THANKSGIVING DINNER 2019

COOKING WITH FRIENDS

One might have thought that the Wednesday night Thanksgiving ham with cheddar and sage biscuits would have been enough to deplete the resolve of a normal set of amateur chefs bent on preparing another huge meal - not this crowd. The only thing to diminish was the number of chairs to go around the table. This time we were only cooking for our small group of ten.

The meal's prep meeting began by fortifying the troupes with a quick breakfast of leftover ham and biscuit sandwiches, a review of the prep logbook and divvying up of oven time. We had gone as far as purchasing a coutertop oven so Adam's Apple pies wouldn't have to fight for baking time with his wife JoHannah's cornbread dressing.  I was given yet another shopping list which was most likely to keep me out of the kitchen.  It wouldn't be my last grocery trip of the day.  I think I became aware of their concern about my cooking skills when they sent me out for a packet of cheesecloth knowing it would be like searching for a needle in a haystack, therefore  keeping me busy and out of the kitchen for a lengthy period of time.
Unlike most of our home chefs I don't have a signature dish. There's no Lee's rustic green beans or Lee's salted caramel cheesecake, but there is JoHannah's Bourbon pecan pie, Susan's fennel tarts, Jim's potatoes Anna, Randy's Whiskey punch, Adam's spiced apple pie and Rick's balsamic poached figs. I've already admitted I'm not a cook which leads me to admit I'm an even worse food writer, so from here on everything food related will be in the words of someone with much more knowledge on all things culinary. Rick is going to be the food guide from here on out.
Take it away Rick:

Frankly most of our group prefer the white meat of the traditional turkey so it had been decided earlier to abandon the convention of a roasted whole turkey for a nice plump turkey breast.  After being brined overnight, the roasting of the partial bird followed my usual method of covering it with a sheath of butter and wine soaked cheesecloth (Lee did find the cheesecloth but it did keep him away for just the right amount of time), launching the partial bird into a blazing hot oven, immediately reducing the heat to 375 degrees and then regularly basting the breast with a bath of the butter and wine mixture.

Lee's note: Not a fan of turkey but Rick's method produces a juicy flavorful mouth-watering hunka, hunk of burning bird.

In the early eighties while attending Peter Kump's New York Cooking School I learned to make Pommes Anna or as we Americans call it Potatoes Anna.  It is a painstaking process requiring thinly slicing several pounds of Russet potatoes, layering the potatoes into a beautiful nautilus spiral then adding a layer of sweet butter and repeating the layering until the potatoes reach the rim of the iron skillet. C'mon it's Thanksgiving, to hell with the calories!  I have long since abandoned this dish after teaching our good friend Jim the recipe and it is one he has mastered and one we can count on every Thanksgiving.

I have known my friends JoHannah and Susan longer than I can count and we have celebrated Thanksgiving intermittently over the past forty odd years.  Susan makes a mean fennel and olive tart that I think is her own recipe and if not it is one she has certainly perfected.

All I know is that it requires cooking down red onions and fennel in a ton of butter, pouring it into a tart pan, topped with pitted Kalamata olives and baked to a golden perfection.
Lee's note: I went back over the grocery receipts and found twelve pounds of butter bought and paid for and no longer in our refrigerator.

Besides her fabulously delicious cornbread stuffing JoHannah improvised her cranberry sauce this year with candied ginger and a splash of gin. Yum!  I hope she continues these additions in the future.

Besides this spectacular condiment JoHannah has always contributed pecan pie to the dessert table and it is my favorite holiday sweet treat.  As a good Southern gal her secret to this confection is the addition of bourbon. Of course!

Lee insists on poached figs for all of our holiday meals.  Slowly steeped in a good quality balsamic vinegar, with a spice and herb combination of rosemary, orange peel, allspice, juniper berries, bay leaves and sugar.  After poaching and cooling the figs they are poured into a glass container and refrigerated.  They last us through the holiday season if we're lucky.  The real trick here is finding fresh figs in November!

Now JoHannah's husband Adam is the pastry master. Whether used for sweet or savory pies and tarts he makes all the pastry dough. Once all the dough is prepared Adam makes at least two of his particular and utterly delicious apple pies.  The recipe seems to change year to year according to his imaginative culinary embellishments.

