A Suggestive Grocery List!

photo by ana traina ~ 2011 ~

Aphrodite, the love goddess was said to consider "sparrows" sacred because of their "amorous nature" and for that reason were included in various aphrodisiac brews.
 
There was not always agreement upon what foods were in fact aphrodisiacs or "anaphrodisiacs."  But the ancient list included Anise, basil, carrot, salvia, gladiolus root, orchid bulbs, pistachio nuts, rocket (arugula), sage, sea fennel, turnips, skink flesh (a type of lizard) and river snails.

 

The ancients also suggested you avoid dill, lentil, lettuce, watercress, rue, and water lily... at all cost!

LAST BIT OD ODD AND END ~ Almond ~ A symbol of fertility throughout the ages. The aroma is thought to induce passion in a female. Try serving Marzipan (almond paste) in the shapes of fruits for a special after-dinner treat.
   

Rose...

drawing by ana traina ~2009 ~

my grandma rose...
my grandma rose and i shared the same grief.
she... lost her son and grandson...one misty july morning, to a
boating accident, on the hudson river.
and i... lost my father and my brother.

for 23 years, i'd silently watch her wake and beat her chest.
when she was done... she would take me into the nook of her bosom...
and i would feel safe.

when she was laid to rest, it was a snowy december day.
without words, i watched as they laid her body beside her beloved son
and grandson.

she had found, home -- and i had lost one.

but sometimes...
even now...
if i close my eyes and inhale really deeply...

i can still smell her milky breast.

and i feel safe.

Because of Ali Trotta's beautiful Zingertale" LA BELLA NONNA," yesterday, I am moved to share this poem and drawing that I created for Marie Christine Katz's blog, "MY FAVORITE GRANDMOTHER".

Happy Happy Day of YOUR, Mr. Burns!

not quite a mouse by ana traina ~2011~

Robert Burns (1759 - 1796) is probably the most famous of all the Scottish poets, and today is his day! Hooray!!  He was a farmer and wrote poems that were published in a local circulation of the town of Kilmarnock.   He became known as the "ploughman poet" and died at the age of thirty-seven.  This poem was written after Burns turned up a mouse nest with his plough, on Nov 1785 ".

To a Mouse, on Turning Her Up in Her Nest with the Plough

Small, crafty, cowering, timorous little beast, 

O, what a panic is in your little breast!


You need not start away so hasty


With argumentative chatter!

I would be loath to run and chase you,


With murdering plough-staff.

I'm truly sorry man's dominion

Has broken Nature's social union,
 

And justifies that ill opinion


Which makes thee startle


At me, thy poor, earth born companion

And fellow mortal!

I doubt not, sometimes, but you may steal;

What then? Poor little beast, you must live!


An odd ear in twenty-four sheaves
Is a small request;
 

I will get a blessing with what is left,


And never miss it.

Your small house, too, in ruin!


Its feeble walls the winds are scattering! 


And nothing now, to build a new one,


Of coarse grass green!


And bleak December's winds coming,


Both bitter and keen!

You saw the fields laid bare and wasted,


And weary winter coming fast,


And cozy here, beneath the blast,


You thought to dwell,


Till crash! the cruel plough passed


Out through your cell.

That small bit heap of leaves and stubble,


Has cost you many a weary nibble!


Now you are turned out, for all your trouble,


Without house or holding,


To endure the winter's sleety dribble,


And hoar-frost cold.

But little Mouse, you are not alone,

In proving foresight may be vain:


The best laid schemes of mice and men
 

Go often askew,


And leave us nothing but grief and pain,


For promised joy!

                                                 Still you are blest, compared with me!


The present only touches you:


But oh! I backward cast my eye,


On prospects dreary!


And forward, though I cannot see,


                                                                  I guess and fear!

La Bella Nonna!

the property of ali trotta's estate

The other day, I received an e-mail from Ali Trotta in response to the Semlor post.  I was so moved by Ali's beautiful story about her grandmother that I asked her if she would like to share it with Zingertales. Lucky for us she did, and here is what she wrote about her Dad's Mom ~

 Thinking about it, I have more things to remember her bye than I do for my other grandparents. I have her sewing kit, which is in an old cookie tin. I use all the time. I have her Singer sewing machine, which is missing a bobbin, so I can’t use it. I have her recipe box, which is a little world unto itself. It is full of handwritten cards (some in Italian), newspaper cuttings, and even recipes that she got by writing various restaurants and people.

Every time we’d go visit, she’d bake my favorite corn muffins (there are at least six different recipes in her box; I can’t figure out which one is the right one, so I’ll just have to make them all!). But every Christmas when we’d visit, she’d have rainbow cookies; whenever she’d visit us, she brought pastieri di grano (which is a kind of cheesecake) and pizza rustica (more commonly called pizza gain, which is a meat/egg pie; it is still the most delicious thing, ever).

