“You made bread pudding?”
“Even better.”
“Better than bread pudding?”
“Hard to believe, but yes. Your mama is coming home.”
Anthony jumped up, his ice cream dripped. Then he sat back down. He sat next to Vikki and didn’t say anything. It was as if he were waiting. She waited, too. She waited for him to ask her, but when minutes went by and he didn’t ask, she said, “In two weeks or so.”
Still he didn’t ask.
“She’s bringing your dad home, too, Ant. Your daddy’s coming home.”
Anthony didn’t say anything for a long while. He finished his ice cream, and they got up, and started walking home. Then Anthony spoke. Reaching up and taking Vikki’s hand, he said, “Better make some bread pudding for him, Vikki.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Deer Isle
Tatiana wished they could have days when they would never leave their tiny room. Because usually Alexander left early in the morning and didn’t come back until he was worn-out and filthy after pulling up lobster traps for twelve hours.
But some evenings he read the paper to her and they went to sit on the bench by the bay to watch the sea gulls squabble for their own dinner. There were nights he was ravenous and days he was thirsty, and there were some nights when he lay turned away and could not bring himself to turn to her, when she kissed his bare back and wiped her own salty tears off his shoulders and whispered to his disconsolate soul, trying to soothe him, to soothe herself and failing that, lay behind him and cried.
“It’s all a dream,” he would whisper on those black nights. “It will all be gone, in a breath. Watch and see. All this, all this want and hope, washed into the Atlantic. Just watch.”
“I can’t tell, Alexander, are we happy?” she asked, her crying breath melting into his back. “Is this what we are? Delirious from joy?”
“Yes, this is the slow falling away into the land of enchantment.”
She fell into silence.
“Ya lyublyu tebya, Tania.”
“Jägälskar dig, Shura.”
Tatiana didn’t cook much worth remembering in Deer Isle, except for lobsters, and breakfast for him. He was so distressingly underweight, so gaunt in his face and body that she tried to make him a breakfast before he went out on the boat, a breakfast big enough and filling enough to tide him over till lunch. She got up at four in the morning to make him toasted muffins with bacon or ham, fried egg and melted cheese, and something she called a soldier’s breakfast, which Alexander seemed to actually like because he sometimes asked for it, even when it wasn’t breakfast.
Tania’s Soldier’s Breakfast
4 large, all-purpose potatoes, about 1lb (450g)
½ cup (120ml) canola oil
2 tablespoons butter
4 eggs
1 long, thick stick of Italian bread
butter
salt and pepper, to taste
Peel the potatoes and dice them into small cubes. In a heavy-bottom pan heat ½ cup (120ml) canola oil and 2 tablespoons butter. When oil is very hot, add the potatoes, and cook on medium-high, stirring often, uncovered, for 15 minutes, until brown and crispy. Salt and pepper generously. When the potatoes are done, break four eggs over the top, salt them slightly, and cover to cook quickly, about 2 minutes.
Meanwhile, scoop out the inside of the crusty bread and toast lightly. Spoon the potato/egg mixture into the bread cavity. Eat. Breakfast of soldiers. Tatiana’s soldier, back from the dead, went on the lobster boat in his tall rubber boots and his orange coveralls and didn’t need anything else till the sun was at full noon.
CHAPTER SIX
Aunt Esther’s Thanksgiving
Little by little things got better. After they left Deer Isle, the three of them drove down to Esther’s where, as always, Esther made a feast, never forgetting to tell Tatiana that back when Alexander lived in Massachusetts with his family, this is what they would have every Thanksgiving. “Isn’t that right, Alexander, darling?”
“Yes, Aunt Esther.”
“We used to have such great Thanksgivings, didn’t we?”
“Yes, Aunt Esther.”
“Well, except that once when your father was in jail, and we couldn’t bail him out in time. But otherwise very good, no?”
“Yes, otherwise very good.”
And Aunt Esther would cry: “Your poor dad, Alexander.”
“Yes. My mother, too.”
