The play, Fiddler on the Roof, has a song about tradition. It offers an explanation for the stupid things that we do as a society, country or family for no apparent reason. To toast the exit of the old year and celebrate the entrance of a New Year is an excuse to drink and have a party. Why do we do this? Tradition.
New Year's Eve is amateur night. It turns loose all the heavy drinkers of the world and gives them reason to get "blotto" one more time. I suspect that you would be safer standing in the middle of the capital of Iraq without a weapon than driving America's highways on New Years.
Tradition! We never thought of establishing a tradition at New Years. It requires repetition and something unique. We always had good food. Boiled shrimp, boiled lobster tails and steak. Sometimes we opened a bottle of Champagne or fine wine. Any one in the family that wanted to join us was always welcome.
We would try to have the New Years dinner later in the evening thinking that the closer we held festivities to the midnight hour, the better the celebration. Problem was that everyone was hungry at 7:00 PM. So slowly the dinner hour moved closer to the normal dinner hour.
There are several New Years eve celebrations that I remember distinctly. One was shortly after Grasshopper No. 1 had moved out of the house. To say that she was "broke" would be to put it mildly. We lived on North 6th street in Sheboygan. Your mom and I had just started preparing boiled shrimp with all the smells. It had to be done with with Durkee's Shrimp Spice which came in small cardboard containers of loosely held herbs and spices. The spices were poured into boiling water and the house carried the aroma. There was a meek knock at the back door and in walks Grasshopper No. 1. I think her line was "Watcha doing?". She knew exactly what we were doing and of course we invited her to join the festivities. Maybe that defines tradition. Something that everybody does over and over and is predictable. Actually it was nice she joined us.
A second New years Eve included Shea and Grasshopper No. 5. Grasshopper No. 5 had invited Shea to join us and they giggled through the whole evening. No. 5 had learned to mix a 50-50 combination of Hoffman House Shrimp spice and ketchup. I had introduced that because most kids got turned off by full concentration of spicy dip. And they ate and giggled. They giggled and ate. A good time was had by all. I've always wondered whether it was necessary to have the shrimp. I think the two girls would have giggled anyway.
I have noticed my own kids doing similar things on New Years Eve. They buy their own shrimp and lobster. My guess is that their children will pick up on the celebration. Guess what! Maybe we have started something. Could it be a tradition?
I have to admit that I did celebrate some very, very good years. I also ushered out some years that sucked. Thankfully there were more good years than bad. Regardless, the New Year meal takes place. It is done with people you love. It is prepared with good food. It is predictable.
Tradition! Tradition! La-de dum, la-de dum, la-de da de da de dum!!
Happy New Year to one an all.
Love,
Dad
Each year Christmas brings something special. It goes beyond material gifts. The presents are nice but they sometimes distort the true meaning of Christ's birthday.
Last year the special event was when Grandson Dominic saw a light in the night sky as we were returning home on Christmas Eve. It was Santa. It had to be Santa. When we got home, presents were laid out under the tree and Dominic was sure that the light he saw was Santa bringing gifts to our house. I don't know what Dominic saw but that really doesn't matter. He believed in the magic of Santa for just a little longer. How special was that? A star shone!
This year as we approached Christmas Eve our plan was to have several kids and their (spouses or friends) join us for boiled shrimp and 2 inch thick steaks. The following day was the grandchildren "event". They were all coming the following day.
Well Grasshopper No. 1's daughter Dano was going to drive on Christmas Eve from Plymouth to our house but then return to Plymouth because she had to work Christmas Day (that part of the story sucks). Work on Christmas Day? Come on! Shelby's mom Lyla (Nana) who is 95 and very, very quick minded had joined us at Thanksgiving was going to spend Christmas with one of her other kids. Here is how magic works. Dano called her great-grandmother Nana to wish her a Merry Christmas. During the conversation, Dana mentioned she was coming to our house alone Christmas Eve and returning the same night (that is a 70 mile journey). Wouldn't you know that there was some "pixie dust" in the air. Nana volunteered to ride along with Dano for Christmas Eve to our house and then also return to Plymouth the same night. So Shelby's mom got to join us for a very nice Christmas celebration. The company was good. There was laughter. Santa even brought Lyla a gift or two. There is no way we could have planned Nana joining us. It just sort of happened. Kind of like Dominic seeing Santa in the evening sky as he came to our house. So we just kind of count of blessings. A Star Shone, again!
A special Thank You goes out to my life partner who every year seems to get caught up in the spirit of Christmas. She creates magic moments that family will remember forever. Decorations! Food (always special recipes and aromas). And personalized gifts (she always tries to please everybody). She drives herself to the point of exhaustion. She can now recouperate knowing that she made everybody's life just a little better. It is love that motivates her. She should know that everybody loves her back.