As a kid, I remember refusing to let my mom sew a button on my sweater, because we were going to visit grandma, and I wanted HER to do it. She could sew anything. She also kept a garden in the backyard, and she'd often send me out to get something for her. Most often it was basilico. I didn't know, until I was a teenager, that basilico is actually Italian for basil.

I think, though, what I loved best was the wisteria tree she fashioned in her backyard. Wisteria is, technically, a vine; however, my grandmother fashioned garden stakes and all manner of things to force the vine to grow into a shape, making a tree in a sea of concrete. When she died, the tree blossomed, even though it was the wrong time of year; to this day, it’s one of my favorite smells and flowers.

the property of ali trotta's estate

I attached two pictures; one is of my grandparents on their honeymoon (it's a little grainy, but it's one of my favorites). The other is a picture of the wisteria tree, although it's not quite as neat as it was when my grandma was alive.


The second recipe is just for fun, and it's my grandma's recipe for Rainbow Cookies. It was one of my favorite things growing up. I hope you like it! If you need any Italian recipes, just let me know. I have everything from zeppolis to gnocchi. *grin* Recipes are below. If you have any questions, feel free to message me (or email: ali.trotta@gmail.com) xoxo Ali

Cream Puff

Boil 2 cups water with ½ teaspoons salt. Add ½ cup margarine, then add 2 cups flour. Still until it forms a ball. Remove from heat and add 8 eggs (if small) or 5 eggs (if medium), one at a time. Mix very well and drop teaspoon on a lightly greased cookie sheet. Bake 425 (five minutes), then lower to 350 for 15-20 minutes. When light golden, they’re done. Set aside to cool. Cut off top, when cooled.

Filling:

In a saucepan, mix 1 egg, 1 cup sugar, ½ cup flour, and ¼ teaspoon salt. Add 3 cups scalded milk and cook until it thickens. Add 1 ½ teaspoons butter and 1 teaspoon vanilla. Cool. Then fill puffs.

Alternate Cream (French Cream)

Mix in a saucepan, 3 egg yolks, 3 tablespoons sugar, 3 tablespoons flour, ½ teaspoon vanilla extract. Bea well, until sugar dissolves. Add 2 cups scalded milk, cook until thick. Add 2 ounces semi-sweet chocolate square. Cook until it melts. Remove from heat and cool.

Venetian Rainbow Cookies

Ingredients:

1 12 ounce can almond filling
1 cup sugar
1 2/3 cup margarine or butter (softened)
4 eggs, separated
1 tsp almond extract
¼ tsp salt
2 cups flour
1 jar (12 ounces) strawberry preserves
1 (12 ounce) bag of semisweet chocolate chips

1) Grease 3 pans (13x9x2). Line bottom with wax paper, then grease again.

2) In a large bowl, blend almond filling, butter, sugar, egg yolks, and almond extract. Mix 5 minutes until fluffy.

3) Beat in flour and salt

4) In a small bowl, beat egg whites until they form stiff peaks. With a wooden spoon, fold into mixture

5) Remove 2 cups of batter and spread evenly into pan. Remove another 2 cups, add green food coloring, then place in a second pan. Add red food coloring to remaining batter and spread evenly into the last remaining pan. Bake until the edges turn brown. Cakes will be ¼ inch thick.

6) Remove cakes from pans immediately and place on cooling racks.

7) Place green layer on a tray. Put preserves in a blender, blend. Then cook on the stove to warm up. Spread half over all the green layer. Place white layer on top and repeat, with the second half of the preserves. Place the red layer on top. Cover with wax paper and foil; weigh it down with a cutting board (I assume this means place a cutting board on top). Refrigerate overnight. Remove board next day. Keep refrigerated until ready to put on chocolate.

 Melt chocolate chips in a double broiler.

9) Spread chocolate evening on top and sides of cake. Let chocolate dry and then cut into squares. Refrigerate. Makes about 6 dozen, depending on how you cut them.


Again Ali, thank you so much for sharing this Zinger-riffic tale with us!

