Wrapped in childhood comforts
By Jody Stump
Muscle memory is an odd thing. The left-side of the brain is a didactic chatterbox that sits in judgment, giving the body instructions that work about as well as a bike assembly, but the right-brain seems to understand rhythms and, once the muscles come in contact with some familiar sensation, decades of rust can fall from one’s fingers and toes. It was that way with skating and now it’s with knitting. And, instead of my brain thinking instructions like “yarn over, needle under the loop, pull apart,” it drifts into reverie, sweet stories of good times when I first felt the silken threads.
This week, I picked up a fat pair of needles and began to wrap yarn around them, casting on hundreds of stitches to begin a blanket for a sick child. Around the third row, my needles began to clack with assurance and just the whisper of needles sliding past one another conjured up memories of my first blanket. Soft and almost fragile as Kleenex, it was a wonder in pink and white with long tassels and tiny lambs knitted into the wool with bumpy knots for fleece. I carried it everywhere and my mother used to say that my earliest rite of passage was the funeral we had when I went to kindergarten and we buried my “Baa” in the backyard.
One day, not long after, my grandmother came to visit with her usual clutter of porter-toted trunks and monogrammed cases. She seldom carried more than a handbag, but this time she had a large lumpy bundle in a puffy silk reticule smothered under her arm like a football. “After dinner, you’ll see,” she promised.
I squirmed through the meal, thinking surely it was for me. Her eyes were merry when we sat down head to head, the scent of Joy a wave around us. Like a magician with a hat, she reached into the bag and pulled out, not a rabbit, but a skein of purple yarn and a pair of carved wooden needles. Like magic, she twisted and wound the yarn until it sheathed the stick and then picked up the other needle and started to knit, all the time telling me strange, dark tales about children in war-torn Hungary with no clothes to wear nor blankets for sleeping. This was to be one square of a blanket. Together, we would make another square and then another and soon we would have enough to sew together and mail to a cold and hungry child. So we sat, hour after hour, stitching together warm blankets for people who needed them.
Today, I am knitting in that tradition for another child in need. Project Linus is a volunteer organization started in 1995 by a Denver mom, Karen Loucks, who decided to send a homemade security blanket to a child who needed a “hug.” Today, they have distributed nearly 800,000 blankets, quilts and afghans. There is a big day coming up on Feb. 21, the Fifth Annual Make a Blanket Day, so start yours today.
Blanquette de Veau – the easy way
Serves 6
Veal may have been Gran’s favorite dish – at least, it’s one we always had when she came. This recipe is an adaptation of a classic Julia Child introduced to the American masses. Was it really 40 years ago that we curled up in front of the “tube” and watched rapt while Julia sweated, chopped and stirred?
4 lbs. boneless veal, cubed
Stick of butter
1/2 tsp. cloves
1 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 tsp thyme
5 Tbs. flour
1 onion, chopped
2 cups carrots, chopped
4 cups chicken or veal stock
1 cup dry vermouth
4 Tbs. Calvados
1/2 lb. fresh mushrooms, sliced
4 leeks, white parts sliced
3/4 cup heavy cream
Salt and white pepper
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Melt half the butter in a Dutch oven and toss the veal to coat. Stir together 3 Tbs. of flour with herbs and spices. Sprinkle over the veal and cook over low heat five minutes.
3. Add carrots, onions, vermouth and stock. Bring to a boil, cover and bake for an hour until fork-tender. Let stand until cool. Strain the meat and vegetables, reserving stock, tossing out the veggies and setting aside the veal. Add Calvados and reduce stock by half. (This dish can be prepared to this point and chilled overnight).
4. Braise leeks by layering them in a skillet and pouring 1/2 cup of stock over them. Cover and simmer 20 minutes. Add mushrooms and cook 10 more minutes.
5. Make a veloute by melting the remaining butter in a heavy pan and whisking with flour for two minutes. Whisk in hot stock and stir constantly until thick. Drain in the juice from the leeks and simmer 10 minutes. Whisk in cream; add veal and braised vegetables. Adjust seasonings and serve.