Love,
Dad
Remember back in January we decided to save money for Christmas? We vowed to put money aside each week so that when it came time to buy Christmas presents, we didn't go into debt.
Then remember that we agreed that we would not use our credit card during the holidays. We pledged never to charge anything for Christmas again. Insanity is paying for Christmas the following year.
Pat yourself on the back. You had cash for Christmas and that credit card (if you still have one) never got pulled out of your wallet. What a good feeling! I'm really proud of you. Yep, a very special feeling!
Wait a minute! I'm picking up an extraterrestrial signal from outer space. I'm being told that all credit card usage is up rather than down. There is more. Members of my family also continued to use their cards more than last year.
What can I say. We had good intent. Here it comes! "Wait until next year!" We will not charge any Christmas gifts next year. The insanity has got to stop.
Well, what the hell. It is too late now. We are deeper in debt. Christmas is just around the corner. Family. Friends. Good food and beverage. Lots of sharing.
We can be thankful for many things. We live in the most prosperous society on earth. Maybe in the overall scheme of things we are working towards world peace. Christ did show us "the way". So take a moment and enjoy the people around you. That is the ultimate "special feeling".
We'll work on the elimination of credit card debt next year.
A Very Merry Christmas to all!
Love,
Dad
In paging through Mom's Recipe Book ( you all have copies) I decided to pick my 10 favorite dishes. I really don't like to limit my choices to 10, but I promised I would try.
Anything produced on a char-coal grill is excellent. Mom's chili is a "main-stay". Chicken and dumpling soup is required when you are sick. Crockpot selections are always great. Johnsonville sausages are nestled in my meat compartment for snacks. So you see, I have general preferences.
From Mom's Recipe Book my top 10 are:
No. 1 - Pork Chops and Stuffing. Anything with stuffing is good.
No. 2 - Chicken Popovers. You can't eat just one.
No. 3 - Turkey Casserole.
No. 4 - Easy Chicken and Broccoli. Broccoli? Broccoli!
No. 5 - Hearty Fish Chowder. The secret is the spices.
No. 6 - Pork Chops and Potato Scallops.
No. 7 - Swedish Meatballs.
No. 8 - Vegetable and Hamburger Casserole.
No. 9 - Salmon Loaf.
No.10- Sweet and Sour Chicken
My holiday picks over and above the "top 10" would be cold shrimp appetizers, grilled thick (very thick) New York Strip steak and boiled lobster. All that gets pretty "pricey" but what the hell, it is only once a year.
Your mom was always pretty good at selecting tasty dishes and the dishes got progressively more healthy as time passed. Her recipe book lets you go back and enjoy the eating experiences that shaped your life. How many kids can say that?
Love,
Dad
I recently paged through a copy of your "Mom's Recipe Book". I have come to realize that the book is the sensory link to the family past. It contains many of the recipes that our family experienced as you Grasshoppers grew up. For the first time I went through the book page by page, read the quotations and looked at the pictures. I was struck by the awesome number of recipes.
You Grasshoppers are privledged to have a book dedicated to you. Even I don't have that. Imagine the historical significance of having a timeless reference book that you inspired.
It has been 10 years since the book was finished. The copyright date is 1996. Your mother includes her maiden name in the author signature. I have never seen her do that before. I forget that the Steger side of the family provided most of scrumptious recipes! Certainly more than my side of the family.
I find that the book includes many quotes that I have espoused over the years. I don't remember anyone getting my approval to use the quotes. Maybe there is a lawsuit in all this.
OKay! Stay with me now (mentally). This is the deep part. We are all the result of the sum total of all our life experiences. Those experiences include food. All the tastes, all the smells and all the sensory pleasures (or displeasures) that go with food are included in our memories. Mom's Recipe Book lets you go back and revisit most of the memories you have of food and cooking.
Some of my distinct memories of people and food are as follows (most are not in Mom's book):
Your mom as a child could not swallow raw oysters (and still can't). Money bribes won't help.
I can't eat cooked spinach. The "gagging" reflex kicks in.
Kelly won't eat peas (yes, I caused that issue). All the milk in the world won't help swallowing.
Grandpa George liked to eat horse-radish right from the spoon. He must have had a cast iron stomach.
Christopher hankered for fresh bread. He probably was suffering some deep emotional anxiety.
Margaret likes cold pizza for breakfast. I have no idea what is going on?
Nana likes potato pancakes. You need to sprinkle sugar on the top.
Paul used to abuse Macaroni and Cheese. Variety was not in his menu choices.
Debs has become a master of the "soups". Chicken soup. Beef soup. Chili. Maybe it is the healing power.