“Of course, of course.” But somehow Esther stiffened, as if secretly blaming Jane Barrington for the turn of events that took away her only brother and his only son and brought them to the Soviet Union, as if blaming her instead of blaming him for setting off a chain of events that led to their deaths because, in Esther’s eyes, no matter how culpable he was, Harold would remain eternally blameless.
Tatiana kept careful watch, and helped Esther with dinner. She made the plum glaze for the turkey, cut the leeks for the stuffing, mashed the potatoes, made the gravy and the glaze for the sweet potatoes, and assembled the pumpkin pie. She added her own touch to the sweet potatoes, putting in a little orange juice and marshmallows on top—“For Anthony,” she said, and Alexander said, “Not just for Ant. I love marshmallows.”
“Tania, these sweet potatoes are exquisite,” said Esther. “Did you put orange juice in them? Nice. Where did you learn how to cook?”
Ah, the infernal question. “New York has many fine cooks,” replied Tatiana.
“Alexander, you are going to be one well-fed husband. You’ll never be hungry.”
Both Tania and Alexander looked down into their plates, filled with food, and forced their minds away from the things they could not forget. “That’s true, Aunt Esther,” said Alexander. “Once I was hungry, but Tania fed me.”
“Well, then, I don’t understand why you’re still so thin. Tania, maybe you’re not feeding him enough.”
“Esther, the man never stops eating.”
The man gave her a sideways glance.
“Why is he so thin then? Give him more, Tania. Give him more.”
“Yes, Tania, I want some more.”
And Tatiana cried.
Aunt Esther, now perfectly composed, said, “No, this girl—the waterworks are permanently turned on.”
Roast Turkey
Later and on her own, Tatiana learned the hard way—defrost the turkey completely before cooking. This was the part of cooking the turkey that she kept forgetting, and once the fateful day arrived, it was too late. Leaving the turkey in the refrigerator was not enough—the turkey is an igloo, insulating the ice inside. On the day of the feast, she discovered that the turkey was perfectly soft on the outside while the inside remained solid. And when she cooked it, the outside became crisp—too crisp—then burnt, and the inside was red, pink, inedible. Turkey wasn’t beef tenderloin. She couldn’t leave a nice red center for the guests that liked their fowl rare. Since then she made sure it was defrosted through and through. On cooking day, she took it out of the fridge ninety minutes ahead of putting it in the oven. She guaranteed herself a moist, beautifully cooked turkey with a great red-golden glaze.
1 turkey, about 16–20lb (7.2–9kg), giblets removed
small onion, or 1 leek, or a handful of shallots, roughly chopped
1 tablespoon whole peppercorns
2 carrots, roughly chopped
about 6–7 tablespoons butter
1 teaspoon dried thyme
For the glaze:
4 tablespoons butter
½ teaspoon dried thyme
2 tablespoons water
salt and pepper, to taste
5oz (150g) dark jam, plum, cherry, raspberry
For the gravy:
6 tablespoons butter
6 tablespoons flour
Preheat oven to 415°F (210°C).
Take out giblets, wash turkey, pat dry. Don’t throw giblets out, except for the liver. Place them in a medium saucepan with 2 cups of water, bring to the boil, turn down heat and simmer for an
hour. You’ll use the broth for gravy. Inside the empty cavity of the turkey place roughly cut up onion, carrots, peppercorns, salt and thyme. Tatiana also places a few dabs of butter inside and two ice cubes.
In a small bowl combine ¼ cup (50g) melted butter, add salt, mix well, brush all over the turkey.
Place the turkey on a rack inside a roasting pan and roast for 30 minutes. Meanwhile make the glaze. In a small pan, combine ¼ cup (50g) butter, salt, thyme, peppercorns, water, and 5 oz (150g) of jam. Bring to boil, reduce heat, and stirring occasionally cook for 10 minutes. Strain glaze through a sieve into a small bowl.
After 30 minutes, reduce heat for the turkey to 325°F (170°C), and baste with the plum glaze. Continue to cook, basting every 30 minutes or so, until the turkey thermometer pops out, or until the instant-read thermometer inserted into thickest part of breast, but not touching the bone, reads 165°F (74°C). Turkey will continue to cook after being taken out while it composes on your holiday table. Reserve the juices at bottom of pan for gravy. Leave the turkey out for 20–25 minutes while you prepare your gravy and vegetables. It looks beautiful on your table, but if you wish, you can cover it with aluminum foil to keep it from getting too cold.
