What the Immigrants Knew

I've been thinking a lot about what's missing in our society today. Well, there's a whole lot missing, like honesty, political representation, a shared vision for this country, integrity, basic morals and values, to name a few. You probably know how I feel about these issues if you read this blog regularly.

But those are more national issues, visible on a macro level. Today I'm thinking more on a micro level, looking at the core of who we were and what we've lost.

And what we've lost is a sense of community. 

We became segregated first by Covid and now the byproduct of the virus, the convenience and options provided by online shopping, the ability many have to work from home, take out delivered to our front door, the lack of any human customer service, now to a great degree provided by online bots. We have become much more isolated, in many ways disconnected from our shared humanity, by the decline in day to day, face to face human interpersonal interaction.

Political, religious, and racial tribalism is fast becoming another nail in our collective societal coffin. 

I was really lucky. I had my great grandmother, Bubbe (Yiddish for grandmother) until I was in my mid-twenties. In one way, I had her longer than that. My mother's cousin, back when Bubbe was in (I think) her 80s, sat her in front of a tape recorder and told her to talk. She told stories from all the way back to her childhoood in Russia, of the pogroms, how her cousins came to be her half siblings, how they came to this country when her half-brother was (falsely) accused of murder. After she was gone, I still had her voice, telling so many fascinating stories that could have been lost.

But, of course, she couldn't possibly imagine that the one story I've been trying to piece together lately was worth mentioning. This one took place after she came to this country, and married Zayde (Yiddish for grandfather), another Russian immigrant, who I never met.

I grew up knowing that for some amount time, they had taken someone into their home. I can't figure out whether or not at that point they'd had all of their 5 children. I do know that at least some of them were there, so they were a family of up to 7, living in a small house in Roxbury, MA in the early 1900s. I also know that even my great uncle, the youngest of them, knew him well (at some point) and spoke of him in later years. I wish I'd asked my uncle then the questions I have now.

Because now it's kind of muddled, the memories of those of us who are two and three generations removed don't completely gel. My mother seems to remember that the man they took in had a drinking problem, my uncle is pretty sure he didn't. What they agree on is that he needed help of some kind and my great grandparents stepped up. My uncle remembers that he was characterized as a friend of the Goldman (the last name assigned to Zayde and some but not all of the family, at Ellis Island) family. Bubbe and Zayde owned a very small corner store/grocery, and apparently he hung out there, even helped out both at the store and at home when he was needed.

 

I don't know what circumstances led to him living with my great grandparents, how long he was there, or even what ultimately happened to him, other than he was part of their lives for longer than he lived in the home.

Bubbe and Zayde were immigrants living in a small house, running a little community store, and trying to get by. They didn't have much. But their friend both gave what he could and accepted what he needed. He was welcome in their home and shared meals at their dinner table. He became family.

Cranberry Pistachio Cake

 

Now, you may be thinking that Jewish Russian immigrants helping each other out in a new country isn't really much of a surprise. But here's where I make my point.

The man who became like family? His name was John Donovan.

Bubbe's and Zayde's inclusion, their camaraderie, their compassion, reached further than their tribe. It encompassed their entire and yes, diverse, community.

Cranberry Pistachio Cake

                                               ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients:

1 box white cake mix

1 box (3.4 oz) pistachio pudding mix

1/2 cup oil

1 cup milk

3 eggs

OPT: green food coloring

1/2 cup pistachios, shelled and chopped

18 fresh or frozen cranberries

1/4 cup cranberry juice

1 can (16 oz) cream cheese frosting

6 oz cream cheese, room temperature

1/2 cup powdered sugar

2 TBSP cranberry juice

OPT: red food coloring

Directions:

*Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour three 9-inch cake pans.

*Sift 3 TBSP pudding mix (you want the powder only) and set aside for the frosting. Set aside 9 of the cranberries for decoration. Cut the rest of the cranberries into quarters.