And so it goes. There are fetish desires that affect us all. And Mom's book takes us there. Who can forget the smell of baking bread? The aroma of boiling shrimp. Soup brewing in a huge kettle.
The book is a work in progress. Recipes are added to the book. Modifications do occur. It gets better and better. And the best part is that is done by your Mom. She gives you a souce of life long pleasure. How special is that?
Grasshoppers stay tuned. In future blogs I will pick my Top 10 favorite recipes. I encourage you to tell me your favorite memories about food. Who knows, some of that "feedback" might end up in the "Book". I have a little (sometimes very little) influence on the author.
Love,
Dad
Tis the season. I know because Saturday the house was filled with smells of chocolate, fresh cookies, and party mix. It was mother and daughters bonding. They revisited days gone by. The one daughter missing was Grasshopper No. 5 who continues to have a web-site stating "I'll be back in two shakes of a lambs tail". Hilary will be President by that time!
I was excited. After all I am the cookie expert. I worked for a cookie company for over 12 years and my vast reservoir of knowledge would be invaluable. Yeah right! Did they ask me about "melt" temperatures on chocolate? No. Did they ask questions about transfats? No. Did they ask questions about hydrogenated oils? No. You get the idea. They didn't need me.
This event wasn't about the baking. It was the anticipation. We all have things that make Christmas special and holiday cookies (and other things) are a big part of that. Peanut butter bases with whole Hershey Kisses placed in the middle are great. You don't bite them. You put the whole thing in your mouth at one time. There are plain sugar cookies, decorated cookies, sprinkled cookies and more. They are layed out on a big table to cool. Grasshopper No. 2 has a fetish for peanut butter balls dipped totally in chocolate and cooled in the freezer with toothpicks sticking out of them. I think both chocolate and peanut butter are an aphrodisiac. What is that all about? Suddenly all cookies are gone. What the hell? I'm told they are for Christmas. So my fantasy day got cut short.
Then there is the party mix. For some reason this is a "core offering". It has to be according to the recipe in Mom's Cookbook. Nana waits for it. Margaret can't wait to make it. Debs has the process perfected. It is part of the Christmas fantasy.
The day starts with exuberance. Then there is competition for the ovens and cookies sheets and mixing bowls. As the "bake-off" continues, tiredness starts to creep in. Being on your feet for hours makes backs sore. Then somebody sits down for a short break. You can't sit down. You realize how tired you are and getting up is difficult. Debs was the first to sit followed by Mom. Kelly was the closest thing to the "energizer bunny" while making the peanut balls in dipped chocolate.
Then there are the dishes. Lots and lots and lots of dishes.
I guess we all were part of the Saturday fantasy. At Christmas we get to eat the cookies and the baking team gets a sincere "thank you" for a job well done!
As I reflect on the whole effort, I don't think the cookies matter much. Anticipation, sharing, bonding - Priceless!
Love,
Dad
Grasshopper No. 5 has not been blogging lately. Something about being back in "two shakes of a lamb's tail". What the hell does that mean. That posting has been up on her web-site for a month.
According to No. 5, she and her best friend (Shawn) were dining at a Minneapolis restaurant (I don't remember the name, but it is in a "seedy" part of town). The food is fabulous however. As No. 5 and Shawn came out of the restaurant, they were less than a minute away from his car. Your mom and I got to ride in Shawn's car back in August when we visited Minneapolis. It was a four door black A4 Audi sedan with stick shift and a silky ride. As No. 5 and Shawn approached the car, they heard a crunching sound. What the hell could that be?
As they got closer to the car, they began to realize that someone (totally inebriated) had plowed into the rear of that shiny Audi. Not only did he wrinkle the back of the Audi, he hit with such force that he pushed the car into a parked car in front of it. The net result was a car that folded like an accordion. I guess the frame is twisted and from the description, "total loss" would not surprise me. The good news is that no one was in the car at the time of the accident. There is a feeling of disbelief that comes over a person as you see your special possession come under attack. All the emotions evolve. Disbelief, shock, rationalization, anger and then resolve that "this too shall pass".
I remember when the lady in the large Ford Expedition backed into my new Saab four years ago. She decided to leave the "line" at a local Kentucky Fried Chicken outlet. She never saw my sleek, low-slung, sporty new Saab wagon behind her. It was sort of like slow motion. I saw her backing up and my mind considered all the options in a nano second. The problem is that I couldn't get the message from my brain to the rest of my body. I wasn't sure what to press for my horn (I did press something but it didn't work). Then my mind sent the message to "back up" to give the lady room. I reached for the gear shift to change it to reverse but I remember checking to see if there was a car behind me. It turns out there was no car but by the time all this got processed, that high riding Expedition with a hugh trailer hitch was tickling my front grill. $5,000 worth of tickling! I went through the same emotions as Shawn. Disbelief, shock, rationalization, anger and then resolve that this too shall pass.
