leahlarkin

A Fishy Tale

But, this one is real, genuine.

It’s well known that folks go to extremes and spend big bucks on their pets. Cats, Dogs, Horses, Birds, Guinea Pigs….but goldfish? Read on.

It all started some years ago when friends Mollie and David, who restored a 17^th century house near here, decided to buy a few goldfish for their “bassin” (spring-fed basin). Shortly thereafter they noticed huge herons swooping down on the bassin. The fish were nowhere to be found. They figured they had become bird food. So, they bought a few more, only later to discover the original fishies had just been in hiding.

All survived and multiplied — in profusion. They even named some of the fish: Mister Gold, Mister Silver, Chocolate Drop. Many quadrupled (or more) in size and grew into beautiful, multi-colored specimens. Mollie and David became attached to their underwater pets and proudly showed them off to visitors.

All was not well, however, as it appeared the bassin was losing water. Not great amounts at first. So, they just refilled.

This summer the small leaks grew to rivers of escaping water. The water level was descending at a rapid level. The precious fish were in danger of asphyxiation. No problem. They’d buy an inflatable swimming pool and transfer the fish to a temporary home while they repaired the leaks.

Inflating the pool and filling it were challenging, time-consuming tasks. Meanwhile, water continued to escape from the bassin, so they kept refilling. It was a hectic race to keep the fish underwater. Nerves were on edge. Tension soared. The fight for the fish was grueling.

Once the temporary fish pool was ready, the monumental task of catching the critters was underway. They called in reinforcements to assist, friends Dee and Alan. David got in the bassin and scooped with a net – over and over, then passed the net with his catch to the others who dumped it into the temporary fish pond. There were always those that got away. How many fish were there? The supply seemed endless, mind-boggling. Finally, at a count of 226, they had rescued all the fish. (Happy goldfish obviously have an active sex life.)

At last the fish were safe and they could take a breather and repair the bassin. Or, so they thought. After the trauma and nerve wracking tasks of fighting leaks and catching fish, David was about to enjoy a soothing shower.

Mollie and David are not just fish fanciers. They also have three cats and a dog. Prudence, a big gray feline, came streaking into the house drenched — looking like she stepped out of a cartoon. She was soaked. Mollie quickly realized she had tried to go fishing and fallen into the swimming pool/fish pond. But, how did she get out? Using her razor sharp claws of course, to grab onto the pool’s inflatable rim.

David was diverted from the shower and they raced to the fish pool. Sure enough, it was punctured with tiny holes and water was gushing out. They got the repair kit that came with the pool and started patching – all this long after the sun had gone down. They kept re-pumping the pool. They could not get all the holes sealed. It seemed to be a losing battle. Water was still escaping – overflowing as the pool deflated. Both wet to the bone, they worked furiously until midnight.

Every few hours that night David got up to re-inflate the pool and add more water. Thanks to his diligence, there were no dried fish for breakfast next morning.

Next day they took on the repair of the bassin. It was an all day job, and of course they continually had to refill and re-inflate the swimming pool fish pond to keep the fishes submerged. More stress. More anxiety. Exhaustion. All this to save some goldfish?

As if the fish fiasco was not enough, they had another battle to rage. Droves of nasty wasps had taken up residence under their roof. They dared not go near their swimming pool (a real one for humans). Wasps love to drink swimming pool water and beware if you are in their way. They had to have a crew of men wearing space-like suits come to eradicate the wasps.

The wasps are dead. The pampered fish are alive and well and back in their bassin home – all 226 of them. And, Mollie and David are enjoying a well deserved rest.

Photos by David Regan

Gourmet Escapade in the Vineyards

It was a bit of paradise, a perfect combination: trekking though spring vineyards with stops en route to sip wine and savor gourmet delicacies. I could not pass this one up – the 12^th Escapade des Gourmets in the vine covered slopes surrounding Rasteau, a town well known for its fine Côtes-du-Rhône wines.

