Vintage cars for the 4th

It’s the 4th of July in the US, celebrating our independence from the British.  In Britain and the Netherlands it’s a day like any other day.  I’m going to a party thrown by a few friends tonight, ‘dogs and beers hopefully.  Not much likelihood of traditional fireworks, so I’ll toss in some traditional motor cars instead.

These were on show at the monthly Car Meet outside the Royal Oak in June, really a nice evening shared with good friends.  And, yes, the cars are mostly British.  But the BIG motorcar is such an American classic that it’s worth a few shots.

 

Amusingly, American cars came up at dinner, and the Italians present dismissed them as “underpowered mopeds”.  They said that the RPMs never got high enough, the cars downshifted before accelerating, and they were generally stately saloon vehicles as opposed to true road machines.

‘live and learn…

Be sure to check out 13 landscape photos for the 4th  here as well.

 

 

Explaining Thanksgiving

‘Hope you’re having a wonderful Thanksgiving !, my friend greeted me on Thursday morning.  Then they turned serious.

It’s a religious holiday, right?

“No, a family holiday, actually.  People gather at someone’s house, cook an enormous feast, and share it together.”

We used to all go to my grandfather’s house: he’d have the grinder out early in the morning and we’d all take turns cranking while he put bread, egg, vegetables, turkey bits in to be minced into the dressing.  A sign of maturity was being allowed to feed things into the hopper without having adults fret about whether fingers would join the giblets.

We’ve since lost the trick of making stuffing using that recipe – it’s been years since someone could get it to come out right.  But we do have a killer cranberry recipe to replace it.

So everyone cooks all morning…and then?

“A glass of wine when the bird goes into the oven, and everyone settles down to watch television while it cooks.  Mostly parades.”

What sort of parades?

“The New York department stores put them on – it involves lots of bands and, well, enormous balloons.  And football.  American football.”

It was a day for getting out the wooden railway tracks and building out across the room, adding cars and Lincoln Log houses, staging complicated wrecks.  It was a day for reading books, playing in the snow, getting reacquainted with cousins.

And always turkey for dinner?

“Always.”

And red candied crabapples and green candied pears, a relish plate with olives and celery.  The turkey, separate plates for white and dark meat, a bowl for the stuffing, another for gravy.  Mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes with marshmallows on top, string beans and mushroom with the crunchy onion things on top.   Cranberries, pumpkin pie, mince pie: Wine, tea, wine, coffee.

And then?

“Actually, the cleaning up was a family event, then sitting around the living room for some conversation or a movie if one was on TV.”

Or, lately, take a nap before heading to stores at midnight to start Christmas shopping.  Don’t ask.

Every Year?

“One way or another.”

It’s a bit of a moveable feast these days, we take I on the road, sometimes check into places with buffet dinners on the coast, occasionally do core elements out of a box and focus on the essentials.

Five years ago, ‘Liam came over to Cambridge for the Expat Thanksgiving organized by Cambridge MA, in the US.  The turkey was wrapped in bacon, there was a lot of wine for 2 pm, lots of patriotic flags around the room.  It looked like there might be dancing.  At 2 pm.

The Vice Chancellor gave a toast saying that “We don’t understand Thanksgiving, we’re not sure that we approve of it, but we know that you miss your families, so try to have a nice Thanksgiving!”

Here, here.

And note that the Pilgrims do, in fact, look a bit Dutch.  There’s a reason.

‘Sounds special.

“Absolutely.”

Fun on the 4th

It’s been years since I was in the US for the 4th of July, so it was fun to join in all of the traditional fun that accompanies the celebration.  Technically, it’s the nation’s birthday, pegged to the adoption of the Declaration of Independence in 1776, declaring the colonists independent of Britain.  A Scottish friend of mine questioned whether it was Britain or just England; a history teacher pointed out that the actual signing of the document wasn’t complete until August 4… whatever.  Since 1777, the day has been celebrated with special dinners, speeches, parades, troop reviews, fireworks, and red white and blue bunting.

