Grandmother’s lessons

Thanksgiving was low-key at my house this year. Not that there isn’t an abundance of things to be thankful for, but our small multi-generational family had an abundance of plans for the extended holiday. We gathered Thursday for what was to be a simple midday meal, before scattering in different directions to enjoy the long weekend.

What was to have been a small turkey breast to serve five (with enough left for a few sandwiches) became a 12-pound turkey. (The market had no fresh breasts available, and we had not built thawing time into the schedule; the option was a “smallish” fresh bird.)

The rest of it? A mix of traditional and easy prep. One large — overly large, as it turned out — fresh from the garden salad that boasted tiny boiled potatoes, green beans and dried cranberries. Roasted yams and wild rice stood in for mashed potatoes and cornbread stuffing. Savory pumpkin gratin, recipe courtesy of Jacques Pepin, homemade cranberry-orange relish, and a freshly-baked Challah, as pretty to look at as it was good to eat, kept kitchen prep time to a minimum.WP_20171123_14_01_38_ProAs usual, “simple” morphed into too much!

Friday, we were content with turkey sandwiches, salad and television movies. Saturday was a quiet day, with only a few must-do’s, and no plans for a “real” meal. Snacking at will was the order of the day.

When faced with options, make soup

I am grateful that my grandmothers were good cooks, and that I had a chance to hang out in their kitchens many years ago, not only during holiday preparations, but afterwards as well.

I learned the truth of “Waste not, want not,” and I learned to “make do” and make meals out of what was on hand. I also learned that simple meals are best!

Those were lessons well learned.

So, for Saturday supper, soup it was. Pan drippings and turkey parts that would have become gravy had we served mashed potatoes and dressing on Thursday became the catalyst. Leftover wild rice added heartiness. Fresh celery, carrots and onions, constant staples in the refrigerator crisper, are the basis of any good homemade soup, right? And leftover Challah is still delicious!

It was a large pot of soup, enough to feed son and daughter-in-law who stopped in unexpectedly Saturday evening, with enough “left over” for Sunday lunch.

No pie, you say? Well, not exactly!

It bears repeating that our Thanksgiving was pared down and simplified in many ways. There was no pie — not pumpkin, not apple, mince or pecan. No brownies, no ice cream. Apples and oranges, yes, but even they went untouched. None of us suffered from a lack of food; desserts were not missed.

However, I had purchased pie crusts, just in case. (No, I do not see any reason to make my own!)

So, for tonight’s dinner, the plan is to have Turkey Pot Pie. Actually, I can picture it already: Colorful carrots, peas and potatoes joining small bits of turkey meat, oozing with creamy goodness and threatening to bubble up through the golden crust. Chilled (leftover) cranberry sauce will add color and tart flavor to the simple dinner. With a green salad, it will be nutritious and more than ample.

Will one pie suffice to clear the refrigerator of leftovers? I am not yet sure, but if there’s enough turkey to make two, I will be happy to have an extra to pull from the freezer.

On this weekend, especially, I am thankful to have the blessings of home and family, a warm, comfortable hearth, good health and good food.

And those leftovers!

Portovenere: Poetry in any language

My husband and I hadn’t really intended to be in Portovenere. We were driving through Italy with no particular destination in mind. At a small gas station in the port of Genoa, we stopped to ask general directions to the waterfront, with every intention of finding a charming out-of-the way inn along the way, perhaps one with a view of the harbor and a trattoria within walking distance.

We had no timetable. It was chilly. It was the end of January, not the height of tourist season along the Mediterranean coast. The prospect of a good glass of red wine, a simple pasta and a comfortable bed beckoned. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

The station attendant pointed — Portovenere, he repeated — along with a rapid stream of Italian, most of which was lost on us. “Portovenere, Portovenere, Portovenere. . . ,” accompanied by hand waving, curliques in the air, motor sounds, big smiles and, once again the repeated word: “Portovenere!”

It was decided. We pulled out the map, pinpointed the location and the route, smiled at our benefactor and trip planner, and were off to Portovenere.

What a Delight!

The little city is nestled into the craggy cliffs that line the sea; it has all the charm and colorful beauty of better-known Cinque Terre villages. Along with them, Portovenere is on UNESCO’s list of World Heritage Sites. They are all magnificent. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Portovenere is ancient, and it retains the homey aura of a small fishing village, with terraced hillsides above.

Perhaps it was just because we arrived at dusk during a very slow season, but everyone we met, from the hotel desk clerk to local workers on their way to the trattoria, greeted us cordially and made us feel like long-lost friends.

The feeling was not diminished the next day, nor the next. We stayed on, enchanted by everyday life in this beautiful village. We walked the streets, sauntered along the docks, ventured up the steep, hillside cliffs when we felt like it. We breathed deeply of the fresh seaside air, and looked out on the waters of the Med, but felt no need to take the sightseeing boat to the nearby trio of islands that are major tourist destinations.

