop shape.
Cover both and refrigerate overnight.
In the morning, should there be too much butter in the mold crevices, simply wet a paper towel with warm water and gently wipe out the excess butter from the grooves.

Generously flour the entire mold, and then slam it sideways onto a counter surface to remove excess.

Place the batter into a pastry bag/pipe and fill each place, starting in the middle to fill the mold yet not completely to the edges - ending with a quick flip of the wrist to completely cut the flow of batter before starting the next one.


Place the molds on a baking sheet and then into a 230° hot oven for six minutes, before taking the tray out to reinsert it backwards to ensure even baking for an additional six minutes.


As soon as they are done, take them out and immediately slam the mold sideways to remove the madeleines...

and place them individually on a cooling rack.

Use a mixer to blend the orange juice and sugar.

Once the madeleines are at room temperature, dip the top of the madeleine surface into the orange glaze mixture ...


and set aside each on a rack sitting on a baking sheet to catch the drips.

Place the rack and baking sheet of glazed madeleines into the oven for about 45 seconds to 1 minute, watching for the glaze “bubbling” on the edges - indicating they are ready to remove and cool.



A golden box of gorgeous light madeleines - fluffy and moist on the inside, firm and kissed by a touch of orange sweetness on the outside.



Recipe courtesy of Blé Sucré.