The gifters
Our house has gone to the elves. There’s a fiber fever afoot and every nook and closet is hiding a secret stash of gifts half-made. There’s a glam ruffled tote to match Lara’s new coat, once I find another handbag handle. I’m midway through mohair gauntlets for my geezer aunt who’s so “green” she shuns central heat, if only I can find where I stuffed the pattern. For toddling Georgia, I’ve got the arms and legs of a cashmere bunny with a fluffy pink tutu and for baby Clint, half a cozy, “love-y” blanket made of yarn so light it will flutter behind him when he starts to crawl.
If I ever steal a free afternoon, I’ll whip up Christmas red sweaters for our Yorkies. I’m even cabling a red-and-white alpaca elf cap to reward the “happy hooker” in the house, Tika, for crafting her way to a Christmas holiday. She’s our grad student from the Caucasus who arrived with a knack for needling with a hook. In an old Vogue, she found a retro-sexy crocheted cloche and announced, “I can make that!” Now, she’s whipping up hats in mascot colors for loyal Trojans and Bruins who pay her well for their Big Game style points.
All this fiber frenzy started and ends in a good cause. When I was little and out shopping with my mother, she taught me her first principle of Christmas: The Rule of Four -a gift for you and a gift for me; one for the pot and one for someone really worth-ee. It worked like this. Whenever my mother bought a present for a family member or friend, she’d spy a little something for herself and buy it, put it under the tree and be oh-so surprised on Christmas morning that Santa brought just the perfect thing. She taught me to treat myself well, but also that Christmas was about giving-giving without getting. All during the holidays, my mother stuffed dollar bills in her pocket to drop in a bell-ringer’s pot, wrote checks to charity and gave to Toys for Tots. She lugged bags of food to shelters and had us stir 50-gallon pots of soup while she tested for seasoning with as much care as in her own kitchen.
I meditate over these moments as I knit each knot of cashmere in a scarf for Bill. Knitting was a gift handed down to me by my grandmother who taught me the craft as a lesson in charity. As she guided soft yarn through my clumsy young fingers, Gran spun stories worthy of Dickens about cold, hungry children halfway around the world. When my squares were sewn together, she told me, they’d keep an orphan warm through the night.
So, in gratitude, and remembering my mother’s Christmas rules, every fourth project I make is a gift for someone unknown who needs love in a bit of yarn. This year’s gifts are for African AIDS orphans, youngsters in need of hugs. The Mother Bear Project sends them to the children in the form of hand-knit bears embroidered with bright red hearts (www.motherbear-project.org). The toy pattern, along with other worthy projects and organizations, is in Knitting for Peace by Betty Christiansen.
While I’m madly knitting “big” gifts that I craft with a prayer that they might be worthy heirlooms passed on to the yet unborn, I think about an alternate path to gifting: cooking gone-in-a-flash treats that linger on in sugar plum memories.
A dear friend of mine, John Mays, asked me for one. He had a memory from holidays past, a special something his wife had made. John found her recipe and asked if I might make it for him. Of course I would. Enjoy!
Candied Orange Peel
Adapted from “How to Cook Everything” by Mark Bittman.
2 medium jars
6 large oranges
2 cups sugar plus 1/2 cup sugar, spun superfine*
2 Tbs. light corn syrup
1. Score the orange skin and peel the fruit. Reserve 1 cup juice.
2. In a heavy saucepan, cover peels with cold water and bring to a boil. Simmer until tender. Drain, reserving 1/2 cup of liquid.
3. Scrape off the white pulp and cut peel into strips.
4. Bring 2 cups sugar and corn syrup to a boil with the liquids. Use a candy thermometer. Cook to 236 degrees, soft ball. Return peels to the pan and simmer until most of the syrup has been absorbed. Cool peels in the pan.
5. * If you bought superfine sugar, skip this step; if not, process the sugar for a minute to eliminate excess crunch.
6. With tongs, lift a few peels at a time, drain, toss in sugar and dry on a rack until no longer sticky.
7. Store in airtight jars and wrap with a pretty ribbon. It’s a lovely gift.The gifters