April in January

 

Wednesday, January 30, 2013 – April in January

I’d better check the calendar.  Last week felt like winter, with temperatures barely rising out of the twenties and a couple of dustings of snow.  Yesterday, however, felt like spring.  Afternoon temperatures were in the upper 60s, and similar weather is forecast for today.  How bizarre for January!  When I was at George Mason for my Tuesday afternoon class, I sat out on a bench to enjoy the beautiful weather and noticed the green shoots of tulips pushing up a few inches above the soil.  I should have spent all of Tuesday outside, but instead, I spent the morning in the house doing laundry, drinking more tea (this cold/sinus infection refuses to surrender), baking Mexican wedding cookies (no, I’m not going south of the border to elope), heating up leftover fish tacos (is tilapia really a fish, or was it invented in a lab?), and finishing another book.  In The Forgetting River, American journalist Doreen Carvajal tells how she researched her converso roots in Spain.  I wanted to read it before I travel to New Mexico in May for my next Road Scholar trip, Conversos and Crypto-Jews in the Southwest.  

And now, on to food.  I love to eat out, but lately, I’ve been paying more attention to cutting back on animal products – both for my health and to protect the environment – and this presents certain challenges.  I’m always on the lookout for places where you can eat well and help the planet at the same time.  My most recent discovery is Loving Hut, a somewhat Vietnamese vegan restaurant in nearby Falls Church.  More than a dozen members of my Hadassah group met there for a dining-out adventure Monday night.  With so many intriguing sounding options on the menu, it was hard to make a decision, but I eventually chose lemongrass tofu and mixed vegetables with brown rice.  A dining companion shared some of her delicious the soba noodles with me, and I also tasted a gingery kale dish.  If/when the weather gets cold again, I’ll return to try Loving Hut’s vegan version of pho, the Vietnamese noodle soup.  

The next dining adventure was Tuesday night at Georgi’s house.  A lively group of AHS teachers plus two exchange teachers, one from Korea and another from Scotland, crowded around the dining room table for New Mexican style enchiladas with fried eggs on top along with tasty beans and rice.  Add some chips, salsa, and homemade guacamole, a few bottles of wine, a couple of Mexican inspired desserts (the above-mentioned cookies plus a chocolate cake with a touch cinnamon), non-stop dance music (in Spanish, of course), and we had a truly festive evening.  Too bad the others had to get up early and go to work the next morning.  

Is It Snowing Yet?

Friday, January 25, 2012 – Is It Snowing Yet?

I was on the verge of going to a Zumba class this morning, but instead, I decided to declare a stay-at-home day and use mega-doses of fluids to try to dislodge the cold that has established residency in my respiratory system.  Of course, I also didn’t think anyone in the gym would appreciate my non-stop coughing.  The fluid remedy, which has worked for me in the past, has turned me into a two-fisted drinker.  Just a few minutes ago, I had my third cup of tea in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.  It’s a good thing the kitchen is well-stocked with a variety of different tea and coffee choices.  If I start to feel bored, I might add a glass of tomato juice at lunchtime.  In addition to ridding myself of this unwanted cold, I’ve been trying especially hard not to pass along my germs to Elliott.  So far, I’ve been successful.  He and Marshall went out for a couple of hours and I’m using my time (between trips to the bathroom) to read, practice my Torah reading, and watch for the first flakes of snow to appear.  If I’m lucky, Mr. and Mrs. Fox (a pair of very plump red foxes) will make their daily visit while I’m looking out into the backyard.  

Our friendly neighborhood fox

Thursday's morning's snow at 7 a.m. in the backyard

George Mason's statue on the campus of GMU

Yesterday was the kind of snow day I like:  a light frosting of pristine white early in the morning, and then melting away as day progressed.  It looked lovely and it didn’t interfere with my afternoon class art history class at George Mason.  Being a student along with a bunch of undergraduates is a rejuvenating experience.  And the professor is a very stimulating lecturer.  I’m very excited to embark on this study of Western art from the Renaissance to the modern period, and I’m already planning my next visit to the National Gallery in Washington – to coincide with DC Restaurant Week, of course.  

