Psst. The reason Santa is so jolly is he gets to be the big giver. Ho.
When I had a birthday in high school up at Interlochen, I got a bit of "fall out" in the cards from my relatives, maybe a total of $30 or $40. I splurged my loot in Traverse City buying gifts for my high school friends. They thought I was generous. I selfishly basked in the light of being benevolent, of providing.
I had a fantasy for a long time of achieving wild, fantastic success and buying my Mother and Step Dad a sailboat named the "Mississippi Hot Dog" (after a well known Suzuki Violin phrase) as a symbol of thanks for all the sacrifice over the many, many years.
I suspect this is the root of all this cooking stuff too.
So, my immediate impulse was to thank friends kindly for help and deny it.
I felt embarrassed that my writing about our life could be interpreted as a call for help. I love it when people respond in comments how they are inspired by us.
"Huh," I thought.
"A tale doesn't have to be one of victory to be inspiring."
I love those comments because if feels like I'm giving something.
Every Sunday evening I find myself praying to some un-named God of Fortune/ God of employment, that this will be the week of reprieve. Even though that Judeo/Christian God and I are on unsteady terms, what with all the confusion about the holy writ interpretations, I figure an earnest prayer to God of Fortune/God of Employment won't cause too much of a ruckus up there in the firmament.
A week and a half ago, the Monday morning after the Sunday prayer, there was an email. It was an email offering help from some old friends who I had fallen out of steady contact with, but who had been reading the posts and offered financial assistance.
My immediate impulse was to thank and deny. Apparently my Fortune God /Employment God didn't quite understand what I meant by "reprieve". I meant EMPLOYMENT in a long running show or something similar in my chosen field that would get us back to making our nut and also allow me to secure a larger income base, such as culinary education or the like. I didn't mean for my friends to offer me money.
"Thanks but no." I wanted to say.
Throughout the day Nicole and I tossed it about. We talked of responsibility to our children, whether we're really ready to pack it up and throw in the towel on this particular dream, whether we're in a position to deny the help (which of course is love) from our friends, (simply because we'd rather be the ones offering), whether we wouldn't be smarter to accept what the God of Fortune offers because maybe there's a design here that we can't see yet.
Who am I to deny others the joy of giving, especially when, whether I like it or not, I have been asking? Maybe part of the issue that has got me to this point is that I haven't accepted the opportunities that have appeared, I've only taken the ones I've wanted. Maybe I've been holding too firmly to try to make the life I've fancied and not accepting the one I've been so generously given.
Maybe.
Humbling. Indeed.
We have accepted the gift. I thank you, my old, still loving friends.
I got a call from the agent. I have been offered a reading. 5 days, $100. Pretty good part. New musical by famous writer.
I got a call from my chef friend Louis. Catering a Seder, I get to sous. 1 day, $200.
The day of catering is one of the days of the reading.
I call the agent. "Is it possible that I could miss one of the days?"
"No."
Now, normally what I would do, and what I have done for the last 20 years, is tell the chef friend sorry, but I'm doing the reading. I would accept the financial loss as an investment in the possibility that doing this reading would lead to more employment and maybe even the role when and if it finally becomes a production.
I have decided to go another way. I turned down the reading. I will put on the chef's coat and cater the Seder.
Dear Friends Who Read These Posts and Care,
I thank you and I love you for every one of your kind and tender offerings. I promise to honor and utilize every one. There is nothing that would bring me greater joy than to turn the corner in this serial story and report the fortunate turn of events that I crave. But I allow that my fortune may not be in the form that I wish it to be, and that by following what is given rather than what I desire, well maybe, just maybe I'll find my bliss.
"Whatever you do may seem insignificant to you, but it is important that you do it,"
said Ghandi.
I think he was talking to me.
Try this recipe.
ROASTED SALMON WITH BEET RISOTTO
BEET RISOTTO
2 Large Beets with Greens
6 cups chicken broth divided
1 Tbs. olive oil
2 Shallots, diced
1 1/2 cups Arborio rice
1/2 cup dry white wine
Kosher salt to taste
freshly ground black pepper to taste
3 Tbs. finely chopped chives
4 Tbs. butter
1/3 cup grated Parmesan Cheese
Preheat oven to 450º.
Trim beet stems and reserve greens. Scrub beets. Wrap beets together tightly in foil. Roast in middle of oven for an hour or until beets are tender.
Unwrap beets and, when cool enough to handle, slip off skins and discard.
Chop beets into 1/2 dice. Slice greens into 1/4 inch strips.
In a saucepan, warm the broth over low heat.
Heat oil in skillet over medium high heat. Stir in shallots. Cook 1 minute. Add rice, stirring to coat with oil, about two minutes. When rice has taken on a pale, golden color, pour in wine, stirring constantly until the wine is fully absorbed. Add 1/2 cup broth to the rice, and stir until the broth is absorbed. Continue adding broth 1/2 cup at a time, stirring continuously, until the liquid is absorbed and the rice is al dente, about 15 to 20 minutes.
Remove from heat. Stir in Beets, greens, butter, chives and parmesan. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
ROASTED SALMON
4 Salmon Fillets
Olive Oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Preheat oven to 350º
Place the salmon on a sheet pan, skin side down. Brush with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast for 15 to 20 minutes.
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