There is something about the look in his eyes that conveys the depth of feeling and an immense joy that all children, not just Sophia, bring to my father-in-law. In return for his immense love, children tend to melt into his strong embrace, instantly dissolving into smiles. There must be something magical that they feel: care, security, presence and love. In my opinion, a child’s reminiscing about his or her early life experiences is among the biggest of compliments for any parent. There have been many a time when Evan has talked about his time with his Dad and his memories are so special. What’s more, my father-in-law has taught me that parenting and doting doesn’t cease when children grow up, and he continues to do so with an immense balance of respect and grace. I couldn’t be happier to have such a wonderful person in our lives to share this special day with. Happy Father’s Day, Pop!
Someone once said that mother’s become mothers the moment they find out they are pregnant. They have nine months to bond with their baby. Fathers on the other hand, usually need a little more time. I have been absolutely awed by the amount of love Evan has for Sophia. It seemed to me that their love affair took some time to blossom but it is well earned.
In my wildest dreams I couldn’t imagine such a quiet, graceful love but one where feelings flow freely without abandon. You won’t hear him exclaiming his feelings loudly or often, but it is his actions that speak louder than words. It is in the way he looks at her when she is not looking and in the way he makes her laugh, delighting in her mischievous nature and in the way he stops by the family room every morning to say he’s heading out to work. I couldn’t dream of a better father for Sophia.
Fortunately, Evan and I are fairly interchangeable around the house. We can both do laundry, clean and cook pretty much anything with the exception of grilling in my case and baking in Evan’s. Though, I must admit that a while ago, while waiting to start his job here in Maryland, he did bake me chocolate chip cookies that were heavenly and hot out of the oven the minute I walked in the door from work. I did, if only for a few moments, consider convincing him to be a stay-at-home-husband.
This past weekend, I bought short ribs at the grocery store because quite frankly, if we eat any more chicken, I fear we will grow feathers. They were a safe choice as we could slow braise them and turn them into perfect tortilla stuffing or turn into a scrumptious stew. Since I shopped and sort of planned the menu, Evan executed. We also benefitted from baby arugula from my parents’ garden. Pairing the short ribs with mashed potatoes laden with lots and lots of butter though thankfully, not as much as Joel Robuchon recommends was heavenly. We did balance the whole meal out with a peppery argula salad.
For anyone who is interested in my, not Evan’s, braising recipe, it goes something like this:
Heat the oven to 300*F. Sear bone-in short ribs on all sides in a large, cast iron pot. This should take about 10-12 minutes. Remove the ribs and slowly sauté 1-2 sliced onions (I like more) in the pot until soft and translucent. Add 2 tablespoons of good quality tomato paste and 2 anchovies if you have them. Cook the mixture until the tomato paste is toasted and the anchovies have disintegrated. Add 28 oz of canned, whole tomatoes that have been hand-crushed and bring to a simmer. Gently nestle the meat into the pot and add enough chicken stock/water to cover the meat 3/4 of the way. Add a few sprigs of fresh thyme, bay leaf and cover. Bake for 3 hours until the meat is tender and falling off the bone. Enjoy!
It has been significantly warmer and muggy around these parts. When the winter chills hit, I forget that the District of Columbia and its surroundings are pretty much one big swamp that gets hot, humid and full of mosquitos come summer time. Usually, the beginning of June serves as an unwelcome reminder and we realize that summer around these parts means early morning/evening walks and hiding out in the comfort of an air conditioner at all other times.
No matter, the weather and the sudden bout of humidity did not deter my sister and her family from visiting.
The kids, despite their age differences played wonderfully together and we all enjoyed great food and great company. Evan and I whipped together a very easy lunch of a summer-vegetable pasta salad and a chicken sausage with sautéed peppers and onions. Sophia was my sous chef.
We deglazed the sausage and peppers with red wine vinegar to cut through the sweetness of the peppers and the richness of the onions. Since the meal was rich and satisfying and the temperatures far too warm, I whipped up a rhubarb compote with home-whipped cream, meringues and fresh berries for dessert… say a non-messy Eton Mess.
Ever since we started dating … over a DOZEN years ago, Evan’s been fascinated by and embraced my Russian heritage. He had already been exposed to Russian culture and language to a limited extent before he had met me, but I think his fascination gradually increased as he discovered how close-knit my family was and how we get together regularly with our cousins and share unbelievably delicious food and loads of drinks, cakes, fresh fruits and great, great company. The food at those summer get-togethers might be what wooed him, but the people are what probably keeps him coming back. To this day, despite having a little one, we still try to come back for at least a few get-togethers back home in the Philadelphia area and have been labeled “Road Warriors” more than once for sometimes making back-to-back visits for birthdays that are a week apart. But I digress…
The food… the food… hand-made dumplings stuffed with meat and cheese and sometimes, when we consider ourselves very fortunate, sour cherries. Handmade blintzes with farmer’s cheese drizzled with berry sauce made from fresh berries, layered cakes, grilled shashliks, home-made Russian potato salad, pickled herring, smoked & pickled fish, vibrant salads, grilled veggies and cold borsht… (queue … these are my our favorite things). There are more, but I don’t want to tease without being able to offer a taste.