Back Home with the Boys

Wednesday, January 23, 2012 – Back Home with the Boys

Back home again, and it seems that Elliott and Marshall not only survived my absence, but thrived while I was away in New York.  They cooked steak, mashed potatoes, and bacon and eggs.  They went out with Matt to the new Smashburger on Route 50.  They shopped at Wegman’s and filled up “my” kitchen with some special treats.  The counters are still cluttered with packages of cinnamon buns, cherry strudel, and French vanilla muffins (Marshall’s favorite).  In the refrigerator, the soy milk and plain yogurt are now vying for space with the newly purchased bottles of tonic water and sugar-laden juices.  I had hoped Elliott might be a good influence on Marshall, but it looks like we haven’t made much progress.  A sugar addiction can be hard to break.

I did not despair, however.  I just got back to work in the kitchen, finally making that curried cauliflower soup – delish!  I’ll be happy to provide the recipe upon request.  Elliott said he liked the soup, but he’d like it better without all the spices.  This doesn’t come as a surprise to me. 

We’ve all been busy in the past couple of days.  Marshall has been making daily excursions to Arlington to look at apartments.  By the end of the week, he should be able to make a decision and start planning his move.  Elliott saw his pain doctor again and reviewed the latest MRI findings.  It’s not very encouraging, i.e. severe deterioration in his spine, but at least the pain medication seems to be helping.  He’s also had fun tearing up the pink bathroom.  Actually, he was just pulling up some of the floor tile to see what was under it.  We’ll get started on that renovation project very soon. 

As for me, in addition to running the household and keeping the boys well-fed, I’ve been tutoring a Bat Mitzvah student as well as practicing the Torah portion and Haftarah that I’ll be chanting in about a month.  At the same time, I’ve been consuming library books at an amazing rate.  I’m on my fifth of the month already.  Behind the Beautiful Forevers by Katherine Boo was a terrific account of life in the slums of Mumbai.  I also read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil in anticipation of our March trip to Savannah.  I enjoyed two books of fiction – Beautiful Lies, a historical novel set in Victorian England, and In the Shadow of the Banyan, which is set in Cambodia during the time the Khmer Rouge came to power.  Currently, I’m reading the novel Peaches for Father Francis by Joanne Harris, the author of Chocolat.  Food, fiction, and France – a perfect combination!  

Incredible Edibles

Saturday, January 19, 2012 – Incredible Edibles

I promised Elisa and Christian that I wouldn’t reveal the name of the restaurant where we ate on Saturday night.  It’s a tiny place where it’s already hard to get a reservation, and they don’t want it to be discovered by others.  I feel honored that they chose this setting for my final dinner in New York. 

Our reservation was for 9:30 p.m.  Since we had to wait until nearly 10 o’clock to be seated, the manager brought over complimentary glasses of wine after about 15 minutes.  The wine, a Spanish verdejo, was a crisp white that reminded us of a sauvignon blanc.  Once we were seated at the U-shaped bar, the truly exciting part of the evening began.  Rather than ordering from a menu, we simply noted our preferences to the manager – no meat, fish is okay, avoid nuts.  While we were waiting for the first of our tasting plates to arrive, we could observe the artistry of the chefs who were working right in front of us.  The physical set-up created a performance that was an integral part of the culinary adventure.  All we had to do was choose the wine (a Spanish tempranillo), then sit back and enjoy.

Watching the chefs at work

Without further ado, I’ll give you a rundown of the incredible dishes we sampled.  Elisa’s photos will help you visualize the experience.  Just keep in mind that mere words can’t do justice to the flavors.

A salad of micro-greens and a soft Spanish cheese.  I can’t remember exactly what was in the vinaigrette.  That crispy flatbread on top provided a delightful crunch.

A dish of roasted winter vegetables, including red and golden beets and Brussels sprouts, garnished with a seaweed paste.  Such rich flavors.

Soft scrambled eggs served in what appeared to be a large egg shell, blanketed with a cauliflower puree and pimenton croutons. 

Lightly grilled sea bass with a foamy Riesling emulsion. 

Braised octopus with smoked potatoes and seaweed emulsion.  The most tender octopus I’ve ever eaten and those smoked potatoes were to die for.  Note:  Elisa and I concurred that this was our favorite dish.

A delicate fresh pasta with cheese and an assortment of exotic mushrooms. 

Flatbread topped with red onion jam and grilled diced vegetables.  Christian could have eaten all of this himself, but we wouldn’t let him. 

A wonderful farro and chickpea salad.  We detected some citrus flavors in the mixture.   

