I spent Christmas Day on Vashon Island, off the coast of Seattle, with my son, Ela, and daughter-in-law, Leah. [Remember, this was years ago.] Late in the afternoon, in perfect, balmy weather, we walked through the woods along their dirt road, then along the paved road down to the edge of the island. Many other people were out walking, too. We called a cheerful "Merry Christmas" and "Happy New Year!" to each other as though we were all in a Currier and Ives Christmas scene, though Ela, in a cynical recognition that 2003 was not Currier and Ives's era, said, under his breath, "Merry Crisis. Happy New Fear."
I came home to the Applegate the next day. A few days later Ela and Leah drove from Vashon to spend the night with me, then go to his dad's and stepmother's a few miles over the mountain, where I would meet them for New Year's Eve. Continuing the Currier and Ives theme, I wore a long gray cloak, black gloves, and a bright red scarf. Dan, Ela's dad, greeted me at the door with a warm handshake and a hug and kiss, his usual greeting, and a wisecrack alluding to my clothing: "We'll have the groom take care of your horse and carriage." I didn't mind. I was carrying out a theme. When I left for home, Currier and Ives were putting the final touch on their holiday engraving: snow was falling.
Snow fell all night and on through New Year's Day, when I was expecting Ela, Leah, Dan, and Tracy at my house for a lunch of pear and Gorgonzola cheese pasta
with a light green salad and, for dessert, angel thumbprint cookies with bright red homemade cherry jam in the thumbprints. I cooked and baked, filling the house with sharp cheese smells and sugary baking smells. When everything was ready, I sat before the window, watching the snow come down, waiting for my guests. I watched and waited and watched and waited. Still the snow fell.
Long after my guests should have been here, the phone rang. It was Ela on his cell phone. "We tried to get there," he said. "We started over the mountain, but the snow was too deep, and we had to back all the way down that long, slippery hill." I knew that hill. It scared me just thinking about their backing down it in the snow. "We're just sitting down to a thrown-together lunch at my dad's," Ela went on, "and we're really regretting not being with you."
Currier and Ives was spoiled at last—as it always is. Otherwise, we wouldn't see their scenes as idealizations.
So I sat down at my beautifully set table before the windows to eat my New Year's Day lunch alone. I watched snow falling like a shimmering curtain in front of the forest. I lifted my head to look through the skylights at snowflakes drifting down like fairy doilies. I watched the front yard grow higher, closer and closer to my window, its white blanket thickening. (Ultimately—not while I was watching—it reached a climactic fourteen inches.) As last I shook off my mesmerized state and turned to my meal. I poured myself a glass of sparkling cider, then raised it in a toast to my missing guests: Ela, Leah, Dan, and Tracy. I toasted happy new year to my mother and father in Atlanta and to each of my siblings, their spouses, and their children. I toasted happy new year to my good friends in distant places and then, not wanting to leave anyone out, to my good friends here. Then, before I knew it, I was toasting happy new year to everyone I knew, friends and acquaintances, coworkers, doctors, massage therapist, radio fans, guitar teacher, yoga teacher. When I finished all that, I toasted organizations: Jefferson Public Radio, Rogue Community College, the Oregon Council for the humanities, the Arts Council of Southern Oregon, the Sierra Club. If I had been drinking champagne, I would have been quite drunk.
This was fun, even if it wasn't the way Currier and Ives pictured it in their idealized versions of Victorian Christmas. No one is ever alone in Currier and Ives, and 2004 is not 1904. But just as I wasn't alone on New Year's Day but had all my friends with me at my table, so maybe "merry crisis and happy new fear" might be wrong, too. I raised my glass one last time on New Year's Day for a heartfelt toast to the Democratic Party. Then I started on the pasta.
Recipes from this post:
Pasta with pears and gorgonzola cheese
Angel thumbprint cookies
Next week: "A Box of Stories: (1) The Horrible Cake"
Next week: "A Box of Stories: (1) The Horrible Cake"
PASTA WITH PEARS AND GORGONZOLA CHEESE
serves 4
The sauce
Ingredients
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter
4 firm pears (about 2 pounds)
1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary or 1 1/2 teaspoons dried
1 cup chicken broth or 1 vegetable bouillon cube reconstituted to make 1 cup liquid
4 ounces Gorgonzola cheese
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 cup heavy cream
(Instead of the cream, you could use double-thick powdered milk by mixing 1/4 cup nonfat instant milk powder with 1/2 cup water.)
Preparation
Peel, core, and slice pears into 1/3-inch strips. Crumble the Gorgonzola cheese and grate the Parmesan.
To make
Melt the butter over medium-high heat in a large skillet. Add the pear slices and sauté till beginning to brown, about 8 minutes. Remove pears from skillet. Add rosemary to the juices in the pan and stir for about 1 minute to release the fragrance. Add broth, Gorgonzola cheese, 1/2 cup Parmesan cheese, and cream or double-thick milk. Simmer about 6 minutes, stirring, until sauce thickens enough to coat a spoon. Add pears (and any remaining juice) to the sauce and keep warm.
The pasta (linguine)
Cook 3/4 pound linguine al dente.
Assemblage
Ingredients
Gorgonzola cheese sauce
Cooked linguine
1/3 cup pecans
1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
Preparation
Chop pecans. Grate the cheese.
To assemble
Add linguine and pears to Gorgonzola cheese sauce still on the stove on medium-low heat. Toss and heat to coat well, about 3 minutes. Transfer to serving bowl and sprinkle with pecans and Parmesan cheese.
ANGEL THUMBPRINT COOKIES
Ingredients
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
1/4 cup brown sugar, packed
1 egg yolk
1 cup whole wheat flour
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon almond extract
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 egg white, beaten slightly
3/4 cup nuts
Preparation
Sift the flour and salt together. Chop the nuts finely. Preheat oven to 375º.
To make
Cream together the butter, sugar, egg yolk, and extracts. Stir sifted flour and salt into the creamed mixture in several additions and mix. Roll into 1-inch balls. Dip balls in beaten egg white and then into nuts. Place on uncreased cookie sheet. Bake 5 minutes at 375º. Remove from oven and press your thumb (the thumb of an angel) into each cookie, or call on a child to be the angel. Bake 8 minutes longer. Cool.
Assemblage
Ingredients
Cooled thumbprint cookies
Jam or jelly
To finish
Place jelly or jam into the thumb print of each cookie.
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