Carve and serve with mashed potatoes (here), leek and bacon stuffing (here), cranberry jelly, string beans and gravy.
Gravy:
Remember the giblets you were cooking? Well, now you have delicious stock for gravy. Strain it through a mesh sieve, then add to the juices at the bottom of the roasting pan, and mix well until all the brown bits are absorbed into the broth. Strain again through a sieve, so that you’re left with just dark, thick, smooth liquid.
In a heavy-bottom medium pan, melt 5 tablespoons butter on medium heat. Add 5 tablespoons all-purpose (plain) flour, and stir nonstop for 3–4 minutes. Slowly add the turkey stock to the roux, turn up the heat a little, and continue mixing until well-thickened and bubbles form at the sides. Don’t boil. Makes about 5 cups.
Esther’s Mashed Potatoes
The secret to these mashed potatoes is using half-and-half or light cream instead of milk. Tania’s guests asked for seconds and thirds, finally admitting that they were the best mashed potatoes they’d ever had. There were some other things Tatiana did to flavor the potatoes. She served them on all holidays, with her Russian meat cutlets, and with turkey. She served them with beef tenderloin, and on top of shepherd’s pie.
5lb (2.25kg) all-purpose potatoes, peeled and quartered
1 medium onion, peeled and left whole
2 garlic cloves, peeled and left whole
1 bay leaf
2 carrots, peeled or unpeeled
1 pint (600ml) half-and-half or light cream
1¼ sticks (150g) butter, melted
salt and pepper, to taste
Place potatoes along with onion, garlic, bay leaf and carrots into large pot and fill with water till just covered. Add salt.
Bring to boil, cover, reduce heat to medium or medium-low and simmer until potatoes are soft but not mushy, about 25 minutes. Drain and leave in colander. Discard the onion, garlic, bay leaf, carrots.
Meanwhile, heat the cream and melt butter. Put the potatoes through a ricer, into a serving bowl. With a ricer, unlike an electric beater, Tatiana got perfect, lump free mashed potatoes that were never like glue. After ricing the potatoes, add the cream and mix well with a wooden spoon. Add the melted butter and mix again. Adjust seasoning.
Bacon and Leek Stuffing
This replaced all other stuffing at Esther’s table, it replaced all other stuffing at Tatiana’s table, and it will replace all other stuffing at yours, too. Oh, you’ll be tempted to get store-bought or to make your own with sausage and cornbread (also good). But soon it will become plainly apparent by the reaction of your guests that there’s something about the combination of leeks and bacon with the thyme and turkey, the crunchiness of the stuffing, the aroma and the taste, that makes all other stuffings obsolete. This is the one thing Tatiana was always asked to bring when she asked if she could bring something. This and the Macaroni and Cheese with ham and bacon.
1 oval country white loaf
4 tablespoons butter
4–5 long thick leeks
2 garlic cloves, very finely chopped
4–5 medium carrots, thinly sliced
salt and pepper, to taste
thyme
10 slices bacon, cooked crisp and crumbled
1¼ cups (275ml) chicken stock
1 cup (225ml) milk
Cut the bread into cubes about 1-in (2.5 cm) thick and bake on a cookie sheet (baking tray) at 375°F (190°C) until golden and crispy, about 20 minutes. Empty into a large mixing bowl.
Meanwhile, wash leeks thoroughly, cut off the green part, leaving only the white, slice lengthwise to split the stalk in two, then cut into ½-in (1 cm) pieces.
Melt butter in a large, heavy-bottom frying pan. Add leeks, cook on medium about 7 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add garlic, carrots, salt, pepper, thyme and cook 5–7 minutes more. Add cooked, crumbled bacon, stir, take off the heat.
Add the leek mixture to the bread, add chicken stock and milk, and mix well. Turn out into a well greased rectangular 13×9in (32.5×23 cm) pan. Bake in a 350°F (180°C) oven about 45 minutes until crispy and crunchy on top.