Happy Happy!

photo by ana traina ~2011~

这个年是年的龙。今中国年快乐和岁岁平安！

Translation: This year is the year of the dragon. Happy Chinese New Year, live long and prosper, Zingertalers!

photo by ana traina ~2012 ~

TEL. THE SEA, LONG 31 LAT 68                                                FAX. SEAGULL OR PIGEON

FROM THE DESK OF THE

CAPTAIN’S LOG

 MANLY DIARY # 689

January 22, 2012
Manly Diary #689
Captain’s Tale of Yore
Tragedy Portside
Lessons Starboard

 Dear Readers of all ages, all sizes, all genders and all shapes,

It is with great sadness that I write on this bright and sunny morn about the tragedy that occurred on the high seas near the coast of that ancient and most beautiful of lands. As we are on the high seas we somehow hear about these things through the sighting of misgivings in the air. Stars, weather and an overall feeling of loneliness begin to express to us the happenings of the world. That and a pigeon with a small note attached to his leg.  Paying tribute to the lives lost, to the families who are now burdened with such tragedy and recognizing a captain’s horrifically misguided decisions I look back to what I am responsible for on my journey eastward. My vessel filled with men who have left those they love, those they have lost and those who are yet to be met. The weight of such task I carry is one I relish. Although fear and anxiety beckons me (yes, me, dear reader) at every turn I awake to the struggle at hand and move through the waves of uncertainty with a vigor and confidence I only have because of the ship’s manifest and all those who have joined me.

I think upon the young one in times like these. Not so young anymore. A captain in waiting, yet has all the elements of a leader now. I remember not so long ago, seems like yesterday, that I was able to witness the young buck brave the worst of storms. It is was snowing on the eastern seaboard, ice covered the land with drifts of white preventing the most able of us from getting here to there. Some had to put metal racks on their boots to accommodate the wintry mix. He left for the day to do what he does best, captain his own ship, a ship of youngsters marching through a test of tomorrow’s applied sciences. I, too, ventured out to observe the young lad and his merry troop of scientific minions. And what I saw was nothing less than miraculous. This Captain of Technology led his small band of willing cohorts, with grace and elegance through a test if will, passion and perseverance. In the end they learned humility with the understanding they were capable of anything. I can only say how proud I was to watch all the things I am not. A Captain in the making. One that will be able to be responsible for many, for few or just himself and will awake, no doubt, to the ship’s manifest and carry on with the task at hand knowing that all who are depending on his every call, every whisper will want to feel safe in his hands. He will carry that with great joy. I am sure of it.


WORK STREET WORK CITY, WORK STATE WORK ZIP

WORK URL

The Island of Muckle Row...

drawing by ana traina ~ 2012 ~

Beulah Blundy lived with her best friend, Cordelia, on the lush and leafy and altogether lumpy island of Muckle Roe.
Now, if you haven’t already guessed, Beulah and Cordelia loved to amble to and fro, looking for the tastiest of tasty pastry dough.
When one day, and all of a sudden they lighted on a veiled and quite under-illuminated cave.
O’ yes, I do venture to say, they sure did misbehave!

For both Beulah and Cordelia delighted in the naughtiest of adventures,
Secretly daring to discover some, out of the ordinary and wholly extraordinary, creatures!
Nevertheless, as Beulah parted the caves’ sooty curtain, Cordelia had a definite feeling she might expire.
She pictured, blood-curdling bats, toady tigers, and shockingly spindly spiders...Why she thought this particular adventurous matter was rather dire!
Cordelia started to quiver and wobble, indeed, she felt as if afire!

Even so, Beulah urged her on by taking her paw and singing her an olden English song ~

My name is Jennie Jinttle, the eldest but one,
 

And I can play nick-nack upon my own thumb.


With my nick-nack and pad-lock and sing a fine song,


And all the fine laddies come dizzily dancing along.

 

In a moment, Cordelia forgot all her frightful fears and together they twirled into the starless cave, well, like silly dancing bears...
Whereabout they happened to meet some very entertaining trolls who excitingly invited them to a quick game of musical chairs. 

Yes, I am sure you would agree, it was bonny day on the lush and leafy and altogether lumpy island of Muckle Row.
Where indeed, only few might volunteer to go!


My Swedish Delightfuls!

My cousin's friend Chantal Gordon-Benoit made semlor after he forwarded her zingertales !

Due to the overwhelming response to yesterday’s blog which featured Semlor, my darling friend Charlotte sent me this photo and recipe... This is so fantastic as there are very few Semlor recipes translated into English!

Here is the wondrous sensation of Swedish delight!

Buns:
75 gram or 3/4 stick butter (or margarine for vegan)
2.5 dl or  a bit less than 1 (.85) cup milk
2.5 dl or about 1 cup sugar
25 gram fresh or 3.5 tblspn dry  yeast
7.5 or  3 cup white flour
teaspoon cardamum

Filling:
300 gram or maybe 2? cup Mandelmassa (almond paste, or I think Marzipan would work too)
3 dl or 1 1/4 cup whipped cream.
Powdered sugar!
Gör så här: Do the following:

1. Melt the butter in a sauce pan. Add in the milk and warm to “fingervarmt”, or around body temperature.

2. Dissolve the yeast in ab0ut 1/4 c water. Mix until the thick mixture is homogeneous, let sit for 10 min.

3. Add the rest of the dough ingredients: the salt sugar, cardamom and the majority of the flour. Save a little bit of the flour for forming the buns. Knead the dough until it is smooth and shiny, about 10-15 min. Place the dough back in the bowl and let rise for 40 min in warm, dry, place.

