Frances Ensor Benedict

Our beloved grandmother passed away on Sunday, after 94 years on this earth. She was an amazing woman, a devoted mother, grandmother and great-grandmother who was an enthusiastic democrat in a decidedly red state. Sharp as a whip, she had a wicked sense of humor. And the most beautiful, soft and melodic voice that I could listen to for hours. She was a true Tennessee lass and would occasionally have a Jack Daniels; Which she would generously share, as told by my cousin Gordon who witnessed her give a thimble-full to a stunned bird after it flew into her picture window--causing it to then fly into her chimney. Clearly a little too much Jack! 

She was my first pen-pal, a practice we continued for nearly 25 years until she couldn't really write letters anymore because she had a hard time seeing. Though I continued our tradition, simply writing bigger in hope that even if she couldn't read it, the steady stream of letters and postcards would keep her updated on our goings-on and let her know I was thinking of her, even though I was far away.

She loved family and was passionate about genealogy, spending years researching both the Ensors and Benedicts, even making pilgrimages to England to visit graveyards and hunting down lost records. Five years ago when she moved herself from her home in Cookeville, Tennessee to a retirement home, she hosted our last family reunion blow-out and handed post-it notes to everyone, instructing us to put our names on anything we wanted to take home with us. She had already moved what she would be keeping to her new home, and wanted the family to take the rest before it was donated to charity. I asked for two things: my grandfather's pipe (though Grandma B. wasn't entirely sure if it was my grandfather's or her father's-- but either way, I was happy for the heirloom); and a delicate, hand-painted teacup and saucer that my Grandmother and Grandfather won playing Bingo on their first date when she was 15. A few weeks later, a very heavy box arrived at my apartment in Chicago, carefully addressed in my grandmother's beautiful handwriting. Upon opening it, I found a much loved cast iron skillet. My grandma knew how much I loved to cook, and likely thought that every happy home needed a traditional skillet. Made all the more special knowing it was one that she had cooked with. There was a card, but no note. I guess she just thought that I needed it. :)

I know that I am extremely blessed that I have lived most of my life with doting grandparents. To know the unconditional love of a grandparent as a child is a privilege. To know your grandparent as an adult is an absolute gift.

I love you Grandma B. 

Frances Ensor Benedict
May 16, 1918-September 2, 2012

With Aunty Mikie

Gobble-Gobble

  

 

Another Thanksgiving away from the fam. And seeing as I'm more homesick than usual this year, I'm especially missing them today. Fall is my favorite season... the crisp weather and changing leaves dotted by celebrations (Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas), makes it even better. Alas, my adopted English home does not celebrate Thanksgiving (or Halloween for that matter-- at least not with the same gusto as the Americans), so it's just a regular Thursday, which makes it all a little sad.

That being said, I have lots to be thankful for this year. A wonderful family who are healthy and happy; an amazing husband who is one of the kindest and most generous people I know; incredible friends who are the family that I choose; and a comfortable life, which is a very good thing in a bad and uncertain economy. Oh-- and that I picked up some canned pumpkin at Whole Foods in London last weekend. I just might make two pumpkin pies.

Even though it's not a holiday here, I've taken today and tomorrow off as a nod to my cultural roots. My wonderful English family is hosting Thanksgiving dinner for me at their house on Saturday, so I'm cooking along with everyone in the U.S. today to get ready for the big (delayed) day. Soup and pie crust today; Pies, stuffing and cauliflower gratin tomorrow; Then all the other trimmings on Saturday. My lovely brother-in-law has volunteered to make the turkey. Whoop-whoop! Here's what's on my Thanksgiving menu... what's on yours?

Appetizer
Curried butternut squash and apple soup

Main course
Turkey!
Cornbread and sausage stuffing
Maple sweet potato puree
Mashed potatoes
String beans sauteed with shallots and garlic
Roasted brussel sprouts with bacon
Cauliflower gratin
Green salad
Cranberry orange relish

Dessert
Pumpkin pie
Maple pecan pie
Caramel apple pie

Welcome to the world baby Isaac!

My very first nephew was born on the 18-November. A healthy 6 lbs 8 oz, he is the delight of the family! He is named for my Poppy, his great grandfather. He even has my grandpa's beautiful hands. What a lucky little one to be born into such a loving family-- he will be adored! And how lucky are we to have our newest addition! Congrats to my sister, K, husband J and my adorable niece Charlotte!

