Worth a Fortune

On Saturday afternoon, there was a larger than usual crowd at Gourmet 88 restaurant in Burbank.  Five month old Gia Bella and 86 year old Lee. Daniel and Shirley from Wyoming, Cecelia from D.C. Big kids she'd rocked to sleep as infants, and Whitney, the hospice nurse who held her hand at the end.  Her great aunt and her great nephew.  My dad and his wife.  Lots of family friends, the guys she made supper for down the hall, and Elena, who wept in Mom's arms after her husband died.  Tables full of sisters and brothers and nieces and cousins and relatives of all kinds.  Adopted sons in crisp cotton shirts.  There were strollers and walkers, floor length lilac gowns and jeans, and outfits that Mom had sent in the mail.  The food poured out of the kitchen:  won ton soup and minced chicken, potstickers and sesame beef, shrimp with asparagus, scallops in garlic sauce, broccoli beef and braised string beans, kung pao and soft noodles with chicken.

There were squeals of delight* and peals of laughter as people opened their fortune cookies and found her in every one**.  Hugs, smiles, and comforting embraces went around the room.  Every strawberry was eaten, and there were just a few crumbs left on the dessert plates.  The crowd lingered for quite a while, not quite ready for things to truly come to an end.   Then, slowly, the last guests said goodbye, with takeout bags filled with leftovers in hand.  

Mom would have loved every minute.   In fact, I'm sure she did.

*  We had put lottery tickets under everyone's plate in honor of one of Mom's favorite activities.  This turned out to be a huge hit with the pre-teen set.

** Mom's Fortunes:

Stock up on toilet paper.
If you spend enough at Macy’s, you will get free gift wrapping.
Make friends with the people at the post office.  Your packages will get there faster.
Baking is good therapy.
Suze Orman has a point.
Never pay full price for anything.
When in doubt, add sprinkles.
Mix things by hand.
The clearance rack is a great place to shop.
Pray for the President and First Lady.
Don’t butt in, but subtle suggestions are OK.
A pursed lip is worth a thousand words.
Support our troops, and wish for peace.
If it’s on Oprah, it’s worth it.
Make up recipes in your spare time.
There is really good shopping in heaven.
Play the lottery with a friend.  It is a good investment.
Read the newspaper, every day, cover to cover.
Be on time for dinner with seniors.
If you have good shoes, you can walk anywhere.
Celebrities have a lot to teach us.  Mostly about what not to do.
Treat yourself to a movie if you do all your housework.
Join a club. You might get free popcorn.
Having a nice TV makes a big difference.
Doing crosswords is a great way to keep your mind sharp, and to pass the time while you’re waiting.
Every new mom deserves two extra hands.
Keep a jigsaw puzzle on your dining table.
Teach someone to knit, or ask someone to teach you.
It’s OK to watch TV with your grandchildren if it is a cooking show.
Cracked crab, salami, French bread and Granny Goose cheese nibbles qualifies as a great lunch.
Take your kids out to nice restaurants when they’re little, and let them order prime rib and cheesecake.
Buy yourself a frozen dinner, but splurge on organic carrots for the guinea pigs.
Penmanship counts.
Spelling someone’s name out in stickers makes them feel special.
Keep track of how much money you save in a year. It might surprise you.
Keep things simple. It will be much more elegant that way.
It’s a good idea to sign up for Polynesian Dance classes.
People really appreciate it when you listen to them.
Pay attention to the details.
Being a hostess is one of life’s great pleasures.
Go camping, even though you hate it.
Make your home a warm and wonderful place, and then share it.
Giving a great dinner party is an art.
Putting something on a tray can make it fancy.
Buy groceries for other people.
Toast is a food group.
Bring golden tickets hidden in chocolate bars when you read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory out loud to a class of 1st graders.
Wear sandals in the snow.
Learn to drive a stick shift in your thirties.
Buy your cat Filet ‘O Fish sandwiches at the drive through at McDonald’s.
Plant marigolds.
Teach your kids to play a mean game of Bid Whist.
Become an expert tour guide when you move to a new city. You’re sure to have visitors.
Go watch your grandchildren do anything.  Clap loudly.
Always bake birthday cakes from scratch.
Have an opinion about lots of things.
Share pies with your neighbors.
Think “outfit”, not separates.
It’s OK to have your kids sit on cases of wine if the rest of the Volvo is full.
Pay your bills in person.
Try a new place to eat if they send out a coupon.
Use the good china.
Peeling and deveining shrimp is a great job for kids.
Make individual loaves of bread for your guests. It impresses the heck out of them.
Set desserts on fire whenever possible.
Sew matching outfits for your little girls.
Have a separate sink for washing hair.
Tyler Perry deserves to be famous.
Spend some time in Canada.
Collect rocks. They’re free and portable.
Save your old keys.
Having tea makes a normal day special.
Make friends with a handyman.
Elvis movies are worth watching again.
Buy the next size up.
Use vanilla ice cream as a starting point.
One deli chicken can go a long way.
If someone offers to buy you dinner, let them.
Make holidays magical.
Teach your parakeet to love Al Green.
Have a baby in a foreign country. Make the best of it.
Paint the house yourself.
Keep a closet full of long, sparkly dresses for your daughters to covet.
Volunteer.
Have dinner (or at least brownies) waiting when people come home from a long trip.
Get your holiday shopping done at least six months in advance.
Before you go buy something new, check the garage. You might find what you need in there.
Be gracious.
Leave notes for people.
Fill the house with fresh flowers.
Shine your plant leaves with mayonnaise.
No matter what, I will always be proud of you.

