Happy Thanksgiving!

 

First of all, congratulations to the newlyweds, Katie and Christian! Kayla and I enjoyed Katie's Skype shower very much. It was fun get to spend so much time virtually seeing Katie again. 

 

All of these teenage cousins are fast becoming adults. Kayla and Anna are both talking of moving out this summer, when they will be 18 & 20. Yesterday, I teared up just thinking about how my baby will be turning 7 soon.

 

As it turned out, though, 3 of my 4 kids still dressed up for Halloween. I thought only Maya would. But Kayla went to a college party as Catwoman, which didn't really warm my heart. I felt better when Catwoman got home safely. I was even happier when she got a CNA job offer in the new geriatric psych ward at Ridgeview Medical center. She's still working out the details on that one, looking for a schedule that works for her.

 

Dylan regretted his no trick-or-treating decision at the last minute, which did warm my heart. Harry's family was still home and they were excited he could make it, so he dressed up as a Boise State fan, and went with them. Dylan recently started rec basketball too, which should keep him busy through the winter months.

 

Jake got out the drill and made this disco ball pumpkin for us. Maya loves decorating for holidays. Jake was off today and at Maya's urging, put Christmas lights on the house and decorations in the front yard. She danced barefoot in the yard (it was 55 degrees outside) and made up a song.

 

 

Last weekend, Jake and a few others at Lafayette executed a 14-course dinner for an elite party of 10. Dinner was served in the banquet kitchen to rave reviews. I'll see if I can get a few pictures of that for the next post. Or maybe Jake can show you the DVD of the event.

 

Anna and I went to Bob Dylan. I warned her that nothing shatters your illusions like a Dylan concert. She grudgingly agreed when he opened his mouth to sing. The quality of his voice is equal to that of this photo. Unrecognizable. But still quite an experience. Mark Knopfler (of Dire Straits fame) played before him and with him for 2 songs. He sounded great and he was funny, too. Mostly, it was just fun to do something with Anna. We'll have more of that this week as we visit a college or two and check out housing options.

 

Since I've been posting so many pictures of this grizzly bear, I thought you'd like to see that he or she is settling in for the winter. As these three seem to be:

 

 

Fall

Life gets crazy in September and October, but now it's MEA break. I wonder who goes to the MEA conference. I would, if it was mandatory or if I would be paid no less than $5,000 to attend. Most things have their price. I asked Kayla how much money it would take for her to sell our cat, S'more. She stood firm in the hundreds, but started wavering around $1,000. We almost tried to give Luna away a few weeks ago, but Anna saved her with her tears and empty promises of taking her to the dog park. Mostly it was the tears, since Anna doesn't break those out too often. Anna's doing well at school. Byerly's offered her a supervisor position, but she declined since in the restaurant biz, waiting tables pays better. Kayla's job searching for a nursing assistant position at a hospital and has an interview next week.

 

 

 

 

 

Maya's loving first grade. She's still into birds, like this Victoria Crowned Pigeon which she immediately identified at the zoo. Thanks to Kelly for the great zoo pics! And here's Maya's awesome peacock Halloween costume. I think she might be the only one of my kids to dress up this year.

 

Jake took these picks at the end of our street. There's a couple of days each fall when the trees make a red golden tunnel over the road and this year, we didn't miss it.

Dylan turned 11! He had a busy 3 day weekend: went to a friend's house, spent the night at Isaac's and went to his party at Grand Slam the next day, then his last baseball game, 2 more friends' houses and a family party. The family party was also for Michelle & Isaac, who share a birthday with each other and Matt. Some of Dylan's highlights were playing with fire and having pumpkin pie instead of cake. Highlights for me were hearing the voices and laughter pouring into the house while I worked in the kitchen and having my grandparents there.

I was just at Cub with Dylan and he insisted we use the self-check out. In his excitement, he butted in line. I nudged him and he quickly apologized to the guy in front of us. The man responded instantly, "Are you sorry you cut in front of me or are you sorry you're wearing that Packers jersey?" Dylan laughed pretty hard and said, "I wear this jersey with pride!"

 

Jake's Fourth Family Food Feature

 

Jake just returned from East Lansing, Michigan, where he attended a week long Club Manager training. He brought us all Michigan State gear, perfect for me, since I was a Richfield Spartan (although not a very enthusiastic one) and my favorite color is green. Upon his return, Jake accompanied us on another trip to the MN Zoo. Maya would go every day if she could. Then, last night, he and Dave went to the Rush concert. He reported that, as usual, it was a predominantly male, white and nerdy, 40-year old-crowd, Geddy attempted to dance, and the music was good. I think Rush concerts are about the only place where men have to wait in line for the bathroom and women don't.

