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Cooking and Baking Marathon for Dad
my father, robert maxwell levy, has just turned 93 and he is finally living his dream. he regrets not having the energy to do all he was planning such as setting up a blacksmith shop (he has the anvil but not the forge—yet), or producing bird houses for sale on the internet, but how many people get to complain about anything at 93 years of age!
as a boy growing up in the bronx he dreamt about living off the land—i think this is now called sustainable agriculture. about 20 years ago he came closer to this vision when he bought a huge hip-roof barn and several acres of land in upstate new york and persuaded my mother to leave new york city. they lived in an airstream trailer while he reroofed the barn using affordable batches of mixed shingles he bought at an auction, placed randomly, and was photographed by the troy times record atop his roof, and described as a local artist who had created a patchwork quilt roof. it has become a scenic destination.
but then my mother grew ill and died and his younger sister ruth also became ill. so my father spent close to 10 years in pompano beach florida caring for her—his heart still in grafton. and when she died two years ago he informed us of his will to return. to keep him from driving up himself (and believe me he would have) my brother flew in from california, and rented a Penske truck. our father is the ultimate packrat and insisted on taking everything including my aunt’s medications that were long expired and other equally useless things, but it never paid to argue with him so there they now sit in the barn along with boxes of other collectibles.
our dad lived with his friend bucky until bucky became ill. dad finally purchased a mobile home and with my brother’s long distant help got it installed far off the main road. his dream was to put it further into the woods, which would have afforded a magnificent view of the distant berkshires but he realized it would make it too inaccessible, especially during snow season which is long up there. he also had wanted to build his own home, but the mobile home was his compromise position and with admiration and trepidation we helped him make it happen.
my brother also found a wonderful part time caretaker, shelly, who three years running is the top female winner arm wrestler of grafton (the top male is number one in the country).
Shelly certainly has the strength to support my dad when he needs it and the cheerful, energetic disposition to keep him going as left to his own device he will sleep 90% of the time. my mother long suspected he had narcolepsy and i’ve teased him about only being 20 years old because the rest of his years have passed in slumber.
all this will partially serve to explain why i dedicated 10 days end of june/beginning of july to bring my father to hope and cook and bake myself silly for him, as i haven’t had the opportunity to do this for many years other than occasional visits to pompano. we drove up to grafton from hope to fetch him, staying overnight at the lovely grafton inn run my elsie and ken—my dad’s friends.
mostly it was a pleasure to have the luxury of this time alone with my father, hemming his trousers, sharing stories, and sometimes being extremely irritated at the slowness of his pace. this sounds unsympathetic but you have to realize that my father has always moved at a snail’s pace as if he had an endless eternity in which to accomplish his goals and it looks like he was close to right. but watching him eat peas in the pod, one pea at a time, almost drove me over the edge. i suppose it was perfect medicine for me—always behind—always running, sometimes tripping in the street—never able to waste a second in relaxation. now i was forced to slow down a little. actually a lot.
dad gained at least a pound a day which is fine. he has low cholesterol and will lose the weight quickly as he complains bitterly about the quality of the senior citizen meals and asked me for tips on cooking which he does do on occasion. it was hard to make our favorite things and not eat myself but the effort balanced the weight gain so i was behind only 2 pounds which i have since lost.
we drove him back to grafton the day after the fourth of july with a whole challah sliced and ready to pop into his freezer.
grafton was about to celebrate its 200th anniversary so i knew dad would be busy enjoying all the events and not be too home sick. before leaving we had lunch in troy at his favorite chinese restaurant “plum blossom.” a local retarded man did all the lovely wood carvings.
on the way back to grafton we stopped to photograph the fantastic eagle wood carving which stands in front of the grafton town hall.
before leaving, we made a visit to the beautiful and impressive peace pagoda. Dad rested in the garden while we visited the chapel and peace pagoda itself.
and on the way back to hope we talked about retiring to grafton. i just wish it were a little closer right now so i wouldn’t have to pack so many daddy meals into such a short time! i’m already planning for next june.
