Good things in a goodbye

Sunday night was the closing the San Francisco Opera's Das Rheingold. It was time for a little cake
and a few goodbyes to people Sophie had grown very fond of, her stage managers.

And while I've grown weary of driving over the bridge and late nights with a young child, Sophie and I both left the opera house basement with a sense of regret. We like that place. We hope she'll be cast again but know it might not be for a while. Children are not featured in many operas for obvious reasons. The next production with a large cast of children is The Bonesetter's Daughter, based on Amy Tan's book. The call went out a while ago . . . for Asian children. Maybe next time.

But the fact that we take a piece of our experience with us was obvious as we left. Sophie stopped at the stage door, looked up at the monitor, which was still broadcasting the continuing performance, and insisted "We have to wait! This is my favorite part!" She bounced back and forth on her toes and hummed a few bars of the music that plays when the bridge comes down and the gods depart. I didn't even know she knew it.

Driving home through the city, tired but happy, we saw that the columns on the front of the Opera House were lit up in rainbow colors for the Gay Pride weekend, always an important event but this year even more so following the California Supreme Court's ruling on gay marriage. Could it really be true that marriage will be about love not ideology based on ignorance, hate, and fear? That we are finally moving from intolerance to tolerance and finally to acceptance? Who knows, if this is possible, maybe we will soon have a president who wages peace instead of war and helps heal wounds and divisions. And in spite of all the bad news, I felt a gentle optimism as I watched my child moved by art and a city moved by love.

What the Figs eat when they camp

I like to think I married an intelligent man, but sometimes Husband makes that challenging. For example, I am planning the food for our upcoming camping trip. We will be driving up through the Grand Tetons (Big Tits in French—George Carlin would like that) and Yellowstone and then meeting my family in Montana for a week at a guest ranch to celebrate my parents' fiftieth wedding anniversary. Once we get to the ranch, we're fed, entertained (taken fishing, placed on horseback, floated on rafts, and hiked up and down various peaks), so no need to plan for that, but for the roughly nine days before we get there, we're eating at my camp kitchen.

To make this more of a family project, I asked Sophie and Husband to suggest meals they might like. Husband even went to far as to add his suggestions to a list of items and tasks he was typing out. He suggested barbecued chicken (good) and . . . casserole. WTF???

HUSBAND: Yes, casserole. I like your casseroles.

ME: And just what did you have in mind? Lasagna??

HUSBAND: That. And I thought maybe your moussaka. You could make it beforehand [a great idea because we know I have nothing else to do].

ME: Did you notice that I usually warm something like this up in an OVEN? Are we now bringing an OVEN? Or maybe I should use my MAGIC COOKING WAND.

HUSBAND: So maybe not casseroles then.

Here's what we're going to have (not necessarily in this order):

DINNERS

1. chili*
shredded cheese
skillet corn bread, butter and honey



2. barbecued chicken w/herb and garlic rub
orzo with pesto*

3. hamburgers stuffed w/ basil and fresh mozzarella*
baked beans

4. tacos: carne asada, Mexican cheese, onion, cilantro, salsa
cabbage slaw
beans

5. grilled marinated chicken breasts
rice
sauteed greens

6. tacos: carnitas*, Mexican cheese, onion, cilantro, salsa
cabbage slaw
bean

7. pasta puttanesca
sauteed zucchini

8. grilled pizza: mozzarella, asiago, chevre, artichoke hearts, kalamata olives, prosciutto

9. leftovers

And we usually have a green salad with all dinners.

* These items I have prepared and frozen.

DESSERTS

gingersnaps

blondies

watermelon

BREAKFASTS

oatmeal

pancakes

bacon

cereal

eggs

LUNCHES

dinner leftovers

tuna sandwiches

ski house pannini sandwiches (cambazola, prosciutto, pear, arugula)

salami

sardines

crackers

baguettes

fruit

quesadillas

We'll take two coolers: the fridge and the freezer, the latter of which will be packed with dry ice. Honestly, I'm not trying to make things more complicated than they need to be, but I want to spend my vacation relaxing, hiking, etc., not grocery shopping. But I haven't done my final shop yet, and I'm open to suggestions. Any good camping menus out there?

My husband is absolutelypositively going on vacation

My husband works with a bunch or workaholics who are a little shaky on the concept of recreation. They work late; they work weekends; they rarely go anywhere. They don't have young children, do volunteer work, or do much of anything besides go to work.

We're about to leave on a two and a half week vacation. He's been telling them this for ages, but I'm not totally sure they believe him.

We're hoping this addition to his vehicle for the next week will help.

Also, it's so damned heavy, I don't want to have to help him hoist it up there one more time than I absolutely have to. Here is my contribution to the trip:

Wheels for the battleship.

I will return them with the canoe to a friend who has assured me I will henceforth be granted canoe loans for life.

Advice sought: Jr. foot funk

Most days Sophie wears these cute and lovely L.L. Bean shoes to school or camp. They look smart, are comfortable, stay on when she runs, and hold up to wading in and out of the creek that runs through the school property (their main piece of playground equipment in warmer weather).

The problem: THE SMELL. Worse than a pair of stinky Tevas. After a few days of wear without socks (best for creek wading), we can hardly keep them in the house any longer. It smells like something died. The other day she took them off in the car, and I almost drove off the road. And it seems to be getting worse. . . .

What to do? They go through the wash well, and the problem is solved for a short time. What I'm wondering is is there is any way to extend the period before which they start to reek again. Can I spray Lysol in them? Febreeze? I'm not excited about either of those substances against her skin. Can I dump baking soda in them? Do they make children's Odor Eaters?? I'm worried about our upcoming camping trip where we will be without a washing machine for two weeks.

