Your Culinary Obit?

The Salt, NPR's food blog, carried this article, about the controversy over the lead-in to the NY Times obituary for Yvonne Brill, a rocket scientist. Apparently the obit opened with this statement, "She made a mean beef stroganoff, followed her husband from job to job and took eight years off from work to raise three children. 'The world's best mom,' her son Matthew said."

I agree with most who commented (on the NPR article) that it is unlikely that a male rocket scientist's obit would have such a lead-in. The pressure to juggle roles (and to cook in the first place) for women is sadly present even in death, an particular irony in the case of a woman who continually faced sexist barriers in her field. However, I was much more intrigued by the question posed by the NPR columnist, Maria Godoy, in the title of the article : What Do We Lose, And Gain, When Reducing A Life To A Recipe?

Perhaps some of us on LTH - regardless of gender - think that food and cooking feature so prominently in our lives as to be worthy of mention in our obits. I recall once telling my daughter that if there is a headstone anywhere for me, it should have my biscuit recipe on it - my way of passing on a bit of comfort. And I would not be against it if my life in cooking were distilled to my black walnut fruitcake with Romanian quince brandy. My mission in life has long been related to food, if not precisely bounded by it.

What about you?

Josephine wrote:And I would not be against it if my life in cooking were distilled to my black walnut fruitcake with Romanian quince brandy.

Sorry to post on a tangent but I'm intrigued: for all the not-insubstantial amount of time I've spent meander in the extremely rural backcountry of Romania, I don't think I've ever run across ţuica from quince. Apple, of course. Plum, sure. Pear even. But I've never (knowingly) seen, drunk, or heard of of it made from quince. Not that they couldn't, of course...I think quince is a major crop in Romania. Learn something new every day. (Any chance of seeing the recipe? Sounds delish.)

Gypsy Boy - Here you go. Vinia Quince Brandy. I, too, had never heard of Romanian quince brandy until I saw it at the liquor store (don't know its name) on the east side of Lincoln just north of the McDonald's on Western north of Lawrence - across from the closed and reopened Ace Hardware. They had only two bottles when I last checked around Xmas, and may not have re-stocked. In any case, they move it around the store and you will likely need to ask for it. Sometimes it's in the Romanian wine section, sometimes it's with the slivovitz. $24.99 and worth twice that!


Romanian Quince Brandy by Josephine2004, on Flickr

As for the recipe. I am saving it to enter in a competition coming up this summer. Sorry, it's my only potential claim to fame. However, I would happily make you a fruitcake for the holidays next year.

Mine would be "She knew how to cook". Yes I do and you will not get a bad meal in my house. Many do not even know how to cook in this day and age.

Hi,

For many, many years my signature line was:

We love our work. We don't count our hours. We think our work has value. -- a quote attributed to a French farmer by Patricia Wells

Last year after Natalie Dupree's talk, I changed it:

"You'll be remembered long after you're dead if you make good gravy, mashed potatoes and biscuits." -- Nathalie Dupree

Now that my nieces are living on their own and really starting to cook. I am passing onto them recipes. If they are around, I make food with them to show them techniques that don't come across in a recipe.

Last weekend, my sister wanted an apple cake for a party. Rather than make it for her, I had her come over and make it. I offered suggestions, showed her how to evenly pat the dough out and spread the cinnamon sugar. Having made this cake for almost 39 years, I am happy to pass on my know how.

***

About 18 months ago, I was visiting an old friend. I inquired about some recipes. I learned she had been contemplating tossing her recipe box, because she can no longer cook. I was dumbfounded and very glad I mentioned it.

For the next three months, I would visit and spend a few hours transcribing her recipes. I discovered she wrote notes to herself about these recipes. I found my family mentioned a few times, because a dish had been served to us. I wrote every detail, which sometimes annoyed her.

Now the recipe box that was about to go, is transcribed and in the hands of her daughter, son, grandkids and myself.