Familiar Comforts

The truth is that Portovenere wrapped us in the comfort of normal lifestyle, at a point in our three-week trip when we had tired of tourism. In some ways, it felt like going homeOLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

We sipped aperitivos at the local bar, and watched local television with residents relaxing after work, and then we ambled down the street to enjoy fresh seafood, good wine and spirited, if awkward conversation with other diners in the sparsely-occupied room. I’ve forgotten the dishes and the details, but the warmth of the experience, and the certainty that it was a good one, remain. I don’t know the name of the restaurant, but I like to think it is still there, awaiting my return.

It’s a fanciful thought, I know, appropriate in some odd way for this Thanksgiving week. Going home for Thanksgiving is deeply ingrained in our consciousness, whether that trip is to Grandma’s house or simply a gathering that brings family and friends together for shared experience, wherever it may be.

Special Places and Times

That first and only visit to Portovenere was more than a decade ago and it still stands out in my memory as one of those places I would return to on short notice! That’s what I have been thinking about this week — the prospect of revisiting favorite spots across the globe, an irresistible urge to experience old delights once again. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Pisa is on the list, and Assisi, along with Carrara, where Michelangelo found his stone. The tops of the mountains shine white in the distance, chipped away over the centuries to expose the shining white cores. Counter tops are still quarried here, some of them by old methods. It’s quite an experience to drive to the summit of a marble mountain!

There are other places, too, to revisit, most of them not the subject of travel guides and magazine articles. But that’s what makes travel special, isn’t it? Finding those places that speak to the soul is not something a traveler plans.

If it happens, it’s hard to deny. Portovenere is like that.

Savor the Good Times

In my mind, I can picture my return, just as I picture returning to my former home city of Santa Fe this year for a large family Thanksgiving.

May all of you find a special place in the heart this Thanksgiving. Maybe we can all search out those delightful spaces and places at other times of year as well.

If it’s impossible to return home in a physical sense, however, at least make a point to revisit those special places periodically in spirit. Savor those experiences.

There are many ways, and many reasons, to celebrate Thanksgiving

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It’s a community of sorts. Loosely knit, perhaps, but the armada of sailors and cruisers that descends on St. Mary’s towards the end of November each year is every bit as much a family as most of those with blood ties.

It’s Thanksgiving that brings this marine family together in a little town on the river between Georgia and Florida. It’s a time to share stories, good times and good drinks. They arrive each year. They come “home” for the holiday.

St. Mary’s residents have been hosting this gathering for Intracoastal Waterway voyagers since 2001. This year, it begins the Saturday before Thanksgiving, and ends with a pancake breakfast the following Friday. There are other events over the weekend and some of the vessels stay on for a few days. Cumberland Island is nearby; there is much to see and do.

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Newcomers are welcomed by the old-timers with warmth and good cheer, greeted as new friends and immediately inducted into the “family.”

There is a camaraderie that is natural and unforced. The week’s activities center around the Riverside Hotel and its Seagle’s Restaurant and Saloon.  Boaters and townspeople mingle at happy hour, enjoy a chili cook-off  and consume dozens of oysters at a Wednesday afternoon free roast. They drink coffee and other libations, exchange anecdotes and tell tall tales.

Townspeople come to the harbor to meet the “boat people.” They offer “restocking” rides to nearby grocery stores and gift shops and they renew old acquaintances. They come to ask questions about the boats, to hear stories of adventure, to marvel at the hardiness (or the folly) of those who choose the sea over the comforts of land-based homes. Children view the boats with wide-eyed wonder.

Those who arrive early find dock space. Those who come later pick up moorings or drop anchor. There seems always to be enough room. Those who travel the Intracoastal Waterway routinely plan their voyages with a St. Mary’s Thanksgiving in mind. Others happen on the celebration by chance. Still others hear of it, and can’t resist the urge to see if it’s true.

Photo by Tony Alter/Flickr15714052278_913ff71a3c_zIt does not disappoint. Thanksgiving festivities begin along the docks, and drift into town each day. On Thursday, local resident volunteers arrive in the morning with home-cooked turkeys and hams. Side dishes, salads and desserts appear as if by magic, contributed by the boating community. Dinner is served buffet style, beginning just after noon, and it continues until the food disappears. There always seems to be more than enough — of food and friendship.

We pulled in at dusk:  It had been a long and chilly journey.  But fellow cruisers along the waterway had told us it was worth the effort. November is somewhat late for pleasure boats to be traveling on the Intracoastal Waterway, but 2008 was relatively mild, and we encountered few problems other than the loneliness of being alone for Thanksgiving.

How quickly that changed. Although we have not returned, we think of that special Thanksgiving often. It was, indeed, memorable — an event out of all proportion to the size of the town. We filled our stomachs. The experience filled our hearts.

Even old salts find solace in planting their feet firmly on the ground on occasion. This holiday in this town, with these special people, is a unique and lasting gift.Chasing Sunsets 054

All boaters travel on, but they leave satisfied, awed and thankful.

For more information on St. Mary’s, visit the city’s official website.