Over the years we have been treated to the wonderful additions of raisins or dried currents, some sort of citrus zest or peel whether orange, lemon or lime and I seem to remember once there were nuts.  This year's fabulous fantasy was the amalgam of blackberries.  Delish!

Randy, Susan's husband, can wax poetic on the joys of libations of all kinds.  Now he is certainly not a candidate for Betty Ford but he does enjoy exploring the world of potable wines and spirits.  This year Randy imported whiskey and moonshine from Atlanta and its surrounds to mix two different and utterly delicious punches.  I have never been a whiskey or dark liquor drinker so I know little about these concoctions but what I do remember is that one incorporated iced tea, the house wine of the South and the other peach cider.

All in all Randy managed to raise several common lowly Appalachian ingredients to the heights of a festive holiday brew fit for royals.
Lee's note: Randy was also in charge of keeping the liquor cabinet stocked for the holiday. Although I may have occupied first place in the number of trips to the market Randy was a very close second visiting the liquor aisles collecting an assortment of gins, bourbons and whiskeys. In the short time he was there he attained the distinction of being on a first name bases with the checkout clerks, a high honor indeed! 

Before I turn the keyboard back over to Lee I have to fess up, well my dear sweet friend Susan forced my hand here.  It was Susan who at some point during all our cooking outed me for my Tom Sawyer method of meal preparation.  It is true I do have a sneaky way of enlisting the help of my friends by asking for assistance and then abandoning them altogether, moving on to the next task only to turn it over to my next accomplice.  Susan coined the phrase "Getting Ricked" to describe this method of assembling a meal and I'm going to have to own it! Thanks Susan!

While all the food was being prepped it was Emmy's job to set the table and it required the same attention to detail.  The task included choosing which dinner plates to use, selecting the correct cutlery and pairing those with the appropriate stemware, all with the meals menu in mind.  Then what to do with flowers?

Emmy settled on tabletop ware by Dan Levy, flatware from Patino and Wolf and vintage stemware.  As for flowers,  arrangements of a series of small vases allowing for cross table conversation and finally a scattering of rose petals for color.

Around six in the evening we all, well they all, dropped their aprons and then we put on our Thanksgiving best. There wasn't a dish that disappointed but even the best food couldn't top the knowledge that if we don't see each other for months or years we'll take up again just where we left off...old friends who can cook a mean Thanksgiving dinner.

THE WEDNESDAY BEFORE THANKSGIVING HAM & BISCUIT FETE

NEW TRADITIONS

Over the years we as a family have had traditions that have come and gone replaced by the dynamic of a changing family and a home base that has moved throughout the entire North American continent. Whereas our roots have been dug up and replanted in place after place we now seem to have come full circle, at least for me.

We've now been back in the home of my teenage years for over a decade, a home my parents built. Since moving back we worked hard to turn the house from the home of my parents to a place that now carries our footprint. With this we've moved beyond the traditions of my parents and set up a new vocabulary for our holidays.  Thanksgiving has become a moveable feast happening bi-annually at our home and shifting to San Francisco on the alternating years. Thanksgiving now involves not just the Thursday of Thanksgiving but is extended into a weeklong occasion with houseguests, friends and family. It all commences the weekend before with trips to the local airports in Madison, Milwaukee and Chicago to transport incoming guests, their luggage and non-liquid food products back to our house.

The house transforms into a B&B for the week with every nook and cranny becoming a place for someone to sleep. Even the bar doubles as a makeshift bedroom.

Once everyone has found a place to store their luggage it's time to begin the hunting and gathering process. Food shopping is high on the list requiring dozens of trips to local food purveyors and specialty shops even though the menus have been developed weeks in advance.

Then there's the alcohol, plenty of Cabernets, Brunellos, Tito's vodka, and Jack.

Simple meals are put together on the days leading up to the Wednesday before Thanksgiving with meals like Danny Kaye's lemon chicken pasta, Bloody Mary's and a pizza party from Buck's Pizza, a Madison staple for decades.

Up to this point everything is on a spur of the moment basis with an inventory of the refrigerator calculated and a dash to the takeout menu box.  But it is all a prelude leading up to a tradition we've woven into the fabric of our holiday for a growing amount of years, the Wednesday evening glazed ham with cheddar & sage biscuits buffet.

