Monday, 20 November 2017

So Many, 'Lost in Translation'


The meal is brought to the table. We regale in its sensory feast. Twenty minutes later, the food has been devoured and hunger has left us, temporarily. Such moments are a regular part of daily life. Unless we are the cook, much of what we have just eaten becomes 'lost in translation'.

The other day, I thought of all the cooks who toil in the kitchen, day after day, cooking healthy and lengthy meals, for family and friends. What takes mere minutes to eat: an egg salad or tuna sandwich on sourdough, a bowl of homemade soup, maybe a salad, with fruit compote, tiramisu or hot apple pie, may have taken hours to create only to be gulped down and forgotten. Sometimes, the time taken to make a multi course dinner for friends and family could equal the time spent painting a room, refinishing an antique, or landscaping the yard. Here, the 'labour' is a beautiful transformation that is appreciated, timelessly.

We quickly forget the intensive labour involved in a meal, unless, of course, we are the orchestrators of its lengthy creation. Last week, I spent countless hours, making cabbage rolls. (At times, it seemed like days). Ha. Ha. The rice had been cooked the previous day but not without addition of sauteed 'diced' celery, onions and 'minced' garlic. Diced mushrooms were included, a new twist to this family favourite. In the simmering water, the next morning, I began the task of separating, gingerly, the cabbage leaves from the core of this maligned vegetable called cabbage. (A paring knife was used to make cuts on three sides of the core while tongs removed a leaf from each layer of the cabbage, one by one). A carving fork held the cabbage in place while I deftly snipped here and there, loosening the leaves continuously until most had been separated. Into a bowl went the separated leaves for the task of making the coveted 'holubtsi'.

The thickened 'vein' of each cabbage leaf was removed before filling the leaf with the delicious rice mixture made the previous day. (These thickened ridges of the cabbage leaf are generally left inside the casserole dish to cook beneath the rolls as they protect them from drying out or being burnt on the corners, inside the ceramic casserole dish). (Ceramic rather than metal offers a deeper, more moist heat penetration making the cabbage rolls more tender and more flavourful, in shorter time.) As each layer of cabbage rolls was completed, tomato juice was poured over the top with more salt and pepper added for flavour, in a slow oven of 330, over 2-3 hours. (Diced tomatoes, or sauce is no longer used. Simplify, Simplify). Hours of production disappears, 'lost in translation', when family devours these delicious handmade rolls over the course of three meals. Oh. My. If I wanted well made healthy, delicious cabbage rolls someone had to make them. That person was me, if certain standards were to be met. Food does not create it itself.

As meals come and go, the greatest 'loss' of labour occurs over the holidays where women, traditionally, are the ones stuck in the kitchen even on the 'day'. Course after course appears to the ahs and cheers of the seated patrons. Some of the foods have been made the day before to be reheated in the oven, later the next day. Desserts are generally made ahead of time, frozen till they can be baked or assembled into their expected 'costumes', prior to the meal. The hours spent organizing the celebratory dietary event can be endless. (A book shelf could have been made in the time taken to create another meal masterpiece.) The cost of dining out (over 50% is labour ) might invariably equal the cost a week's worth of groceries and the food might not have been made with the exact standard of care. There is no escape from meal time drudgery.

We admire a new renovation or addition, a recently purchased piece of furniture, a new area rug. We revel in their beauty, time after time. Whether in our home or in the home of another, 'hand made' objects are on display, appreciated, over and over again, their timeless quality and beauty; understood. In the case of a meal, whether in the context of a celebration, a holiday or everyday lunch or dinner, the labour required bears a similar time element for its completion to those 'inedible' objects of our desire. But accolades are few and far between, remembered in a general context, only, over time.

Labour is real in whatever we 'do'. For those of us involved in the daily, mundane acts of food preparation and clean up, it is incumbent upon the rest of us to say, “What a great meal” punctuated with genuine enthusiasm at the beginning of each course. Even the simple words of fermentation, curing, pickling and sourdough, can denote hours, days, weeks, months or sometimes years of 'preparation' and 'labour' to bring these food masterpieces to their standout performances. Their costs reflect that dynamic. Foods such as yogurt, sauerkraut, cheese, artisan breads, wine and meats come to mind.