In Washington State, picnics and fireworks predominate.  The local Safeway was filled with boxes of beer and steaks overflowing the meat counter; stacks of buns, chips, and condiments crowded the aisles.  Sousa marches played over the store’s speakers.  I remember this as a ‘family and friends’ holiday, a day in the sun to be lazy in the park or to play on the water.

We used to take a sailboat out from the Island Sailing Club where I was a member, cruising up Lake Washington to a secluded beach for a picnic, then back down to anchor off the 520 Bridge for the fireworks.

 

This year, we’re doing picnic and fireworks closer to home, though. My daughter brought her boyfriend by and I wet off to buy some fireworks from the local stand.  These offer ‘safe and sane’ fireworks, mostly small firecrackers, sparklers, and rockets, that complement the big artillery sold at Boom City up on the Tulalip Reservation.  I picked up a few favorites (Roman Candle, bees) and the Turtles and Jack-in-the-boxes that my daughter has always been fond of.

With the holiday set up, the afternoon passed preparing salads and kabobs, the evening competing with the neighbors setting off fireworks in the driveway.  The community events got rolling at about ten pm, large fireworks displays against symphony music in Bellevue and Seattle.  The smaller shows that Woodinville and Redmond used to have over the wineries have disappeared, victim of budget tightening and anti-fireworks activists.  But there were lots of neighborhood fireworks, rockets above the tall cedars in every color imaginable.

Someone asked how it compared to the Maastricht New Year celebration – our neighborhood 4th ended earlier and to had lots less fireworks overall.  The thick smoke that filled streets and squares in Maastricht was also missing.

  

Overall, a nice, relaxed holiday, a lot like I remember.  Now I just need a summer fair to complete the memory.

Sounds in the South

Although the weather has been delightful and the scenery picturesque, I think that the most noticeable difference in coming to the deep South are the noises.

Evan as I write this, the serene quiet of the place is striking.  A few bird calls, an occasional rustle of palmetto fronds in the light breeze, but otherwise silence.

Even the cities have an almost eerie silence.  Walking around the historic centers, reading the plaques and peeking into hidden gardens, the traffic noise, dogs, sirens, street work, conversations, are completely absent.  People are immediately friendly, greeting as they pass on the street or on entering stores, but there’s not the constant rumble of sidewalk conversations and commercial chatter.  Joggers pad by, the occasional tour trolley and taxis, but it’s otherwise pretty contemplative.

The change comes in the evenings, when all manner of grunts, croaks, and rasps fill the swamps and marshes.  Sitting outside the hotel rooms, it’s impossible to pinpoint a source or direction: like a well-crafted symphony hall,the sound just envelops you.

By morning, nothing: just the hiss of ocean waves, quiet murmurs from early risers out for a walk and, distant thumps as trucks replenish the restaurants.

I normally have the buds pretty deep into my ears, but I’ve limited them to the car since I arrived.  The quiet is really infusing my soul this week, its an almost spiritual presence everywhere I‘ve traveled.

A last thought for the holidays

I’m catching up with personal items today as the rain mists across Cambridgeshire.  The shopping is done, banking is caught up, my offices are tidy.

I’ve started updating the Christmas card list, copying addresses from the cards received into the address books.  And starting to wonder if there is still a point.

Christmas cards were a way to keep in touch with friends from school, from old jobs, from family connections.  Each year, I’d send a greeting to about 50 families with an update on what our family was doing, our new contact information, and warm wishes for the season and the new year.  And most of them would write back, maybe with a picture or a newsletter; we all stayed in touch.

But now there’s Facebook.

Many of the people that I send cards to (and probably about 100 more that I didn’t have time or contact details to write) are now Friends whose status and pictures update periodically.  To varying degrees, I know what they’re doing, how to contact them, and exchange the occasional greeting.

So, are Christmas cards redundant?  I’d give them up reluctantly, but the inflow diminishes each year, down to about 20 now, and my enthusiasm for sending cards wanes as well. I would feel guilty sending e-cards, and still send (Dutch) cards to a dozen close friends and immediate family.  But I can forsee a time, several years away, when the tradition draws to a close.