Occasionally, I will come over with the ingredients to make some of these dishes. She is glad to try them, though they don't always taste the same as how she made it.

Having seen filled recipe boxes go for next to nothing at garage sales. I was glad to rescue the contents of this collection built over my friend's lifetime.

Regards,

Cathy- What a gift to that person to know that her recipes are being passed on!

I agree that it is beyond sad to see a box of recipe cards for sale. However, having come across some of these, I always feel that when I make the dishes with the dog-eared cards, I am honoring the person whose recipe I found. For some time now, I have been planning to make a grape meringue pie recipe that I found in a hotel in Traverse City Michigan as part of an old fashioned decor. I wonder if I am the only guest who ever took the time to copy a recipe from that box.

Is there a definitive way to pass along one's kitchen wisdom? Perhaps it makes the most sense to post online for the internet audience.

Josephine wrote:Is there a definitive way to pass along one's kitchen wisdom? Perhaps it makes the most sense to post online for the internet audience.

That's a good start, but then there's the technique and the "soul" of a dish, which can best be taught in person. Some of my grandmother's recipes exist on paper, but no one can make them taste the way she did.

Mine would be my lth tagline :"In pursuit of joys untasted" from Giuseppe Verdi's La Traviata

Josephine wrote:The Salt, NPR's food blog, carried this article, about the controversy over the lead-in to the NY Times obituary for Yvonne Brill, a rocket scientist. Apparently the obit opened with this statement, "She made a mean beef stroganoff, followed her husband from job to job and took eight years off from work to raise three children. 'The world's best mom,' her son Matthew said."

I agree with most who commented (on the NPR article) that it is unlikely that a male rocket scientist's obit would have such a lead-in. The pressure to juggle roles (and to cook in the first place) for women is sadly present even in death, an particular irony in the case of a woman who continually faced sexist barriers in her field. However, I was much more intrigued by the question posed by the NPR columnist, Maria Godoy, in the title of the article : What Do We Lose, And Gain, When Reducing A Life To A Recipe?

Perhaps some of us on LTH - regardless of gender - think that food and cooking feature so prominently in our lives as to be worthy of mention in our obits. I recall once telling my daughter that if there is a headstone anywhere for me, it should have my biscuit recipe on it - my way of passing on a bit of comfort. And I would not be against it if my life in cooking were distilled to my black walnut fruitcake with Romanian quince brandy. My mission in life has long been related to food, if not precisely bounded by it.

What about you?

I think the comments on the NPR site kind of miss the point -- because of course you wouldn't have that as a lead-in to an obit for a male rocket scientist -- you couldn't -- because it's really unlikely that most of that would ever be true of a male rocket scientist. I figure the point is that she blows away both the stereotypes of the smart woman/rocket scientist (dumpy, sexless, and with no life outside the lab) AND the stereotypes of the happy homemaker/wife/mom (no ambition beyond that next souffle and all kids well at one time). I love that she "had it all."

As for passing along a food heritage, being a fourth-generation serious pursuer of the culinary, I think the general fading out of society of that tradition of learning by the side of a family member who cooks is one of the great losses of the modern world. I love that Cathy2 had her sister come over and make the cake -- that really is the best way -- and often requires so much less trial and error, because there's someone there who can say "that's what it looks like when it's done." Excellent idea, C2.

I learned to cook from my parents (both were awesome and adventurous, though in different ways -- mom would tackle any technique, dad would try any ethnicity or ingredient) and from my grandmother (who actually had a degree in food science and home economics -- pretty good for a woman born in 1890), plus I have the heavily annotated first-edition of Fannie Farmer's Boston School of Cooking Cookbook that belonged to my great-grandmother. So lots of input, which makes me fairly comfortable in the kitchen.

Thinking of the comment about how one is remembered, my mom always said that my obit should include "You've gotta try this," as I've spent so much of my life shoving food and drink toward people who were not always eager to sample quite so widely as I was.