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Thursday, December 26, 2002 |
Hark, the Herald Tribune sings, advertising wondrous things...
We did get to spend a few hours on Christmas Eve with John and Mary Ellen and the kids. The kids were a blast. Jo came racing out and tackled us, while her brother, who's three years younger, hopped awkwardly around trying to get past her and grab us for himself. Jo is enthusiastically affectionate and for a while, Lucy and I referred to her as the "linebacker of love". They waited patiently till we were sitting down and eating cookies with their parents before August sidled up to me, full of second-grader guile, and asked oh-so-casually, "do you happen to have any presents in that bag?" We took a break for gift unwrapping before having slices of Mary Ellen's potica (one of those things I will never make, as to my mind the basic recipe starts with finding a church patronized by Eastern European immigrants and waiting for a fund-raiser).
Mary Ellen put her potica recipe together in a book of some of her and John's favorite recipes (John: "we're recreational cooks"), which was their gift to friends this year.