Oh, and the food was good, too.

Peru turned out to be a very foodie-friendly place.

 My taste buds were not at all biased by having a frosty Pisco Sour like this one almost every night.  Not much, anyway!

Pink trout tartar from the MAP Cafe in Cusco

Octopus ceviche from the Hotel Monastario

One of many amazing baskets of bread

Wild mushrooms, peppers and a luscious braising liquid lie beneath the perfect puffed pastry.

And the breakfasts?  Oh, my goodness.

Big Fluffy Pancakes at Jack's Cafe in Cusco (real maple syrup on the side)

Quinoa pancakes from the Hotel Inka Terra in Aguas Calientes.  Hearty, toothsome and light at the same time.  Wow! 

Andean cheese, fresh croissant, homemade elderberry jam, and salami.  I really could hike for miles after this kind of fortification.

Dessert?  Um.  Yeah.  They had that.   

This carrot cake appeared in our lunch tent, pitched by the chefs in the middle of a cow pasture.   Served after some of the best fried chicken I have ever had.  Let's just say the hubby was muy feliz about this development.

A rather phallic photo of tree tomato sorbet...tasted a little like apricots and was absolutely delicious.

The most beautiful birthday cake I ever had...a mango and pear tart, covered with edible flowers and powdered sugar.

Even the simplest food was deeply satisfying.

Box lunch midway along our hike up the Inca Trail...sandwich with ripe tomato, fresh avocado and cheese, local tangerines, and sweet bananas.  Plus Peanut M&Ms (not shown).

Hot vegetable soup, ready and waiting after our slog through the rain and the mud,

Heirloom potato soup, with crispy spring onions and parsley oil.

Hearty quinoa Soup, with local greens and potatoes

There was, however, one local delicacy we avoided eating.  Even though it was on every menu.  Entire towns were devoted to this dish.

Cuy. Also known as...guinea pig.

A roadside "guinea pig"-eria.  Note the little clay oven on the left.

We didn't try to eat the our here.

Local livestock.  We were sorely tempted to try a rescue operation, but our hutch at home is still a bit overcrowded.

As much as I loved the food, by the end of the trip, my son was ready to shoot the next person who brought him a bowl of steaming soup instead of a double cheeseburger.    Peruvian chefs are great at making French bread, pancakes, steak, vegetables and trout, but they suck at cheeseburgers.   That's why I had to secretly make this while he was at school when we got home.

