Breaking routine and an interesting day

 

Last night the whole outdoors turned an interesting shade of pink.
Jordan tried to capture it in this photo, and you can see the pink.
But what's clearer is the wonderful fall colors of 
my oak leaf hydrangea. 

Routine and varying it has been on my mind lately, as you know if you read the blog often. I sometimes feel married to my routine, but I don’t think it’s a good thing. I’d sort of like to be more of a free spirit. It wasn’t exactly earth-shaking, but I did rearrange my day’s schedule today.

Usually, mornings are my work time. If I’m going to do any serious writing or research, it better be before my two o’clock nap in the afternoon. Today I reversed that completely. You know those little household chores you put off? I did a bunch of them before I even turned on my computer this morning. Hung up the clothes that were piled on a chair in the bedroom—I tend to ignore that pile because guests can’t see it from the living area. I opened the box of dog chews sitting on the coffee table and dispensed with some recyclable trash, retrieved a new box of tea bags and a bunch of napkins from McGee’s closet where Jordan stashes them (are you old enough to get that one?) and refilled both holders, put away clean dishes, and even washed a few that had, shhh! sat overnight. Finally, with a hot cup of tea, I sat down at my desk. Even then I did piddly things—figuring out recipes to write about for tomorrow’s Gourmet blog, reviewing notes for a Zoom call tomorrow, and so on.

But it was this evening, that the day got interesting. At five-thirty, I watched a Zoom program from the Tenement Museum, an interview with Mayukh Sen, a very young (and as the blurb tells you perhaps unnecessarily, brown and queer) culinary author and James Beard award-winner. He was interviewed about his new book, Tastemakers: Seven Immigrant Women Who Revolutionized American Food. Although Sen originally intended to write about the food these women prepared, the book ended up being about race, culture, identity, gender—and, of course, food. Included are Italian Marcella Hazan, the deity of Italian cuisine who today writes for the New York Times, Mexican-born Elena Zelayeta, a blind chef; and Norma Shirley, a champion of Jamaican dishes, with four others.

The interview was a bit disconcerting because the text scrolling across the bottom of the screen lagged behind the actual dialog by about a minute, so I was torn, going from listening to reading. But the setting was wonderful—a reconstructed Fifties apartment in the museum building, 97 Orchard Street in New York, complete with plastic covers on the furniture (Oh, do I remember those from the tiny one-bedroom apartment where my ex- grew up) with antimacassars, floral wallpaper, and a big-screen TV console.

The program whetted my appetite for the book, because, always with my Helen Corbitt project in mind, I wanted to read how these immigrant women fit into capitalist society and authored cookbooks, what they brought with them from their homeland, how they adapted recipes for an American audience. Alas, the book is not available on Amazon (heresy! first time ever I’ve searched for a book and not found it on Amazon). It’s sold by Barnes and Noble for their Nook ebook device or $23.95 for hardcover. I have a hard time reading print—I think it’s the lighting in my office—so I’m reluctant to buy the hardcover. I could download the Nook program free but not sure about using it on my computer rather than a Nook reader. I’m a bit frustrated.

Hot on the heels of that Zoom program came our neighborhood association meeting with, probably for the first time in the group’s history, a contested campaign for president. This was preceded by a spate of emails, lots of rumors, a couple of phone calls, so I expected fireworks. Thanks to our president’s firm control of the meeting, it was calm and orderly. In a first, we will vote by SurveyMonkey; to vote you have to be a dues-paying member in good standing and present at the Zoom meeting.

So now, at eight o’clock, I’m Zoomed out, but happy with the diversity of the day. Eating honey cake with a bit of wine. Life doesn’t get much better. I swear I’m going to finish that Cuban American culinary mystery tonight--but that's another story for another night.