In a binge like fashion- one episode at a time- we reconnected with old friend’s, while streaming our constants

and rearranging the table for some new welcomed additions. Run on sentence counters you got a whopper there. At any given moment a text, an email or a rare phone call could get us engaged in exuming memories, catching up on daily doings of our everyday peeps, or learning something new about someone new. “The Luckiest People in the World.” Yes, Barbra with an A – you got that right. No better stocking stuffer, in the absence of an eye to eye, mano to mano, or a great big , juicy bear hug than an interchange of sharing with no limit on caring. Wow, so you liked Columbo too. Really- “ in the hours before the morning walking home I passed your door and sent a special prayer up to the room on the second floor.” In that one sentence the idea of crooning, swooning and dancing the night away feels right outside our door. Johnny Maestro, so glad you had a love affair with The Brooklyn Bridge. As the sun is rising and the dailys kick in- I position myself for my virtual canasta game and learning about the new blood. We continue counting the days until the gates are opened and we welcome a side swap in the form of someone cutting in line at Bloomy’s, and not having to sanitize the outside skin on our avocados. So for today as we prepare to start binging The West Wing, we defrost some chop meat for dinner and look ahead all the time remembering “The Way We Were.”

To the belief that we can start believing we have leadership who will care about “Us” first. The feeling we were independent contractors thrown into the sea and having to find our own path home is nearly gone. Our swim to shore is rounding it’s last lap. Naysayers might offer the wishful thinking perspective that only time will tell. Just for today we choose to sigh relief, feel we discovered a map with clearcut directions toward the door, letting us out of the doom and gloom room and out of the dark.
The ensemble of “our table” is a favorite allegory always offering who we choose to sit and break bread with. The Algonquin Roundtable was a group of New York City writers, critics, actors and wits. They met for lunch each day at The Algonquin Hotel from 1919 until roughly 1929. A favorite quote from Harold Ross, “ I asked Ring Lardner the other day how he writes his short stories, and he said he wrote a few widely separated words or phrases on a piece of paper and then went back and filled in the spaces.”
Today we completed a chapter, the story is not over, but the writer’s block is gone. We can now assemble our table of choice, air out our sense of trust and hope we will never lose our way this far from home ever again.

Recipe for long living, long ago. How many had grandparents who lived well into their 90’s? Maybe they knew Vic Tanny existed but they were too busy working hard, cooking and baking and smoking cigarettes to get to know him well.

Our Grandmother, (Bubby Chicken), for those in the know, led with an indomitable spirit. She had a startling ability to push unpleasant thoughts down the block and across the street. She was too busy to worry about what so and so said or thought. With rolling pin in hand and her grater not far away she filled part of her days. We often wondered if she slept with her apron on as it was ever present and the first thing we noticed when we ran in for her endless Hug. 

We believe she was the prototype for the ”I’m gonna live forever, I’m gonna learn high to fly” lyrics. So, noodle and or potato pudding, apple cake, rugalach with raisins and jelly and her famous candy bowl filled with hard candies were things we came to depend on. We never knew how we would make it to dessert as we were left stuffed with carbs, salt, schmaltz and gribenes(for those in the know.) And- just in case, she had her trustworthy mylanta, gaviscon- or “here mamala have a tums” waiting on the counter next to the left over flour and right under an old plant that still had the ribbon and card on it from last Mother’s Day.

In the absence of probiotics, papaya enzymes, lactaid free whatever’s, Pilates, colonoscopies, portion controls, calories counts on products, our grandmother and her friend’s lived forever.

Were their stomachs better equipped? Was it not considered abuse to reach for the sugar and go for the salt first? Perhaps endemic to generations long ago who focused less on Vit. D levels and more on how good Halavah tasted, whether it was marble or chocolate covered. The conundrum eludes us, how about you?

A three pronged example of a lifestyle fast forwarded is a workout on the treadmill, a bullet green shake and dashing off to have our blood work tested after a 50,000 unit Vitamin D regimen to pump up the numbers. Bub,we all miss the high caloric, straddled with confectioners sugar way you celebrated life. By the way thanks for palming us the good luck gelt every time we left your side.

Dear Kindly Dr. Fauci
We get another chance
The world is out here cheering
To the tune of the Rain Dance
Our chartered course has taken a detour back from-hell
The streets are filled with cheering
The announcement broke the spell
A day for proclamations to lead with
Science first
We are on the road to better we’ve seen both sides of worse
We hope you are out there hiking
The mountains that you climb
Filling up with endorphins
Perhaps a glass of wine
Take a bow
Then take another
We are waiting for the word
You’ll have a new beginning to finally be heard
We trust within short order you will be back on the scene
Within the depth of brillance
To help bring us a vaccine.

Melancholy and Marvelous and Dearly Missed.
My mother loved FOOD! Shopping, unpacking, organizing the refrigerator, preparing, cooking, eating, wrapping leftovers, cleaning out the refrigerator, eating some more. She studied food and became a dietitian. Studied some more and with her masters degree was titled Nutritionist. Later on, at the age of 50, she got an M.S.W. in social work. Perhaps she wanted to figure out through research why food was always top of mind.

As kids we relied on radishes cleaned and in the original tupperware with salt and French dressing as an after school snack. Sometimes we opted for Buitoni Raviolis, yum as I think about it now.

We waited around and did homework until dinner, which was often something breaded, something fried with Le Seur Peas and a baked sweet potato. We looked forward to broiled baby lamp chops- we still do. The melody lingers on. Snowballs, hostess cupcakes, twinkies, drakes ring dings, yodels -yum and yum. Euphoric, gastronomic recall. Soph saved the Lindt Chocolate for her mj and card games. 

As the culinary seed was planted I waited for it to sprout into my type of gastronmia. I too, love food. However, everything else around it feels equally as appealing. I have an extensive salt and pepper shaker collection. Varied, and meaningful pieces collected from places I’ve traveled to antiquing and gift’s from my niece’s, sister’s, friends and now grandchildren. – From places they’ve traveled to. So thoughtful, so cherished. A potpourri of antiques, silver, blown glass, handmade ceramics. Betty Boop and Harley Davidson sets hang out in my cabinet together. Dishes, silverware and amber glass represent my treasured items. Flowers and table settings add to the allure of our meals. My collection of soupcons (fancy serving ladles) were fun finds.

Shopping for the ingredients at outdoor markets and researching who has the best mozzarella and filet mignon, a fun past time. Aligning the seats for comfort and space adds to the canvas. I make sure the creases in the napkins are well pressed and the water glass is properly situated. Once the candles are lite, I get dressed. With the the ice set up on the bar and lemon and lime slices cut, it is now show time. As the final touches are in place, all the while I have the oven on, the flames on low and I check my “something breaded, something fried.“ I learned from The Best.