 

The kids are doing well. Maya started gymnastics. First grade is good. Every day, she makes lists of birds and animals, reads about them, looks them up on the computer and draws them. Dylan's playing fall ball. He has games Sept. 29, Oct. 6th, 13th and 14th, if you want to attend. Anna helped a lot while Jake was gone, getting kids off to school and taking our psychotic dogs to the dog park. Her classes are interesting. And she asked me to go to Bob Dylan with her in November. How could I refuse? Kayla's added working out to her 6 day work week plus school regime. She was just sleeping on the couch behind me, but she must have slumped downstairs.  

 

 

 

September article by Jake:

 

Welcome to fall y’all!  I want to thank my staff as well as staff in other departments for a great summer.  We all know that Lafayette Club is a destination spot for all things, especially during the summer months.  The summer of 2012 was one of the busiest in my memory.  Thank you so much for the hard work, diligence, patience, inspiration, creativity and “digging in” to get it all accomplished.  Also, many thanks to the membership for the opportunity to be part of a special place to so many.

I have an admission to make.  I have left something out.  In my past articles I recounted my memories of food, eating and gathering with my family.  There’s a big chunk missing.  My mom.  I only have one page to try and get down 18 years of praise, gratitude and humility.  From about the age of four to the age of 13, my mom raised five kids on her own.  She worked three part-time jobs, year round, to make ends meet.  She was a substitute teacher, she did administrative work for a business person, and she taught piano lessons.  At the time, we kids always felt like we were getting the raw end of the deal.  No sugary breakfast cereal, we never went out to eat (except for birthdays) and we had to eat homemade bread.

Homemade bread in our house was not from a bread maker.  The process usually began on Saturday mornings around 5:00 a.m. (at least that’s what it felt like).  Mom ground her own wheat to make the flour to make the bread.  The grinder was in the basement in the laundry room, next to the room that I shared with my two brothers.  Have you ever ground wheat?  If you haven’t, understand that a helicopter could land in your yard and you wouldn’t hear it.  Sometimes I think she ground the wheat out of parental spite toward a child.  If so, touché, Mom.  The dough was usually proofing on the counter by early afternoon, punched down, re-proofed, formed, baked and cooling by late afternoon.  That was bread for the week.  Looking back, the bread was fantastic.

The wheat that we had in the house (two 30 gallon drums) was also used for breakfast cereal a couple of times a week during the winter.  The night before, the whole wheat would go in the crock pot with water to be slow-cooked.  No kid wakes up and says, “Ooh, yay, whole wheat cereal!”  But once you got some half and half and some brown sugar in the mix, it was pretty dang good.  I still do this from time to time with my kids and get the same reaction out of them.  Hot, whole wheat cereal must be timeless.

My cousin Maureen and her family live a couple miles away and had a huge garden from which we would get bushels and bushels of sweet corn.  We’d spend an afternoon, shucking, boiling, cutting, bagging and freezing.  The best part of freezing corn is eating the “planks” of corn cut from the cob when it’s still hot.  Bags and bags and bags were laid up for the year.  We always had good corn.  We would also pick apples and can applesauce, cooked apples and make apple pies.  One afternoon, Aunt Dorothy came over and we made 30 apple pies.  The dough was made from scratch (using lard instead of butter or Crisco).  We kids had the task of peeling, coring and cutting the apples.  Our hands we purple with “apple rust” when we finished.  Once the pies were done, 15 of them were distributed about the neighborhood to families, friends and even people we didn’t know too well. 

About once a month, Mom would garner the energy on a Sunday night to fix up a treat.  In the summer, it tended to be what we called “scones”.  I think it was a recipe from my grandma who’s Scottish.  Basically it’s dough that you cut into smallish pieces and fry in oil.  Once out of the oil, dab dry with paper towels and roll in sugar.  The only issue with this process was that when we’d find out that Ma was making scones, we’d go tell the neighbor kids.  Pretty soon, there were 10-15 bikes laying down in the yard and a bunch of kids waiting for scones.  We’d sit on the steps with our napkin and blazing hot scones and chow.  It wasn’t a bad way to spend an evening in the summer.

 

Thanks, Mom.

 

 

Anyone want a free couch with a litter box full of rain water on top?

