Beautiful article! I loved it all especially the description of the Mad Men episode on The Carousel. I never watched that show and this makes me want to find it and watch it.
A few weeks ago I got to go to a Joni Mitchell concert in the Hollywood Bowl. Joni is now 80. No longer the fresh-faced, beautiful young girl with the crystal clear soprano. She’s been physically compromised by a brain aneurysm and her voice is deep and raspy from a lifetime of smoking and living. When she sang Circle Game and Both Sides Now and thousands of us joined her, I felt something that is not nostalgia but, perhaps, the opposite. It was gravitas. It was a deep knowing that we’re all “captives on the carousel of time”. And there is a power and a privilege in knowing what we know as we age. The losses, the aches, the memories, the joys, and the loves we have known make our unique life journey a beautiful treasure for today and tomorrow.
Music, like the scents abd sounds of the past, is s powerful pull back in time for me. How poignant it must-have been to hear these old songs in voices altered by time.
I saw Joan Baez in concert many times and noticed in the last few shows that she changed the notes and rhythm to suit the aging register of her voice. Beautiful.
I'm 68 and grew up in total chaos and dysfunction in the American South. My mother was a terrible cook and our food, holiday or otherwise, was not great. Enter a beloved aunt, who would pick me up once a week and take me to our local cafeteria, where I could get my absolute favorite, fried okra. Sometimes that was all I ordered -- three servings, LOL. Today, just the smell of fried okra makes me happy. It represents a caring adult, a peaceful meal, and the most delicious food I ever ate.
I once accidentally ate a DOUBLE order of fried okra on the 10 min drive home from town, thinking it was one of the 2 orders I'd made: 1 for driving, 1 for sharing bc there is never too much;
For the little Jewish girl I was in the 1950s, Christmas meant the German candy, cookies, and cakes sold by Jewish refugees in upper Manhattan. Oh the thrill of: pfeffernusse; star- and heart-shaped lebkuchen; foil-wrapped chocolate Santas; and best of all, marzipan fruits, miniature and perfect. When you are little, miniature objects can make you feel grown up. And the flavor of almond paste still says Christmas!, even when in the crust of an autumnal pumpkin pie.
Love all of this, Elena, we used to go to up to 86th street, still remember all of it, especially those little foil-wrapped Santa’s and the scent of the cookies :)
As a kid I had a paper route and one of my stops was a home with a passel of kids, the family was not well off at all. On Saturdays I would have to collect the weekly subscription from each home and use a hand hole punch to mark their ticket paid. Every Saturday the mom would have a piece of toast (you know that almost burn smell) with peanut butter on it for me. Whenever I smell that aroma it takes me back to that time and a sense of generosity.
What a beautiful essay, and beautiful pictures. Holidays really are such wells of big emotions, memories and connections, missing absent loved ones even as we hold the present loved ones close. It feels like a privilege to feel good about it, and I do, I cherish it all, the grief and the joy, the pain and the love.
Among the many foods that take me back to childhood Christmases: my grandfather's fruit bread. My uncle has his original scrap of paper where he'd scrawled, shorthand, his "recipe." We've both recreated it as best we can, and although it's never quite the same, it's still a wonderful act of memorial love to make it every year, and share it with whatever family is at my house for the holidays. We tend to have slices of it for breakfast, toasted with butter or jam. This year, my father is doing much better, health-wise, due to being scrupulously gluten-free and dairy-free, so I am planning some experiments on my grandpa's (my father's father) recipe. The original recipe is a rich brioche-ish bread, made with butter and milk, to say nothing of the yeast and wheat flour... I'm hoping to get something good going with a soda-bread-style loaf enriched with coconut oil, but we shall see!
How redolent! And celery is so under-appreciated. It’ fragrance. reminds me of champagne. But I get a kick, it gives me a boost, I get a frisson from Fennel. Fair warning —if you’re in Whole Foods a whiff of the Madeleines will take you absolutely nowhere.
For me, I always recall the little pickie platters my auntie would put out every Christmas Eve. We were Jewish, but my Uncle's bday is December 24th so we had a good excuse to be festive. My auntie would always put out those little tiny party breads, cheese, pickles, olives, nuts, and lots of good things that we only got once a year like marinated artichoke hearts. And of course Martinelli's sparkling apple cider. My auntie put the "cute" in charcuterie before it was even a thing. Nowadays it is not a party unless I recreate the pickie platters... errrr charcuterie boards...of my youth.
I love this, Gloria! I bought an old relish tray a couple of years ago and I LOVE all the “food groups” you mention for your pickle platter ..err… charcuterie board 😉
I was raised by my LA-born WASP mother, but holidays were usually spent with my South Philly Sicilian relatives, whom I found a bit terrifying. But I always managed to smile through the pain of greeting my aggressive, cheek pinching elders and survive the volume at which they screamed their normal conversations because I knew there would be a silver platter of my great aunt Marie's chocolate sprinkle-flecked cannoli at the end of it all.