HERE IS A LIST OF THE FOOD HIGHLIGHTS:
Cocktails and wine
gin and tonic with loads of lime
several excellent pinots including an 05 Taz from santa barbara (my dad still prefers manichevitz—i should have gotten some—though i don’t)
a fabulous 2002 whitehall lane reserve cabernet
a sinksy 06 rose
Dinners
lamb chops from the local farm, beets, with currant bulgur and garlic scapes
goose butts on the grill with candied red cabbage and wheat berries
aged ribeye steak and yorkshire popovers, grilled vidalia onion halves
roast duck on the grill with bing cherry sauce and kasha varnishka
pork belly on the grill with bean soup made with veal bones (i told dad it’s a winter dish but he just HAD to taste it—and then pronounced it the perfect meal for men working all day in the fields!)
grilled lamb ribs, grilled string beans, and potatoes lyonnaise
Lunch
french ham for sandwiches on the beer and multigrain breads
grilled pepperoni pizza
Bread
beer bread
multi grain
bagels & challah
Breakfast
bagels
pancakes
goose breast bacon & basted country eggs
Dessert
banana cake with caramel ice cream and fresh peaches
cherry pie with pâte sucrée crust (his request)
golden almond cake
white velvet cupcakes with strawberry mousseline
cherry vanilla ice cream cones at the “bistrot” down the road. (did you know that bistrot in russian means quick, as in fast food?) a french neighbor in ny told me that after WWII, when the russians came to paris, and ate at the small restaurants they were always saying “bistrot bistrot” and that is how the bistrot got its name! i bet i’m in the only one in hope/belvedere going to the stand that knows what the new russian owners really meant by naming it as they did! (no longer!)
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i LOVE knowing this and will pass it on to my father and shelly tilly (she probably already knows. they will both be so pleased to know i heard from you.
Reply to this Posted by: Rose Levy Beranbaum | December 14, 2007 9:50 AM #
The story of your father was beautiful. I am so glad you got to stop at the Grafton Peace Pagoda. I have been there many, many times - the land was donated by my uncle - Hank Hazelton, or as we called him Uncle Henry. It was a farm and I remember it as a vacation place when I was younger. I still see the goats and horses running in the pastures. It was and still is a beautiful and peaceful place to visit. Just thought I'd pass on a little trivia to you.
Reply to this Posted by: Patti | December 14, 2007 9:45 AM #
i've been waiting years to get one myself and now i have to persuade my husband to help me collect it as i think it's slightly higher than our highest ladder but i'm determined!there was a much smaller one in reaching distance a few years ago and to my disappointment, i waited too long and it disintegrated from the winter snows.not sure how long i have to wait until the wasps vacate but i read after the first frost. i may wait a little longer and make sure there is no activity!
Reply to this Posted by: Rose Levy Beranbaum | September 6, 2007 7:30 AM #
Hello, I collect hornet's nests, and wasp's nests. The one in your yard is really beautiful. Should they vacate would you be interested in selling? I am an Interior Designer - I have these placed in large flower arrangements. Thank you, Paula
Reply to this Posted by: paula | September 6, 2007 2:07 AM #
yes marilyn--this is very sad and very generous of you, especially at such a hard time, to offer this reminder of how we must celebrate life every moment we can.
Reply to this Posted by: Rose Levy Beranbaum | August 9, 2007 12:50 PM #
Oh Marilyn - I'm so sorry to hear of your loss.
Reply to this Posted by: Patrincia | August 9, 2007 11:26 AM #
Rose,
Thank you for sharing. My Dad died last week, and the family gathered for his burial on Monday. Continue to treasure the time you spend with your father - more wonderful memories to fondly recall when he is no longer physically with you.
Marilyn
Reply to this Posted by: Marilyn Peterson | August 8, 2007 11:00 PM #
Rose, I had met you father already, through the BB. Thanks to him, and to the other people you talk about, you make bread baking a real, social, warm, human activity. I love whenever you tell that you asked for his opinions, or when he expreses his points of view about the book.
Your father is a real gentleman, who knows how to treat peas respectfully , I, for one, should learn that from him!
I wish I had my grandpa by my side, now, to share with him the bread I'm learning to bake. I wish I had had more time and patience for him during his last years. You´re so fortunate to have each other, enjoy it!
Thanks for sharing him with us, Rose!