Sweet Potatoes
There was no Thanksgiving for Tatiana without sweet potatoes. This recipe came from her friend Phil, an orderly at Ellis, who went to Montreal, Canada, for his master’s, came back with no master’s but with this recipe, and after trying it Tatiana declared that Montreal was worth it. The rum, orange juice and marshmallows are extra. Tatiana could do without the marshmallows, but not the rum. But Alexander and Anthony couldn’t do without the marshmallows. You can always make two batches, one traditionally Canadian, and one like dessert.
Traditional:
4 large sweet potatoes
5 tablespoons butter
5 tablespoons dark maple syrup
5 tablespoons light brown sugar
Optional:
¼ cup (55ml) orange juice
¼ cup (55ml) dark rum
1 cup (50g) mini marshmallows
Peel the sweet potatoes. You might want to quarter them before cooking. Place potatoes in water, bring to boil, simmer for 25 minutes. Drain and arrange in one layer in an ovenproof dish.
In a small saucepan, heat butter, maple syrup, and brown sugar, bring to boil, simmer for 3–5 minutes, then pour over the potatoes, and bake for 45 minutes in a 350°F (180°C) oven. In the last 15 minutes, you can add orange juice, rum, and marshmallows. Serve with turkey.
Punkin Pie
This was the recipe Rosa made when Anthony said he wanted some “punkin pie” in the summer.
This was the recipe Tatiana made when Alexander said, hmm, I wouldn’t mind some pumpkin pie tonight. In twenty minutes of prep, an hour of baking, and maybe half hour of cooling, he would be eating the pie with a spoon right out of the pie dish while she would be muttering, “Wait for the whipped cream. Wait for the whipped cream.”
Crust:
1¼ cup (110g) finely crumbled graham crackers or other semi-sweet biscuits
¼ cup (50g) sugar
3 tablespoons butter, melted
Pumpkin Filling:
15oz (425g) canned pumpkin purée or cooked, mashed pumpkin
2 eggs
¼ cup (50g) sugar
⅛ teaspoon ground nutmeg
⅛ teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 cup (225ml) heavy cream
Preheat oven to 375°F (190°C) 20 minutes before cooking.
In a small bowl combine the graham crackers with the sugar and melted butter and mix through thoroughly. Press mixture into a pie dish with your fingers, pressing down hard and shaping it three-quarters up the sides.
In a medium bowl, beat pumpkin purée with eggs, sugar, nutmeg, and cinnamon.
In another medium bowl, whip heavy cream until stiff peaks form, and fold into pumpkin mixture. Pour fillin
g into crust. Bake for 45 minutes or until toothpick inserted off the center comes out clean. Cool before serving with whipped cream. It might not last until it’s cool. Refrigerate leftovers.
But after punkin pie, after sweet potatoes, after bacon and leek stuffing, after a month of playing in the snow and living with Aunt Esther, it was time to go. It was time to live on their own, time to make it on their own. Time for Tatiana to cook for her family again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Miami by the Sea
After they had a place to hang their hat and Tatiana could cook for him again, she kept asking if she could make him lazy cabbage. But he kept saying no.
“Please don’t make cabbage, Tania.”
“What about cabbage pie?”
“No,” said Alexander. “No more cabbage pie for us.”
She wanted to cry. “But we cook potatoes,” she tried.
“So? And what do potatoes have to do with anything?”
“What does cabbage?”
“I can’t explain. You wouldn’t understand.”
She understood. With a bowed and saddened head, she understood. Things happened to him at war that forever changed things.
In the warmth of the azure sea and the humid air, far away from the memories of ice and snow, though, as it turned out, not far away enough, Tatiana had a houseboat she could call her own, with a tiny oven in which she could make some of the things she thought her war-torn husband might like. He worked all day on the Miami boats while she played with Anthony and thought up things to cook for him that might make him happy. He was always hungry, he always ate. He was gaining a little weight, wasn’t looking as gaunt. Day by day, night by night, little by little, she tried restoring him. And restoring him was thus restoring her.