 

This couch has been sitting in our neighbor's yard for a few months. It started out facing forward, complete with cushions, looking pretty good, with a FREE sign. That night it rained. I figured they'd move the couch, but no. By and by it rained again, the cushions disappeared, and they turned the couch around. Eventually, the couch became faded and torn and more rain fell. I have sort of been counting and I believe rain has fallen on it seven times.

 

Yesterday, the neighbors placed this new FREE sign upon the couch, tucked into what appears to be a litter box. Last night, we got more rain. The Dead End sign is just bonus. This has brought me as much enjoyment as the Sign Spotting books. Maybe I should make them an offer.

 

Back to school

School's off to a good start for all of us. Since Maya started 1st grade and is in school full days now, Jake has been able to get much of his work done during the school day and has been home an unprecedented 4 nights this week. It's awesome! He's been taking the dogs and kids to the dog park each night. Luna (not yet 6 months old) is the large one in the foreground.

 

We switched Maya from Spanish to English, since the former seemed to be causing unnecessary stress for her. She has adjusted very well to full days. Dylan looped up from 4th grade to 5th with the same teacher and he's doing great. Here they are waiting for the bus on the 1st day of school.

 

Anna's got 5 classes at Normandale, 2 of which are online. The other 3 just meet on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so she has time to work at Byerly's and study.

 

Kayla's taking 2 classes at Hennepin Tech. and working full time. She's relishing her employee of the month parking spot.
 

 

Kayla and Sam at a Japanese friend's party.

 

My favorite pic from Kayla's hour long stream of Pinterest pictures:

 

Here is Jake's next installment, his 3rd club newsletter article:

Excerpts from the mind and memory of a chef (3rd installation):

In the past two issues of the Inkling, I have recounted various memories I have had as a child with respect to family, food & eating.  I have briefly expressed what stuck in my mind from my childhood as I was exposed to the importance of being with family and how our meals have a great impact on how as adults, we have the great opportunity and responsibility to do the same for the next generation.

For those that don’t know, I have two step-daughters ages 19 and 17 and I have been a part of their lives since the beginning.  I also have a 10-year old son and a six-year old daughter.  My wife and I met while working at the old Copperstein restaurant on County Road 19 in Tonka Bay (many of you may recall that spot).  As I have progressed through the culinary world and my wife has moved on to her career, meal times at home can be quite hectic.  With four kids, likes and dislikes vary greatly.  If I am home making dinner, it is very possible that I am making three or four different meals.  Each kid has their favorites.

Exposing the kids to new and different things has always been a challenge.  They love my pot roast, pork ribs and risotto.  One kid doesn’t like to eat fresh fruit, but I’m a stickler for a balanced diet.  He gets fresh squeezed juice in the mornings.  I’ll throw carrots, apples, grapes, a wad of pineapple, a few strawberries and Cara Cara oranges into the juice extractor and he’ll chug ten ounces.  The little girl will eat broccoli like no one’s business.  This year, she’s helping tend to broccoli plants and she can’t wait to eat the broccoli she’s helped cultivate.  She also helps pick our strawberries (which she will eat) and tomatoes (which she will not eat but is more than happy to harvest). The older girls love when I make bacon.  I know just how they like it and I always hold some back because they’ll eat all of it if no one’s watching.  We have all enjoyed picking wild raspberries and strawberries along the North Shore and having little else for a snack.

Our favorite family meal takes place in the spring, summer and fall.  I pull the grill out into the driveway.  We set up a couple of tables and pull out our collapsible lawn chairs.  The boy and I usually go to the store for our very important ingredients.  Depending on the time of year, some of the ingredients come from the garden.  The prep work begins.  I dice onions, puree garlic, cut olives (nice ones), shave some celery, peel some orange zest, pick rosemary, oregano & chives (chop ‘em up) and get some banana peppers out of the garden.  We buy a nice, crusty sourdough loaf and slice it thick.  I drizzle it with a little olive oil and dust it with sea salt and fresh cracked pepper.  I’ll grill the bread just before the meal is ready to serve.  In a pot on the grill, I start with the olive oil, garlic & onions.  Heat that up and start adding the other ingredients in order of cook time.  My son wants to do all the work (I just instruct him with the how’s and when’s).  At the very end, we dump in the cleaned mussels, a splash of white wine and put the cover on the pot.  We fire the bread, get everyone outside and once the mussels pop, we’re set to go.  I pour the mussels and vegetable mix into a large bowl in the center of the table.  We put a big ladle in it and the self-service commences.  We put plastic buckets on the ground for mussel shell disposal.  The bread we dip in olive oil or soak up the amazing mussel broth.  There’s a lot of finger licking (wouldn’t want to waste the flavor on a napkin) and laughing and the click of mussel shells hitting the buckets.  We finish the event by walking the dogs while the meal settles.

