Chicken Osso Bucco - A Taste of Heaven

Last week, while working in my daughter’s catering kitchen, Erin’s Fine Foods, I couldn’t get over the fantastic aroma that was coming from the oven. Finally, Chef Jeff took out the large hotel pan and gently laid it down on the silver prep table. I put down my knife and had to walk over where the aroma was wafting from, and see what fabulous creation was in the hotel pan. There in the pan in a golden colored liquid were chicken legs, large cuts of celery, carrots, potatoes, green beans, and chunks of onions. The aroma wasn’t the only thing that was tickling my nose. The beauty of the dish itself, the rich looking golden gravy and the colors of the vegetables was something to behold.  I was able to take home a small take out container of the dish. I tried it at home and thought that if food is heaven, I was there. The flavors were to die for. I ate each mouthful as slow as I could and wished for a second and third helping. But I had to settle for the one helping. When I was finished, I remembered the richness of the dish. Although it was rich and hardy, I still remembered it on my taste buds. And 24 hours later, I am inspired to write a small piece about it.

 

The next day I asked Jeff what he put into the dish and he told me there was butter, some cream and stock, along with the spices. He cooked it in the oven for a long, long time.

 

My daughter will be putting this dish on her take out menus. It is a perfect meal for the coming cold months. Whenever Jeff makes this dish, my orders will be in for it as well. Next time, I want a lot more of the Chicken Bucco.

 

And to Chef Jeff…you are a true chef, and a true artist at what you do!

Dante Alighieri

About three years ago, I became interested in the Italian Cultural Gardens, in Cleveland, Ohio’s cultural district. I interviewed, Joyce Mariani, director of the garden’s foundation, who has been spearheading the rejuvenation of the gardens. My story was published in this spring’s issue of Primo Magazine, an Italian American publication.

 

The Italian Cultural Gardens is one of about 26 nationality gardens, located in the cultural area on the East Side of Cleveland, along Martin Luther King Drive. This area includes the museums, botanical garden, and much more.

 

One of the crowning achievements of the garden was the recent unveiling of the beautiful bronze statue of Dante Alighieri, the father of modern Italian language and writer of The Divine Comedy, one of the greatest literary works in Italian and a masterpiece in world literature. The statue was carved by sculptor Sondro Bonaiuto, a Clevelander.

 

During the process of writing my story, two years later, Sondro Bonauito finished the Dante statue, and it was dedicated in the garden, this July. Although I hadn’t attended the unveiling of the statue, this summer while visiting a friend, we drove to the cultural garden, where I viewed the statue. It is absolutely beautiful and breathtaking. The greenish bronze of the statue makes it look as if Dante has been in the garden for years, quietly watching and approving the renovation of the garden. I took photos of the statue…close ups, ones at a distance, and I snapped all four sides of the monument. The statue spoke to me and I was taken with the peaceful and wise gaze of Dante. Because of these feelings I wanted to conduct an interview with this great master, but I settled for a number of photos.

 

I actually had a hard time leaving the garden, after taking the pictures. Then when I realized that I played a little part in getting the story out about Cleveland’s Italian Cultural Garden and the statue of Dante Alighieri, I turned my camera off, knowing that I would have photos and a magazine article reminding me of my accomplishment.

Rhythm of Friendship

My friend, Elaine, will probably be leaving Cleveland soon. She is going to move to Texas to be closer to her son and his family. For that obvious reason, I am happy for her.

 

Each time we get together, it is like a clock winding down. Like the last weekend we spent in Cleveland, we kept wondering out loud whey we hadn’t gone to more plays, or done more things together. But that is usually how it goes.

 

For me, Elaine, has always been around when I needed a shoulder to cry on, her home became a safe harbor for me when I was going through life changing experiences. We have laughed over movies and funny happenings. and cried over our losses.

 

We have been friends for over 40 years (wow – that is a very long time) a life time! When Elaine sold her house, she let me take whatever I wanted. One thing that I loved and truly lusted after was a beautiful portrait of a young, Native American woman, called “She Dreams in the Rhythm of the Waves”, by artist Patricia Wyatt. The picture is beautifully framed and matted and measures 28x46. Instead, I chose a different, smaller framed photo.