4. Take out the dough onto a flat surface. Form the buns by rolling circular shapes with your hands. They should be around 1.5 inches in diameter, but you can make them however you want.

5. Place the buns on a baking sheet with parchment paper. Let them rise for 30 minutes more. Heat the oven to 430 F (225 C)

6. If you want to, you can brush the buns with an eggwash or with soymilk. Set in the oven and bake for 10 min or so until done.

7. After then buns have baked and cooled for around 5 min, cut the top off each bun, about 1/4 inch down the bun. Pull out a bit of the warm bread-flesh from inside the bun. Add the extracted bread-flesh to a bowl with the (chopped or otherwise shredded) mandelmassa and stir them together.
8. Add the mandelmassa mixture to the empty spot in each bun. A top each mandelmassa, add a dollop of whipped cream. Set the tops back on each bun, and sprinkle them with powdered sugar, like snow.

Last bits of Odds and Ends ~ Here is Charlotte’s quick fix for the Semlor -- “One time I bought cardemumbuns and put in almond paste that I made looser with milk, + mixed in a little of the bread that was taken out . Only a small piece. You can mix in some sugar if you want.  And whipped the cream to a normal constitution. Don't forget the florsugar/powered sugar on top.”

Also, if you are a New Yorkian Zingertaler, here is a link where you can find Semlor, right here in the city...Fika NYC, http://www.fikanyc.com/ they stock them only in late January! OOODles of thanks goes to fellow zingertaler, Sarah, at tresjolie9!

THANK YOU,  CHANTEL and Thank You Dr. Rossi!

Warming Winter's Night!

my last standing apple, photo by ana traina ~2012~

This morning I received a lovely greeting from my dear friend, Charlotte Lindeberg.  She spoke about how warm the weather is now in Sweden, like autumn. She also said that she is still eating semlor on her balcony after the New Year. (Semlor = roll with whipped cream and mashed almond.) Eaten, with coffee, naturally. She then added this little tempting tidbit from the internet  ~

As we approach the carnival season which precedes the Christian fast known as Lent, it’s all about semlor.

Almond & whipped cream stuffed buns, fat Tuesday buns, cream burgers: All plausible English translation options for semlor, buns spiced with cardamom, filled with fluffy whipped cream and aromatic almond paste.

The name semla originates from the Latin word simila meaning fine wheat flour.

Historically, it was the extravagant food in which the people indulged during the Shrovetide - the final straight before Lent. All gluttony came to an end as Fat Tuesday turned to Ash Wednesday and the beginning of 40 days of fasting.

Nowadays, though, just as Christmas gets going in October, semlor are in hot demand in cafés and bakeries from January to Easter in Sweden. People eat them when they can get them.

In turn, I wanted to tell Charlotte all about the Shrovetide soup I had made last week from an Icelandic recipe, Salted Lamb with Yellow Split Peas. Coincidently, it is also made for Shrove Tuesday, (Bursting day)!

However, when I was leafing through my cookbook, “An Exaltation of Soups”, I stumbled on this wondrous recipe for Almond Aphrodisiac Soup that I thought I’d share with you, since in the last few days it has become quite nippy out.

The oddly extraordinary aphrodisiac recipes in ‘Venus in the Kitchen’, or ‘Love's Cookery Book’, were collated by Norman Douglas (written under the pseudonym of Pilaff Bey) for the "private use and benefit of a small group of friends".  The book, which was published in 1952, ranges from the simple and sublime (oysters in champagne, fillets of sole) to the decadently exotic (pie of bulls' testicles, sow's vulva - a favorite of Pliny's). Not for the faint-hearted I would say, it was praised by Elizabeth David and Graham Greene for its amorous "blend of the practical and the wildly not-so-practical".

Almond Aphrodisiac Soup
(from Venus in the Kitchen)

This soup stands on its own as a kind of decadent snack late on some winter's night when you and your lovie are wakeful. Almonds were known throughout antiquity for stimulating desire: Samson wooed Delilah with them; Sheik al Nefzawi swore by them; Alexandre Dumas dined on a bowl of almond soup each night before enjoying the favors of Mme. Mars, a diva of the theater. Rich and thickly nutty, slightly honeyed, this soup is lifted to heavenly delight with the tart contrast of jewel-red raspberries. Serve hot to two people with appetite...and maybe with champagne.

