My daughter returns to college next Sunday. She is going into her senior year, and will be living in a single. She had asked if we could purchase a chair for her room. I reminded her of Aunt Yettie's lovely mid century modern rope and wood folding chair which had been living in our storage locker. My husband brought the chair home. My daughter was delighted with the chair.The chair needed pillows. I bought a pillow form and I covered it in African mud cloth. I covered the small bolster with silk burlap and covered the ends with mud cloth. My daughter is happy. So am I.
A few months ago I had a craving for my father’s chicken fricassee. If my father were still alive I would have called him up and he would have talked me through the process of making it. My father is no longer alive so I turned to my cookbooks and the recipes I found for chicken fricassee were nothing at all like the stew of chicken necks, gizzards and wings in a watery sweet and sour tomato sauce that I enjoyed as a kid. I assumed that the dish was an invention of my father’s. I then attempted to replicate the dish from my memory of it and failed. A couple of weeks ago I saw an article on the internet, and I can’t remember where, that talked about Jewish fricassee and it sounded an awful lot like the dish I was hankering after. This afternoon I went to the butcher and picked up all of the chicken elements of the dish, a couple of packages each of wings, necks and gizzards. My father never cooked directly from a cook book. He used to re...
Very nice.
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