 

When we got together for one of our last weekends at the Radisson, we had rented the room for one night and decided to act like tourists. The next day, we drove to Elaine’s apartment, where I stopped in for 10 minutes before driving home.

 

Before I left, Elaine told me to close my eyes, because she had something to give me. When I opened them, she was holding the picture that I have always wanted…the beautiful portrait of that Native American woman; a woman who looks both wise and thoughtful. I became emotional, choked up, and kept saying, “I can’t take it. It means you’re moving. I love that picture but it should hang on your wall.”

 

A simply beautiful portrait of a woman and now she would hang in my house. Maybe her thoughtful expression always knew that simple goodbyes and acts of friendship would also bring painful moments.

Death of a Child

A few nights ago, I received a phone call from my friend. We used to work together. She called to tell me that the daughter of the secretary at my old job, had died. I could tell my friend was broken up with the news and I was in a state of shock myself. After the phone call, I sat down for a long time and thought what could be worse than losing a child?

 

I had already lived through the death of my parents and the death of my brother, leaving me the last one in my little family. I think the death of my brother was the hardest to accept. Basically, because I worshipped the ground that my big brother walked on. I loved him despite the bumps and bruises that he gave me. But, I wore them with pride, because I egged him on. I loved him despite that he was taller and smarter then I was and he was my mother’s favorite child. But I was my father’s favorite…so we came out even in the end. But he loved my stories of being a basketball player, and having nine children, and getting some of my stories published.

 

Then I thought back to when I was first married and all I ever wanted was to have a baby. Well, not just one but an even dozen. When I was first pregnant, I was ecstatic with the knowledge that in nine months I would have a little baby of my own. When I was almost three months pregnant, I had a miscarriage. I was devastated and wondered…was it a boy or girl? Would I ever be able to have another child? After that, it was hard to see the sun and enjoy it or see other pregnant women, or go to a baby shower, until I was lucky to be pregnant again. Eventually, I was lucky and had nine healthy children. But it took a long time to forget the pain of the baby that I lost. In time the pain goes away but not the memory.

 

I have had one child come close to near death and that was horrible in itself. But it was a scary time. Now I know that the most terrible thing for a mother is to have a child die. I know for a fact that to tell that person that “Your child is in a better place” isn’t the right thing to say, nor is “God wanted her more,” or “You’ll be fine.” Forget those words and just hug that person and let them grieve and talk.

 

I know every night I pray for my children to be happy and healthy and ask God to keep them safe. That is all I can do. When I see my friend at the funeral home, I will just hug her and that is all that I can do for her.

Weekend in Cleveland

A few weeks ago, I spent the weekend with my friend in Cleveland. Since she was living in a small apartment, we decided to stay in the downtown hotel, the Radisson, just like tourists.

 

Before we could check in to the hotel, we went over to the new Horseshoe Casino, located in the Highbee Company Department Store. The Casino had renovated the interior of the building and instead of what used to be a major department store was now home to numerous slot machines and table games. The place was packed with those machines and with people.

 

Oddly, my friend’s brother was a big time gambler and so was my father. My Dad actually lost the deed to our first house in a card game. But, I forced my friend to try the cheap penny and nickel slot machines. It was obvious that we weren’t your typical high rollers. We played a few dollars. I won $9.75, and promptly cashed out.

 

Leaving the Casino, we walked through the retail shops, next door in Tower City. This used to be the old train station. Now, the basement level still is still a train station to the major Rapid Transit System, as well as a few trains. The other two floors are filled with retail shops. Unfortunately, the Casino hasn’t brought many pedestrian shoppers to these shops. The merchants have found their sales down by 60%.

 

After, we walked through the downtown area, past buildings that brought back old memories to us like The Highbee’s Department store window that was used at Christmas time in the movie, A Christmas Story; past the Public Hall, where my Dad was the Convention Manager; the Library, and other places.

 

We were headed to the Rock-n-Roll Hall of Fame, where there was a special Grateful Dead Exhibit. The building was surrounded by a number of giant guitars decorated and on display, adding to the atmosphere of the building. The Rock-n-Roll Hall of Fame is a unique glass and metal building shaped like an old fashioned record player. Nothing disappointed me in the building, except that we needed a lot more time to see everything. We left 15 minutes before closing, and walked back to our car. We had just enough time to check into our hotel room, and freshen up for the Comedy Mystery Play and Dinner that evening.