A full cooked whole bone-in smoked ham is scored, smothered in Dijon mustard and studded with cloves. The ham is then baked and basted every twenty minutes for three hours with a mixture of apple cider, dark brown sugar, maple syrup and a little more mustard until the skin splits and turns a dark juicy brown.

The biscuits are from Rick's recipe with the dough prepared the day before. He combines flour (it must be the White Lily brand, a southern favorite and the flour Rick's Granny Shaver always used) with both butter and a bit of Crisco shortening infused with fresh and ground sage and finally grated cheddar cheese. They don't go into the oven until the ham has come out so they can be served warm.

We invite family and friends in addition to our houseguests for our Wednesday evening informal fete. Everyone staying at the house has an assignment. Their hands and culinary skills are now an integral part in planning the menu.

Randy's whiskey punch was ladled out of ceramic terrine and served alongside a dozen different Italian and regional wines.

Susan and JoHannah competed with skillet cakes, one made with caramelized apples and topped with a sea salt caramel icing and the other made with three kinds of ginger, ground, freshly grated and candied.

Our daughter Emmy worked her magic with the flowers with an enormous amount of help from Susan.  Every room had a signature bouquet with lush blush roses, miniature hydrangeas and seasonal berries.

This is how the pounds abound on the beginning of the Thanksgiving holiday at the Shaver/Melahn home. Next the real meal with all the stops pulled out as everyone labors to beat their signature dishes from the year before.

A FRIDAY NIGHT DATE NIGHT

THE CHER SHOW

I feel so strange talking about having a date night when I'm two steps away from needing a walker to get around. Turns out we seniors can show a little life every now and then and Friday night the pilot light was turned on high.

The whole idea started earlier in the day when Rick after making me brave the morning cold and retrieve his wake me up Diet Pepsi said, "If you really loved me you'd take me to see Cher". He had a doctor's appointment at eleven and I didn't have anything until one so I skipped out right after he left and went down to the Lincoln Center TKTS office to stand in line hoping that the Cher Show would pop as one of the available shows on the digital board showing the evening performances. The good thing was I got there early enough to be near the front of the line. The bad thing was I was sandwiched between two tourists that wanted to gab about and critique every show both on and off Broadway. The woman in front was deciding on her fifth show in four days and the guy behind was decidedly not a musical theater patron.  In the end she decided on The Band's Visit and he settled going to The Ferryman. I was too intimidated and embarrassed to say I was waiting for Cher. I didn't want them to think I was going lowbrow against their highbrow choices. So I lied and said I was hoping for My Fair Lady. When I got to the window the woman ahead of me was still at the other open window and the man behind was close on my heels. I tried to whisper into the little speaker in the glass window that separated me from the ticket person "Two tickets for tonight's Cher Show". The bearded guy with a silk scarf wrapped around his neck sitting on the other side of the glass window lowered his head to speak into the microphone and yelled, "SPEAK UP" loud enough for my line mates and at least several other people in line to turn to see what was going on.
"TWO TICKETS FOR TONIGHT'S CHER SHOW" I was outed.

With an impish smile the ticket master replied "You know you look just like Bob Mackie without all the surgery and that's a good thing. I've got two seats third row center. You can have an upfront view of all your fabulous costumes. Enjoy honey"

When I sprung it on Rick that we had tickets he went directly to his Open Table app and reserved a table for two at Bond 45.
We were set for one of our rarest occasions: a real Friday night date complete with all the fixins.

Six-fifteen saw us dressed in our best and out the door. Bond 45 is a very traditional Broadway feeding house more appealing to a tourist and out-of-town crowd, but with an interesting menu.

We started sharing a small plate of fried olives with a calabrese aioli dipping sauce and a crusty Italian table bread.

We both settled on pastas as our main courses. Rick chose a fried artichoke spaghetti Cacio Pepe

and I went for a guanciale bacon spaghetti carbonara topped with a poached egg that oozed out its golden nectar once you opened it up with a fork. They kept our flatware down to a minimum with no pretentious spoons for spinning. Our timing was off so it was the check without dessert. That would have to wait until after the theater
We really did have third row center seats right on the aisle and it was fabulous.

