Barbara Chepaitis's Blog: http://aliterarylunch.blogspot.com/2015/07/frying-mad.html - Posts Tagged "creativity"
Creative Mothering
CREATIVE MOTHERING
This blog is late, deliberately. I was going to post something for Mother’s Day, and then realized my mother’s ghost would not be pleased.
She didn’t believe in Mother’s Day. She said, with some bitterness, that it was a Hallmark Card conspiracy, one day to relieve the guilt of those who didn’t do anything for their mother’s the rest of the year.
Have I mentioned she was a bit of an outlier? She was. She wouldn’t let us buy her presents or cards, though she would accept gifts of work (Clean your room! Pick up your socks!). We were also allowed to gather flowers from the woods for her, or make cards for her. And thus, she taught us an early lesson in anti-consumerism, in the value of the creative over the value of the economy.
It’s a lesson that stuck with me, in far too many ways. For instance, I never understood why getting a job was more important than writing. My mother worried about that, as well she should, because it was all her fault, as I told her many times.
But on the positive side, I really enjoy it when my husband uses old white packing paper to wrap my presents, drawing strange glyphs on the outside to hint at what’s within. (See picture below) That way, I get both the fun of a present, and the giggles of the guessing game.
I also believe that finding your creative side - whether it’s in a garden, a kitchen, at a keyboard or an easel - is the best way to feed your spirit. The best way to avoid feeling a hole that insists on being filled with useless stuff, mindless consumerism of all kinds. In the play Rent, the characters say that peace isn’t the opposite of war. The opposite of war is creativity. The same is true, I think, of greed.
Now, all this is not to say that I don’t enjoy getting bought presents, even on Mother’s Day. As a December birthday girl, I take any presents I can get. And I’ll admit that when my son sent me the BEST truffles in the world (called ‘No Chewing allowed), I was pretty damn pleased.
But he also sent me the story he just wrote, which made me weep in the best possible way because his writing (Oh, God help me! I raised a writer!) is such a reflection of his careful and clear-seeing soul. And this story happened to be about food, and death, and love:
The best foods aren’t necessarily the ones that take the longest to prepare. She knows this in her brain. But in her heart and her stomach, she knows that “T-I-M-E” time is a very special ingredient. “There’s a flavor to time,” Mike used to say to her. “It’s a different flavor in nearly every dish it’s a part of, but it’s there, you can taste it. And if it’s not there, you know. You know like you would know if someone came through that door tomorrow and told you he was Michael James Wallace. Even if he looked like me and sounded like me and smelled like me - you would know it wasn’t me. It’s a personal flavor, time. It changes the DNA of a dish.”
If your son, who was raised in a variety of very difficult circumstances, can write something like that, you know he was born with something fine and shiny in his spirit. And you can eat your truffles in peace and joy.
So here’s to my son, the kid who became an adult capable of bringing me good tears and laughter. The kid who made it possible for me to get presents in May. And here’s to my mother, who taught me to pass on to my child the primacy of the creative. Right now, I feel truly blessed by both.
Here’s a recipe that may be the epitome of creative triumph. It was made with ground venison given to me as a gift by a hunter friend, and honestly, I had no idea what I was doing at the time, but it came out really good. So give it a try, but keep in mind that the measurements are inexact because I was making my own card and coloring outside the lines. Amend as you like because you know the rules. PLAY WITH YOUR FOOD!
If you’d like to find out more about my writing, you can check out my website, wildreads.com, or you can find me on Facebook.
VENISON TERRINE
About a pound of ground venison
Half a pint of good dark rum
Thinly sliced onion
1 mango
6 slices of bacon
About a quarter cup of pancetta, sauteed golden brown
Salt and pepper
A teaspoon of thyme
1 egg
Soak the venison in the dark rum overnight. (You can use all of it, or save some to make yourself a Dark and Stormy - dark rum and ginger beer, the official drink of my writer’s MFA cohort.)
In the morning,drain the excess liquid. Brown your pancetta over medium heat until golden brown and add it to the venison. Also add salt and pepper, the thyme and the egg. (If you want, you can add heat with tabasco, or cayenne pepper).
Mush it all together and press it into a firm, firm block, like a small brick. Slice the brick into three layers and separate them.
Using a mandolin or some really good knife skills, make some really thin onion slices - using about a quarter of the onion. Peel your mango and also make really thin slices of that - About 6 to 10.
Place a layer of onion slices and then a layer of mango slices over the first venison brick layer. Pack the second venison layer on top, making sure it holds together. Add another layer of mango and onion to the top of that layer. Put the third venison layer on top and pack it down. (You see? You’re building something here.)
Put a final layer of onion and mango on top of your brick. Working carefully, wrap the strips of bacon around the entire brick.
Put it in an oven (I used my small convection toaster oven) and cook it at 350 degrees for about an hour.