After these eight tasting plates, we were ready to share a dessert.  Unfortunately, the dark chocolate custard with coconut, crème anglaise, and pineapple was plated with chocolate covered macadamia nuts so Christian (who is highly allergic to nuts) was unable to participate in the final course.  We offered to stop at a creperie on the way back to the apartment, but he assured us that he was completely satisfied, as were Elisa and I. 

This evening’s dining experience was such a treat.  Thanks to Elisa and Christian not only for bringing me to this temple of incredible edibles, but also for being such delightful dining companions.  I’m looking forward to sharing many more culinary adventures with both of you.  

Saturday in the City

Saturday, January 19, 2012 – Saturday in the City

I slept late this morning, and I mean really late.  I didn’t open my eyes until a record-shattering 9:45 a.m.  I felt great when I got up, not a single achy muscle, after sleeping on the Ikea couch in Elisa and Christian’s apartment.  Maybe I should get rid of my bed and replace it with one of those Ikea leather sectionals. 

I pushed back the curtains to reveal a brilliant blue sky with plenty of sunshine.  Fortunately, temperatures had moderated since Friday.  I was full of energy and eager to get out on the streets again.  Christian had to go into the office on Saturday, so Elisa and I went out in search of brunch, which is not hard to find in New York.  We ended up at Zoe, on Eldridge Street, where Elisa had her first taste of Middle Eastern shakshouka and I chose a Mexican-inspired dish of shrimp and eggs.  We followed up our meal with a leisurely stroll through the neighborhood.  I even did a little shopping, to support the local economy. 

Flowers for sale on the Lower East Side

Shakshouka for brunch at Zoe

Mexican shrimp and eggs for brunch at Zoe

Then it was time to head south across Delancy Street to the Lower East Side Tenement Museum.  First, we had an excellent hour-long guided tour of a tenement on Orchard Street, which was home to immigrants from the 1860s to the 1930s.  The building at 97 Orchard Street was built by a German immigrant in the early 1860s.  There were six floors of apartments, with four apartments per floor.  Initially, there was no heat, no plumbing, no electricity, and no gas.  On the ground floor, there was a bar.  The 24 families who lived in the building shared four outhouses and one water pump, which were located outside, in back of the building.  They burned coal in stoves for heat and cooking.  Candles and kerosene lamps provided light.  Little natural light entered the building.  Whole families, sometimes as many as a dozen people, were crammed into the 325 square foot apartments, which were divided into three rooms (only one of which had an exterior window).

In the late 19^th/early 20^th century, several families at 97 Orchard Street operated sweatshops in their apartments.  Sweatshops originally meant home-based factories.  Most of these sweatshops produced clothing.  These sweatshops were an important part of the chain of production in the garment industry.  The “sweat” referred to squeezing out the profits.

With the introduction of building codes in the early 1900s, landlords were forced to improve conditions in the tenements.  The owner of 97 Orchard was required to add indoor plumbing, which resulted in two toilets per floor (in other words, two toilets for every four families).  Since each room now required ventilation, they had to break through walls to provide interior windows.  They also brought in gas for cooking and created airshafts.  Residents didn’t have electricity, however, until the 1920s.  During the 1930s, the building was deemed unsuitable for occupancy since the owner was unwilling to replace the wood in the public areas with fireproof materials.  I wish I could show you some photos, but the museum doesn’t allow visitors to take photographs.  But check out the museum’s website.

After the tour, we watched a fascinating film about the immigrant experience in the museum’s Visitors Center.  Although I knew quite a bit about the history of immigration from teaching U.S. history to my ESOL students, I learned some interesting new facts.  For example:

Tenement is just another word for apartment building. 

The tenements on the Lower East Side (LES) were built in the middle of the 1800s to provide housing for the growing number of immigrants, primarily from Germany and Ireland.

There were so many German immigrants in New York in the 1800s that the city was the 3^rd largest German-speaking city in the world, after Berlin and Vienna. 

The Irish were the largest immigrant group in New York in the 19^th century.

By the early 1900s, the LES was the most densely populated place in the world, with 1000 people per acre. 

The area was home first to German immigrants and Irish immigrants in the mid-1800s.  Later, in the late 1800s and early 1900s, it became the home of Italian immigrants and Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe.  Later, in the mid-20^th century, immigrants from Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic moved in the area. 

After spending a couple of hours at the museum, we had worked up quite an appetite, and since we had a late dinner reservation, we had a little multicultural tea party to tide us over.  We picked up boiled veggie dumplings from Prosperity Dumpling on Clinton Street, made some chai back at Elisa’s apartment, and finished off with some baklava that was lurking in the refrigerator.  