    •    2 hard-cooked egg yolks
    •    1 cup almonds, blanched and skinned
    •    1 cup chicken stock
    •    1 cup light cream
    •    2 Tablespoons honey

Garnish: 1/4 cup fresh raspberries, crushed and lightly sugared

Put nuts and egg yolks in the blender and chop fine. Slowly add the chicken stock, a spoonful at a time, until the ingredients make a fine paste. Continue blending on high speed as you slowly pour in the rest of the chicken stock and cream. Pour the contents into a saucepan and heat the soup very carefully on a low heat until it is hot and thick. It must never boil or it will curdle. Stir in the honey right before serving. Ladle into two bowls. Top each with spoonfuls of the raspberry puree and serve immediately.

Proof of Mermaids!

photo by valli o' reilly, digitally enhanced by ana traina ~2012~

The other day, my beautiful, and most extraordinarily talented friend, Valli O’ Reilly, wrote to me this... “I saw a MERMAID, it was on Venice Beach, New Year’s Day! First, I found a large diamond ring on the floor of Urth cafe, that I turned in! Then, I saw the mermaid... and then, someone left a pile of white shells on my porch?? I think it was a good way to start 2012!” She also asked me if I wanted to use her picture for Zingertales. Well, you know I did!

“Yes, indeed, what a wondrously magical New Year’s Day, Valli,” I thought! Then something in me, clicked, and I was reminded of a letter that I had read, which had inspired my photos of the Water Nixes... I would like to share it with all the adventurously marvel-seeking Zingertalers out there! So here is the letter as written ~

1797, According to a letter written by a William Munro to the London Times, published in its September 8, 1809 edition:

Dear Sir,

"About twelve years ago when I was Parochial Schoolmaster at Reay, in the course of my walking on the shore of Sandside Bay, being a fine warm day in summer, I was induced to extend my walk towards Sandside Head, when my attention was arrested by the appearance of a figure resembling an unclothed human female, sitting upon a rock extending into the sea, and apparently in the action of combing its hair, which flowed around its shoulders, and of a light brown colour. The resemblance which the figure bore to its prototype in all its visible parts was so striking, that had not the rock on which it was sitting been dangerous for bathing, I would have been constrained to have regarded it as really an human form, and to an eye unaccustomed to the situation, it must have undoubtedly appeared as such. The head was covered with hair of the colour above mentioned and shaded on the crown, the forehead round, the face plump. The cheeks ruddy, the eyes blue, the mouth and lips of a natural form, resembling those of a man; the teeth I could not discover, as the mouth was shut; the breasts and abdomen, the arms and fingers of the size in which the hands were employed, did not appear to be webbed, but as to this I am not positive. It remained on the rock three or four minutes after I observed it, and was exercised during that period in combing its hair, which was long and thick, and of which it appeared proud, and then dropped into the sea, which was level with the abdomen, from whence it did not reappear to me, I had a distinct view of its features, being at no great distance on an eminence above the rock on which it was sitting, and the sun brightly shining.

Immediately before its getting into its natural element it seemed to have observed me, as the eyes were directed towards the eminence on which I stood. It may be necessary to remark, that previous to the period I beheld the object, I had heard it frequently reported by several persons, and some of them person whose veracity I never heard disputed, that they had seen such a phenomenon as I have described, though then, like many others, I was not disposed to credit their testimony on this subject. I can say of a truth, that it was only by seeing the phenomenon, I was perfectly convinced of its existence.

If the above narrative can in any degree be subservient towards establishing the existence of a phenomenon hitherto almost incredible to naturalists, or to remove the scepticism of others, who are ready to dispute everything which they cannot fully comprehend, you are welcome to it from,

Your most obliged, and most humble servant,

WILLIAM MUNRO

I love, love, love, William’s closing greeting!

Temperance Abell!

drawing by ana traina ~2012 ~

Temperance Abell, liked wielding a piece of flaxen string into something she could wear. Her choice in material was such as absolutely none would compare. You see, she often liked working in strange fruits, like Sweet Tamarinds, Rosed Apples and Bartlett’s Pear!

All the same, today was a different day altogether, and inspired by her best friend Estelle, a gazelle, who she sometimes lovingly called, pudding head (no one really knows why). Temperance changed her golden thread into something, well, better left unsaid...  O, I was never very good at keeping secrets, it was a deep and darkish sort of Blackened Cherry Red, this thread!

Estelle, was all befuddled as she watched Temperance take an old and crusty slice of yesterday’s toast, that very much resembled something coming from the gloomy Barbary Coast.  She started to weave with a cinnamon’s flare something so elegant, something so rare.

Together with, as I turned away just to catch my breath, something happened, I heard it spoke, Temperance’s beauty of eternal note, she daintily purled, Brekekekéx-koáx-koáx, Ancient Greek, I discovered, for a frog’s croak-a-de-croak. It was so lovely in sound, it made me quite woozy, why, in my mind, I nearly did one hundred and five, well, maybe, it was one fluttery butterfly stroke!

