Wagon Circling: Great for Pioneers!

E. Boyer

Classic displays of Piedmont Pollyanna’ism are ever present.   At times I rather like it...complete denial no matter what.  I do it with what  I refer to as “vacation food.”  The things I eat while on vacation don’t really count.  It’s as though I never ate them.  Eight hundred calorie cupcakes at 11:00 p.m. are of absolutely no consequence.  A “sharing size” bag of peanut M&M’s which I chose not to share and instead enjoyed alone at midnight while in bed reading the Times, is wiped clean from the food diary once the vacation is over.  So, indeed I understand the inner-machinations of denial.  And just like eating nine million calories before bed can result in a ghastly outcome, so too can denial about other things.  

Baloney, is how, I believe, one contributor described it when referring to reports of troubling times for Piedmont high-schoolers.  I assume this was the "nonsense" variety as opposed to Oscar-Mayer's version.  A long time ago and early on in my children’s high school careers I learned that any success they might have or Pleasantville’ish euphoria they might experience could be lost in a moment.  I never took any of it for granted and never assumed it was a guarantee.  I enjoyed it with them while it was there, but knew that my children were just as susceptible to failure, pain, embarrassment and tragedy as any other child.  I breathe a heavy sigh of relief when I see my children today as lovely, healthy and productive adults.  I know that it could easily have gone the other way and I’m genuinely grateful that they grew into their current, full-grown versions.  Believe me, it was nip and tuck for a couple of them!  Although I’m a devoted fan of nonsense, I do wonder about the sagacity of wrapping such broad topics as “the high school experience” in a blanket of it. One person’s nonsense is another person’s genuinely troubling time.  While it’s true that some students sail through high school with nary a bump in the road and un-touched by unpleasantries, many children struggle and have a very difficult and often terrible time.  I believe we should applaud the children and parents who get through the high school years unscathed.  It’s good and challenging work.  But, I also believe that we should respect that others may not be so lucky.  Saying over and over again that something is a certain way does not magically make it true across the board.

According to...well...just about about every news station and publication from here to Timbuktu, Piedmont high school does have a few troubling spots.  While it may be true that this latest development is an old occurrence cloaked in a new name, it’s still grossly indecorous and I venture to say that a good many young women, having been victimized, publicized and then cast aside like an old garment, are embarrassed, hurt...or worse.  I also feel badly for the ill-mannered and ill-advised male students who participated. Imagine beginning your young adulthood believing that this was the right course for becoming the man you one day hope to be.  A very low place from which to begin.  

I suspect this latest episode will be met with much of the the typical Piedmont wagon-circling...”Oh, that’s ridiculous.”   “You can’t punish them..it’s their Senior year!”  “Making an issue of this will affect their college applications!”  And, of course, we’ll hear from more than one of the wink-n-nod crowd that  “Boys will be boys!”  Well, sometimes, as it turns out,  it’s more like “boys will be jack-asses” and if the grown-ups in their lives don’t soon explain right from wrong and demand better in this regard, those boys may result in very unappealing versions of men. Broken-down ex-athletes, with boring stories of their high school glory days, alone and balding, on the couch with a 12 pack of Schlitz, watching t.v., rubbing their big fat bellies and wondering what it would be like to have a meaningful relationship with a woman. Not pretty.  

Reel ‘em in, folks.  Have a chat with your boys.  And your girls.  All kids are good and worthwhile, but could often use tutoring in things other than academics.   Circling the wagon may have been a good defense tactic for the pioneers, but not very effective with badly behaved teenagers.    Just wondering...has anyone considered actual consequences?   Just a thought.      

Maya Angelou wrote that “..all god’s children need traveling shoes.”   I couldn't agree more.  Time to lace ‘em up... tight!      

Kiss the Cook!

E. Boyer

“..Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels”  A celebrity,whose name escapes me, said that.  Two things we know..1) this was a very thin celebrity and 2) she clearly never had Josie Giovanetti’s gorgonzola gnocchi.

She was Mrs. Giovanetti..Carla’s mom, but the place..that comforting harbor of love and garlic commonly referred to was “Josie’s kitchen.”  A place where absolutely nothing was new..everything had the patina of decades of beautiful sauces embedded in it’s copper or cast iron soul. No matter how dire your situation, being in her kitchen would set things right.

Her bolognese would get you back on your feet, her pasta fagiole would calm your nerves and her gorgonzola gnocchi with homemade sausage would part the clouds and restore your faith in mankind.  Lou Pepitone swore and maintains to this day that he once heard angels sing in Josie’s kitchen when he took a fork-full of those beloved gorgonzola gnocchi.  It may be worth noting that Lou was also a regular at The Cloverleaf Bar just down the street and the “angel episode” occurred on the heels of bartender, Kip MacAuliffe’s 76th birthday celebration which typically turned into two days of all the green beer you could drink for $5.  Still, far be it from me to dispute the celestial powers of Josie Giovanetti’s beloved gnocchi.  A part of everyone from the neighborhood was squarely rooted in that that lovely woman’s refuge we called a kitchen.  It was where we learned about grapes for wine, to “fold” not mix, that sometimes good food takes a long time to make..but not always..a tomato and bread salad was “as good as anything.”  She was from Italy.  “Abruzzo..the best part”  she would say.  She lived a life full of cheese and flour, olive oil and garlic, tiny little cups of espresso and people, people and more people..she was the embodiment of humor and kindness. Christmas, in her kitchen, was preceded by a month of Pizzelle production.  A tin of those licorice flavored gems were prized and coveted.  It wasn’t unusual to see a young child, five or six years old, at Josie’s table with a cafe au lait and a plate of the delicate cookies..oblivious to the notion that coffee was reserved for adults.  La dolce vita.. this was the only way to enjoy the heavenly crisps!

I have to chuckle when I see all the trendy restaurants in the area tout “salume” and “artisnal bread and cheese.” There was a time when these were everyday, after-school snacks for Italian home cooks.  A day without a little pecorino and sopressata was like a day without sunshine!  I haven’t seen a homemade pizelle in over a decade even though I’ve seen lots of fancy gadgets that claim to make the job easier.  It’s funny how, the more sophisticated the kitchen becomes, the less cooking we seem to do in it!   I wonder if it’s because we know we’ll never do it as well as the Josie Giovanettis of the world.  Or, maybe it’s because we traded in our aprons for other endeavors.   Who knows?  The only thing I really know with certainty is that whoever said “Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels” never had Josie Giovanetti’s gorgonzola gnocchi with homemade sausage.  
  
Kiss the cook, guys!  Those memorable meals pack an emotional wallop...