This is my favorite meal and I hope that my kids pass this one on.

See you at the Club,

Jake



Jake's cheese plate for his mom's book group. In his next article, he reminisces about his mom's cooking...

The Talbergs (and Giant Creatures)

This is Jake's 2nd of 4 articles (so far) on the topic of family memories created around food. Again, he may have exaggerated a detail or two.

Excerpts from the mind and memory of a chef (installation #2):

My maternal grandparents lived in Foley, MN.  They had an old farmhouse replete with a dilapidated red barn in which we had our unsupervised childhood fun (mostly hassling the “polydactylated” barn cats).  When my family would gather, feeding everyone was quite a task.  To understand the volume of food that would be required to feed a gathering of my family, consider that on my mom’s side of the family, there are 43 grandchildren.  Some of those grandkids had kids, include aunts, uncles, friends and you’ve got a healthy sized group.  Now, rest assured that every get-together did not include everyone for any number of reasons.  But what my grandma produced out of her farmhouse kitchen was nothing short of extraordinary. 

My grandma worked in Wayzata when my mother was young, tending to the children of the Whitney family.  As I progressed in the culinary world, she was always inquisitive of how the operations worked, what we did, how did it compare to when she was in the “industry”.  Her interest in my work, as well as that of my youngest brother always brought her a smile.  Conversely, the first time I beat her in cribbage was the last time she ever played with me (that, I suppose was the German in her).  My grandpa did tree work and worked construction, worked on the Alaskan pipeline where he witnessed men drink antifreeze to keep warm (they were drunk, then dead) and in Guam where he lost the lower half of his leg in a pile-driver accident. But what they cultivated on their property is still talked about in my family.

My grandpa planted a fruit tree for every grandkid, mine was apricot.  He had two gardens where ALL of their fruits and vegetables were produced.  They canned and froze everything.  Sauerkraut was made in clay pots and buried in the ground to be exhumed the following spring.  Rows and rows of the best corn I have eaten in my life, potatoes both Russet and sweet, peas, beans, beets, red currants for jelly, strawberries, raspberries and cucumbers for pickles to name just a few things.  The cellar shelves were loaded with year’s worth of supplies.  It was a true cellar, one light bulb, a wringer dryer and a toilet.  But try getting a kid to use it with all the spiders and other creepy crawlies down there.  No thanks.

Meal times were chaos.  Adults ate first.  If kids entered prior, they would be chased out of the kitchen with the fly-swatter.  It hung on the wall and I have no idea how my grandma commandeered it so quickly.  The kids ate in the stairway, no room in the kitchen, dining area or living room.  Oldest cousins sat at the top and the youngest at the bottom.  There was great pride in rising to the top of the stairs.  Reason was, if you were on the top and someone spilled milk (which happened every time), you were safe and thus could eat uninterrupted. 

Once my grandparents passed, my mom and her remaining siblings were tasked with cleaning out the house.  She asked if there was anything I wanted from the house.  Without hesitation I replied, “the jelly jar that’s shaped like an apple and the little plaque with the dinner bell that read ‘Good bread, good meat, good gosh, let’s eat.’”  She told me later that 25 of my cousins had requested the plaque.  We were fond of the food, the visits and the company.  When gathering with family now, we still talk about the food.  It came from nowhere and it came from everywhere.  Thanks Ruth & George!

See you at the Club, Jake

 

 

 

 

 

 

Work

Kayla is up north with her dad's family this week. She texted me that she was "crowned employee of the month!!!" at the nursing home. Anna started waiting tables at Byerly's, which is proving to be an excellent job for her. She's also been refinishing a lovely bedroom set generously donated by her great grandparents, so she's keeping busy. Next week, Kayla heads back to Henn. Tech and Anna to Normandale.

"I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now." -Bob Dylan, My Back Pages

 

Two nights ago, the club hosted this fundraiser. Jake said he wouldn't be on the news, so we didn't tape it and I had to resort to rewinding and photographing the tv. But there he is, with his sous chef, moving their cars to accommodate the event. At this moment, they were saying to each other that this had better not be on the news.

