Murphy’s Bye-Laws

After the last entry, I was preparing to embark on an extended weekend of festivities surrounding St. Patrick’s Day.  A___ and I allow ourselves to let loose a bit and enjoy this particular holiday because we have a little heritage by chance and more interest by choice.  We don’t spend the holiday trying to become as drunk as possible and we don’t attempt to dress as ridiculous as possible in as much green as possible.  We typically imbibe, though likely less than usual in my case anyway, and hop from venue to venue attempting to catch as many of our favorite Irish bands as possible, especially those we don’t have opportunity to see often outside of this holiday.  St. Patrick’s Day is simply a super concentrated version what we do all year, jamming into one or two days what would take us months otherwise.  This year, like most years, started with a parade the weekend before.

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As the holiday season prepares to go out with a bang this evening, I’d like to reflect on thoughts I’ve had while catching up with old friends and acquaintances.  This year has found me with a full social schedule over the past two weeks meeting with prodigal friends returning home temporarily or carving out some time to catch up.  At one time, all of the people I visited with shared some aspect of their lives with me before separating to pursue individual purposes.  I’ve thought much about the divergence in our lives and geography and how much one has had an effect on the other.  Read the rest of this entry »

My previous post about sandwiches made quite a stir. The metaphor was kind of lost in the lettuce of dispute over the status of an open-faced sandwich as something other than a sandwich. Well, the metaphor was only added as an excuse to write about sandwiches. So this time I’ll give you all sandwiches all the time.

As I previously stated, I love sandwiches. I may even have a sandwich problem. I also have an enabler. Around Thanksgiving A___ had the idea to take the quirkiness of stuffin’ muffins – stuffing made in a muffin pan – and making it in a loaf pan in order to cut it into slices and make a leftover turkey sandwich between two slices of stuffing. The idea had a mad scientists kind of appeal that I drooled over.

The stuffing bread makes interesting sandwich material, in a particle board kind of way. The stuffing was made slightly more moist than usual in order for it to hold together. A couple of days layer, the loaf was cut and toasted to add some stiffness and strength to the stuffing bread. Then we piled on turkey, candied sweet potatoes, (maybe some red onion), and some homemade cranberry sauce (not the gelatinous stuff from a can). I was worried that the bread may not hold out, but it worked like a champ and luscious leftovers were transformed into succulent sandwich goodness.

There are pictures to document the event below.

‘Tis the season to atone for being arrogant ingrates for the greater part of the year by remembering all the “little” things that we take for granted.  It is also the time for feasting with no strings attached.  More and more, recently, I’ve heard sentiments about how Thanksgiving is so much better than Christmas because of the lack of pressure for exchanging gifts and, therefore, no hectic days spent among the throngs of people shopping.  (Apparently, these people didn’t go to the grocery store this past weekend.)  It can just be about plenty of delicious, fatty foods and the company of friends and family.  Most people tend to focus on the food more than the family, but I think the idea of home and family is closely intertwined with food.

I never thought much about the connection of food to feelings of home and family until K__ wrote of her fond remembrances of her mother in a recent post over at Llamanation.  She recalls fondly the very specific meals that were meticulously prepared for her by her mom; meals that were meant to convey love and affection and succeeded with flying colors.  The feelings I’m certain K__’s mom had while preparing a meal for loved ones is probably common amongst most cooks who enjoy preparing a delicious meal for loved ones: the feeling of providing comfort, health, and a tangible sense of security.  It is that familiar and repeated culinary embrace, that warm fulfilling sense of security, and the feeling of being looked after in such a fundamental way that makes food such an inalienable part of what people associate with home.

To a lesser degree, assembling with family or very close friends over a meal brings a warm sensation of comfort.  The meal need not evoke a feeling of being home, which requires years and years of repetition, but it does bring a feeling of togetherness.  (I guess eggs really do make a great binder!)  The food is still meticulously prepared to the joy of the cook and the fed, and it becomes a bond of caring and friendship and love.

Many dishes, especially ethnic cuisine, recall meals from the past in far away places.  The place need not have been visited by all, but the memory is passed down from generation to generation on a platter (or in a bowl).  The preparation of a traditional Thanksgiving meal of turkey and various side dishes can be defined by family; every family with different variations and combinations that make it theirs.  When a meal like that is eaten, it is impossible not to remember those who have shared – and especially those who prepared – those meals in the past.