Baby Isaac

Proud sister, Charlotte

Helping out

Sibling love

Learning to play

A few years ago I asked my parents for a guitar for Christmas. I missed music-- I missed playing music and singing music and I wanted to see if I could learn an instrument again. Instruments were never my strong suit-- I always had to work at it; it never came easily. First was the piano and recorder. My wonderful Auntie, for whom I was named, taught both my sister and I to play the piano. The problem was that she was so good, and I so enjoyed my lessons with her, no other teacher ever was able to hold my attention or interest... and so while I'd dabble every once in a while, I never was able to play in the way I would have loved to.

Then came the clarinet-- the instrument that I chose for junior high band because, well, to be totally honest, it was the smallest and lightest and would easily fit in my locker. I had originally wanted to play the bass in orchestra... and then the trombone. But when I was reminded that I would have to lug that thing to and from school the appeal wore off. And I settled on the clarinet. Which I loved-- and I still love to pick out the clarinet in the orchestra... the rich sound of a clarinet solo. A much overlooked instrument if I do say so myself!

In college I sang. And the instrument background did me well because I could read music and had inherited a somewhat decent ear from my talented dad (and the Benedicts in general. What can I say? Music is in the Benedict blood. I was lucky to get a little glimmer of it). While I had sung all my life, it was the first time that I really performed and was disciplined about it-- singing in a group, recording albums. And I certainly got my fill of music.

But as I got older, music and the more artistic things I loved were fewer and far between. Working for the man and being in an office offered little creative expression and I was craving some sort of outlet, if even just for me. Hence, the guitar. I tackled it with gusto-- I signed up for lessons at the Old Town School of Music in Chicago (where I was living at the time); and I faithfully trudged to class-- rain, snow, sleet or shine, every week for about a year to try to master this new instrument-- or at least to be able to pound out a few notes that formed a song. It didn't hurt that one of my favorite japanese restaurants was across the street too...).

Unfortunately-- my lack of natural talent failed me. Or perhaps it was my greater love of singing. As with most instruments that I've played, I really had to work at it. But the bigger challenge was once we started singing while playing the guitar at the same time, I'd forget about the playing and just sing. My instructor found it amusing. I found it to be vexing.

When I moved to England, the guitar came along with me. But it has mostly hung on the wall in my office as a piece of art (and collecting lots of dust...). But this week something caused me to take it down and attempt to play again. My fingers are definitely rusty-- and I need to build my callouses back up (because MAN my fingers HURT), but I'm liking playing again. The desire to sing is still vexing me but maybe if I stick to it I might actually be able to play this thing. Well-- I can hope.

Happy Birthday to uuusssss...

It was our birthday last week-- our, not in the royal sense, but in the "Mikie and Aloha" sense. Despite having spent the last 18 birthdays apart, being a twin means that a birthday is always shared.

Being a twin gives you a sense of belonging. There's a collective, shared being that never really leaves you-- even if you live across the world from each other (like we do-- Hawaii to England does not an easy commute make). While we don't share "twin power"-- I don't feel it when she's in pain (thank goodness-- her child birth would not have been a pleasant thing for me); I can't read her thoughts. But I do know when she's hurting; we have the same taste in clothes, music, food, books, movies; and, we share some of the best friends we'll ever have. She's my best friend. Simple but true. We're closer than close. And while I don't get to see her everyday, I certainly feel her everyday. She's part of my DNA-- literally and spiritually.

My parents were always great with birthdays and holidays. While many twins become "one," my parents were always encouraging of our being individuals-- exploring our own interests, doing our own activities-- even though we'd eventually come back together. They even got us our own birthday cakes-- until we decided we liked the same thing and wanted to share. See-- that was the great thing about my parents. They let us choose when we wanted to be the same. I think it's made us stronger for it.

I made my grandmother's pineapple coconut cake for my birthday this year. MRN was going to buy, and then make, a cake, but I like to do it (and as I told him-- my being anal pretty much gets him off the hook every time). The funny thing? My sis was going to make the same cake until her husband told her he'd already ordered one. Without previous communication on the subject, we had unknowingly chosen the same birthday cake. Freaky.

So I made the cake, and MRN and I sang happy birthday to me and Aloha-- as is my custom. Once a shared birthday, always a shared birthday. And I'm okay with that.

Postscript: A couple of people have asked me for the recipe, so I've posted it below. It's reeeaaaallly complicated. Not really. It's the best recipes that are the easiest.