Dinner at The Fat Radish

Friday, January 18, 2012 – Dinner at The Fat Radish

After our pre-dinner happy hour at the Met on Friday, Elisa and I took the subway back down to the Lower East Side.  We had an early (7:30 p.m. is early by New York standards) reservation at The Fat Radish.  It was 7:25 p.m. when we exited the station on the south side of Delancy Street and rushed over to Orchard Street.  As we ran down Orchard, the number of lights decreased and the amount of signage in Chinese increased.  During daylight hours, especially on weekends, Orchard Street is a bustling place, with numerous shops and street vendors.  In the evening, however, it shows its quieter side.

The restaurant was only half-full when we settled down at a table, but by 8 p.m., there was a crowd of people waiting to be seated.  In keeping with its unusual name, the restaurant automatically provides a plate of plump radishes, dressed simply with olive oil, sea salt, and chopped fresh herbs, while diners study the menu.  Elisa and I went ahead and ordered an appetizer and some elderflower lemonade while we waited for Christian to join us (he was working late).  The grilled cheese and pickles sounded intriguing and it proved to be an excellent choice.  The Fat Radish elevates this mundane classic sandwich to the realm of the sublime, adding caramelized onions (and maybe mushrooms?) to the melted cheddar on thick slices of country bread.  It was quite simply the best grilled cheese sandwich I’ve ever eaten.  And the pickles, from a local pickle purveyor, were the ideal accompaniment.  It was lucky for Christian that he arrived before we devoured every last bite of the sandwich.

We fought over that last quarter of the grilled cheese sandwich.

We followed up with four extremely satisfying dishes.  The celery root pot pie, gooey with Gruyere cheese, was the ultimate comfort food.  We also shared a fish dish – olive oil poached cod with warm mustardy potato salad and leeks.  The vegetarian Fat Radish plate was a colorful array that included kale, Kabocha squash, heirloom carrots, cippolini onions, yams, baby turnips, adzuki beans, brown rice, and hijiki seaweed.  Finally, the side order of mashed golden beets and sweet potatoes was an extra treat.  I really like a restaurant that treats vegetables with respect, and I can understand why Elisa and Christian, who are pescatarians, are so fond of The Fat Radish. 

Celery root pot pie

Fat Radish Plate

Olive oil poached cod with potato salad and leeks

Meet Me at the Met

Friday, January 18, 2012 – Meet Me at the Met

A wicked wintry wind whisked me from the subway station at 86^th and Lexington Avenue to the stately stone steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art on Fifth Avenue. In other words (without alliteration), it was so damn cold and windy out that I practically ran the seven blocks from the subway to the museum.  The Met’s Great Hall was as impressive as I remembered, and it was packed with people from around the globe, judging by the number of languages I heard.  As soon as Audrey, my friend and former piano teacher, arrived, we set out for Henri’s exhibit.  Matisse: The Search for True Painting focuses on the artist’s process of creation.  It was a fascinating glimpse into the development of his style and his working and re-working of certain compositions.  Matisse has always been a favorite of mine.  I admire the way he seems to combine drawing and painting in his canvases.  Not surprisingly, the show stirred up some of my latent desire to paint again.  I can foresee a time, perhaps in a couple of years, when I’ll venture back into the studio. 

Elisa, who works in the development department of the Met, was able to join us for lunch.  She brought us down to the basement, to the staff cafeteria, where reproductions of some of the museum’s masterpieces adorn the walls.  Afterwards, Audrey and I spent a while perusing the offerings of the museum shop before she had to catch a bus across the park, then the subway down to Penn Station to take the Long Island Railroad back home.  Did I mention that she’s 80 years old and still teaches piano, still performs regularly, still comes into the city frequently to attend concerts and visit museums, and still travels around the world to visit friends?  She is an amazing woman, and I hope that I’ll be as energetic twenty years from now. 

Since I still had a couple of hours in the museum before Elisa could leave, I decided to find a comfortable spot to sit with a cup of coffee and a book I’d brought along.  Since the Met is enormous, I put my navigational skills to work finding the café in the American Wing.  Along the way, I passed through Greek and Roman sculpture, the Medieval collection, and American decorative arts.  It was an unexpected treat to see some Tiffany stained glass windows and a Byzantine-inspired glass mosaic column set alongside the café.  Returning to the Great Hall, I took a slightly different route.  This time, a section of an immense Ionic fluted marble column caught my eye.  The column with its scrolled capital was so large that I stopped to read the description.  It turned out to be a Hellenstic (300 BC) column from the Temple of Artemis in Sardis (in present-day Turkey). 