The US Census Bureau says that 1.9 billion Christmas cards are sent each year (Valentines Day is second, with 192 million).  I prefer the opportunity to be in closer, more casual touch with people who remain important in my life.  But I will miss the color and the surprise of the yearly greeting.

Something lost; something gained. On balance…?  It’s a topic to ponder over tea while watching the rain fall over the gardens.

It was a good Thanksgiving

I got things rolling midafternoon: the cranberries had already set and the beans were prepped, so the only bit in doubt was the turkey and the stuffing.

The recipe went together easily, soften the celery and onion in  butter, mix bread cubes, sage, spices, chicken broth…I tossed in an egg because my grandfather always did.  Mash it all together, stuff the split in the breasts, truss lightly with cooking twine.  That got to be a bit of a slippery mess, but I assembled the two breasts with stuffing between and it made a fairly nice presentation.  A toast and then the wait.

I let the oven cool inadvertently, and had the oven rack come loose during one basting, but otherwise the cooking was uneventful.  By early evening, the bird had a nice golden color, was warmed through, and the dressing had some body.  I packed everything up and was off to the Frijns.

They were in the spirit of things: a lovely set table, autumn leaf runner, some wine and candles. They had pictures of Pilgrims, but fortunately nobody had time to dress the part.  (There was a lively debate about whether the Pilgrims look Dutch, British, or Catholic).  The did a wonderful job with potatoes and salad: we substituted tarts for the pumpkin pie.  All in all, it was a lovely and recognizable Thanksgiving feast.

Yes, I took pictures throughout, but got home to find that my Sony stick had corrupted and all of them were lost.  I am heartbroken, but have good memories.

Baking for the holidays

I’m making a real run at doing Thanksgiving at home in the Netherlands this year.  It’s not easy.

I found two splendid turkey breasts last night, and have found a recipe that suggests how to make them with a nice cranberry bread stuffing.  I’ve got a big bag of green beans waiting for an almond topping, cranberry relish already gelling in the ‘fridge, and big plans for a pumpkin pie.  My Dutch friends are contributing sweet potatoes, bread, and salad (besides their appetites), so I think we’re good to go.

The turkey breast will be a bit tricky since the game store removed the skin and bones, so it’s not clear how to hold things together so there is a cavity for the stuffing.  I put the question out on Facebook and got a lot of good ideas and suggestions, so I’m good to go there. (many thanks to all!)

Armed with my shopping list, then, I set off for the Albert Heijn for the last bits.

Spices are always a challenge in the Netherlands because people generally don’t bake (and why would you with a bakery on every corner?).  Spice names can also be non-intuitive (Muskaat – Nutmeg : Kaneel – Cinnamon), sage (salie) isn’t as common, allspice is unknown.  So it’s a bit of a scavenger hunt to come up with all of the ingredients or substitutes.  I didn’t do bad: slivered almonds were a puzzle, and I barely got the last bags of  cranberries (veenbessen).

The pumpkin pie was the impossible one.

The recipe calls for mashed pumpkin, eggs, condensed milk, spices, brown sugar, butter, all mixed and ladled into pie shells.  This is the archetypical list of things you can’t find in the AH.

I started by asking for pumpkin (pompoen).  The clerk headed for the vegetable section.  “Sorry, no, I need it already out of the pumpkin, in a can?”  The clerk looked baffled and a little worried.  A can?  We checked the veggie aisle; he said he’d never seen anything like that.  I asked another clerk if there was mashed pumpkin somewhere, making sqhishing motions with my fingers.  He brightened: absolutely!, and brought me pumpkin juice from the health food section.

Pie shells were no easier: the frozen desserts included lots of ice cream and fruit, but no pies or cakes.  Condensed milk brought5 me to the shelf-milk section where I had a choice of volle or koffie melk, but not what I needed.

It’s okay: dessert will be store-bought this year.  The important things are taken care of and I’m grateful to have even gotten a few calls from expat friends asking me to join them for celebrations.   Many thanks; friends are definitely something I’m thankful for this season.

