Photos by James Reeder Artwork by Mac
The season that links end to beginning, Winter has always seemed to me to be the archetype of the cyclical nature of life. If there are to be beginnings, there must be endings. The isolation of our consciousness creates a false fear of endings, and thus we are afraid to die. And such is the nature of our forward-looking minds that we die many times in the imagination. This is the burden of intellect. The majority of our non-human kin (as far as we can tell) sees the past only briefly and the future dimly or not at all. Life and death are, and remain, matters of the moment to them.
Ironically, some of us spend years trying to re-attain what was ours at birth. The ability to live in the moment belongs to us as children, and we don't discard it until, in love and with pangs,our adults initiate us into the poignant condition of life... that of ultimate death. Shocked, we begin to look for evidence to the contrary, and we sometimes find it in the mirror of Winter. Regardless of the refinements of religion, philosophy, or belief, it is here we may find comfort, for Winter gives way to Spring and...in our eyes...always has.
From night to night, my journey, The long pilgrimage before me. From day to day, my journey, The stories that will be forever.
Amharc, mná ag obair lá's mall san oích, Ceolann siad ar laetha geal, a bhí, Bealach fada anonn's anall a choích.
Look, women working by day and late at night, They sing of bright days that were, A long way back and forth forever."
Author Unknown
I am a Celt from head to toe. My mother was Welsh/Irish, my dad was Scots/Irish. My husband is Scots/Irish and Slovak. His grandparents arrived, like many, at Ellis Island. They did not meet until they located in Cleveland, even though they grew up in villages only a few miles apart. The grandparents worked hard and raised their kids the best they knew how, and I don't know what else needs to be said. They, like others before and after them, were the tired, the poor, the wretched refuse, and they were gold.
America is a nation of mongrels and outcasts, prisoners, slaves, misfits and surplus.We seem to have the toughness and stamina of all such. Remembering our origins is less an exercise in pride than it is a reflection of the richness of our culture and a commentary on an innate human will to not only survive, but to flourish. And the commonality of our seasonal observations is evidence enough, I think, of the brotherhood of Man. This lies not so much in the details, but rather in the broad passing scenery of the year. We have our festivals in the midst of hardships and deprivation as well as during softer times, and thereby hangs a tale. Whatever gods we thank (or ignore) for our existence, the fact of its affirmation is a living hope...a defiant counterpoint to the essential hostility of whatever parts of the universe we are able to observe or guess at. Black holes, asteroids, vacuum and isolation be damned...bring out the food and wine, for we are here together and there is light in this house.
Vincuju, vincuju na tot Novyj rik, Zeby vam vyrosla psenycja I bib, Snop pry snopi, kopa pry kopi A vy, pan gazda, mezy snopkamy, Jak jasnyj, Misjac mezy zirkamy.
I wish for you this new year A good crop of wheat and beans, Sheaf after sheaf, stack after stack, And that you, dear husbandman, stand among the stacks Like a bright moon among the stars.
Medieval Food Clip Art Courtesy of Greg Lindahl
Ingredients 1/2 lb. Pumpkin puree (unspiced) 1/8 tsp. Clove 1/2 cup Apple Sauce 1 stick butter 3/4 tsp. nutmeg 1 1/2 qt. chicken or vegetable stock 3/4 cup molasses 1qt. light cream (Hot)
Method: Cook all ingredients (except cream) until smooth and hot. simmer 15 minutes. Finish with cream.DO NOT BOIL! Serves 8.
1 package yeast 1/2 cup sugar 1/4 cup lukewarm water 1/4 lb. butter 2 cups milk 6 cups flour 1 teaspoon salt 3 teaspoons cinnamon
Method: Dissolve the yeast with 1 teaspoon of sugar in the lukewarm water and let it stand in a warm place. Cream the butter with the sugar. Add the milk which has been scalded and slightly cooled and then add the yeast. Sift the flour with the salt and cinnamon and add to the mixture, kneading for a few minutes. Place in a bowl and allow it to rise in a warm place to double its bulk. Shape the dough into round buns and bake at 375 degrees F. for about thirty minutes or until lightly browned. Originally, these cakes were shaped like men and women and were given raisins or currants for eyes.
1/2 cup white wine or sherry 2 tblsp. brandy 2 tblsp. lemon juice 2 tsp. grated lemon peel 1 1/2 cups heavy cream 1/3 cup sugar
Method: Combine wine with brandy, lemon juice and lemon peel. Chill for about four hours. Whip cream until it forms soft peaks. Sprinkle sugar over the cream and whip until the peaks are firm. Blend the wine mixture into the cream gently. Serve in tall glasses with a sprinkling of nutmeg.
Serves 6-8
1 4-pound smoked boneless ham 1 8-inch square pan cornbread (homemade or mix) 1/2 cup chopped celery 2 tablespoons chopped onion 2 tablespoons butter 1/2 cup apricot preserves 1/2 cup chopped pecans 1/2 cup beef broth
Method: Place ham on rack in shallow roasting pan. Bake in a 325 degree F. oven for about 1-1 1/2 hours or until meat thermometer registers 140 degrees F. Slice to serve. Meanwhile, crumble cooked cornbread, place in large mixing bowl. In medium skillet, saute celery and onion in butter until onion is tender; stir in preserves and pecans and toss with cornbread. Turn into a greased 2-quart casserole. Drizzle broth over stuffing. Bake at 325 degrees F. for 30-45 minutes, until heated through and lightly browned. Serve with smoked ham.