Without the critical attention paid to the complex, but more often, monotonous rituals of food preparation, health can be affected. Let us appreciate, if not revere, those who work tirelessly, on our health behalf, to put meals on the table and health in our lives. Appreciate those meals, 'lost in translation'. 'Take-in' never tasted so good but 'cost' so little!

Sunday, 12 November 2017

Moments to Remember


As we entered the shoe repair shop, the excitement began to show. (We had been customers for years). Our boys, in grades 3, 5 and 6, at the time, were here to buy 'new' skates. They were cheaper in this second hand shop. Retail shopping for skates did not make sense at this stage of their development. Second hand was fiscally responsible for our family.

We had moved to the country, decades ago, a pond included. It was reasonable to expect that outdoor skating would become a new reality for our family and friends. (Momsey does not skate though attempts were made many times). As I watched the trio being served I was reminded of their helpful, caring ways. They deserved the best we could offer; though, sometimes, second best was good enough. Money foolishly spent now would not be available later when it mattered the most. Skating and swimming were about year round fitness, fun and health. Their costs were more akin to an life insurance policy towards children's future well-being and safety.

I stood near one wall, inside the shop, waiting as each boy tried on his 'new' pair of skates. Dad stood near, supervising the fit for each son. Their dad was a phenomenal skater and had been working towards a career in professional hockey, years earlier, before an ankle injury forced a change in plans. As our oldest walked towards me, a 'new pair', in hand, he seemed quiet. As I looked down at John's new skates I noticed its profound ragged look, akin to an object in direct contact with a grizzly bear. Second hand had been taken to a new level. Yet not one complaint from the boy with the voice who made us laugh. The light colored fabric covering the these skate boots was almost indiscernible from any material I had known. All that remained was a barely-held-together pair of skates. Our son had accepted what had been offered him, in the spirit of the buying moment. Change was in the air.

'John' was never one to complain, none of them were, always ready to help out and take care of his 'buds', his 9 and 7 year old younger brothers and our pet family. In accepting a 'beyond repair' pair of skates without any fuss, John had demonstrated clearly the early lessons of financial security, integrity and frugality only too well. I asked him to return to the line-up for another try at the skate carousel. Dad understood. He had not been looking, concentrating more on fit than fashion. John's kindness, caring, enthusiastic nature with all things pet and family, deserved more, in this exciting buying moment.

Buying new skates is not always possible for families. The freezing cold winter season was short, in some years and the opportunities to skate, not always possible. Used had been a part of our family's philosophy. Why waste money when the future held untold financial dilemmas and decisions, especially with two large dogs and three boys to care for?  
 
When there were three pairs of feet to consider, buying new, for seasonal equipment, rarely made sense. Young boys tendency to grow quickly, in the early years, made buying new recreational footwear a challenge to accept. Wasting money on new could be an unwise decision. New skates would have to wait till they were older.

We strove for the qualities of caring, kindness and compassion in our boys and encouraged their self-expression and reliance, in daily life. Life was never about things, they knew. But in this particular instance, it was going to be. A newer pair of skates, 'intact' and 'showroom ready', left the store with its newest owner,  excited that clearer minds had prevailed.
 
A moment in character building had been on display that day. Moving to the country gave us an ice rink in winter, with predictable surface fractures, requiring maintenance with shovels and manpower. Skating was now more about fun and less about practice. It was now becoming a social event. Equipment had to reflect that.

We left the store, never to forget the story of the well-worn pair of skates. The young boy who could have been demanding, was not. The young boy who could have asked for more, did not. The young boy who could have been disappointed, was not.  The smile on his face said it all. For all his patience and acceptance of what had been given him, he demonstrated courage. His grand smile was all the reward we needed.