That being so, with back stitching, Bakelite buttons and Estelle for  a bobbin winder, Temperance was done, her toasty slice and Blackened Red Cherry string were spun.  O’ at this very moment, I have little more to say, I have said all that I’ve said...and I am quite longing for my tale’s feathery bed.

Only in ending, as I float off to sleep, allow me to whisper this magnificent feat.  There was never a finer piece I have seen, that covered Estelle from tail to throat, there never was ever so tender, so toasty, a Blackened Cherry Red Opera Coat.
for Jennifer Udell
Temperance Abell recited by Scott Cohen/ AnastasiaTraina

Temperance Abell!

drawing by ana traina ~2011~

Temperance Abell, liked wielding a piece of flaxen string into something she could wear. Her choice in material was such as absolutely none would compare. You see, she often liked working in strange fruits, like Sweet Tamarinds, Rosed Apples and Bartlett’s Pear!

All the same, today was a different day altogether, and inspired by her best friend Estelle, a gazelle, who she sometimes lovingly called, pudding head (no one really knows why). Temperance changed her golden thread into something, well, better left unsaid...  O, I was never very good at keeping secrets, it was a deep and darkish sort of Blackened Cherry Red, this thread!

Estelle, was all befuddled as she watched Temperance take an old and crusty slice of yesterday’s toast, that very much resembled something coming from the gloomy Barbary Coast.  She started to weave with a cinnamon’s flare something so elegant, something so rare.

Together with, as I turned away just to catch my breath, something happened, I heard it spoke, Temperance’s beauty of eternal note, she daintily purled, Brekekekéx-koáx-koáx, Ancient Greek, I discovered, for a frog’s croak-a-de-croak. It was so lovely in sound, it made me quite woozy, why, in my mind, I nearly did one hundred and five, well, maybe, it was one fluttery butterfly stroke!

That being so, with back stitching, Bakelite buttons and Estelle for  a bobbin winder, Temperance was done, her toasty slice and Blackened Red Cherry string were spun.  O’ at this very moment, I have little more to say, I have said all that I’ve said...and I am quite longing for my tale’s feathery bed.

Only in ending, as I float off to sleep, allow me to whisper this magnificent feat.  There was never a finer piece I have seen, that covered Estelle from tail to throat, there never was ever so tender, so toasty, a Blackened Cherry Red Opera Coat.

Temperance Abell recorded by Scott Cohen and AnastasiaTraina

Knowing, Mother Goose...

photo by ana traina ~2012~

Yesterday, I learned that there was a statue of Mother Goose in Central Park. This was incredible news to me as I thought I knew everything about the park. So, of course I had to go and see for myself. She was not easy to find...but what a treat when I finally happened upon a fantastical sculpture of Mother Goose. She was shown flying on her oversized goose against the wind. The sculpture includes other characters: Humpty Dumpty, Little Jack Horner and Little Bo Peep. 
She was sculpted by Frederick George Richard Roth. The statue was placed in Central Park in 1938 after it was donated by the City of New York.

Then a thought occurred to me...

Who was Mother Goose?  Here is what I was able to uncover and discover ~ She was concoction of many she’s and he's—different writers—at different times. The term (Mother Goose) has been traced back to Loret's 1650 La Muse Historique in which appeared the line, Comme un conte de la Mere Oye ("Like a Mother Goose story"). Two French Queen Berthas have been conjectured as a "Mother Goose" but there is no traceable evidence that either was the reference in Loret's remarks.

— condensed from material in Mother Goose: From Nursery to Literature 
by Gloria T. Delamar
 
Also, in my search for who was Mother Goose, I just so happened upon this delightful and most curious recipe...

Boy Blue Haystacks

Equipment: large pot or mixing bowl, mixing spoon, can opener, pot holders, wax paper, teaspoon, rubber scraper, cookie pan or two dinner plates.

Ingredients: 1 10-ounce package butterscotch bits (or near to 10-ounce)  
1/2 cup peanut butter  
1 medium-size can chow mein noodles.

To melt the butterscotch in a microwave oven, empty the package into a microwave bowl and microwave for five minutes. Then check to see if they are melted; if not, zap them another few minutes. Use pot holders to take the dish out when the butterscotch is melted.

To melt the butterscotch on the stove, empty the package into a large pot. Use a low flame. You will have to keep stirring, so it doesn't burn. Use a pot holder to hold the handle. When the butterscotch is melted, take the pot off the stove.