While the food is delicious, the thing Evan enjoys equally as much is the company and the flow of a traditional russian grill/bbq/gettogether. There is a great sense of community and a unique set of traditions. That said, partaking in parties is not a complete Russian experience and we don’t live just by attending one party after another. Since marrying into the family, Evan has learned about many different other Russian traditions, quirks, and shenanigans. These include, but are not limited to, things like enduring my mother’s scolding when either of us doesn’t wear a hat in the autumn because being cold will clearly infect you with a cold… or sitting down for a moment before leaving on a big trip.
All these traditions and quirks can be quite difficult to navigate and, since I’ve inherently been exposed to them since an early age, I too sometimes do not realize that something may present itself as a cultural conundrum. Thank goodness for MOOCs (Mass Open Online Courses). Much to my surprise and secret pleasure, Coursera is now offering an online course called “Understanding Russians“. That’s right, not understanding Russian, but understanding RussianS as in the people. Maybe we (Russians) are really that complicated that a whole course is necessary, or maybe there are just so many nuances. Either way, Evan found this class on his own, has signed up and is taking it. I am looking forward to hearing about his experience.
On a separate note, a rather entertaining situation (at least to me) has evolved with Evan and our local Russian grocery store. (Well, Evan would call them “Soviet-style” food stores, but that’s getting technical.) First, I am as surprised as you are to find out that there are Russian food stores in our neck of the woods. Sure, we occasionally hear Russian speech out in public, but not often. Either way, there are two small grocery stores that offer delicacies essential to any Russian household:smoked fish, cold cuts, excellent dairy products, cakes made in Kiev and Moscow, Russian candies, drinks like kvass and tarhun, cookies, ice cream, caviar, and preserves.
I, being a self-confessed sweet tooth, have indoctrinated Sophia into my love of my favorite Russian candies from my childhood. I personally like Strela, but I wouldn’t turn down a Mishka, either. Sophia has really taken to the Mishka candy, which happens to be her father’s favorite, too. There are many other varieties of candies, but those are some our favorites probably because I grew up with them. Both are now made in Brooklyn, NY by Russian expats and are even better than they were when they were made in Russia. Since they are so cherished at home, we like to re-supply quite often and it has so happened that Evan frequently has to make the dash to the Russian store to pick them up. Apparently, since he only picks up these two necessities, Evan has decided that he has made an impression on the owner and is now known as the candy-man. He’s now boycotting the store … I suppose I’ll have to trek there myself to re-supply. It doesn’t help matters that the surly owner keeps trying to ascertain if Evan is Russian by vigilantly scanning Evan’s face for the slightest hint of a smile (which would be a dead giveaway that he is American), and by presenting him with various Russian shibboleths. Most recently,
[Evan plops a couple kilos of candy onto the scale at the checkout counter.]
Surly shop-owner, in Russian: “You sure you don’t want any kielbasa to go with all that candy?
Evan, in Russian: NO.
He may have passed the language test, but no true Russian would have left that store without cured meat.
Is the weekend really over? Time flies when you’re having fun and we really had a great weekend. The only issue was that it was far too short, or it sure felt that way.
Strawberry picking season is finally here and so we headed to the farm bright eyed and bushy tailed this Saturday morning to pick strawberries. Sophia and I fed the farm animals while Evan picked. Strawberry harvesting is not that easy and it almost feels a shame to cook with any of them once you’ve worked so hard to pick them. We opted against making strawberry pies or cobblers or even ice cream and are just eating them out of hand.
We also had a special treat this weekend in seeing our good friends from Philadelphia. They were enjoying a long weekend in Baltimore and were generous enough to drive a bit further southwest to have dinner with us. Sophia enjoyed spending time with their son who is also two years old.
We also couldn’t pass up a visit from my parents this weekend who re-supplied us with Baba’s famous meat blintzes and other delicious treats. However, my parents weren’t here on just a culinary delight delivery mission. It just so happened that Sunday was our anniversary and we got a chance to get out for a lunch-date while Sophia enjoyed some time with her grandparents.
Alas, since the weekend was rather busy with being out and enjoying company, there wasn’t as much cooking as is typical around these parts. I did choose a Chicken with Cardamom Rice recipe from my Jerusalem cookbook that Evan cooked and it was a-h-m-a-z-i-n-g. Here, see for yourself.
You’re probably thinking to yourselves … “where’s the dessert?” Fear not, there were home-made, extra fudgy brownies and home-made vanilla ice cream, too. It was our anniversary, after all!
I have dreamed of this weather, this spring, this upcoming summer since early December when it became obvious that the coming winter was going to pay us back for the past three mild ones. The appearance of rhubarb signals the beginning of spring. There are few things that are better than this red, juicy and tangy plant especially when packed into buttery doughs and topped with sugary confections.
Bright minds think alike and of course my sister and I had ended up baking rhubarb concoctions this weekend. This was most fortuitous because my parents came to visit us for a few days and ended up being the couriers of our baked goodies. We received a very generous portion of a crispy, tangy and sweet cake topped with caramelized meringue on Saturday
and sent back
this rhubarb snacking cake on Sunday. Since we don’t live too close, we don’t get to exchange our baked goodies too often.