I don't know what Shawn will end up doing but the worst scenerio would be that the Audi will be repaired. It is the worst scenerio because Shawn will always know the car was in an accident and it "will never be right". The best scenerio is that the insurance company of the drunk has good insurance and the Audi A4 gets replaced with something newer, sporty, and fun to drive.
Cars are just things. They can be replaced. Somehow though, guys more than gals treasure a finely crafted machine that they become "one with". There is a despair that goes with damage to your machine. Have heart! There is always tomorrow.
Love,
Dad
Grasshopper No. 4 blogged recently about the blitz of events that have impacted his life. Clearly there are days when life sucks.
Well today is a "full moon". The days leading up to the full moon are suspicious for strange events also. Take Sunday morning for example. Your Mom and I had a full day planned. I walked for an hour as usual. I showered. I went out to the car and turned the key. There was nothing. The Saab went click, click (sounds like the train went choo choo)! That sounds like a title for a book. The car was deader than a door nail. Well I don't handle cars "not starting" very well.
It took me back to college and a book I had to read for a behavior science course. I think it was called "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Ridiing". It was about two lads that embarked on a cross-country motorcycle ride. One guy was very brainy but didn't know a nut from a bolt. He was more into studying the cosmos. His bike partner (I'll call him Max), was a mechanical genius. He could fix motorcycles with chewing gum and Q-tips. So if you had to choose someone to travel through the countryside with, Max was the choice. Max seemed "at one" with the world and understanding the cosmos was not a high priority. In other words he enjoyed life.
Well my Saab was broke. What do I do? What do I do? I called "my guy Max" on Commercial street. He was calm, cool, and collected. Dad, he said, we'll check the car out. We set a time and I had done all that I could do. Grasshopper 3 showed up with his brand new truck, lifted the hood on the Saab and cranked the engine. It was my battery. He pulled a tester out of the truck and it indicated that not only was my battery dead, it was a "bad" battery. We jumped in the red truck, zipped down down to Auto Zone and bought a $59.95 beauty. We went home, put in the battery, replaced a couple of screws and "varoooom", that Saab was back in business. My head mechanic was cool and really seemed to know what he was doing. He took my stress balloon and deflated it.
Now I'm not comparing Grasshopper 3 to Max in my required book reading (or myself to the other guy) but if I ever go on a motorcycle trip with someone, I know who I'll call.
By the way, the guy in the book who studied the cosmos (Max's buddy) ended up in a psycho ward for awhile to regain his perspective on life. No, I don't want to go down that path!
So a sincere thank you to Grasshopper No. 3. My car goes faster now!
Love,
Dad
Dec. 1, 2006 starts with a snow storm in southeast Wisconsin. It is "snow" joke (get it?). Forecast for Sheboygan is 6-8 inches and more if you head south.
I love my local TV station. They are forecasters of doom and gloom. Their name is "your Storm Team" at Channel 5. They are on vigilant watch for you. The term "storm" conjours up all the images of the worst weather outcomes.
The snow storm is different things to different people. Dominic and Tommy won't have school. Happiness reins supreme. Get out the snow suits.
Debs can't get out her driveway without snowblowing. Shit! Tom thought when he left the Wausau tundra that weather conditions would surely improve. So much for that fantasy.
Paul has to make a commute to Manitowoc along the corridor of snow blanketing the lakeshore. I can identify with Paul's plight. You have a new job and want to make a good impression. Making it to work even though there is snow is impressive. Alternatively Highway 43 with winds blowing up to 40 mph is dangerous. What do you do? I commuted to Ripon for 14 years. I hated "snow" days. I made sure I had snow tires, charged my cell phone and packed "snow gear" in the back of the car (insulated boots, gloves, blankets and flashlights). Fortunately I never had to use them. Paul's dilemma is to impress. My dilemma was to show that the "boss" could make it to work, everybody else should too! I did that? Yeah I did.
Chris watches the weather pattern hoping for snow. Calnin-Goss has snow removal contracts with different companies and retail outlets. That means cash comes in. The "snow joke" for Chris will be that our area will be on the very edge of the storm and we potentially will get very little or no snow.
Dec. 1 is the anniversary of a very large snow storm. It was Sunday, 1985. The Packers were playing the Tampa Bay Buccaneers at Lambeau. The snow amounts reached 12-15 inches and officials had trouble keeping the field free of snow. I remember because I was new at Artfaire and I was traveling by car to Kentucky. I left Appleton in deep snow and by the time we reached Chicago, the roads were clear.
So depending on your circumstance, you will feel different about the snow. I guess it is a lot like life. Every event has good and bad associated with it. Make the best of it.
Love,
Dad