Reply to this Posted by: Silvia | August 6, 2007 12:31 PM #
Yes - pics of the luggage and roof please!
Oh Hector, you can do standup comedy if you ever decide to quit baking!
Reply to this Posted by: Elicia | August 6, 2007 11:18 AM #
I can't believe Hector wants you to photograph your luggage! That's funny. I am still laughing about his cast iron pots with bread rising on the delayed plane!
I love this post about your father. Bless his little cotton socks. He was in his seventies when he re-roofed the barn. That's pretty darn good. I would like a picture of the quilted roof top after you've done the luggage.
Reply to this Posted by: Melinda Pickworth | August 5, 2007 2:07 PM #
Rose - "did i explain that he would not even pick out the next pea until the preceding one was swallowed?!"
I wasn't there, but your descriptions make me feel as though I had been!
:)
Reply to this Posted by: Patrincia | August 5, 2007 1:42 PM #
Rose, this short story is your best book! Thanks for sharing such personal pictures. Mr Beranbaum is 'peas' cute! and he looks larger than life even behind that amazing challah! I got so inspired that for this weekend's bread I have cut down 50% water on the Basic Sourdough Bread and attempt to braid it 4-strand.
On your next trip like this, can you photograph your luggage? I would like to see what baking equipment do you carry on such important cooking missions!
I am heading for Sunday Brunch, and are already wishing you made all the food!
Reply to this Posted by: Hector | August 5, 2007 12:53 PM #
i was 5 when my grandfather died and he was my favorite person. i also remember vivid details as if it were yesterday. the one of many that leaps to mind was on the beach near where we lived when it started to rain and my grandmother said: quick max, give the child your shirt. and as he was unbuttoning it i said: but won't he be cold? and my grandmother assured me it was alright.
i learned from that moment that the old protect and cherish the young and that life, especially new life, is very fragile and very precious.
Reply to this Posted by: Rose Levy Beranbaum | August 5, 2007 8:45 AM #
Rose, what a lovely story and lovely food! My dad passed on when I was only five and I never really knew him. But there are vivid memories of some moments shared with him that somehow are still clear in my mind.
Reply to this Posted by: Elicia | August 5, 2007 8:40 AM #
thank you all.
my father was a paratrooper in WWII and was left with the distinct impression that anyone who pays to jump out of a plane must be out of his mind!
re the peas--did i explain that he would not even pick out the next pea until the preceding one was swallowed?!
Reply to this Posted by: Rose Levy Beranbaum | August 5, 2007 8:26 AM #
Gosh that sounds like fun! Wish I could do the same with my father. He died several years ago. He used to send me pictures of food he'd made; roasts, pickles, a pie, white bread...all that good stuff dad's like. I have a great memory of him teaching my husband how to brine and smoke a whole salmon. Boy, they had fun. Thanks Rose, for the great stories and pictures.
Mona
Reply to this Posted by: Mona Lyn Reese--The Bangalore Baker | August 5, 2007 5:33 AM #
Rose - how wonderful you are able to do this for your father, and how wonderful he is able to enjoy it all at his age.
Thanks for sharing - btw, I love the part about the peas - very funny!
Reply to this Posted by: Patrincia | August 5, 2007 2:05 AM #
That is amazing Rose :) I'm glad you got to spend some time with your dad and cook for him. That's how I express love best, by cooking and feeding people :)
Reply to this Posted by: Ahona | August 4, 2007 8:49 PM #
Rose, how wonderful that you were able to spend this time with your dad. Really a gift for both of you.
Reply to this Posted by: Theresa | August 4, 2007 7:50 PM #
I've really loved reading this , Rose, as my father would have been 94 this August , we lost him 3 years ago , and he was just like your father, so independant , so strong-willed, so infuriating at times! I so wish he was still with us. He fought in the 2nd. World War and had so many stories to tell but sometimes we didn't have the time or patience to stop and listen. God Bless him.
Reply to this Posted by: Jeannette | August 4, 2007 4:36 PM #
How wonderful that your dad is still able to do so many things and enjoy himself, and how sweet that you could spend some time there with him, helping. With all that baking, it doesn't sound like you slowed down a whole lot, really!
Reply to this Posted by: Kitt | August 4, 2007 3:59 PM #