Although DC has some excellent museums, none of them can compare to the Met in terms of the breadth and depth of their collections.  I overheard someone saying that if you stood for one minute in front of every object in the museum’s collection, it would take more than ten years to see everything.  It’s not hard to believe.  Now I’m especially looking forward to my upcoming art history course at George Mason to provide a focus for my next visit to the museum.

Because it was Friday, the museum was open late.  So when Elisa finished work, we strolled up to the Balcony Bar, overlooking the Great Hall, for a glass of wine and a little snack.  My California Syrah was delightful – nose of dark chocolate and blackberries, extremely smooth on the palate.  Although our two glasses of wine and a plate of three chocolate-covered strawberries cost more than last night’s dinner, it was a perfect ending to a day at the Met.  

On the Lower East Side, Looking West

Friday, January 18, 2012 – On the Lower East Side, Looking West

There must be something in the air in New York City.  You hear about its legendary energy, and now I know for a fact that it’s real.  The evidence? I was able to stay up last night way, way past my regular bedtime, and even at 1:00 a.m., I didn’t feel tired.  In fact, for the first time in my life, I watched The Daily Show and The Colbert Report at their regular late-night times.  The only reason I went to bed shortly after 12:45 a.m. was because Christian and Elisa, who have to go to work in the morning (imagine that!), switched off the television in the middle of What Not to Wear. 

Of course, I slept late this morning.  (For me, 8:00 a.m. qualifies as late.)  The first thing I did when I determined that I’d gotten enough sleep was to push back the curtains to see the view.  There, through the floor to ceiling west-facing windows was the geometry of the Manhattan skyline against a patchwork of blue and white.  And at long last, the sun was shining.  In fact, the reflection of the morning sun on the windows of the tall buildings created a mirror-like mosaic as I looked west. 

Since Christian left very early and Elisa left shortly after I awoke, I have the apartment to myself.  It’s easy to fantasize that this is my very own New York pied-a-terre.  Let’s check out the refrigerator.  Hmm, soy milk, tapenade, taramasalata, and fresh thyme.  Oh, and a bottle of sparkling white burgundy, perhaps a leftover from New Year’s Eve?  Also Brita water pitcher, half the size of the one in my kitchen in Fairfax.  Instead of a Costco-sized megabox of Cheerios, there’s a suitably scaled package of Nature’s Path Heritage Flakes perched on top of the refrigerator next to a box of Le Petit Ecolier cookies (dark chocolate variety).  I definitely approve. 

Elisa and Christian have done a wonderful job of keeping the furnishings streamlined and the clutter to a minimum.  They’ve created a calm and restful haven, which is just what I need for my three-day getaway.  After I spend a leisurely couple of hours here this morning, I’ll take the subway up to the Metropolitan Museum of Art for my date with Henri (Matisse).  

Running Away from Home

Thursday, January 17, 213 - Running Away from Home

The past few days have been so, so, so exhausting, both physically and mentally, that I’ve decided to run away from home.  We’ve been on the go constantly, with multiple medical appointments for Elliott, including a late night MRI on Tuesday.  When we saw our long-time family physician yesterday, he made it quite clear that we’re not going to find a permanent “fix” for Elliott’s back problems.  Injections haven’t helped, and surgery isn’t an option.  The damage to his spine is too extensive and severe.  The doctor basically told Elliott that he should take his painkillers and stop spending his time chasing after a cure. 

This latest round of medical appointments was prompted by recent significant changes in Elliott’s condition.  Since the first of the year, he seems to have aged considerably.  His walking is slower and more labored.  Even in the house, he now uses his walker.  His stature is less upright.  Although he realizes he has to accept these changes, he has tried not to let them interfere with his life.  He still manages to get around and to keep busy, and we’re still planning some travel in the coming months.  It’s more of a psychological adjustment than anything else.  Even though he’s over 100, he’s not ready to be “old.” 