 

The day went by too quickly. After breakfast the next day, we drove to the Italian Cultural Gardens, and stopped to view it and a few of the other nationality gardens. We also stopped at the Western Reserve Historical Society, to take in their special exhibit of Wedding Gowns throughout the centuries.

 

On our way back to my friend’s apartment, we ate lunch in Cleveland’s Little Italy at La Dolce Vita.

 

In the end, the whole trip was a little bit like – La Dolce Vita.

Crunch Time

Crunch time or as I like to call it, the two minute drill before an event, when your adrenalin is rushing...

This time I not only got to help prep for a wedding but I actually got to go to the wedding and help out. First, I made seven aluminum half pans of Spinach Dip; four to freeze and three for two different weddings. I cut up and arranged vegetables in a large serving basket and skewered almost 300 pieces of chicken. But my pride and joy was cutting and artistically arranging the different types of cheeses for two different trays to be served as appetizers at the weddings.

 

When my daughter asked me to help out at the off-site wedding that she was catering, I jumped at the chance. Usually, I only help to prep the food, and watch the other chefs prepare it and cook it but I never get to see the final result of the food being displayed and served at the wedding.

 

I arrived at the catering kitchen, close to 1:30. I watched the two chefs finishing and hurrying through their last minute tasks: pulling out potatoes and vegetables and wrapping them and placing them in the hot boxes. I watched one chef pull out the chicken zinfandel and the beef, wrap the trays and place them in the hot boxes. One chef finished making the gravies, as the servers took out the hot boxes and loaded them into the catering van. They took out all the rest of the food, appetizers, salads and whatever else was needed.

 

My daughter ran over her check list, making sure everything was in the van. Everyone had their shirts, and aprons and their assignments for the wedding. When we were all ready, the lights turned off and door locked, we got into three different vehicles and followed each other like a mini caravan for the 40 minute drive to the offsite wedding.

 

I was impressed with how those few minutes ran before we got into our cars. The pleasant aroma of the food cooking was wonderful, everyone did their jobs and the adrenalin rush was there. The food at the wedding was delicious, as was the praise from the guests. That crunch time before everything begins is really intense. It gets the caterer and severs in the zone, and in the end it really all comes together!

Where is the Ethics in Journalism?

In the old days, when I was a freshman at Kent State, my major was journalism. Even though I learned the basics of journalism in high school, my college major further explained the basics, and the importance of the 5 Ws, and the H – Who, What, Where, Why, and How. I also learned when you wrote a news story, you only told the facts. You didn’t slant a story or have an opinion. Opinions were relegated to the Editorial Page.

 

Over the years, as I watched the news on television, the Journalists, delivered the news, and found themselves in everyone’s living rooms, during the dinner hour. People looked up to these Journalists, and they depended on them for the news, and the news commentators didn’t let them down. By reporting news, and covering the 5 Ws and the H of the printed news media, they made us feel a kinship with them; they were our comfortable connection to the news.

 

But when those men like David Brinkley, John Chancellor, Walter Cronkite, Douglas Edwards, Chet Huntley Roger Mudd reported the news; the viewers never knew their political leanings. We, the listeners, didn’t know if they were Independents, Democrats, Republicans or Libertarians.

 

When those men retired, their news seats were filled with the likes of Tom Brokaw, Peter Jennings, and Dan Rather. These commentators wore their political affiliation as badges on their lapels. With every story that came out of their mouths, their audience knew what their political beliefs were and what party they supported.  They knew by the number of stories presented, how they presented their political party in a good light or even by the absence of the important stories that they seemed to omit.

 

Journalists both in the written media and the television media have a job to do. They should be above slanting the news. It should be covered in a fair and balance way. But now, more than ever…slanting the news is what they seem to do best. This has made me step back and ask the question, what are Journalism Schools actually teaching? Or are they? Where is the ethics that was once taught by Journalism Schools? Is that being taught anymore?

 

I was proud to be a Journalism major, and to have graduated with that degree. I still use what I have learned in my stories, interviews and magazine articles.

 

But when I see how the modern day Journalists are behaving and how they are reporting the news, and slanting it– I am deeply ashamed, frustrated, and embarrassed. Too bad they aren’t!