When I was very, very young and trying to find my way into the film industry in Hollywood I started out working at Propinquity, gift store, on Santa Monica Boulevard. It was a hot spot and a big draw for a celebrity crowd. A pair of brothers, John and Dudley, owned the store but Cina ran the place. She had a personality that was bigger than any star that walked in the door. She came from a big wealthy family from Grosse Point, Michigan and several of her siblings had made the trip to LA with her.

Her brother, Curt, was an aspiring songwriter and the bouncer at the Troubadour, LA's premier venue for new talent. After work on many nights Cina and I would walk down to the Troubadour and Curt would let us in to see the show from the back entrance where the talent entered and exited to the open stage platform. It's where I first saw Cher sitting at a table with an entourage. She sparkled then with that mane of long straight hair the color and sheen of black marble. When she left she went out through the back entrance where we were standing. She said, "Excuse me" as a few strands of that black hair whipped me on my shoulder. Not much but enough.

All of this came flooding back as we slipped into our seats. The theater can be many things. It can be shear escapism, it can be edifying and it can be emotional cathartic. What I didn't expect was The Cher Show to be all of the above.

The escapism is what I had expected. The music itself repeats itself over and over again in your head. Rick was so into it he began singing along to my annoyance until I heard the lady behind me doing the same thing. I still feel if I wanted to hear them sing I would have bought a ticket to their show at their theater. I was here to hear the professionals but I got over it.

Broadway is blessed with so much talent and the performers in The Cher Show were no exception. Being in the third row when the lead Cher (there are three of them in the show) sang "Believe" near the end of the second act and real tears began to roll down her face it confirmed that acting isn't a silly game but a real talent. Doing a show eight times a week and being able to find that emotion each time is something not everyone can do.
The show does a fair job of encapsulating Cher's life. In a musical that was filled with fluff and humor there was also a lot of attention paid to failure and redemption. You hardly ever think that someone as iconic as Cher could ever have faced such ruin and betrayal. It makes the meaning of survivor all the more a deserved badge she can proudly wear.

At the finale the crowd was on its feet and dancing in the aisles. I'm not sure what everyone's motivation was for choosing to go to the Neil Simon Theater that night but I know we went in order to update our gay card and get it reissued. What all of us got was a lot more.
Dessert is going to have to be left to your imagination.

POSTSCRIPT:
To those highbrow theater snobs, including those in line with me at TKTS, guess who won the BEST LEADING ACTRESS IN A MUSICAL Tony Award … yep Stephanie J. Block as the current/contemporary CHER !
















THE GALLERY

Cher for Vogue, 1974
Richard Avedon, photographer
Represented by Fraenkel Gallery, New York

THE TWA HOTEL AT JFK

THE 60's REVISITED

In the 1960's a pencil thin Twiggy was the rage but curves were sexy in architecture. Eero Saarinen was commissioned to design a flight center for TWA at JFK Airport. The design would become iconic as it pulled away from the brutalism of the Bauhaus and turned straight walls into conch shells. Unfortunately the 60's made way to the 70's, then the 80's and the 90"s and TWA didn't last  - the flight center closed. The building remained vacant for decades. To American's great good fortune New Yorkers have always been at the forefront of preservation. Unwilling to let such a significant piece of architectural history meet the wrecking ball the terminal was first declared a city landmark in 1994 and then listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 2005. It's ability to remain a viable terminal collapsed when Terminal five was built between it and the runways. It was eventually up to JetBlue to come to the building's rescue converting it into a hotel that opened in May 2019.
It's an easy but long subway ride on the E train out to a transfer point for the AirTran and a drop off at Terminal five,  but boy is it worth it.
The hotel is nothing less than theater even if you aren't planning on staying at the hotel. My first visit was just to see the space for myself. My next will be to book a room, take a drink in the airplane lounge called CONNIE and then a jump into the infinity pool on the top floor.
From the hosts dressed in TWA uniforms, to the bits of history spread around like the halls of a history museum, to the lush signature red of the decoration.   Whether you're a tourist or a native visiting the TWA hotel should be a must on your list of things to see along with the Empire State Building, Rockefeller Center and The Statue of Liberty.
Enjoy!