It's been a crazy busy summer for Jake at the club. Writing a monthly article for the club newspaper is just one of the multitude of things that he does. I think his summer articles are particularly rich and well-written, so I asked if I could post them here. He agreed, but wanted to include the disclaimer that he embellished a detail here and there to make for a better read. So, this is Jake's June article (I'll post the others later):

 

Excerpts from the mind and memory of a chef (installation #1):

As a 9 to 13 year old, my brothers and I would spend a few weeks in the summer with my paternal grandparents in northern California.  My grandpa was a part-time custodian at his church, a part-time swimming pool salesman and a full-time walnut orchard owner.  Grandma worked part-time for my uncle in his dental practice doing the filing and appointments.  Their ten acres of trees were surrounded by an irrigation ditch covered in wild blackberry brambles.  Morning sojourns to collect the berries resulted in poor yields.  We would eat more than we would save.  We’d return with black syrupy juice dried all over our faces and shirts.  Mollie, their golden retriever, would go to the end of the long drive to get the Sacramento Bee.  She’d slobber all over the paper, but she always got a treat.  Our next chore was to go to the chicken coop to pluck any eggs the hens may have laid over night.  We would usually be rewarded with four or five (except for a five day dry spell when the hens wouldn’t lay because a black widow spider decided the coop was a great place to hang her web.  Grandpa found her and took care of her with two 2x4’s).  We’d have a quick breakfast and then get on with our day.  We’d hop on the tractor with Grandpa while he disked the soil into dykes to ready the orchard for irrigation.  Irrigation would be a day long process starting with opening the irrigation valves and flooding the north sector.  Two hours later with shovels in hand, we’d break the dykes and allow the water to flow into the next section and so on until the last section was flooded.  Each time an area was emptied, we’d go and collect the crawfish that lay exposed and run them up to the house.  Freshwater crawfish aren’t too bad when you catch them yourself.

Some days we’d go across the street and get kiwis from the orchard there.  Other days we’d skip over a couple of lots and get peaches.  We never, ever went to the store to buy produce.  Grandma and Grandpa always knew and traded with someone.  Walnuts for honeydew, blackberries for corn, eggs for peaches.  We’d visit our cousins in Yuba City and stop at road side stands for other fruits and vegetables.  We rode in the bed of Grandpa’s Chevy pick-up past a tomato distribution center where semi trucks full of tomatoes would endlessly enter, dropping tomatoes on the road.  The pavement was always stained red and the bees were thick.  Past that were the almond and pecan orchards, followed by the peaches and nectarines.  I was always impressed at the linear nature of the orchards.  When we’d whip by them quickly (Grandpa always drove fast) the passing rows created a hypnotic pattern if you positioned yourself just right.  I was always amazed with the growing of food there.

Food is important.  Food creates memories.  Kids remember food, they remember where they were, what they ate, how it tasted, who was there when they ate.  As adults, we share meals with friends and family.  We invite them to our homes; we meet them at restaurants and converse over food and wine.  These gatherings are important, especially today.  Everyday can be a memory and so often it revolves around food.  Lafayette Club is a great place for these memories to happen.  We as staff are fortunate to be a part of this process.

See you at the Club,



Jake

 

 

 





On vacation

Jake had the week off. It was great to have him home. Actually, we weren't home that much. We started off the week by visiting Mike & Jen in South Dakota. Everyone had a great time swimming, & spending time with cousins and seeing the animals.

The baby goats were at the Bramble Park Zoo, where they also had a fat coyote, albino peacocks, and Maya's favorite, the Lady Ross Turaco. She's really into birds right now.

After a day or two at home, we headed to Marissa's family cabin in Wisconsin. We had a great time fishing, swimming and relaxing.

I found the following pics on Dylan's camera. (Sara, maybe you can pass the lizard one on to Jimmy). This is Dylan's leopard gecko, Sesto. Named for a Lamborghini, I think.

 The week before our family vacation, Dylan went up north into the BWCACWA (or whatever) with his friend's family. Looks like he had a good time, there, too.

 Dylan's bunk must be the one with the blanket Grandma Olsen made for Jake which Dylan claimed as his own.

I've never thought of taking a picture in the Mpls tunnel, but it is a good feeling to know you're getting close to home.

While Dylan was away, Maya successfully completed swimming lessons. This was a daunting challenge for her, but she overcame her fears of the deep water and putting her face in. As a reward, she got to go to the U of M Raptor center. She's especially interested in birds of prey as of late. Her favorite was the turkey vulture. Here she is with other faves, the one eyed bald eagle and the peregrine falcon. She impressed the tour guide by already knowing all of the birds given names and details about each one. She'd been studying their website for weeks.