This jolly and tasty event was attended by some 2,500 participants who, with dogs and children in tow, hiked up and down the picturesque hillsides. The scenery and views were splendid. But, the star attractions were wine and food – and entertainment.

The six-kilometer (four hours with stops) jaunt featured six stops along the route, each offering a different culinary treat and numerous wines to sample that best accompanied the food offered.

After paying 36 euros , each participant was given a bib with a glass, and a card marked with the six different stops and the list of wines offered at each. Participants were also given numbers which assigned them to groups for departure purposes lest all set out at once creating chaos on the hillsides. Our group was initially accompanied by a farmer in vintage attire who was followed by an obedient flock of geese, two goats, and a dog pulling a baby goat attached to a leash. A jovial entourage.

As you entered each stop, your card was checked. Then you could proceed to the food and wines – several wines at each stop which you could rate in case you wanted to make purchases later.

First stop, mise en bouche, hearty snacks, where three different vintages of Côtes-du Rhône blanc could be sampled. We moved on to my favorite, foie gras. Here three sweet wines, Vin doux naturel doré, were offered.

Best not go overboard on the wine – many kilometers ahead. And, the terrain became more demanding with short climbs up a hill into the woods. Along the way were views of the distant peak of Mt.Ventoux, and vineyards stretching mile after mile. Lots of photo opps.

At the Feuilleté stop, yummy pastry treats filled with cheese awaited, as well as three different Côtes-du-Rhône rosés. At this stop and many, a guitarist played. Some featured singers. Many in the crowd joined in singing folk songs, cabaret tunes, pop… At one stop a male choir performed in a vineyard chapel. By the last stop, gateaux chocolat, (chocolate cake) many were so moved by the wine and music, they danced.

The main course of this progressive meal was Daube Provencale (beef stew) –— served hot in the hinterlands buffet style. Hats off to the Rasteau volunteers, some 120 dedicated souls who manned the stands, served the food and wine, and overcame many an obstacle to transport both cuisine and drink to these remote locales. Portable toilets with sawdust had even been constructed.

Wine aficionados had a field day at the Daube stop where no less than 10 Rasteau Côtes-du Rhône Villages rouge wines were offered. What’s a French meal without cheese? That was next where another five Côtes-du Rhône Villages reds could be tasted.

The finale, Gateaux chocolat, was paired with two different sweet wines, Vin doux naturel rouge.

This is one not to miss. Next year’s Escapade will take place on May 13. Details at www.terres-de-lumiere.com

More to come on Tales and Travels, including new recipes and more photos in the photo gallery. You’re welcome to subscribe to future posts, and comments are also welcome.

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Encore America

I’ve lived in Europe for 35 years – and I love it here. But, it’s always interesting to return to the US. This time (May), was a treat with visits to Michigan for my high school reunion, then New Orleans, New York City, Cape Cod and Boston.

During those first few hours after arrival at the Detroit Airport, I felt I was in culture shock. Our first experience with a “native” was the woman driver of our shuttle van who drove us from the airport to the rental car agency. She helped with our heavy suitcases. She was delightful and chatty, and offered advice on rental car procedures. The woman at the car agency was equally as accommodating, going out of her way to see what discounts she could arrange for us, then giving detailed instructions on how to find our way to our destination. During our travels, we often encountered extra friendly and helpful people like these. It’s rare to find such extra “service with a smile” in Europe.

Detroit is car city, so I suppose it’s not unusual to encounter super, super highways – often four lanes in each direction. It all seemed so vast and modern. The buildings along the highways appeared new and sleek. Everything is clean. Our room at a Holiday Inn was another surprise. The room was huge, with a king sized bed, a coffee maker, ironing board and iron, and of course television and Internet. Breakfast, including eggs, was included in the very reasonable price. I guess I’ve lived in Europe too long, but I was in awe of it all.