Let it come to room temperature and serve, with love and gratitude for all good gifts.
This blog is late, deliberately. I was going to post something for Mother’s Day, and then realized my mother’s ghost would not be pleased.
She didn’t believe in Mother’s Day. She said, with some bitterness, that it was a Hallmark Card conspiracy, one day to relieve the guilt of those who didn’t do anything for their mother’s the rest of the year.
Have I mentioned she was a bit of an outlier? She was. She wouldn’t let us buy her presents or cards, though she would accept gifts of work (Clean your room! Pick up your socks!). We were also allowed to gather flowers from the woods for her, or make cards for her. And thus, she taught us an early lesson in anti-consumerism, in the value of the creative over the value of the economy.
It’s a lesson that stuck with me, in far too many ways. For instance, I never understood why getting a job was more important than writing. My mother worried about that, as well she should, because it was all her fault, as I told her many times.
But on the positive side, I really enjoy it when my husband uses old white packing paper to wrap my presents, drawing strange glyphs on the outside to hint at what’s within. (See picture below) That way, I get both the fun of a present, and the giggles of the guessing game.
I also believe that finding your creative side - whether it’s in a garden, a kitchen, at a keyboard or an easel - is the best way to feed your spirit. The best way to avoid feeling a hole that insists on being filled with useless stuff, mindless consumerism of all kinds. In the play Rent, the characters say that peace isn’t the opposite of war. The opposite of war is creativity. The same is true, I think, of greed.
Now, all this is not to say that I don’t enjoy getting bought presents, even on Mother’s Day. As a December birthday girl, I take any presents I can get. And I’ll admit that when my son sent me the BEST truffles in the world (called ‘No Chewing allowed), I was pretty damn pleased.
But he also sent me the story he just wrote, which made me weep in the best possible way because his writing (Oh, God help me! I raised a writer!) is such a reflection of his careful and clear-seeing soul. And this story happened to be about food, and death, and love:
The best foods aren’t necessarily the ones that take the longest to prepare. She knows this in her brain. But in her heart and her stomach, she knows that “T-I-M-E” time is a very special ingredient. “There’s a flavor to time,” Mike used to say to her. “It’s a different flavor in nearly every dish it’s a part of, but it’s there, you can taste it. And if it’s not there, you know. You know like you would know if someone came through that door tomorrow and told you he was Michael James Wallace. Even if he looked like me and sounded like me and smelled like me - you would know it wasn’t me. It’s a personal flavor, time. It changes the DNA of a dish.”
If your son, who was raised in a variety of very difficult circumstances, can write something like that, you know he was born with something fine and shiny in his spirit. And you can eat your truffles in peace and joy.
So here’s to my son, the kid who became an adult capable of bringing me good tears and laughter. The kid who made it possible for me to get presents in May. And here’s to my mother, who taught me to pass on to my child the primacy of the creative. Right now, I feel truly blessed by both.
Here’s a recipe that may be the epitome of creative triumph. It was made with ground venison given to me as a gift by a hunter friend, and honestly, I had no idea what I was doing at the time, but it came out really good. So give it a try, but keep in mind that the measurements are inexact because I was making my own card and coloring outside the lines. Amend as you like because you know the rules. PLAY WITH YOUR FOOD!
If you’d like to find out more about my writing, you can check out my website, wildreads.com, or you can find me on Facebook.
VENISON TERRINE
About a pound of ground venison
Half a pint of good dark rum
Thinly sliced onion
1 mango
6 slices of bacon
About a quarter cup of pancetta, sauteed golden brown
Salt and pepper
A teaspoon of thyme
1 egg
Soak the venison in the dark rum overnight. (You can use all of it, or save some to make yourself a Dark and Stormy - dark rum and ginger beer, the official drink of my writer’s MFA cohort.)
In the morning,drain the excess liquid. Brown your pancetta over medium heat until golden brown and add it to the venison. Also add salt and pepper, the thyme and the egg. (If you want, you can add heat with tabasco, or cayenne pepper).
Mush it all together and press it into a firm, firm block, like a small brick. Slice the brick into three layers and separate them.
Using a mandolin or some really good knife skills, make some really thin onion slices - using about a quarter of the onion. Peel your mango and also make really thin slices of that - About 6 to 10.
Place a layer of onion slices and then a layer of mango slices over the first venison brick layer. Pack the second venison layer on top, making sure it holds together. Add another layer of mango and onion to the top of that layer. Put the third venison layer on top and pack it down. (You see? You’re building something here.)
Put a final layer of onion and mango on top of your brick. Working carefully, wrap the strips of bacon around the entire brick.
Put it in an oven (I used my small convection toaster oven) and cook it at 350 degrees for about an hour.
Let it come to room temperature and serve, with love and gratitude for all good gifts.