*Beat cake mix, remaining pudding mix, oil, milk, eggs, (and, if desired, a few drops of green food coloring) for 2 minutes. Fold in half of the chopped pistachios. Spread evenly into the prepared pans. Sprinkle 1/3 of the quartered cranberries onto each cake batter. Gently press just barely into the batter.

*Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, until the center of the tops spring back to the touch. Cool for 10 minutes, remove from the pans and cool completely. Place the bottom layer onto a serving plate.

*Using a pastry brush, brush 1/4 cup of the cranberry juice onto each cake layer.

*Beat together the cream cheese frosting, cream cheese, reserved pudding mix, powdered sugar, remaining 2 TBSP cranberry juice, (and, if desired, a few drops of red food coloring). Reserve 1/3 cup of the frosting to a piping bag and refrigerate for decoration.

*Use about 1/4 of the remaining frosting to frost the bottom layer, place the middle layer on top and use about the same amount to frost this layer. Add the top layer, then frost the top and sides with the other half of the frosting. Refrigerate for 20 minutes.

*Decorate the top of the cake with the reserved frosting, remaining cranberries, and remaining chopped pistachios.

Four Twenty: Word Counters

  

 

 

Counting my words again. 

Today my fellow Word Counters and I are sharing our monthly group post. Each month one group member picks  a number between 12 and 50. All participating bloggers are then challenged to write something (or a few somethings, as the case may be) using that exact number of words. Today we all share what we came up with.

 

This month's number is 42. 

It was chosen by Diane of On the Border.

 

 

 

~ This month, I'm talking about today's number. Sort of. But switching it up adding a zero, to be exact. Inspired by the number Diane chose, I'd like to discuss 420. No, not blackbirds, that's four and twenty. I love pie, but blackbirdless.

~ And I'm not talking about my anniversary, (though it is 4/20) nor how I celebrate (although spoiler alert: I don't bake bird pies and I only once spent it searching for pot, and found it, but, that's a story for another day).

 

~ You may have guessed, what I'm talking about is 420 in the context of World Weed Day. I was set on this path by two diametrically opposite political attitudes. First, Biden commuted the sentences of 75 Americans convicted of nonviolent drug crimes.

~ The other is Nebraska's governor attempting to sue Colorado over Colorado's marijuana legalization. Talk about sticking your nose in your neighbor's business. Nebraska's Ricketts has (yes, fairly recently) said that cannabis is a gateway drug, and legalization "is gonna kill your kids." 

 

 

~All of this is easily paralleled to the Covid situation. Ignorance should not trump (yes, pun intended) science, and yet it does. In both instances. There are also parallels to prohibition, which didn't end alcohol use, just made the distilling unregulated, unsafe.

 

~Fun 4/20 story: Back in the 1970s a group of California high school kids (called themselves "the Waldos") used to meet after school at 4:20 to smoke pot together. Later, according to urban legend, they'd search for a rumored deserted marijuana patch.

~ The Waldos never found it (ha, Waldo humor), but 420 became their secret code. Not for long (after all, there are no secrets in high school). AND, the brother of one of the kids in the group was friends with a musician.

~ That musician's band? The Grateful Dead. The boys shared with the band, their secret code for getting high (I can imagine the conversation, over heart shaped munchies, I'm sure). The band began using it and sharing it, and the rest is history.

 

 

 

 

Peppermint Heart Meringues

 

 

~ Like alcohol, marijuana is here to stay. The schedule one status is obsolescent, the punishment associated with it, abusively severe. Legalizing it, acknowledging this drug's therapeutic value ensures its properties can be appropriately studied, dosages scientifically developed, and medical use sales regulated.

 

~ I don't advocate everyone smoke pot. I believe that pot, including recreational, should be legal. But let's at least start with compassion, for those with chronic pain, glaucoma, anxiety . . . we cannot continue to allow an archaic unscientific stance to usurp their relief.

 

Here are links to the other Word Counters posts:

On the Border 

Messymimi’s Meanderings 

Peppermint Heart Meringues

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients: 

3 egg whites

1/4 tsp cream of tartar

1/8 tsp salt

1/2 tsp peppermint extract

1/4 cup sugar

1/2 cup finely crushed candy canes or starlight mint candies

3 TBSP multicolored nonpareils

Directions:

*Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Cover a baking sheet with parchment paper.