It’s a treat to be served water in a glass with ice at restaurants and not have to pay for it. And, coffee refills at no extra charge. The coffee may not be the greatest, but you can drink as much as you want. Shopping is another plus. While in Michigan, we visited the Great Lakes Crossing Mall, Michigan’s largest outlet mall. Mind-boggling. Twenty-five stores under one roof. I’m not into power shopping, but prices for clothes, shoes, linens and more are usually much less in the U.S. than in Europe. The only problem these days is bringing it back, but we planned ahead and left extra room in our suitcases, and carried the heavier items with us.

It’s not all paradise. Restaurants are often very loud and noisy, the atmosphere less than inviting for lingering over a delicious meal. In the states, you are not supposed to linger. Usually when dessert is served, you are presented with the check and expected to pay and leave promptly. Not pleasant.

However, reuniting with high school friends after 50 years (I’m old) was more than pleasant. There were only 29 girls in our 1961 graduating class at the Academy of the Sacred Heart in

Bloomfield Hills, Michigan. Four, sadly, are deceased. Fourteen attended the reunion coming from 14 different states and me from France. We had a lovely evening supper at the home of one of my classmates, another evening cocktail party and buffet dinner at the home of one of the women’s amazing 99-year-old mother, then a cocktail party at the school followed by dinner in a restaurant. I am so glad I did not miss the festivities and meaningful visits.

My husband Bob also celebrated a reunion with some of his eight brothers sisters at the home of his sister Kathy who lives in Romeo, Michigan, about an hour from our hotel in Birmingham. Another sister and brother and their spouses drove all the way to Romeo from their homes in Wadsworth, Ohio (a 4-hour one-way trip) to see brother Bob for a day. A great testimonial to family togetherness.

On to New Orleans – a fabulous place. Details will follow in a future blog. Then New York City where my stepdaughter Kellie lives in Soho. My stepson Rob and two step grandsons came

blog5 — Rob, Lang, Kellie, Sam, Bob at Bronx Zoo

from Winchester, Va., to spend four days with us there. We took a ride on the Staten Island ferry, visited the Bronx Zoo, walked and walked, ate great burgers, cooked delicious meals in Kellie’s brand new state-of-art kitchen…New York is exhilarating.

Last stop Cape Cod where Bob’s sister Susan and husband Brian have a beautiful home. Susan was tour guide extraordinaire, driving us all over Cape Cod and Boston. At Provincetown, we joined a whale watching cruise and spotted two whales. We were bowled over by the Cape Cod seafood – delicious lobster, scallops the size of peaches, and a wide variety of fish. Compared to Europe, the prices seemed downright cheap. We took the opportunity to visit nearby Boston where we admired the stunning architecture, followed the Freedom Trail, a walking excursion in the city past historical sites, and, for a special end-of-journey meal, dined at a classy restaurant atop the Prudential Building with spectacular views – courtesy of Brian. Indeed a “bon voyage.”

Bella Venezia

Venice is one of my very favorite places. It’s beautiful, unique, fascinating… how can you not fall it love with this wondrous place where streets are streams of water?

Venice is a collection of 118 islands, intersected by more than 150 canals and joined by some 400 bridges – all resting in the heart of 200 square miles of partially navigable salt march. I’ve been several times, most recently in March for a few days. We arrived on the last day of Carnevale. This is an amazing spectacle. Gorgeously costumed posers wander throughout the city, stopping by monuments, on bridges, in front of churches, happily pausing for tourists to snap the obligatory photo.

This was our second time in Venice for Carnival, but this time was somewhat disappointing as we did not see as many costumed revelers. As the festivities go on for two weeks, perhaps many were tired and had packed up and headed home by the last day.

Venice, however, was not disappointing. Our friend Noel Parks, an American we know from our days in Germany, is now retired and lives about an hour from the magical city which he visits frequently. He adores Venice, and knows it inside and out.

Noel and friends had rented a house in Venice for the Carnival period. A friend of theirs, obviously a gifted seamstress, had made the group lavish costumes so they could fully participate in this marvelous event.