Windy, wet Monday flu vaccination alert

 

The weather has turned dismal, a uniform colorless grey, dim, misty drizzle; the boats are ghosts along the water, the bridges only faint lines in the mist.  The streets are vacant, only the occasional  pedestrian blows by, umbrella flattened to their head.

The phones are starting to quiet as US residents move into the Thanksgiving holiday.  It’s a hard time to be in Europe, this was always the time that the family got together for a day of cooking, toasting the bird as it went into the oven and thinking of things to be thankful about as it came out.  The most memorable Thanksgiving was the year that my daughter was born the day before: my son, 2 years old, and I had a patched together dinner and talked about his new sister.

I prevailed on a Dutch friend this year to help me find some turkey for the holiday.  The local butchers said that they couldn’t help with ordering, and the Markt Square vendors didn’t have the bird.  We finally visited a shop that specializes in game meats, rabbit, venison, and such, located outside of town: they had turkey breasts for about $2.50 per pound.  So I got a couple and feel like I’m really making progress.  I’m dusting off the cranberry and pie recopies and am joining friends for a traditional dinner.

Against this warm memory, the US Consulate sent along an urgent announcement about the  H1N1 flu:

The Dutch Minister of Health has decided, as a preventive measure, to recommend that all children born between 23 November 2004 and 23 May 2009 be vaccinated against the H1N1 virus.  Furthermore, all members of households with babies younger than 5 months old are strongly advised to be vaccinated as well.

The country-wide vaccination program will be carried out by the municipal health services (Gemeentelijke Gezondheisdsdienst, GGD) and comprises two vaccinations with an interval between them of approximately two weeks.  Vaccination will start on 23 November 2009 and will be free of charge.  The GGD vaccination scheme is mentioned on http://www.grieppandemie.nl/informatie_voor/kinderen/oproep_vaccinatie.

If you are quarantined or placed in isolation due to 2009-H1N1 influenza, please contact the Consulate General so we can monitor your situation.  U.S. citizens residing or traveling in the Netherlands are encouraged to register with the Consulate General through the State Department's travel registration website to obtain updated travel and security information.

Evolution of the 4th of July

Happy 4th of July, everyone !

A day like any other here, but I’ve noted the creeping silence that has enveloped blogs and e-mail accounts  as US-based folks take off for the long holiday weekend.  Some are boating or visiting relatives; others taking lazy days at home to mingle with neighbors and watch community fireworks.  It’s a traditional  mid-summer holiday; my memories are connected more to stages in life than to civil celebrations.

As a child, we would visit my relatives in Dayton, Ohio for the 4th.  The GE / Whirlpool park would have a open-air movie night, with everyone sitting on the grass with a picnic watching a washed-out projection of some battlefield epic.  Tobruk was my favorite: Rock Hudson battling across the desert to blow up a petroleum farm.

 

• As a teen, I worked as a Wally-Y Day Camp counselor in Northbrook, IL.  The 4th was the holiday that my best friend Jeff and I would drive up to Kenosha WI to get cases of beer, load up my purple Gremlin, and head back for all-night beach parties at Syd’s house in Glencoe.

In the 80’s, we lived in Kennewick, WA, a hyper-patriotic town in the distant desert of Washington state.  The 4th was an occasion for joining friends for a bar-b-q, watching fireworks over the Columba River from the apartment, and trying to avoid the 115 deg F daytime heat.

 

The 90’s found us raising kids near Seattle: there were obligatory trips to the fireworks stands to pick out the year’s explosives, inevitably spending about double what  planned, then waiting for it to get dark enough to shoot them off from the driveway.  It was a neighborhood affair, everyone would bring their contribution and we’d terrify small animals afraid of the noise until the wee hours.  There would be an hour’s round of picking up spent casings and papers the morning after.

Today, there’s an expat bar-b-q outside Maastricht, and we’ll celebrate quietly with red, white, and blue flowers, German sausages standing in for hotdogs, Belgian beer in place of Pabst, and no way to make chocolate cupcakes with coloured frosting. 

Still, it will be fun to have a bit of a celebration to remember all the good summer times gone, hopefully lots still to come.