Also, everything seemed to be laced with rum. Even for the children.
Every time I encounter one of those miraculous cheese-filled tubes, I find myself both distressed and salivating which, I suppose, is how I react to a lot of things.
Oh you take me skidding back to a superfavorite Sicilian DVD series called Detective Montalbano. Everyone is beautiful or an over the top character, and food is one of the major elements. Montalbano does NOT chit chat when at luncheon. Concentration on the food, please. The most senior rotund commissario is obsessed with cannoli and when they are reverently consumed, everyone is silent and in ecstasy.
It’s a great series and the English captions are very ‘cleaned up’ for the slang they are actually using… 😉 so, fun if you’re learning Italian.
Seeing the old fashioned tvs and clothes and the slightly faded coloring of those kinds of photos are some of my madeleines. Also the smell of chocolate chip cookies, brownies baking snd chop liver snd the smell of Jean Nate perfume which my mother wore all create nostalgic yearnings💕💕💕💕
I love Jolene--and I love this essay! What a wonderful trip to a past NYC. I'm nostalgic for that version of our city...even if I never actually experienced it.
Sari, it’s an absolute pleasure and honor to be here on Oldster as a guest essayist, thank you so much to you and your wonderful readers!
So wonderful to have you here, Jolene! Thank you!! <3
Just LOVED this 🙏💚🌱
Thank you so much, Jo, and Happy Holidays! 💚
Absolutely beautiful essay, well done, Jolene, I shed a tear.
Thank you so much, Natasha!
Beautiful article! I loved it all especially the description of the Mad Men episode on The Carousel. I never watched that show and this makes me want to find it and watch it.
A few weeks ago I got to go to a Joni Mitchell concert in the Hollywood Bowl. Joni is now 80. No longer the fresh-faced, beautiful young girl with the crystal clear soprano. She’s been physically compromised by a brain aneurysm and her voice is deep and raspy from a lifetime of smoking and living. When she sang Circle Game and Both Sides Now and thousands of us joined her, I felt something that is not nostalgia but, perhaps, the opposite. It was gravitas. It was a deep knowing that we’re all “captives on the carousel of time”. And there is a power and a privilege in knowing what we know as we age. The losses, the aches, the memories, the joys, and the loves we have known make our unique life journey a beautiful treasure for today and tomorrow.
Must have been so great to see Joni at the Hollywood Bowl! I'm envious.
Music, like the scents abd sounds of the past, is s powerful pull back in time for me. How poignant it must-have been to hear these old songs in voices altered by time.
Yes, 100%
I saw Joan Baez in concert many times and noticed in the last few shows that she changed the notes and rhythm to suit the aging register of her voice. Beautiful.
❤️
What an experience, Susan. (And I think you’ll enjoy Mad Men :)
"The holidays, of course, are the Olympics of nostalgia." That line captures EVERYTHING.
YES!
Thank you, Lisa!
I'm 68 and grew up in total chaos and dysfunction in the American South. My mother was a terrible cook and our food, holiday or otherwise, was not great. Enter a beloved aunt, who would pick me up once a week and take me to our local cafeteria, where I could get my absolute favorite, fried okra. Sometimes that was all I ordered -- three servings, LOL. Today, just the smell of fried okra makes me happy. It represents a caring adult, a peaceful meal, and the most delicious food I ever ate.
Sweet.
I once accidentally ate a DOUBLE order of fried okra on the 10 min drive home from town, thinking it was one of the 2 orders I'd made: 1 for driving, 1 for sharing bc there is never too much;
Okra is The Best
What a beautiful description, Bette, and touching tribute to your beloved Aunt.
For the little Jewish girl I was in the 1950s, Christmas meant the German candy, cookies, and cakes sold by Jewish refugees in upper Manhattan. Oh the thrill of: pfeffernusse; star- and heart-shaped lebkuchen; foil-wrapped chocolate Santas; and best of all, marzipan fruits, miniature and perfect. When you are little, miniature objects can make you feel grown up. And the flavor of almond paste still says Christmas!, even when in the crust of an autumnal pumpkin pie.
Love all of this, Elena, we used to go to up to 86th street, still remember all of it, especially those little foil-wrapped Santa’s and the scent of the cookies :)
Was that EAST 86th? One window featured rather large pink marzipan pigs, with (can this be?) a gold-wrapped coin tucked in its tush.
Yes, E 86th! The places I remember most were a big store called Bremen House and Glaser’s Bakery!
"Feast of the one fish"!! I will remember that some Christmas Eve when I am too tired for more. Sometimes one fish is enough.
It was kind of perfect!
😂
Great article, thank you!
As a kid I had a paper route and one of my stops was a home with a passel of kids, the family was not well off at all. On Saturdays I would have to collect the weekly subscription from each home and use a hand hole punch to mark their ticket paid. Every Saturday the mom would have a piece of toast (you know that almost burn smell) with peanut butter on it for me. Whenever I smell that aroma it takes me back to that time and a sense of generosity.