*Beat the egg whites, on high speed until they get foamy. Add the cream of tartar and salt, and continue to beat until soft peaks form. 

*Add the peppermint extract and, 1/4 cup at a time, at about 30 second intervals, add the sugar and the finely crushed mints. Continue to bear at high speed until stiff peaks hold.

*Using a pencil, draw 15 hearts on the parchment paper, about 3 inches tall each. Turn the parchment paper over. This is important, do not pipe your hearts onto the side with the pencil on it.

*Spoon about half of the meringue into a piping bag or a gallon sized plastic bag with the tip cut off. Following the lines on the other side of the parchment paper, pipe the outline of the hearts.

*Using a knife, scoop the remaining meringue into the hearts and spread to fill them. Sprinkle with the nonpareils.

*Bake for 15 minutes. Turn the oven off, leaving the meringues inside for another 20 minutes. Remove from the oven, allow to sit for 10 minutes, then and carefully peel off of the parchment paper.

Hurricane Hope

 

Hurricane Ian slammed into Florida a month ago. For most of us, it's difficult to watch the path of the storm as it sets its eye on land. Those of us with a heart and the capability to feel compassion, that is. For me, the dread was mixed with deja vu.

 

I think you all know by now that my mom's winter home is on Marco Island. Hurricane Irma put Marco in the bullseye back in 2017, which was the last time I'd seen a CNN news story focused on the tiny Island.

In the end of September, it happened once again. Ian's bullseye was confirmed to be Naples. And Marco is just off of Naples.

That night was the second time I'd seen a CNN news story focused on Marco.

After the initial devastation, as the storm worked its way up the coast, weakening along the way, and we were able to assess the damage in general (my cousin was on the island and kept us informed), we waited to hear about the condition of mom's home. And I got to thinking.

Relief that it was over mixed with heartbreak at the loss of life. And there was empathy for all of those who had to deal with the aftermath, the clean up, the loss, the trauma. Millions were without electricity, their streets were flooded hampering even local travel, and something as simple and life sustaining as food was an issue. Where would their next meal come from?

 

 

 

Wild Mushroom & Smoked Salmon Rotini

 

I remembered the devastation Puerto Rico suffered in 2017 and how the trump administration did not provide the humanitarian support those citizens needed. Not a hurricane, but I remembered Texas's winter storm last year, when Ted Cruz called his friends, gathered his family, and went off on vacation.

And I thought about DeSantis, and what he had just done to target and harm people taking refuge in his state.

All of which, believe it or not, brought me to hope.

Because despite DeSantis's cruelty, my home state of Massachusetts rose honorably to the challenge.

 

 

 

And it made me realize that the tide has started to turn, no matter the level of cruelty by the local administration of the exact state that was now in such a desperate situation, we no longer, at the federal level, reward or punish states based on their local politics. 

We have far to go as a country, just to get back to square one when it comes to how we treat each other. It was a relief to know that under this administration, desperation would once again be met with support, compassion, and collaborative assistance. 

 

Whichever way the wind blows.

And that gives me hope.

Wild Mushroom & Smoked Salmon Rotini

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients: 

2 cups vegetable broth, divided

1 package (.5 oz) dried wild mushrooms

1 box (16 oz) vegetable rotini 

4 - 5 oz smoked salmon, sliced

1 TBSP butter

1 TBSP olive oil

1/2 small onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced 

6 oz portobello mushroom caps, cleaned, stem stub removed, sliced

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp pepper

1 tsp dried dill

1 TBSP cooking sherry

1 TBSP lemon juice

1 green onion, sliced

Directions:

*Boil 1 cup of the vegetable broth. Add the mushrooms and set aside for 15 minutes.
*Cook the pasta to al dente. Place the salmon in the pot with the pasta and cover to keep warm.

