POWER OF THE NAME

Chaco Names EVERYTHING

     Today is the feast of St. Barbara, for which my mother named me, and in some cultures you celebrate your name day, just as you celebrate your birthday. 
    This is, for me, a strange dilemma, because my mother died on the feast of St. Barbara, and she took my identity with her.  
     Warning: This is no metaphor. I’m not saying I had to struggle to find myself in the aftermath of her death and so on.  I mean that because my mother died on my name day, and was buried on my birthday, I forgot to renew my license, and when I finally went to DMV to do so, I was told I couldn’t renew it because there was a thirty year old error on my social security card.  Yes.  And I couldn’t get a new card because my license was expired.  And I couldn’t get a license because . . . .     You get the idea.  It’s a particular kind of hell.       The maelstrom of paper pushing confusion ultimately required a congressman, a lawyer, and some determined effort on my part to clear it up. You can read about all that in my nonfiction book, Saving Eagle Mitch. All I want to say here is that I’m convinced the entire debacle was my mother’s doing.  She was a teacher, and she was trying to teach me a few things about claiming your own identity, about naming yourself, about how to make difficult systems cooperate. These were all skills she was adept at, and as it turned out, skills I’d need to save a war-wounded eagle.    So today I’m sending a thank you to my mother for the lesson, and for the name. She gave it, but I chose it, and continue to do so, because it suits me to my bones.    Here’s why:         In Catholic terms, Barbara is patron saint of artillery, explosives, and lightning, still honored even though she was ousted by Pope Paul VI because of doubts about the historicity of her legend. But she existed long before any popes wore a mitre.  In pre-christian terms she was the "Barbarian" goddess of Round Mountain, near Pozuoli, one of the entrances to the underground pagan paradise of Fairyland, where the heathen dead dwelt and, according to the church, "spent their time in dancing and lechery." This site also had a tower on its summit, to attract lightning.      For those who know me, this explains a great deal. It takes the power of lightning and the joy of dancing to write a character like Jaguar Addams .  It takes someone who’s willing to be ousted by the larger institutions to save an eagle.   
     And now, let me ask you this:  Do you know the power of your own name?  Where did it come from?  Why do you carry it?  For writers, and for ancient heathen folk, naming was the ultimate power, and that ‘magic’ has a lot of truth in it.  What we can’t name often controls us.  What we can name we own.   
    So if you don’t know why you carry your name, you should.  And if you don’t like it, you should cast it away and choose a new one.  Rename yourself.  As poet Wendell Berry says, Practice resurrection.    

     You can find out more about what happens in my name with Jaguar Addams at Wildside Books.  And more about the rest of my naming power on Amazon

    CELEBRATION FOOD (Ricotta Fritters)

     For your name day or your birthday, something special should happen with food, and this recipe is all that.  Try it, and you might rename Ricotta as a sweet.

Happy Little FrittersIngredientsOil for frying¾ cup unbleached all-purpose flour
2 tsp. baking powder
¼ tsp. salt
2 large eggs1 cup whole milk ricotta cheese, drained in cheesecloth over a bowl overnight if wet2 Tbsp. sugar
1 tsp. vanilla
1 -2 tbsp confectioners sugar and 1 tbsp cocoa for dusting
 Prepare a good thickness of paper towels and/or brown paper for draining your hot fritters.  If you want to use birthday wrapping paper, I've got no objections. Or last week's funny papers, which is how we wrap presents in my house.

 Preheat vegetable or canola oil in a large (14”) skillet. While the oil is finding its lightning, and with any luck before it gets explosive, stir together flour, baking powder, salt, in a medium size mixing bowl and set aside. If you like, you can add cinnamon or nutmeg, or orange rind, or even small chocolate chips to this because you know the rule:  PLAY WITH YOUR FOOD!

 Break two eggs into another medium size mixing bowl. While you do this, make explosive noise (P-chew, P-chaw)  Beat eggs as vigorously as if you're telling the Pope what to do.  Add the ricotta, sugar, and vanilla.  Combine with a whisk until mixture is smooth.  

Add dry ingredients to the egg and cheese mixture. Blend only until the flour has been incorporated, and do not overmix because if you do, Barbara WILL send lightning. When the oil is hot enough to make artillery sounds if you drop something into it, drop batter by tablespoons or a small ice cream scoop (about 1½ Tbsp.) into the skillet. Make up to 6 fritters at a time, taking care not to overcrowd the skillet.

Cook one side until golden, then turn the fritter to brown the other side. Fritters take about 3-4 minutes to cook.

 Remove the happy little fritters from the oil  and transfer them to the paper to drain and consider their own names. When they're still warm and all confident about who they are and why, sprinkle liberally with powdered sugar and cocoa.
 
Makes 16-24 fritters