This is such a sweet story, thank you so much for sharing it!
What a beautiful essay, and beautiful pictures. Holidays really are such wells of big emotions, memories and connections, missing absent loved ones even as we hold the present loved ones close. It feels like a privilege to feel good about it, and I do, I cherish it all, the grief and the joy, the pain and the love.
Among the many foods that take me back to childhood Christmases: my grandfather's fruit bread. My uncle has his original scrap of paper where he'd scrawled, shorthand, his "recipe." We've both recreated it as best we can, and although it's never quite the same, it's still a wonderful act of memorial love to make it every year, and share it with whatever family is at my house for the holidays. We tend to have slices of it for breakfast, toasted with butter or jam. This year, my father is doing much better, health-wise, due to being scrupulously gluten-free and dairy-free, so I am planning some experiments on my grandpa's (my father's father) recipe. The original recipe is a rich brioche-ish bread, made with butter and milk, to say nothing of the yeast and wheat flour... I'm hoping to get something good going with a soda-bread-style loaf enriched with coconut oil, but we shall see!
Oh, nice. I have celiac so I appreciate your plans for experimentation with that recipe!
“A wonderful act of memorial love to make it every year” Beautiful! And thank you for your kind words :)
How redolent! And celery is so under-appreciated. It’ fragrance. reminds me of champagne. But I get a kick, it gives me a boost, I get a frisson from Fennel. Fair warning —if you’re in Whole Foods a whiff of the Madeleines will take you absolutely nowhere.
I love Fennel, too, Irwin! (And the word “frisson” :)
Much appreciated Jolene. Obviously me too. Just received an Oldster rejection. :( maybe what was missing was chiffonade of fennel? 🤷🏽
For me, I always recall the little pickie platters my auntie would put out every Christmas Eve. We were Jewish, but my Uncle's bday is December 24th so we had a good excuse to be festive. My auntie would always put out those little tiny party breads, cheese, pickles, olives, nuts, and lots of good things that we only got once a year like marinated artichoke hearts. And of course Martinelli's sparkling apple cider. My auntie put the "cute" in charcuterie before it was even a thing. Nowadays it is not a party unless I recreate the pickie platters... errrr charcuterie boards...of my youth.
YES to the Martinelli’s. Look for the pear flavor if you can. 🍐Nirvana!
It’s time to hit the fridge for a ‘girl dinner’ of all the other things you mentioned. I’ve got all of them, thanks for the prompt. 😋
Nobody reading these is not hungry by now…
I know I am, Ali!
I love this, Gloria! I bought an old relish tray a couple of years ago and I LOVE all the “food groups” you mention for your pickle platter ..err… charcuterie board 😉
A collab between Sari and Jolene is like Simone Biles + Suni Lee to me
OMG, what a compliment. Thank you Leigh. <3
Aww, Leigh, thanks for everything, always!
Jolene Handy's photos could have been mine! Except, that is, for the Christmas tree, which my parents forbade because what would the neighbors say.
😂 Thank you, Elena!
For me, it's Easter cannoli.
I was raised by my LA-born WASP mother, but holidays were usually spent with my South Philly Sicilian relatives, whom I found a bit terrifying. But I always managed to smile through the pain of greeting my aggressive, cheek pinching elders and survive the volume at which they screamed their normal conversations because I knew there would be a silver platter of my great aunt Marie's chocolate sprinkle-flecked cannoli at the end of it all.
Also, everything seemed to be laced with rum. Even for the children.
Every time I encounter one of those miraculous cheese-filled tubes, I find myself both distressed and salivating which, I suppose, is how I react to a lot of things.
Oh you take me skidding back to a superfavorite Sicilian DVD series called Detective Montalbano. Everyone is beautiful or an over the top character, and food is one of the major elements. Montalbano does NOT chit chat when at luncheon. Concentration on the food, please. The most senior rotund commissario is obsessed with cannoli and when they are reverently consumed, everyone is silent and in ecstasy.
It’s a great series and the English captions are very ‘cleaned up’ for the slang they are actually using… 😉 so, fun if you’re learning Italian.
I’m going to look for it, thank you, Ali!
I need a whole Spatchcock post of this, Michael:)
Yum.
Seeing the old fashioned tvs and clothes and the slightly faded coloring of those kinds of photos are some of my madeleines. Also the smell of chocolate chip cookies, brownies baking snd chop liver snd the smell of Jean Nate perfume which my mother wore all create nostalgic yearnings💕💕💕💕
Omg, Jean Nate, you really just took me back, Karen! Have wonderful holidays!
I love Jolene--and I love this essay! What a wonderful trip to a past NYC. I'm nostalgic for that version of our city...even if I never actually experienced it.
<3
Aww, thank you, Jillian, we need an actual Time Machine! xx
And the seasons, they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return, we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
All life is a circle. A game as our lovely Joni says. Amen.