In which we go to an opera cast partyand some old bag is rude to my child

The other day when Sophie reported to her opera performance (never, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I'd be shrieking at my daughter "You need to go to bed NOW!! You have OPERA tomorrow!!!"), I was handed this pretty card. "Lovely," I thought. "The American Ring . . . Half Dome. Very nice. We'll add it to the opera folder."

However, my fellow stage mom pointed out that it was an invitation.

Heaven help us: The child supernumeraries and their parents were invited to a cast party following Saturday's matinee performance. The party would take place in the Opera Cafe, just off the basement of the Opera House. Fine, but I was worried by the small print:

The cast party is an exclusive benefit for donors at the Principal Patron and above giving levels.

If you're a mom, does that set off warning bells or what? But my friend insisted "Our children are well behaved! And they wouldn't have given us an invitation if they didn't want the children to come." I still wasn't convince this wasn't someone's idea of a sick joke, but I agreed any way.

But it was mostly fine. The children enjoyed trying to recognize the principals out of costume and makeup and ask them to autograph programs.

Here is Sophie chatting up Donald Runnicles, the opera's music director and the conductor of this program ("the maestro!!" she keeps reminding me).

I enjoyed touring the cafe and finding a photograph of my fantasy husband, the truly-fabulous-in-every-way Thomas Hampson.

After a while, we settled down with our cheese cubes, strawberries, and glasses of wine (such were the refreshments) to hear Donald Runnicles and several members of the cast say a few words. It was here that the fine print came into play. Whereas the remarks were clearly aimed at the donors (thank you thank you for giving us buckets of money), not a single one of whom looked under seventy-five, there was apparently some confusion on the part of the woman seated behind us.

No, she's not in this photo. This is just to give an idea of the demographic.

She seemed to have focused on the word exclusive and mistakenly thought that the event was exclusively for her and her ilk. The daggers shooting out of her eyes in the direction of our table clearly indicated that she did not believe that children belonged at this event. Had she dozed off in the production and failed to notice that there were children in the production and that this was a cast party?

The children didn't notice the glares, but even they could not ignore her ridiculously loud shushing whenever they made the slightest noise such as moving a chair. She in fact made more noise than they did. And what was really a shame is that the kids were truly on their best behavior. We had coached them to wait until a grownup was finished with a conversation before asking for an autograph, to take only three cubes of cheese and two strawberries, to be respectful of the privilege of being at such a fancy adult event.

What was up with this woman? Was it just because she was old and cranky? Suffering from a serious case of over-entitlement? Probably a combination. I restrained myself from having a word with her, reasoning that she had probably just donated six million dollars to the opera and would have my child barred from any future performances if I told her what an ass she was being. I just turned around, looked directly at her to let her know I was aware of the disturbance she was creating, and smiled pleasantly.

But what I would still really like to say to her, hoping sensitive readers and the good people at BlogHerAds will forgive me, is

FUCK YOU

Goodness, I feel positively refreshed. So good to get that out.

Vin de Peche: Something to make

One of my favorite food books is this one by Georgeanne Brennan. She lives half the year in Provence and half the year on a small farm in northern California and is the author of the classic The Glass Pantry: Preserving Seasonal Flavors.


I was lucky enough to take a class from her at Sur la Table on preserving seasonal flavors. I had been pickling and preserving for years, but what she really turned me on to was making infused wines using seasonal ingredients. My Vin d'Orange—made from orange peels roasted until caramelized and then soaked in a mixture of red wine, vodka, sugar, and vanilla bean— has been a hit in our house for years, but I had yet to try any of her springtime recipes.

Her Vin de Peche, made with young peach leaves, sounded divine. Finding said leaves proved difficult. A call to my co-workers turned up an address for a tree near my house, only to find from the owners of the house that it was an apricot tree. I was in an experimental mode and unsure of whether I would find peach leaves, so I decided to use the apricot leaves in the Vin de Peche recipe. I used a dry Riesling, adding vodka, a vanilla bean, and a cinnamon stick. It will be ready to strain and bottle when we return from our Montana trip in late July.


In the meantime, my co-worker (extremely apologetic for missteering me) located what he was sure this time was a peach tree. Sophie and I retrieved leaves this afternoon, and they are now soaking in a Sauvignon Blanc. This batch will be ready for bottling in August.

Here are the two batches, running about a month apart. It will be fun to taste them side by side at the end of summer. And it will be even more fun to open a bottle in the middle of winter to savor a taste of summer past.


If you have a peach tree with fruit not yet ripened, give it a try. Here's the recipe.

VIN DE PECHE

6 cups young peach leaves, picked in early summer before any fruit has ripened, carefully rinsed and dried

5 bottles dry white wine, such as Sauvignon Blanc or a French-style rose

1/2 quart vodka

2 cups granulated sugar

Combine all ingredients in a clean, dry glass jar. Cover and store in a cool, dark place for 45 days, stirring every day for the first week to ten days or until the sugar has dissolved. At the end of the 45 days, strain using a fine-mesh sieve lined with several layers of cheesecloth. Discard the leaves. Bottle and seal. [I like to use sparkling lemonade bottles with a ceramic caged top.]

Store bottles in a cool, dark place. The wine is ready to drink immediately but will keep for a year.

Serve slightly chilled or with ice cubes.

Sophie has a new hair cut

Swimming every day at summer camp had fried the ends of her hair to a crisp. It was not a good look. And I was tired of battling her every morning over combing out the tangles.

This will be better for swimming, better for camping. She can brush it herself. And I think it looks nice with the new glasses she made at camp.