the dove’s tale – a mother’s day story

Posted on May 10, 2012 by ileana

May 11, 2003, on the anniversary of my mother’s birth in the year of her death, I was walking home with my daughter Camelia in the late afternoon sun. The street trees in front of the apartment building were heavy with brand new leaves. They cast dappled shadows on the sidewalk in front of our door, so that at first we did not see the little dove standing there. We approached her slowly and she did not move. We were surprised that she let us get so close. Suddenly, she flew up like a helicopter into the tree. She was clumsy and it was clear she was not used to flying. She then soared off the tree and slammed into the garden fence. This stunned her and she fell to the ground. I was able to pick her up. I cupped her in my hands and brought her inside. While Camelia unlocked our front door, the little dove’s pupils dilated wildly with fear and her head turned all the way around like Regan in the Exorcist. I told Camelia to go fetch the dog kennel from the basement to put her in. The dove was home.

My mother had a ringneck dove she named Cucu. She and my father found the dove sitting on the hood of their car in the garage one cold morning in late autumn. They could see that it was not a wild animal and it would not make it through the coming winter outdoors. Like mine, it was an escaped pet. The dove allowed them to capture him and cup him in their hands and bring him inside. Cucu became a beloved pet who had free range of my parent’s house. When my mother died, a friend of hers who lived alone promised us that she would let Cucu fly free in her house and so she took him in. At the time, it seemed for the best. But I secretly regretted not having taken Cucu myself.

At the time of our dove’s arrival, it was the first mother’s day I would experience without my mother. The dove is a presence. A gift. She is a balm to my heart.

the brick

Posted on May 1, 2012 by ileana

The brick wall in the hallway looks different now just from the coat of the stucco veneziano in bluish teal. It is as though the brick has come alive. Oona, ever the artist, said “Of course it has come alive, that is the magic of a complementary color”. I see the brick in all its glory for the first time. Every color in every brick and every stroke of the blue plaster pops. I can see nuance in the brick colors that before were in shadow. I see russet colors, greys, creams and even lavenders. This brick was probably laid between the mid-1800’s to the late 1800’s during the boom time in the Lower East Side of New York. As homesteaders in the early 1980s, we unearthed this brick in the interior walls. It was covered in a century’s worth of plaster and wallpaper. We chipped the layers away by hand with a hammer and chisel for a long time till we got to the pure brick. We didn’t work on our individual apartments, we worked collectively, so we were on plaster chipping duties on these walls for months.

I was shitty carpenter. I was bad at measuring and I wasted wood, so I was put on mortar duty. Mortar is more forgiving. The mortar crew was headed up by Smitty, who was an experienced construction worker and he trained a small team of us. We did all of the brickwork in the building. In the warm weather, homesteaders with older kids would bring them in and corral them in a safe part of the building while they worked. I kept an eye on them while I mixed cement. Then they started helping me mix. They made a game of it. We kept the mortar crew supplied with bucket after bucket of cement.

All around us buildings were coming down, victims of the criminal neglect of the landlords who had abandoned them. When a building was torn down, the homesteaders in the vicinity would spread the word and we would all head over there to rescue the brick. We had an enormous canvas mail cart that had been confiscated from a post office. The mortar crew would wheel this cart out and head over to the fallen building. We would find other homesteaders, squatters and gardeners there also rescuing the brick and the stone. We would pick through the rubble to find intact bricks and then stack them on the first floor like cordwood. Our building was restored with the bones of other buildings that didn’t make it.

homesteader, photo by David Schmidlapp. www.lapphoto.com

color testing with katy

Posted on April 24, 2012 by ileana

Katy has a very good eye for color. I was determined not to make another color blunder, so I lured her over here with the promise of a relaxing afternoon pouring over a stack of paint chips and a nice lunch. Katy examines each paint chip intently and shuffles them like a deft croupier. She flutters around the rooms holding them up against curtains and in different kinds of light. She is honest and precise. We marvel at the technology we can use to enhance the search. We play around with color apps. Then, we go to the computer and pull up the Benjamin Moore color search tool. We decline going through the rigamaroll of registering on the site so that we can choose favorites. Instead, Katy says “open up a bunch of windows so we can look at the colors side by side”.

She thinks that our first idea for the living room color needs to change now that the entryway is a medium teal blue. We originally had a color in the blue family in mind for the living room. Now she thinks maybe a fresh green would be the ticket. We agree. We take a trip to the paint store for in-person color selection.

The master bedroom walls are painted in Benjamin Moore Venetian Marble. It is a pale color that is almost luminescent and is impossible to name. It changes with the light. Sometimes it is the palest lavender, sometime grey and sometimes it has a pink glow so that it is almost like the inside of a seashell. It is a gorgeous color and someday I will use that color again in my house. But now, I feel the bedroom should be darker and cocoon-like. Katy suggests a dark lavender. We test. I like Benjamin Moore’s Queen’s Wreath.