Measure 1/2 cup of peanut butter. Put the peanut butter into the butterscotch and stir it together. When it is all mixed, add the can of chow mein noodles. Stir until the chow mein noodles are mixed in.
Cover the cookie pan or dinner plates with wax paper. Use the teaspoon to scoop out spoonsful of the mixture--you can use your fingers or a rubber scraper to push the recipe off the teaspoon. Put the "haystacks" close to each other, so all of the mixture will fit on the cookie pan or plates.

Put the Boy Blue Haystacks into the refrigerator for at least one hour, so they can chill and get firm.

Boy Blue wouldn't want asleep if he had these to eat!  


— from "Mother Goose Family Cookbook: Rhymes & Recipes; Activities & Histories,"
by Gloria T. Delamar

Last bit of odd and end ~

Little Boy Blue

Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn,  
The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn.  
Where's the little boy who looks after the sheep?  
Under the haystack, fast asleep.
As originally published, it ended with two lines not seen today: 
 
Will you wake him, no, not I,  
For if I do, he's sure to cry.

Audio of "Little Boy Blue" recorded by Scott Cohen, January, 7th, 2012

Little Boy Blue A by AnastasiaTraina

One Thing Leads to Another...

central park lagoon - photo by ana traina ~ 2011 ~

This morning I was leafing through my Central Park App on my iphone because my son had borrowed my computer plug last night and so by morning my computer was completely out of juice.  However, as things usually happen, one thing leads to another and by being forced to use my phone to check my mail and such I discovered that the most asked question in Central Park is, “Where Do the Ducks Go?” and that the person asking this question had probably just finished reading J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye. A book that is curious to me as both my son and I hate it and my husband loves it. A first, as we usually agree on most things...so of course, I needed to look up this passage (What was Salinger thinking, as I have always seen ducks in the winter!) and what it meant, here is what I was able to uncover and discover ~

The Ducks in the Central Park Lagoon

Holden’s curiosity about where the ducks go during the winter reveals a genuine, more youthful side to his character. For most of the book, he sounds like a grumpy old man who is angry at the world, but his search for the ducks represents the curiosity of youth and a joyful willingness to encounter the mysteries of the world. It is a memorable moment, because Holden clearly lacks such willingness in other aspects of his life.

The ducks and their pond are symbolic in several ways. Their mysterious perseverance in the face of an inhospitable environment resonates with Holden’s understanding of his own situation. In addition, the ducks prove that some vanishings are only temporary. Traumatized and made acutely aware of the fragility of life by his brother Allie’s death, Holden is terrified by the idea of change and disappearance. The ducks vanish every winter, but they return every spring, thus symbolizing change that isn’t permanent, but cyclical. Finally, the pond itself becomes a minor metaphor for the world as Holden sees it, because it is “partly frozen and partly not frozen.” The pond is in transition between two states, just as Holden is in transition between childhood and adulthood.

Last bit of Odd and End ~ Ducks can survive the cold and stay in Central Park as long as there is open water and access to the plants below for feeding. You can find many water foul stay year round, including, Canada Geese, Mute Swans, Black-crowned Night Herons, Ring-Billed and Herring Gulls, Wood Ducks and Mallards!

I guess, we are all a little like Holden Caulfield and wonder at some point in our lives, "Where do the Duck go?" Whether it is because of a forgotten plug, or some other lost connection...

Looking Backward!

drawing by ana traina ~ 1999 ~

This past holiday season I did a lot of looking backwards into my old journals, and I came across this curious and quite unusual drawing of mine with a question scribbled atop it... It read,  "Do you like potatoes?" Humph, very odd indeed. What was I thinking? What did I see, hear or think that inspired me to do this drawing? I know that I was in London when I created this drawing. Perhaps, I came upon an untended garden, or a wicked sort of saleswoman, or maybe I was just reading, James and the Giant Peach" to my son... The rest is a pecking mystery to be solved, and possibly, like buried treasure of olden days, if I pay close attention to the bits and scraps of clues that might float up near the surface of my consciousness, I will be able to skim its secret meaning that was so obvious just twelve years ago... or not! However the outcome, I do know this little drawing is somehow part of my story...and that looking back always helps one in leaping forward. Although, I am really trying to stay away from potatoes these days!

Love and Mouth Bathing!

photo by ana traina ~ 2012 ~

With winter upon us, and the cold season in full gale, one’s breath can become rather rankish. So, I thought it wise to post this recipe for Rosemary Water for mouth bathing. It is taken from a very old book (dated 1719) entitled, “A Butler’s Recipe Book,” that I received for Christmas this year from my husband.

Flowers of Rosemary being distill [ed], the water being Drunke at morning and evening and last, taketh away the stench of the mouth and breath and maketh it very sweet. Add thereunto to steep or infuse for 8 to 10 days some Cloves, Mace, Cinamon and a few Aniseeds. Rosemary flowers, made up into plates and duble(double) refine sugar affter the manner of sugar Rossets and eaten, comfort the heart and make it merry, quicken the spirits and make them more lively!

