This is the time of year we make my mother's famous cookies, which we call, phonetically, poo'gotch-uls. Our kids called them simply, Nana Mary's cookies. And now that's how we refer to them.
We baked 48 NMCs today. Most of them we'll take to our son tomorrow to celebrate his birthday and the rest we'll keep for ourselves. We prefer to eat our NMCs after either lunch or dinner, saving or savoring them, for later. Which is why we call by their nickname: fuh-lay'ders.
Years ago there was a small chain of Hungarian bakeries in New York called Mrs. Altman's, which used to make and sell poo'gatch-uls. I would stop there on the way home from work and buy a box. They were very good but not as good as my mother's. Alas, Mrs. Altman's stores are no more.
Happily, my mother's recipe is alive and well in our kitchen. I hope our children and/or grandchildren will want to keep the recipe alive.
Through the years, very few people we know ever heard of poo'gotch-uls. I knew they were a Hungarian delicacy so I Goggled Hungarian Cookies (at my wife's suggestion) and there they were. Here's the link, if you're interested:
http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Pog%C3%A1csa&printable=yes
The recipe stays here.
See ya. Time for a fuh-lay'der.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Friday, December 16, 2011
The NoPad
I promised I wouldn’t bore you with my mental gyrations about buying or not buying an iPad2, which I discovered is the only iPad for sale these days.
The short answer is we're not buying one. We went to the Apple store yesterday and one of their nice “geniuses” showed us the device, explained it well, demonstrated it well and impressed us with its versatility.
I particularly liked his honesty when I asked him: “Why does someone need an iPad?”
You don't need an iPad, he said, but it is handy to have and fun to use.
Good for him. At $500 a pop, not good enough for me.
No sale. End of story.
The short answer is we're not buying one. We went to the Apple store yesterday and one of their nice “geniuses” showed us the device, explained it well, demonstrated it well and impressed us with its versatility.
I particularly liked his honesty when I asked him: “Why does someone need an iPad?”
You don't need an iPad, he said, but it is handy to have and fun to use.
Good for him. At $500 a pop, not good enough for me.
No sale. End of story.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Milestone
When I started my car this morning the odometer read 9985. My pulse raced. This was the day we would crack the 10,000 mile mark.
Breathes there the man with soul so dead who doesn't thrill to the rolling of the numbers on an odometer when it's crossing a significant threshold?
When we were kids, the odometer had readouts in tenths of miles. You could see incrementally how close you were coming to a magic moment. It was difficult keeping your eyes on the road anticipating numbers rolling into history.
It's trickier today. Odometers are digital. They click by a mile at a time. You have no idea just when that click will click. By the time you're one mile short of the roll-out you really don't know when it will happen.
Since my wife and I had several stops on our rounds today we knew to keep a sharp watch. The first stop added only a few miles, not even to 9990. The second stop got us to 9995. And since we were now further from home than when we started, we knew the return trip would trip the odometer to 10000. (Note: no commas.)
The suspense built. I fought to keep my eyes on the road. At 9998 my wife leaned over to keep watch. At 9999 I made sure to drive safely since I knew where my real concentration was.
At 1:54 p.m., Thursday, Dec. 15, 2011, on Northfield Ave., just east of Old Short Hills Rd., in Livingston, NJ, my 2010 Honda Accord registered its 10000th mile.
No, it's not for sale.
Breathes there the man with soul so dead who doesn't thrill to the rolling of the numbers on an odometer when it's crossing a significant threshold?
When we were kids, the odometer had readouts in tenths of miles. You could see incrementally how close you were coming to a magic moment. It was difficult keeping your eyes on the road anticipating numbers rolling into history.
It's trickier today. Odometers are digital. They click by a mile at a time. You have no idea just when that click will click. By the time you're one mile short of the roll-out you really don't know when it will happen.
Since my wife and I had several stops on our rounds today we knew to keep a sharp watch. The first stop added only a few miles, not even to 9990. The second stop got us to 9995. And since we were now further from home than when we started, we knew the return trip would trip the odometer to 10000. (Note: no commas.)
The suspense built. I fought to keep my eyes on the road. At 9998 my wife leaned over to keep watch. At 9999 I made sure to drive safely since I knew where my real concentration was.
At 1:54 p.m., Thursday, Dec. 15, 2011, on Northfield Ave., just east of Old Short Hills Rd., in Livingston, NJ, my 2010 Honda Accord registered its 10000th mile.
No, it's not for sale.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Coffee? Please.
How do you forget a habit? Or am I confusing habit with ritual? Or habit with something I normally do before going to bed. Like setting up the coffee maker for the morning.
Last night I forgot to do that. This morning, my wife, confident that my task was done, came into the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker. When a strange odor arose from the machine she realized something was wrong. Sure enough, there was no water in the tank and thus no coffee brewing.
She was very good about not screaming at me for forgetting to prep the machine. I was embarrassed. It was only the second time in years that I neglected that chore. I blame it on blogging.
It's a nightly toss-up whether I blog first and set up the coffee second or set up the coffee first and blog second. Depends on when the muse strikes. Last night I wrote so early that I completely neglected the coffee chore.
Tonight, I did the coffee thing first so I'm blogging now.
Habit has many definitions in my dictionary. One of them is a “an act repeated so often by an individual that is has become automatic with him.”
Except when he forgets.
Last night I forgot to do that. This morning, my wife, confident that my task was done, came into the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker. When a strange odor arose from the machine she realized something was wrong. Sure enough, there was no water in the tank and thus no coffee brewing.
