GOURMAND SAVANT

"Like hunger, physical love is a necessity. But man's appetite for amour is never so regular or so sustained as his appetite for the delights of the table." 

Honore de Balzac

I love food.  I have always loved food.  I have a great appetite for food but it doesn't even have to be about eating it. All senses become involved with food.  I like shopping for it.  I like preparing it. I like seeing and smelling and touching it. I especially like serving it.  

The memories of my life are punctuated by memories involving food.  While other kids were playing "house" I was playing "restaurant".  I would drag my friends and family to sit at my kid-sized formica table in front of my cardboard appliance box which my father had helped me turn into a "take out window".  I had my empty cardboard egg carton and my paper plates and "menu" and I would get to work serving.

As I got a little older, maybe 8 years old, I got better kitchen toys.  Easy Bake Ovens "were for girls" so I didn't even ask for one of those no matter how much I secretly wanted one.  Instead I got a Magic Chef Grill!  It was a thing of beauty to me.  It was a white plastic range with a real griddle heated by a light bulb.  "Chefs" were men so I guess that made all the difference.  Now I could actually cook a hot dog, small hamburger or even an egg.  I was delighted.  Another toy I remember begging for was a "Pretzel Factory".  I liked that but even at 8 I knew that "single purpose" gadgets were silly.  I still follow that principle.  Then there was the "Soda Fountain"!  It was a smaller replica of the old drugstore soda dispensers.  I think you put a bottle of soda in it and you could play "diner".  And I did.

I also had children's versions of baking pans, rolling pin and measuring cups.  I even kept a "spare" set at my aunt's house so I could bake for her and my uncle when I visited them.  I quickly outgrew the miniature versions and moved onto the grown-up ones.

Not all of my food memories are active ones.  There were also passive ones as well.  I remember my earliest vacations with my family so fondly.  I remember playing with cousins, running on the boardwalk, swimming and of course dining out.  It is impossible for me to think of a boardwalk without immediately thinking of the smell of sausage & peppers, cotton candy and french fries.  To this day I can't let a summer pass without having at least one shiny red candy apple on some New Jersey boardwalk.  

There were also the restaurants.  I remember a place in Montauk, Long Island, called The Flying Fish.  It was about being with my siblings, mom and dad, but it was also about the lobster and the Peach Melba.  I must have been 7.  There was a local Italian eatery here in my hometown called Sorrento's.  We ate there often.  I remember big tables, organ music, camaraderie and the smell of garlic bread.  We had lovely shrimp cocktails served in cocktail glasses with a little lettuce, hot cocktail sauce and topped off with one shiny black olive. 

Food, Gloria's Food!

The best food I can remember was at home.  My aunt Gloria lived with us and she was a wonderful cook.  She was the keeper of the family recipes which I have inherited.  Gloria had learned from her mother and I learned from Gloria. I have been blessed with the food knowledge of generations of Italian homemakers. 

As a kid I loved Saturday nights.  That was the night that Gloria would spend hours in the kitchen making meatballs and other treats and simmering her sauce for hours in preparation for Sunday dinner.  The aroma of her cooking filled the house.  To me it was perfume.  I couldn't wait for her to  turn away or leave the kitchen for a minute so I could steal a meatball.  Golden fried, light and so hot I always burned my mouth, Gloria's meatballs were legendary.  I've spent a lifetime trying to reproduce them exactly.  

My mother and I traveled a lot during my teenage years.  We spent summers exploring Europe and Spring breaks visiting one Caribbean island after another.   These were really great experiences and of course exposed me to more and more cultures and cuisines.  It was during this time that realized I had the ability analyze the food I ate.  I was able to pick out the ingredients and preparation so that when I returned home I could re-create dishes fairly well.  

Like all great travelers, I have seen more than I 

remember and remember more than I have seen. 

Benjamin Disraeli

All these years later I still have my same love of food.  I still like to visit new restaurants and sample and recreate.  I'm at my happiest in the kitchen, where I commune with my ancestors, or serving my food to a gathering of dear friends.  