Grandma's Pineapple Coconut Cake
> 1-Box yellow cake mix
> 1 (or 2)-8 oz cans of crushed pineapple (do not drain)
> 1-tub of cool whip
> 1-7 oz package of shredded coconut

No joke. This recipe was my grandmothers-- and she got it from a container of cool whip! I've actually made this cake from scratch (I can't get any of the above items in the grocery store in England, so I made the cake and whipped cream from scratch, got some weird thing called desiccated coconut, which is basically minced coconut, from what i can tell, and got a real pineapple and cut it up and tried to mash it. It tasted okay, but it wasn't nearly as good as the cool whip recipe. i was able to order all of the above from a website that imports american food to here, except the cool whip-- so i settled for store-bought whip cream which I have to say isn't AS good, but the unsweetened whip does balance the slight sourness of the pineapple and the sweetness of the coconut!).

In any case-- the original recipe tells you to bake it in a greased 13 x 9 inch pan, which is just as good. Just follow the instructions on the cake mix and when you take the cake out of the oven, while it's still hot, use the handle-end of a wooden spoon and carefully poke holes all over the surface of the cake (about half-way down-- not all the way through; I don't do this with any sort of precision or planning...). then pour 1 can of crushed pineapple on top of the cake (or more if you like it-- juice and all) and spread evenly over the entire surface with a spatula. the pineapple will soak into the cake while it's cooling and make it really yummy. If you're using more than one can, I'd reserve some of the liquid because it could make it too soggy and cause it to fall apart when you serve it. Once cool, spread cool whip on top and sprinkle with coconut.

For special occasions i've adapted the recipe to make a layer cake (because it's oh-so-pretty). So, same as above, bake cake per instructions on box. When you take the rounds out, flip them onto cooling racks (usually I'll put one on the platter I'm serving on, and one on a cooling rack). as with the sheet cake, poke holes into the rounds and spread the pineapple over both rounds and allow to cool (I usually use about 1.5 cans of pineapple for both). when cool, spread whipped cream on top of your bottom layer on the cake platter; Carefully transfer top layer to cake platter; frost the top and sides with whip cream. Sprinkle top with coconut and carefully press sides with more coconut.

You have to work fast if you make the layer cake version when it's warm because the whip becomes a soggy mess. but even if it starts to melt, if you throw it in the fridge, it will firm back up again. also, don't worry about the holes in either version because the crushed pineapple will fill them in and you never even see them when you slice into it! :)

I'm a godmother!

I'm so completely honored to have been asked to be a godmother of this joyful, beautiful little girl. Sophie Laudurée Dempster-Gullino is my first godchild, and I'm so lucky to have her (and her amazing dads!) in my life. I just wish that I didn't live so far away from her so I could spoil her more easily (hmmm... maybe that's why her dads picked me! Less chance of enormous boxes showing up on their front porch). Lots and lots of love to the Dempster-Gullino family!

and me with her handsome dads...

Home

It's raining. And cold.

Booooo.

Lots of photos and some great stories to share (including the origin of my name!). Missing my family and friends already. Remind me again why I moved???

Road Trip!

We've been in Chicago for a few days now and have been having a wonderful time with our wonderful friends, K&E and J&E and their gaggle of littles. We have been having a slumber party at K&E's beautiful new house in the suburbs and it feels like we are proper grown ups with all of the hanging out in the kitchen and cooking and kids... oh; right. WE ARE! We had a few bonus prizes yesterday with the addition of Claudia and her two littles who are in town for a few weeks in between their move from Italy to Mexico; and, Amar graced us with his presence! Always a bright addition to our party, there's always some fun social challenge to solve, and he is entertaining to no end. Ahhhh!!! It is SO GOOD to be back here with my wonderful friends (who at this point, having known them more than half my life, are really more like my family).

Tomorrow we set off South to Tennessee to visit my grandmother. Mark's never been to the South (well, unless you count Florida which, while geographically South isn't well and truly Southern. He'll get to see more of the US on this road trip albeit, there's not too much between here and TN to see. We'll make it up to him with some seeing-of-the-sites in Music City. He's never met Grandma B, so he's super excited. Plus my dad and twin sis are meeting us there so it will be a family reunion of sorts! Wish my mom were coming, but having just recovered from shoulder surgery and being out of work already for two months, she just couldn't swing it. But we'll look forward to seeing her at Christmas.

I love road trips. The surprising stops, the good (bad) food, singing to good radio stations. But the stay in Chicago wasn't long enough. Maybe it's time to move back...

Pictured above (L-R): Tommy Cesca, Andrew Gaffney, Ella Cesca, Will Gaffney, Lucy Meder, Amelia Gaffney (held by daddy Emmet)

Pictured left: MRN being silly (well, responding amiably toward direction by his crazy wife).