Meanwhile, Marshall is staying with us while he looks for an apartment and we’re devoting lots of time to helping him get re-acclimated to the DC area.  The first order of business was to get him a real winter coat.  He and Elliott accomplished that yesterday.  And it’s a good thing, because snow is in the forecast for later today.  Then our attention turned to researching apartments in various neighborhoods.  Yesterday we drove through sections in Arlington, from Ballston to Clarendon and Courthouse, to give him an overview of the area.  I got so excited pointing out the many attractive features of Clarendon and Courthouse – Metro accessibility, great shopping and restaurants, etc. – that I’m ready to pack up and move there myself! 

Squeezed in between doctors’ appointments and apartment hunting was my informal orientation at George Mason University, conducted by my friend Eleanor who is serving as my “big sister” on campus.  I now have my official student ID card, my tuition waiver, and my parking permit.  I still have to purchase textbooks and figure out the exact location of my class, which begins next Tuesday.  The school has changed and grown so much in the twenty-plus years since I got my M.Ed. that it’s barely recognizable.

Although the sun hasn’t been shining, I’ve been doing my best to keep my spirits up.  On Tuesday, I met my friend Kathy at Le Pain Quotidien for lunch.  Their chicken pot-au-feu, served with harissa, was perfect comfort food for the dreary and damp winter day.  And I couldn’t leave without a selection of mini-pastries that I brought home for “the boys.”  Having a houseguest means taking more care with meal preparation.  It’s fun having an appreciative audience to cook for, but it’s also a lot of work. 

Mini-pastries from Le Pain Quotidien

Assorted breads at Le Pain Quotidien

I really need about 24 hours with nothing to do.  However, back in November, I’d promised myself that I’d get up to New York City to see the new Matisse exhibit at the Met, so this morning I hopped onto a big white bus for the trip up to The Big Apple.  Just as daylight was fading from the sky, the bus pulled up near Penn Station.  Soon I was enveloped in the crush of humanity walking down 34^th Street in the direction of the Empire State Building.  I even managed to do a little shopping on my way to the subway.  At Uniqlo, a bright and modern Japanese clothing store, I found two shirts and a jacket to add to my wardrobe. 

Unfortunately, with all the distractions at home, I neglected to pack a few important items, namely cash, camera and cauliflower.  I realize it may be strange to travel with a head of cauliflower, but I’d bought it with the intention of bringing it to Elisa’s apartment and making curried cauliflower soup.  So instead of cooking, we went out for dinner at Tré, an Italian restaurant on Ludlow Street on the Lower East Side.  Our meal consisted of whole wheat spaghetti with shrimp and broccoli, and an assortment of delicious vegetable dishes:  zucchini marinated in garlic and mint, cauliflower with butter and scallions, and roasted red peppers with capers and olives.  I would have taken photos, but I didn’t have my camera.  Thank goodness Elisa has a smart phone, which she used to take a picture of the pasta dish. 

From Darkness to Light

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Saturday, January 12, 2012 – From Darkness to Light

Saturday morning, all wrapped in a cloud of fog.  Bare trees like inky skeletons silhouetted against the gray mist.  A few lonely bird calls pierced the unearthly quiet.  The somber setting made me wonder what dark secrets were hiding out there.  Perhaps my thoughts were influenced by the fact that I was getting ready for a visit to the Holocaust Museum.  I would be accompanying a group of over thirty AHS students, all of whom are affiliated with STAND, the student-led anti-genocide group that I co-sponsored during my last year and a half of teaching.   Every year, several members of our STAND chapter participate in an internship program at the museum.  Part of their program consists of training to become guides.  Six of them would serve as our guides today. 

I am so incredibly proud of these AHS students.  Coming from all backgrounds, all ethnic groups and all religions, they share a commitment to understanding the lessons of past genocides and working to prevent such tragedies from occurring again.  For many of them, this was their first visit to the Holocaust Museum.  We toured the permanent exhibit for approximately two hours and then debriefed with a member of the museum staff.  As expected, it was a sobering experience.  The museum does a superlative job of relating all aspects of the Holocaust.  However, I wish that the text accompanying many of the displays could be more accessible to visitors with limited English skills. 

The sky was lightening when we departed from the museum, and I made a resolution:  I am launching a new project, to develop an ELLs (English Language Learners) guide to the Holocaust Museum. 