Curried Lentil Soup

My not-too-shabby stab at recreating a memorable dish from Baco restaurant, in Cusco.  It was one of our last nights in town, and we wandered through the cobblestone streets in the pouring rain.  The restaurant was nearly empty.   After watching me blearily trying to translate the menu for the family*, the staff took pity on us and brought the English version.  The place was known for its gourmet pizzas, so I was a little surprised when my husband ordered soup and salad.   But when that soup came, I was blown away.   He and I practically came to blows over who got to lick the spoon when every last drop was gone.    I frantically waved at the waitress.

Me: Can you please ask the chef if I could get the recipe for this soup?

[My son is glaring at me so hard that I think his eyes might fall out of his head.  The waitress looks a little puzzled but agrees to ask.  She comes back shaking her head.]

Waitress:  I speak with the guys in the kitchen who make the soup.  They say there is no recipe.

Me: (wailing)  Really?  I promise to keep it a secret!**

Waitress:  No, no.  That is not a problem.  They say it is too easy to be a recipe.  It is lentils, onion, water and bacon.

Me:  I'm sorry?

Waitress:  Yes.  Just put in pot.  Make soup.

Me:  But...but...how much lentils?  How much onion?  How...

Waitress:   Em..maybe 1 kilo of lentils.  One onion.  You cook with bacon.  You add water.  You cook until lentils is soft.  Put in blender?  Is that the word?

Me: Yes!  Yes!  A blender?

Waitress:  Add salt and pepper.  And yellow curry powder.  And of course, we serve with bacon.

Me:  That's it?

Waitress:  That's it.  Is easy, see?  You like maybe another Pisco sour?

Me:  Si.

3/4 lb. bacon, cut into 1 inch pieces

1 sweet onion, chopped

2 lbs. lentils (I used pre-cooked lentils from Trader Joe's, but you can use dried)

6-8 c. of water (use less if your lentils are cooked, more if they are dried)

kosher salt and black pepper, to taste

3 Tbs. or so of curry powder, to taste

2 Tbs. grapefruit juice or lemon juice, to taste

chopped cilantro and/or scallions, for garnish

In a heavy-bottomed stock pot, brown 1/2 lb. of the bacon over medium heat until nearly crisp.  Add the chopped onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until onion is soft and just beginning to turn golden.  Stir in the lentils, and add water.    Bring to a low boil, reduce heat to low, and cook, covered, for 30 minutes to an hour (longer if you are using dried lentils, shorter if cooked).    

Working in batches, puree the soup in a blender until completely smooth.   Strain the puree through a fine chinois strainer to refine it even further, if you have one.   Return to the stockpot, season with salt, pepper and plenty of curry powder, and cook for 10 more minutes to allow flavors to blend and set.   While the soup is finishing, cook remaining 1/4 lb. of bacon until very crisp and set aside.  Add citrus juice to your soup, taste and adjust seasoning for the final time.   Ladle into bowls, add a generous sprinkling of bacon and cilantro, and serve.

Makes enough so you don't have to fight over this with your husband, and you will even have some leftover to taunt your kid with while he does his homework.

* Heaven knows what my son actually did at school during the past three years of Spanish class.  Clearly, they never practiced ordering dinner.  Or anything else even mildly travel-related.

** Assuming that I have no Peruvian readers (which is a very fair assumption!) it will be kind of a secret.

The Secret of the Andes

"Why Peru?" people asked me when they heard about our plans for spring break.  After all, I am not  known to navigate South American jungle mountaintops in my spare time.   I seldom daydream about crossing rickety suspension bridges over roaring rapids, or fording deep, stinky mud puddles on a borrowed mountain bike.   I don't believe I've ever waxed poetic about spending quality time with a cell phone deprived teenager.

And yet, I found myself in Peru. Doing all of those things.  And more.

There are two possible explanations:

1)  I read a book called Secret of the Andes when I was ten.  It's about an orphaned Inca boy who lives hidden away in the Peruvian mountains with a wise old man and a herd of llamas.    The boy goes on a journey (with the llamas), discovers something important and meaningful, then returns home to the wise old man who knew all along he'd be back.    Despite being a small black girl from a nuclear family in a pancake flat area of urban D.C.,  I somehow subliminally internalized this story as my personal destiny.    

2)  There is a god.

Given the weight that was lifted from me up in those mountains, and the joy in these faces, I am going with number 2.