Baby's Gotta Brand New Blog

My sis has retired her daughters' individual blogs and combined them into a family-affair. It's called "Goosie & Kenken: The happenings of two littles and sometimes, their bigs" which I think is just about the cutest thing ever. Goosie is AB's nickname for Nanea and Ken-Ken is short for Makena (read about how they adopted those totally adorable monikers here). My sis gets loads more traffic to her site than mine, but I thought I'd give the shout-out anyway!

Welcome to the world Sophie!

Sophie Ladurée Dempster-Gullino entered the world on Tuesday. Weighing in at a petite 6 lbs, 1 oz, she is a beauty-- and already the apple of her daddys' eyes. Can't wait to meet you Miss Sophie!!!

All [Hawaiian] American Girl

I wonder if I didn't live in another country if I would be so ra-ra everything American. I'm guessing not, since it would be just the same as everyday. But you've gotta think something's a bit off when your day is made by finding Grape Nuts at the grocery store (as mine was on Friday). Well, I guess it's the small things...

I think that if I had to pick one thing that I missed (aside from my family and friends), it would have to be food. And I'm not talking gourmet, foodie-food; I'm talking run of the mill, fast food (Yoshinoya, Chipotle, In & Out) and stuff of my childhood (vienna sausages, spam musubi, tofu). Yes-- gross (well, maybe not the tofu; although for some, maybe so). So when driving through Manchester on Saturday on a random detour to avoid traffic (which we didn't-- but that's another story altogether), I realized that we were on the street where I had discovered a Japanese market a few years ago and I excitedly requested a quick stop.

On my wish list: REAL rice, noodles, chili oil, nori and sake... and anything else of interest I could grab with my greedy little hands (oh, okay-- my hands aren't that little). To my great disappointment, the store was CLOSING and there was hardly any inventory left... I was able to get a few really small bags of rice and the last packet of nori (my sis kindly sent tobasco spam and I'm making spam musubi!) and a teeny bottle of sake. Well, it is better than nothing.

But thankfully, all is not lost... I discovered the Japan Centre in London which has an online store and they ship! Whoohoo! So while I'll have to wait a few days, at least I can get some creature comforts from home. No luck on the vienna sausages though. Even Selfridges vast array of American junk food-- Fluff, Lucky Charms, Aunt Jemima Pancake Mix... all for around $10 a pop, doesn't stoop so low for spam and vienna sausages. Ah well.

Coming down

With all the excitement and stress that comes with wedding planning, the weeks after are a huge let down. It was an amazing process and day-- and gosh, my amazing sister who executed the entire extravaganza. She gave me my dream wedding with all the talent, generosity of spirit and kindness that anyone could ever give. She has an amazingly unselfish heart, my sister, and I'm so blessed that have someone in my life that loves me that much. Unconditional love isn't just from parent to child! My sister taught me that.

In all, I have to admit that the post-wedding blues have gotten to me. Maybe in part it's because all the chaos that has been my life for the last few years (whirlwind romance, move to a new country, new job, engagement, wedding...) has finally come to a close and I'm a bit restless and in a "what's next" mood. I think a big part is that I have to now focus on the other stuff that's been easy to bury, like the fact that I'm super dissatisfied with my dead-end job, and am overwhelmed by the prospect of having to look for a new one. Not that I have to... but I've always been an over-achiever, and I am not happy with the fact that I am underutilized, unchallenged and my quickly rising career has gone backwards since taking the job in England.

With all the wedding hoopla, I also realized how very much I miss my family and friends... and that I'm lonely for them. It was the best thing in the world to have all the people that I love best in the world all in one place (minus my wonderful Kristina who had a good excuse-- 8 months pregnant!). I don't like that time zones make it impossible to talk to most people; that I can't go to lunch or shopping with my mom on a random weekday after work; that Kristina and I can't go for a walk down Michigan Avenue under the guise of returning stuff, but really because we want to go shopping (and so I can show her that you really CAN get great stuff on sale at Anthropologie); that I can't be a third wheel with Jen and Eddie on a Sunday afternoon to Costco... that I can't just sit in my sister's living room coloring with my beautiful nieces and stealing cuddles (and learning a heck of a lot from those little things who are WAY smarter than their old aunty). I adore my amazing husband... and now in the calm after the storm, I suppose we have to together figure out...

What next?

Come Visit Me!

...said the subject line of an email from my sister. Followed by text reading, "a message from Makena" and these:













And then I cried. :(

Love