After serving us a Bellini (delicious Venetian cocktail made with sparkling wine and peach puree), Noel gave us his Venice tour. We followed him down skinny alleys, along picture-book canals, across bridges. The city is labyrinthine, but Noel never consulted a map. He knew every turn and guided us to numerous hidden treasures most tourists probably miss. His commentary at the sites was lively and entertaining. We were mesmerized.

I asked Noel to send me the text (14 pages) – his extensive research on Venice. Following are some of the highlights which he pointed out during our tour.

Our guide led us through a Sotoportego, a passage under a building and explained that Venice is a challenge to get around as there are numerous dead-end alleys. They were designed on purpose to confuse anyone who might invade.

Piazza San Marco (St. Mark’s Square) was called “the finest drawing room in Europe” by Napoleon. This is the place to sit in an outdoor café and people watch, but be prepared to pay for the popular seats in these pricey places. Noel told us this is the only “piazza” in Venice as the other squares are all called by different names, “campo, piazetta ,”etc.

San Marco, the famous church depicted in the favorite Venice postcard, is the third church built on the spot. It is said that every ship returning to Venice had to bring a treasure for the church. The mind-boggling ornate interior is a collection of these objects which accumulated over the centuries.

The campanile (church bell tower) was built in the beginning of the 20^th century as a replacement for the original which collapsed in 1907. The city is built on pilings that were driven into the mud to support the weight of the buildings. When rebuilding the campanile, they figured they best check the pilings since they had been in the ground for about 1,000 years. Upon examination, the pilings proved to be in perfect condition as they were in an anoxic environment. They were simply driven back into the mud.

Our visit to the ghetto where Venetian Jews were forced to live until the time of Napoleon was haunting. Jews in the ghetto were rounded up and deported to extermination camps. The Holocaust Memorial is a series of bronze reliefs depicting Jews who faced the gas chambers and other forms of Nazi brutality.

A highlight of the excursion was our lunch break at one of Noel’s favorite restaurants, Sempione. He helped us order. We started with a glass of Prosecco, the popular Italian bubbly. I went for a tasty seafood pasta creation. We topped the meal with a glass of the luscious Italian lemon liquor, limoncello, and then a wonderfully decadent concoction, Sgroppino, a creamy mixture of lemon and plain ice cream and lemon Vodka. Magnifico!

On our last day we took the vaporetto (water bus) to the island of Murano, the glass island. The trip by water offered spectacular views of the city. I was in pursuit of a whimsical chandelier, a curious creation I had seen at an Italian restaurant in the mountains during a ski vacation. I was told it came from Venice.

In Murano all the glass factories have show rooms with displays of their merchandise. Vases, chandeliers, glasses, bowls, jewelry….We visited them all. The main street along a canal is lined with shop after shop offering more of the same. We perused them all – but no chandelier like the one I craved to be found. Nonetheless, we enjoyed Murano. It was quiet and calm, a contrast to the bustle of Venice. And, even if I did not find my prize, I enjoyed looking at all the fabulous, colorful glass objects.

There’s so much to see and visit in Venice. This was a short trip. No time to visit the interiors of museums, churches and palazzi. We’ll go back for sure.

For more photos of Venice, click on the Photo Album, center column. We ate lots of wonderful seafood in Venice. I was inspired to serve a shrimp salad at my most recent dinner party. It was a winner. See recipe in far left column. And, please feel free to comment. Click Comment below.

Celebrating in Croatia

Another wedding. This time in Nasice, Croatia. Zrinka Habuda, 29, the daughter of husband Bob’s second cousin, Dubi, married Slobodan “Bocko” Licinic, 35, on March 5.

It was a rollicking event. Mountains of food. Ample quantities of wine and slivovica (plum brandy, the potent national beverage). Non-stop music. Spirited song. Lively dance. For hours… and hours …. and hours.