A Bit of Rosemary lore

In the Middle Ages, - the bride would wear a rosemary headpiece and the groom and wedding guests would all wear a sprig of rosemary, and from this association with weddings, rosemary evolved into a love charm. Newlywed couples would plant a branch of rosemary on their wedding day. If the branch grew, it was a good omen for the union and family.

In ‘A Modern Herbal’, Mrs Grieves says, “A rosemary branch, richly gilded and tied with silken ribands of all colours, was also presented to wedding guests, as a symbol of love and loyalty.” If a young person would tap another with a rosemary sprig and if the sprig contained an open flower, it was said that the couple would fall in love.

Rosemary was used as a divinatory herb. Several herbs were grown in pots and assigned the name of a potential lover. They were left to grow and the plant that grew the strongest and fastest gave the answer. Rosemary was stuffed into poppets (cloth dolls) to attract a lover or attract curative vibrations for illness. It was believed that placing a sprig of rosemary under a pillow before sleep would repel nightmares, and if placed outside the home it would repel witches. Somehow, the use of rosemary in the garden to repel witches turned into signification that the woman ruled the household in homes and gardens where rosemary grew abundantly. By the 16th century, men were known to rip up rosemary bushes to show that they, not their wives, ruled the roost.

Chasing Winter's Blues!

photo by ana traina ~ 2012 ~

Today is January 2nd, and the days are quite short. A fragile time where melancholy can touch even the brightest soul...that is why dear Zingertalers I have sought out this tale...

 For ages and around the world healers searched out nature's apothecary to aid in everything from healing wounds to curing melancholy. Par example, Arab physicians and European healers in the Middle Ages used the Queen of Flowers, roses, to alleviate sadness and hopelessness. During the 1600s, John Evelyn, an English writer and avid gardener, wrote about LEMON BALM flowers as a spirit-lifting tonic. Lemon verbena flowers appeared in European healer's kits in the late 1700s specifically to soothe nervousness and ease depression.


The generic name Melissa (Lemon balm) comes from the Greek word for bee. The Greeks believed a sprig of balm in a hive would attract a swarm and planting nearby the hive would mean the swarm would never leave. It was also used medicinally and dedicated to Diana. In medieval times it was used  to dress wounds and cure all forms of ailments from crooked necks to morning sickness. The Arabs are thought to have brought the plant to Europe in the 10th Century.

The great Paracelsus called this herb "The elixir of life,"and combined it with carbonate of potash in a mixture known as Primum Ens Melissae. Allegedly one of Louis XIV's physicians, Lesebure, tried this out on an elderly chicken, which within a few days lost its tattered plumage, grew fresh feathers and started to lay eggs again. Prince Llewellyn of Glamorgan claimed he drank Lemon Balm tea everyday of his 108 years of life and it was the reason he lived so long. It is recorded that Carmelite monks used the plant for the first time in 'Carmelite tea' in 1611. John Hussey of Sydenham, England, who lived to the age of 116, breakfasted for 50 years on balm tea sweetened with honey.

APOTHECARY QUOTES

John Evelyn "Balm is sovereign for the brain, strengthening the memory, and powerfully chasing melancholy".
Gerard 'The juice of Balm glueth together greene wounds." 
Pliny 'It is of so great virtue that though it be but tied to his sword that hath given the wound it stauncheth the blood.'
Gerard "It is profitably planted where bees are kept. The hives of bees being rubbed with the leaves of bawme, causeth the bees to keep together, and causeth others to come with them.'
Pliny 'When they (the bees) are strayed away, they do find their way home by it.'

OTHER USES

As an ingredient in the liqueurs Benedictine and Chartreuse.
Balm is widely used in herbal drinks and tonics. 
For bathing - Put 50 - 60 g of the leaves with 1 litre of cold water and heat it through, add the liquid to your bath water. 
To attract bees.
To repel ants and flies (contains Citronella). 
Against insect bites.
As a furniture polish. 
Balm oil is still a favorite scent throughout the Middle East.

LAST BITS OF ODDS AND END ~ Eau de Carmes, a fashionable 17th century perfume, was a distillation of balm leaves and spirits of wine, to which were added lemon peel, nutmeg, cloves and cinnamon. There are various ways to experience flowers so they offset depression besides living or fresh-cut flowers. Options include preparations like lavender bath salts for relaxation, rose lotions for improved happiness, dried flower potpourri for a blend of good feelings, and perhaps a cup of Mr. Evelyn's lemon balm tea to calm those nerves and lift depression.

LEMON BALM helps the forgetful to remember!