FRIDAY NIGHT MEANS FAMILY NIGHT

As long as I can remember Friday nights have always been family night. When I was young it wasn't uncommon for 10 or more extended family members to join us at the kitchen table. My mother's sister Gloria [who lived with mom and me] would put on a feast. More friends and family would usually drop in later for coffee, dessert, gossip and nostalgia.

I loved Friday nights. The house was filled with love and fun and cousins to play with. The aroma of tomato sauce was inescapable. When you were there you knew you belonged. That's where and when I developed my loving relationship with food and cooking. I watched Gloria cook. I pitched in. I saw the look on everyone's faces as the food was being served.

Family night was always a deleted scene from MOONSTRUCK

Sure there was love and food and fun and strong ties to the past but don't think it was all smooth and congenial. Italian families, my family, don't work that way. Along with the niceties were the arguments, temperaments, gossip and scandals. No quiet bunch, this Clemente-Lanni clan!

And then there was the humor

Larger-than-life personalities seems to be genetic. When uncle George [Orlando] and his wife were in the house you knew there were going to be laughs. As a kid I had to miss a great deal of George's humor because I was sent out of the room with the other kids. I could hear the laughter coming from the kitchen and I sorely wanted to be in with the "grow-ups". George had colorful language. This was long before political correctness. George was our very own Richard Pryor or Red Foxx. There's a lot of George in me, at least my sense of humor.

Times change and family shrinks

Family members have fallen by the wayside and my generation is spread all over the place with kids of their own but I have continued the Friday family tradition. Sure most weeks there are only 4 or 5 of us but I cook family favorites and we sit around the table and yell and argue and reminisce.

Tonight's menu:

Pasta Fagioli [we say pasta "fazool"] *

Breaded chicken cutlet

Salad

Italian cheesecake

*recipe to follow

"Please allow me to introduce myself"

This is a milestone year for me. I turned 50. "Middle age" is a misnomer. I don't plan on living to 100 although I'll leave that up to genetics. That's a toss-up because my father died at age 50 but my mother is nearly 90 and has three surviving siblings all over the age of 80.

My early adult years were carefree and exciting. I was an actor, producer, director and at various times in my life I was also a caterer and antiques dealer. I had my hand in a lot of things. I spent all my free time traveling the world seeking adventure, culture and cuisine.

Life Changes Unexpectedly

It's good that I did my roaming when I was younger. Although I'm the same guy I was back then, my circumstances are not. These were great times but unfortunately every time I would return home I would notice that my mother was crying a little more, becoming reclusive and increasingly forgetful. This got pretty hard to ignore, no matter how hard I tried.

The doctors said Adelaide had clinical depression. That’s not too hard to understand or accept. After all she had dealt with so much with her husband dying so young and now she was retired from her beloved teaching. A lot of people get depressed when they retire. Don’t they? Well at least there were medicines to try. And try we did…for years with no improvement. Finally there was a new doctor who introduced a new phrase to the family: Alzheimer’s disease.

That’s a pretty ugly phrase.

That was 20 years ago.

Family and life choices

I have watched my mother descend through so many unpleasant phases of this ravaging illness. Now this formerly articulate woman has arrived back in "infanthood" totally dependent on others for her daily survival. Her journey has also been my journey. Now I want to take others along with us.

I am the youngest of her children and have been her main caregiver for the past 10 years. She lives with me and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I have become a very strong, loving manager. I have found hidden inner strength, both physical and emotional, to cope with becoming the “parent” to my mother with all that is implied. There have been so many “firsts” along the way and every one of them has made us stronger. From the first time my mother forgot a familiar face to the first time we faced incontinence I had a private cry followed by resolve to work though the challenge.

I, like Gloria Gaynor, will survive!

I'm fortunate to have great friends and an amazingly strong family. I still have a great, interesting and rich life. I have learned a great deal about caring for an Alzheimer's patient and mostly I have learned a great deal about myself.

Why blog?

What can you expect to find here?

I plan on sharing amusing stories of family and friends.

I hope to give practical tips and advice for other caregivers.

You can be sure to hear a lot about food and theater. I'm going to share recipes, menus and cooking stories.

When I get the chance to travel you are surely going to hear all about my trips.

Join me

Please feel free to contact me with any questions. Tell me about your experiences as a caregiver. Or just introduce yourself to me.