The year was 1991. I was editor of the now-defunct magazine Catering Today. We sponsored a popular “Catering Expo” in New Orleans. The amazing chef and author Julia Child was the keynoter for our “Crystal Pineapple Awards” luncheon that year. It was a memorable experience and we lapped up every word from this American treasure. Ms. Child was 79 years old at the time, but still going strong. When Julia moved from stressing “use real cream and butter – but…
Although Facebook can be an irritation, there are certainly some worthwhile finds. For example, the Hollywood Page of Death. There’s something whimsical about “Hollywood Page of Death” popping up daily in my feed. The content is close to what you’d find on Wikipedia (in fact, it may be an edited version of their content). It’s a nice (if slightly macabre) way to learn about – or remember – stories about members of the entertainment biz. This morning’s reminder that entertainer-extraordinaire…
One of the hardest parts about living in Indiana is being so far away from the ocean. Growing up, we vacationed in Ogunquit, Maine, and in earlier years, Leetes Island, Connecticut. Both spots were within walking distance to the beach. It was glorious! But we waved goodbye to all of that when we moved to Indiana in 1973. My parents relocated to Connecticut four years later and eventually retired there, but I stayed put. As our sons grew up here…
Gosh, I remember that day. We were at Grandma and Grandpa Cassidy’s house for a visit. This story centers around their kitchen. And eggs. I loved that kitchen, and the adjacent pantry. The kitchen included a dinette set, pushed up against the wall. That wall featured a Murphy bed-esque ironing board – it folded up and all but disappeared! The room also included a gas stove and a tall white cabinet that was freestanding. I’m sure that cupboard housed a…
In case you haven’t happened upon this fact, I’m here to tell you: There’s nothing quite as polarizing as black olives. Some people love them. And I mean LOVE. To the point they’ll steal them off of your plate. While others … well, we won’t steal them back. My introduction to black olives was back in the mid 1960s. Each Friday, Mom packed up the kids and we headed to Adams Super Market. It was a huge store, for the…
There’s nothing quite as gross as baby food. You know, the greenish glop in a jar that just doesn’t smell right. It did my heart good to read in this poem that Mom believed in babies eating real food, too, even sixtysomething years ago. The Roast Beef Baby We moved to Pennsylvaniawhen you were one, about.We slept three nights in a moteland ate our dinners out. Now other babies at your agewere eating out of jars:mushed and mashed and lumpy…
There is something so peaceful about watching the snow fall gently on a Christmas evening. But since today’s high temperature was 67, there’s no chance of yuletide snow-peeping this year. Instead, Gary, James, and I sat on the back deck and gathered around the fire pit, transfixed by the flames. We roasted hot dogs. We dined on fancier food earlier, and by nightfall a hot dog with relish and mustard just hit the spot. We even FaceTimed to Connecticut for…
Although most of my career was spent at the park (with the nickname Raven Maven), for a handful of years in the late ’80s I was known as The Big Cheese. When I told park peers that I’d formerly served as editor of Pizza Today magazine, I’m not sure they believed me. They’d give me that side-eye thing. With a grin and a shrug, I’d make a mental note to bring an issue in someday as proof. Like this one:…