She was very good about not screaming at me for forgetting to prep the machine. I was embarrassed. It was only the second time in years that I neglected that chore. I blame it on blogging.
It's a nightly toss-up whether I blog first and set up the coffee second or set up the coffee first and blog second. Depends on when the muse strikes. Last night I wrote so early that I completely neglected the coffee chore.
Tonight, I did the coffee thing first so I'm blogging now.
Habit has many definitions in my dictionary. One of them is a “an act repeated so often by an individual that is has become automatic with him.”
Except when he forgets.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
The Got-Done List
Everyone has a to-do list. It's on all your electronic devices and it's one of those things that supposedly never gets completed. Like the in-box that's never empty.
Today I did a Got-Done list. Simply put, I put my to-do list in my pocket, got in the car and within an hour of zipping here and there, everything on the list was done.
True, I didn't exactly create peace in the Middle East or solve the world's economic problems, but I did gas up my car, put air in its tires, got it washed, made a bank deposit, returned a magazine to our dentist, returned a book to the library, changed an outside light bulb and paid a bill on line.
After a brief break, I went to lunch with an old colleague from our CBS days. We ate, we chatted, we enjoyed each other's company and departed with best wishes for the holiday season and the New Year.
I was home by mid-afternoon and caught up with my wife's activities. We canceled further activities in favor of afternoon naps. Retiring to our respective couches we slept until dinner time.
An exhausting Got-Done Day.
Wednesday's to-do list is on my desk.
Today I did a Got-Done list. Simply put, I put my to-do list in my pocket, got in the car and within an hour of zipping here and there, everything on the list was done.
True, I didn't exactly create peace in the Middle East or solve the world's economic problems, but I did gas up my car, put air in its tires, got it washed, made a bank deposit, returned a magazine to our dentist, returned a book to the library, changed an outside light bulb and paid a bill on line.
After a brief break, I went to lunch with an old colleague from our CBS days. We ate, we chatted, we enjoyed each other's company and departed with best wishes for the holiday season and the New Year.
I was home by mid-afternoon and caught up with my wife's activities. We canceled further activities in favor of afternoon naps. Retiring to our respective couches we slept until dinner time.
An exhausting Got-Done Day.
Wednesday's to-do list is on my desk.
The Worst Time
The worst time for conversation is just before going to bed. We do it all the time.
We spend a quiet evening reading the papers, watching television, falling asleep on the couch and THEN, when it's time to close up for the night we start organizing files, discussing the next day's activities, making to-do lists and sometimes getting on each other's nerves when we can't decide on A or B. (And, by the way, writing my blog.)
How silly is that? If you're tired save it for tomorrow. Then again, it's nice to plan ahead. Gives you a sense of control of your upcoming day. Sometimes the to-do list gets a little crowded and then you wonder if you'll have time for everything.
Then again, what's the hurry? Chances are whatever it is can wait a day or even two. Like "registering" our new washer and dryer. The forms have been sitting on my desk for over a week. Why do we have to "register" these things anyway?
What if we didn't register? Would the registration police knock on our doors and demand the model and serial numbers of our new products?
How's this for a new product: Registration Protection. No pat-downs, no strip searches. No personal intrusions. But you have to register for it.
We spend a quiet evening reading the papers, watching television, falling asleep on the couch and THEN, when it's time to close up for the night we start organizing files, discussing the next day's activities, making to-do lists and sometimes getting on each other's nerves when we can't decide on A or B. (And, by the way, writing my blog.)
How silly is that? If you're tired save it for tomorrow. Then again, it's nice to plan ahead. Gives you a sense of control of your upcoming day. Sometimes the to-do list gets a little crowded and then you wonder if you'll have time for everything.
Then again, what's the hurry? Chances are whatever it is can wait a day or even two. Like "registering" our new washer and dryer. The forms have been sitting on my desk for over a week. Why do we have to "register" these things anyway?
What if we didn't register? Would the registration police knock on our doors and demand the model and serial numbers of our new products?
How's this for a new product: Registration Protection. No pat-downs, no strip searches. No personal intrusions. But you have to register for it.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Heading South
We had sort of a farewell lunch yesterday with a couple who are leaving for Florida this week for the winter. They, in turn, had dinner with another couple of stay-at-homes the night before. I dubbed it the snowbirds farewell tour.
Another of our acquaintances is already tucked in Florida for the duration. Others will be joining them soon. We will not.
Yes, it will be cold for the next several months so we will dress accordingly like everyone else in the northeast. And we will put up with snow and whatever other winter weather comes our way.
Fortunately, we're retired so we don't have the hassle of commuting during bad weather. But we will be keeping our eyes out for any snow shoveling crews that offer (for a price, of course) to clear our driveway and walks. That will let us get out and about as necessary.
Otherwise, it's just a case of hunkering down and muddling through as best we can.
After all, 'tis the season to be freezin'.
Another of our acquaintances is already tucked in Florida for the duration. Others will be joining them soon. We will not.
Yes, it will be cold for the next several months so we will dress accordingly like everyone else in the northeast. And we will put up with snow and whatever other winter weather comes our way.
Fortunately, we're retired so we don't have the hassle of commuting during bad weather. But we will be keeping our eyes out for any snow shoveling crews that offer (for a price, of course) to clear our driveway and walks. That will let us get out and about as necessary.
Otherwise, it's just a case of hunkering down and muddling through as best we can.
After all, 'tis the season to be freezin'.
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