I miss Jeannie. She was my next-door neighbor for many years before she moved to a farm and I moved to a ranch. Well, a ranch style home.
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It’s possible I may have the distinction of being the only person who’s been reading Bon Appetit for 30 years without trying a single recipe. Well, that’s a small exaggeration. I’ve tried a handful for better or worse, but my kids have always told me, “You’re better at the basics than when you try to go gourmet, Mom.”
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Our family recipe files are stained by tomato paste and smeared with olive oil. I came across a favorite recipe given to me by a favorite friend whom I haven’t seen in the many years since she moved to California. The recipe was on an index card, written in her own hand. “Add sour cream and parsely (fresh).” At this point she had written “Yummy!!!” Judy was always a three exclamation point person.
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My mother was a terrific housewife. But in the early sixties, when she wanted to go to work “outside the home” as we now say, she asked my father’s permission.” She assured him that nothing would change: His shirts would still be crisply ironed, the house would remain immaculate and dinner would still be on the table promptly at six.
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