The afternoon brightened considerably when my friend Ola, an AHS colleague, came for a visit with her husband and their nephew.  Ola brought along some delicious Egyptian-style delicacies whose names I unfortunately don’t recall.  There were flat leek-stuffed pastries, larger pastries bulging with chicken and spices, plain ring-shaped tea biscuits studded with black seeds of some kind, cardamom flavored cookies, and an interesting dessert made of shredded wheat, pistachio nuts, and a sugary syrup.  For them, it was a late lunch, while the festive meal served as an early dinner for Elliott and me. 

with Hady and Ola

with Mohamed, Hady and Ola

 

I was hoping to see the sun again on Sunday, but instead, it turned out to be Glumday, an entire day of heavy fog that never lifted.  In fact, it got thicker and thicker as the day went on although the temperatures stayed relatively mild, in the mid-50s.  We must have imported this weather from the Pacific Northwest.  Since it wasn’t really a day for outdoor activities, Elliott and I used our time to continue working on the downstairs bathroom.  Today, in role reversal, he acted as my assistant, handing me the necessary tools as I hung curtain rods.  We’re nearing completion on the first bathroom and we’re almost ready to embark on phase two of bathroom renovation – transforming the 1960s Pepto-Bismol pink bathroom on the main level into something with a more contemporary feel. 

Meet Monsieur Bricolage

 

Wednesday, January 9, 2013 – Meet Monsieur Bricolage

I’d like to introduce you to my husband, Monsieur Bricolage.  That’s French for Mr. Do-It-Yourself.  In fact, Monsieur Bricolage is also the name of the megastore in France that’s the equivalent of Home Depot or Lowe’s.  In other words, it’s Elliott’s favorite kind of store.  As long as I’ve known him, his philosophy has been – don’t pay someone else to do a job that you can do yourself.  I admire his confidence, and his unwillingness to part with his money, too.  But most of all, I think Elliott gets a great deal of satisfaction out of working with his hands. 

Right after we moved into our house in France, he installed shelves in the shelf-less kitchen cabinets. He also put up light fixtures where bare wires were sticking out from the walls and ceilings.  And when we wanted an iron fence around our little terrace, he dug out a tree that needed to be removed. 

summer of 1986 in Fayence

 

Once we moved back to the U.S., he continued working inside and outside the house.  He replaced the kitchen cabinets and built a shed in the backyard when we lived in Annandale.   Moving to our house in Fairfax gave him the opportunity to get up on the roof to clean leaves from the gutters.  In addition, he figured out a way to direct the run-off water away from the driveway and the house.  He put in new locks, installed an exhaust fan, and a new garage door opener.  And every year, we go through rolls and rolls of duck tape.  

summer of 1993 in Annandale, Virginia

Lately, he’s been tackling as much of our current bathroom renovation project as he can manage.  Although he hired someone to put down the tile floor, he has been busy with miscellaneous jobs.  He’ll take any excuse to get out his drill and screwdriver.  So when he announced that he was going to install the new recessed medicine cabinet himself, I wasn’t surprised, but I was a little skeptical. After all, he has virtually no vision in his left eye and therefore has major problems with depth perception.  It became apparent right away that the job also required four hands, so Team Thompson sprang into action.

Working side by side with Elliott brings back memories of my childhood, when I’d help my father with all kinds of work around the house:  plumbing, carpentry, electrical repair – in my eyes, there was nothing he couldn’t do.  In that sense, Elliott and my father are very much alike.  Those times I spent working with my father were very special.  I felt like he was sharing some secret knowledge with me, and I was so proud to be the one he called on to help.  The training he gave me certainly paid off.  Whenever Elliott needs an assistant, I’m ready and able to pitch in. 

In theory, the medicine cabinet job should have been quick and easy – just drill a few holes and screw in a few screws – but of course, nothing goes as planned.  I started checking my watch after about half an hour.  I was eager to get to the other things on my agenda for the morning.  But once Elliott gets started on a project, he doesn’t stop for anything – not for lunch or dinner, not for naptime or bedtime, and not even for his favorite daytime TV show, The Price is Right.  (Does anyone under the age of 80 actually watch this program?)

When Elliott’s tinkering with materials and tools, he is definitely in his element.  Hours could go by and he wouldn’t even notice.  Fortunately, we were able to wrap up the medicine cabinet project before my patience wore out.  We were both immensely proud of our accomplishment.  And I think we both enjoyed the camaraderie that comes from working together.   

Of course there’s much more to do in the coming weeks.  Soon I’ll be hearing the sound of the drill and smelling the aroma of the sawdust again. 

It's time to get some high fashion safety goggles.