*In a large saucepan over medium heat, melt the butter with the olive oil. Add the onion, garlic, and portobellos. Cook and stir for 3 minutes. Add the wild mushrooms with the broth, the additional broth, salt, pepper, dill, and sherry.

*Bring to a boil, reduce heat, add the lemon juice, and simmer 3 minutes. Mix in the pasta with the salmon. Top with the green onions.

 

Sue all Gays? Yeah, That's the Ticket

I would like to take this opportunity to publicly thank a moron.

Thank you, Sylvia, for putting yourself on the front lines of the fight for the rights of intolerant bigots everywhere.

I know I’ve written a lot about gay rights lately. I bet you’re thinking “we get it, enough already.” You could even be wondering when I’m going to climb off that high horse or soap box or whatever it is that has me standing higher than my normal five feet.

Well, today’s post isn’t about gay rights.

It’s about idiocy.

You see, College Boy and I have very similar beliefs and champion many of the same causes. It’s not just because he’s my son. I can assure you that from the time he could talk, this particular son would fight me to the death over whether the sky is blue or the grass is green. If I say it, he says the opposite.

Add to that the fact that he’s college age. These are the years when it’s a rite of passage to develop your own beliefs, reject many of those of your parents. And he does. But when it comes to politics and rights, suddenly and miraculously we’re mostly on the same page.

So when I was in the kitchen the other day making dinner and College Boy read a story about a woman in Nebraska suing all gays, he grabbed a counter stool and sat down to tell me about it.

White Chocolate Berry Tart

And I have to tell you, there is nothing like the arguments of an imbecile to bring this mom and her son closer, laughing till tears ran down our faces. Giggling together like we hadn’t since he was a little boy.

A woman named Sylvia has decided that she is the spokesperson for G-d and for Jesus. And in their name she is suing all homosexuals.

I’m not sure where she got the roster. I certainly hope it’s a comprehensive list, I’d hate for her to go through all this effort and then have to do it all over again if she hears of one or two stragglers.

She intends to prove, using the bible, that living as a gay person is a sin. I’m not sure who told her that a court of law is where you determine what is or is not a sin, but I’m thinking she may have gotten some shady legal advice along the way.

And as proof that it is not just a sin but a premeditated sin, she argues that if the homosexuals didn’t know that their lifestyle was a sin, they wouldn’t have been hiding in the closet.

Clearly a sound legal argument.

She further contends that we, as a society, have become compliant to and complicit in lewd behavior. Kinda makes me wonder in whose windows she’s been peeking.

Now I have to admit that this part has me a little scared myself. Will she next go after anyone not adhering strictly to the missionary position? Are we all going to have to publicly declare our preferences? Will we be pointing at our neighbors identifying them as pro-doggy or anti-doggy?

And finally, because everyone knows that the best way to win a legal argument is to issue a dare to the court, in her seven page petition Sylvia challenges the judge saying that to rule against her is tantamount to calling G-d a liar.

Sylvia then contradicts herself by claiming that she’ll be representing herself in the court case. Wait, didn’t she just say she was representing G-d and Jesus?

And if she is, then isn’t she impersonating a lawyer?

I can’t tell you how many times College Boy and I broke out into hysterics while reading this short article. I can’t tell you how much fun I had looking into his eyes, knowing what he was thinking and guffawing all over again.

So let me thank you, Sylvia, from the bottom of my heart, for being such a total and complete ass.

 

 

White Chocolate Berry Tart

                                                                            ©www.BakingInATornado.com
 

Printable Recipe

Ingredients (makes 24):
8 oz cream cheese, softened
2 sticks butter, softened
1/2 tsp vanilla
2 cups flour
1/2 tsp cinnamon

powdered sugar for dusting

1 box (3.3 oz) white chocolate pudding and pie filling
1 1/2 cup milk
1/4 cup raspberry liqueur
OPT: for alcohol free, substitute more milk for raspberry liqueur
1 TBSP seedless raspberry jam