For us, festivities got under way at the bride’s home at about 1 p.m. Close friends and family of the bride gathered to savor platters of smoked meat, a variety of pastries, glasses of wine and/or that wicked brandy, while a five-piece band belted out tunes that everyone knew. As guests arrived, Marija, Zrinka’s sister, pinned most with a swig of rosemary decorated with a tiny ribbon of Croatia’s national colors. A tradition, she told me. Close family members and those in the wedding party got small corsages.

As the crowd mushroomed and the liquid refreshment flowed, the party heated up. Most everyone sang – loud, hearty voices. Song after song, mainly jaunty ethnic tunes, and they knew the words to all. They danced, linking arms, making a circle, always in motion.

Several hours later the groom and his family arrived. They had been celebrating in a similar fashion at his home. Another tradition got underway. Instead of his bride-to-be, Bocko was presented with a fake bride, one of Zrinka’s friends, head covered with a white cloth.

The small apartment was crowded, but the celebrants still found room to dance. The merry-making continued until it was time to move on to the church, about 5 p.m. Before departing, Pavle, Zrinka’s father, gave a moving speech to his daughter which brought tears to some.

Zrinka had a maid of honor and Bocko, a best man. Zrinka also had two bridesmaids, but, unlike in the U.S., they wore street clothes instead of matching formal attire. The momentous event was well documented – two video photographers, and another for still shots.

Candles provided a romantic, if not mystical, atmosphere in the old world Catholic church. The ceremony was short, and at the end the bride and groom stepped to the altar to sign numerous documents to make it all official.

Long, long tables stretched across a vast room of a hotel in a town about 20 minutes away where the reception was held. The same band, now wearing matching white “folk costume” shirts, wasted no time to get on with the show. And, the guests were quick to move to the dance floor.

Some 120 guests, a small wedding by Croatian standards, were treated to a wedding meal – more precisely meals. Bottles of wine, juice, cola and vials of slivovica, as well as another type of brandy, sat on the long tables.

The first course was the “obligatory” wedding soup (chicken noodle) which is always served at Croatian weddings. Then bowls of tender boiled beef and carrots. Next came stuffed cabbage in broth. After that, cole slaw and tomatoes. Then, enormous platters with big chunks of pork, lamb, and breaded schnitzel, surrounded by potatoes and mixed vegetables. Wedding cake would not be served until after midnight, so trays of pastries appeared after this over-the-top meal.

“We need lots of food for energy. We dance a lot,” one guest explained when I expressed astonishment as the food kept coming. As the night wore on, the music and dance were equally as astonishing. The band never took a break. Nor did many of the dancers. Song after song, they kept up the pace. The music was part ballroom, part folk, but always energetic.

At midnight, a several-tiered wedding cake arrived. The cutting ceremony was much like that in the U.S., but it was followed by a procession of all the guests who stepped up one by one to greet the happy couple and present their gifts. Most put an envelope with money in a basket held by sister Marija.

In addition to the wedding cake, some seven or eight lavishly decorated cakes covered a table. It’s a tradition that each bridesmaid, as well as any others who wish to display their baking skills, bring a cake. “It’s more like showing off,” Marija said.

Even after all that food, I had to try a few small bites of these delicacies. The wedding cake, layered with fruit and custard, was the clear winner.

I was growing weary, but not the other guests. Maybe if Bob and I were better dancers, we would have been more in the spirit. But, we failed dancing lessons we took years ago when we lived in Germany. So, we sat and watched the joyous revelers.

We were told we had to stay for the traditional goulash served at 2 a.m. Yes, more food, but it was delicious Croatian fare. And, we noticed a few people leaving after goulash, so we, too, said our farewells.

We were back in the same room the next day at 1 p.m. for a luncheon, mainly tasty leftovers from the night before. No music. No song and dance. The party goers, including the bridal couple now wearing jeans, were clearly weary. No wonder. Marija said the dancing went on until 4:30 a.m.

See recipe for “Palachinka” (Croatian crepes) in far column – my husband’s favorite.