Family History Part II

Date Pie and the Question of Ephemera

e·phem·er·a      əˈfem(ə)rə/ , noun

1. things that exist or are used or enjoyed for only a short time.

   • items of collectible memorabilia, typically written or printed ones, that were originally expected to have only short-term usefulness or popularity.

Mecca, Thermal, La Quinta, Thousand Palms.  Date farms and shops have dotted the desert highways in and around the Coachella Valley since the early 1920's, the towns' names indicating the extremes of this environment (survival, beauty, intense heat, and its particular crop - date palms).  I particularly love the name La Quinta - meaning "The Fifth" - the fifth what?  By some accounts, it used to mean a stop along the way after a long journey.  So, these dates, these towns, became intermittent oases of welcome and nourishment in what had been a huge, largely uninhabitable stretch of the Coachella Valley. 

Dates too are a staple of various Middle Eastern countries whose climates echo our own deserts' intensity. These  sweet nuggets have found their way into multiple home cooks' repertoires including my stepmom Margie's Date Pie. Her recipe stands out to me as one that was far removed from the extremes of its origin.  Instead, it was a well loved Thanksgiving alternative to pumpkin pie.  Less sweet, more dense in texture, with an incredibly complex set of flavors as nearly all of its essence is extracted from this sturdy little miracle fruit.  It became one of the most anticipated winter desserts, usually served after a family camping trip to Joshua Tree.  

Now the question of ephemera. Patric Kuh, restaurant critic for Los Angeles Magazine, described drawing inspiration for his recent publication, Finding the Flavors We Lost, from the Huntington Library's recently acquired  Anne Cranston American Regional and Charitable Cookbook Collection. (Yes there is such a collection-4,400 items.  Be still my beating heart!). While the various ingredients, tastes, food making techniques have changed- the Jello mold dulled by  sour cream or marshmallow fluff and speckled with canned fruit as a comical example-the Cranston collection holds more tenacious truths. In a recent lecture at the Huntington, Kuh described Ms. Cranston's capacity to find value in rapidly written directions on the backs of bank statements, envelopes, and scribbled-over pages of books, as "a testament to what we don't throw away."  And so, are these many scraps and formerly loved flavors ephemera, or part of a long and sometimes delicious cultural history? 

" I think of recipes in a different way...they are signs of curiosity, sales tools, ways of belonging, a means of organization...great historical markers..."

 Patric Kuh

I so prefer the poetry of his definition. Although the individual card, envelope, and plastic comb bound book, often are considered ephemera, their impact on the meaning of these larger ideas of culture remain. For your poetic and eating enjoyment, alongside the Date Pie Recipe, aka way of belonging, sales tool, and historical marker, I include the Ma'amoul Cookie, aka great historical marker, a way of belonging and for me a sign of curiosity-a Lebanese date filled dessert eaten at Ramadan through Eid, and at Easter.  Time to try something new, Easter (April 16) and Ramadan (May 26-June 25) are upon us! 

Recipe for Ma'amoul and its creator, Ashkgyn

Do you have a food making or eating experience that goes well beyond a series of directions? 

Family History Part I

During the lull between the winter holidays and New Years, I used the quiet to unpack some of my  recipe collections.  The one that stopped me in my tracks was a small 3x5 scotch plaid patterned box holding my dad and stepmother's well used recipe cards.  My dad's almost illegible handwriting, a folded page of carefully typed Tuna Pancake instructions -- the food stains evidencing the popularity of this dish.  Despite sounding horrible, the pancakes (or tortillas) were quite delicious. Each recipe carried with it a memory more specific than the ingredients.  

Like a cultural anthropologist on steroids, I began to dissect these cards noticing the common use of rich, but pedestrian ingredients.  Most dishes were casseroles, stews and soups requiring simple pantry ingredients and slow cooking. The names of these dishes evoke a different time, Western Meal in One, Rumanian Cabbage Soup, Swedish Meatballs.  The reference to "foreign" foods (Rumanian and Swedish)  echo the very different demographics of Los Angeles at that time.  Based on the 1960 census, we were a county of about 6 million people of which more than 5 million were white, largely suburban, and "middle class."  Our understanding of authentic, culturally diverse eating was constrained by our inexperience, access and naiveté.  Descriptors like the "Far East" referenced a framing of our known experience as central both geographically and psychically.   

"Everybody is ethnic though nobody will call a French restaurant that. But those guys are as ethnic as anybody else.”  Jonathan Gold

These eating "adventures" were just a faint echo of the food and eating revolution that was to come.  We, lucky ones who now live in Los Angeles County, are part of 10 million. Latinos represent nearly 50%, followed by whites, and then ethnicities whose descriptions reference a growing understanding of identity, culture and community.  With this distinctiveness and connection comes a brilliant authenticity in food ingredients, sources, and evolving tastes.  

Artist plate by Steve Wong.

For your eating pleasure and dive into Los Angeles food history here is the original Tuna Pancake recipe circa 1960.  As a side by side, I include the ever brilliant home cook Mario Rodriguez' queso fundido.  While ingredients, heat level, and cultures seem to have little in common, they actually are neatly paired by the great trifecta of dairy, protein, and starch underscoring our enduring love of comfort food.  Both fill the bill beautifully.  Enjoy! 

Click here for Tuna Pancakes and Queso Fundido

Urban Foraging 101

A Joyful Welcome...

The idea of beginning a shared journal of food and community exploration can seem at this moment in time superfluous.  Even as I write - as if to echo my sentiments an email notification sounds - another alarm bell, another outrage.  

And then I remember, that the essence of health for me is a gathering of community - a celebration of something that honors our heritage, our nourishment, our connection to sensory delights, our varied experiences.  

All of these ideas land firmly in the world of cooking and breaking bread, tortillas, biscuits, naan together.   My experiences with food as entry point to connection began as a child in the Philippines sharing Fiesta day feasts with my neighbors.  The generosity, care, and delight in creating a festive meal cemented my sense of belonging despite my outsider status.  Without effort, I remember cones of spices, dried chilies, dried fish and frogs, the sounds of food hawkers competing with the visual overload.  Now, I only need to travel a few minutes away to a local Latin, Armenian, or Asian market to feel the same sense of delight and wonder.   

 I began documenting my experiences of community through food over a year ago.  I noticed that when asking a store owner, customer, or clerk about the uses of a then unknown food ingredient, they would light up and  barriers would fall away.  These conversations have led to meals created together, teachable moments for me, and yet another reminder that cooking is craft -- a form of mastery that is designed to nourish and engage us individually and communally.  

I welcome you to join me in this exploration...a form of foraging that extends beyond field and forest to my community.  

When drawn in concentric circles from my home, the foraging begins on the gorgeously food-rich Washington Boulevard in Pasadena and moves outward through Pasadena, the San Gabriel Valley, and the east side of Los Angeles.  The journey is purposely honoring of lesser traveled neighborhoods, where the smallness of a store may be easily overlooked, where a recipe has been handed down to us through the generations, and where the ingredients are truly a mystery.  I look forward to our learning together.