1 cup blueberries
1/2 lb strawberries, hulled and thinly sliced

Directions:
*Beat cream cheese butter and vanilla. Stir in flour and cinnamon. Form into a ball and divide into 4 segments. Wrap separately in plastic wrap, press down to flatten and chill 1 hour.
*Grease 24 muffin tins. Preheat oven to 325 degrees.
*Remove one ball of dough from the fridge. Place a piece of parchment paper on your counter and dust with powdered sugar. Place the dough on the sugar, cover with the plastic wrap and roll out to an approximately 9 or 10 inch circle.
*Using a round cookie cutter or the mouth of a 3 1/2 inch (opening) cup, cut circles out of the dough. Gently tap each dough circle, sugar side up, into a muffin tin. Repeat with the other dough ball until you've made 24.
*Bake for 25 minutes. Allow to cool completely in the muffin tin.
*While the cups are cooling, place pudding mix, raspberry jam and milk in a bowl. Whisk until well mixed. Add the liqueur and whisk until it starts to thicken.
*Set aside 24 strawberry slices and chop the rest of the strawberries.
*Add 1/2 of the blueberries and the chopped strawberries to the pudding mixture.
*Carefully remove the cookie cups from the muffin tins abd place on serving platter.
*Divide the fruit mixture amongst the cookie cups.
*Garnish with the reserved fruit. Place in refrigerator to set.
*Store leftovers in the refrigerator.

One of a Thousand, #1000Speak

#1000Speak, or “1000 voices speak for compassion” is a social initiative with the goal of getting 1000 bloggers to commit to publishing a piece about compassion, kindness, support, caring for others, the environment or being non-judgmental all on one day, today, February 20th. The objective is that amidst all that we see going on around us, all that we shake our heads at and denounce, the best course of action, the most positive thing we can do as a diverse multinational group of writers is to advance the discourse. We’ve chosen to stand together in expressing positivity.

Why February 20th? In November of 2007 the United Nations unanimously adopted a resolution that starting in 2009 (don’t ask me what they had against 2008, I haven’t a clue) February 20th would be observed as World Day of Social Justice. Making a stance of this size on this particular day makes sense.

 As I read through the UN declaration, one of the things that struck me was the distinction between upholding the principles of social justice and advancing social justice. I see the value in both. It doesn’t matter so much WHAT you do but THAT you do. Whether my words here are viewed as upholding or advancing doesn’t matter to me. The fact that I, that 1000 of us, put our words together in this way and on this day and as this group does. A lot.

When I was very little the school day would start with us all standing, placing our hands over our hearts and pledging allegiance to the flag, a symbol of our great nation. The message I want to express today is a very basic one using some of those same words. The core of global compassion can be found in these final words of the Pledge of Allegiance:

“with liberty and justice for all”

I’ve written two posts that express my feelings about he issue of compassion. One I wrote after a school shooting. It’s called Every Day. When there are atrocities such as school shootings, a marathon bombing, actions that make us feel incapable of comprehension, we’re often left feeling at a loss for adequate words. Every Day is about how, at times where there are no words, who we are can speak for us. What we choose to do in our own homes, in our neighborhoods and in our communities not just in times of crisis but every day can bridge the gap and express compassion.

The other post is called I Apologize and I wrote it in my very first month of blogging. In it I talk about bullying: where I think it comes from, why I believe it continues and one simple step we can all take to impact it. I end with this quote by Eminem. I love the straightforward simplicity of this message:

The challenge, though, is to take it just one step further. I acknowledge that this is an admirable example of UPHOLDING social justice, but what would it take to ADVANCE it? One minor change in the thought process:

PS: I include a recipe in my posts. Here’s today’s:

Recipe for Compassion

                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Ingredients:

Thoughts

Words

Actions

Directions:

*Put a filter in a sieve and place the sieve over a bowl.

*Add thoughts, words, actions and mix well.

*Allow time for the impurities to collect in the sieve and the positivity to trickle down into the bowl.

*Remove and discard the filter of pollutants.

*Keep what's left in the bowl in a safe environment and allow compassion to rise until it’s doubled in size.

*Like a starter dough, keep a piece for yourself and pass the rest down to future generations.