Painting by Anne Delaney

Katy is still pondering what color I should paint the metal apartment door that will complement the teal blue stucco veneziano in the entryway. What do you think? Can you beat her to the punch?

oona makes mangú

Posted on April 16, 2012 by ileana

Mangú is mashed plantains. Green plantains are starchy like a potato, so the dish is like mashed potatoes except that it goes particularly well with eggs and is very filling. For that reason, many people really like it for breakfast. It is a great side dish for brunch.

Plantains are an important food staple in tropical regions of the world because the trees fruit all year long and they are very high in potassium and other vitamins and minerals. They are versatile and can be eaten green, or ripe. They can be an appetizer, main dish, side dish or dessert. They can be mashed, fried, baked, grilled or added to other foods in many creative and delicious ways. My ex-mother-in-law taught me how to make it. Mangú is what they call mashed plantains in the Dominican Republic. In Cuba, they call it Fufú and in Puerto Rico it is known as Mofongo. There are many ways to make it, all of them, delicious. Sometimes pork is added. My mother-in-law’s version is vegetarian, made with lots of sauteed garlic, red and green peppers and onions.

I’d just seen the first ramps (wild leeks) at the Union Square Greenmarket. Truly a sign of spring, ramps feel like the first fresh leafy food to appear in the northeast that does not come from a greenhouse. I bought two bunches.

Oona decided to use the ramps for the mangú because onions are not her friend. Since she doesn’t like peppers either, the mangú was just plantains, ramps and lots of garlic. The flavor of the ramps is delicate so that the plantains were the star.

Here is Oona’s recipe for Mangú with Ramps

4 green plantains, peeled and cut into chunks about 3 inches long
1 lime or lemon
lots of garlic
1 bunch of ramps (about 2 cups chopped)
good olive oil to taste
salt and pepper to taste

Boil the plantains until they can easily be pierced by a fork (just like a potato) in salted water with a lime or lemon cut in half.

Chop the ramps (cut off the roots) and use both the green leaves and white bulb and mince your garlic. Sauté the garlic (don’t let it brown) and lightly sauté the ramps till the greens are wilted but still bright.

Drain the cooked plantain chunks and save some of the water. Mash the plantains, adding some of the plantain water to moisten. Add as much olive oil as you like. Add the sauteed ramps and garlic. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve hot. If you have leftovers, reheat by steaming or microwaving with a bit of water to soften the plantain mash.

Serves six

cut the plantains into 3 inch chunks for boiling

chop the ramps and mince the garlic

a healthy spring brunch: turkey sausage, eggs and mangu

loisaida spring

Posted on April 2, 2012 by ileana

Loisaida is blooming. We have the highest concentration of community gardens in the US. Here is a peek at our spring.

budding weeping willow at the Plaza Cultural de Armando Perez on Loisaida Ave

jasmine blooms heavy with scent

Plaza Cultural de Armando Perez gazebo

a tale of two (okay, three) martinis

Posted on March 28, 2012 by ileana

On a lazy grey Sunday afternoon at the cocktail hour, I invite my friend Raquel to test drive my new Nick and Nora cocktail glasses. Martinis are Raquel’s favorite cocktail. She was skeptical about the glasses at first (before they were filled). Then she seemed to warm up to them. We decided to concoct a variety of martinis. I like vermouth. Raquel does not. She does that wash of vermouth over the glass thing and that is it. We did not follow James Bond’s tenet and we stirred ours instead of using the cocktail shaker. I heard that stirring makes it colder and does not cloud the drink. We cracked the ice that we used for stirring because supposedly the jagged edges will create more surface of cold ice to chill the drink to the maximum. We chilled our Nick and Nora glasses with ice and seltzer because Raquel says the seltzer makes it colder.

I had some things on hand for martini enhancement. Adam’s Ranch Dirty Martini Mix that I picked up at the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market. It is very high quality olive brine. I also have Arthur Marc’s Queen Olives stuffed with bleu cheese made in beautiful Schoharie County, New York. I buy these at the hardware store in the charming town of Middleburgh. These olives are delicious, fat and overstuffed with very good bleu cheese.

To start, Raquel chose a vodka martini with a wash of vermouth and jalapeño stuffed olives. Raquel would not touch the bleu cheese olives because as a kid she milked goats. She hates billy goats and anything reminiscent of their smell. She liked the kick the jalapeño olives gave her martini. I like vermouth, so mine was 2 ounces gin and 1-ounce vermouth with 1-teaspoon dirty martini mix (olive brine). The three ounces fit perfectly in the Nick and Nora glasses. I had the pungent bleu cheese stuffed olives in mine.

martinis with olives and the draco malfoy martinis with pickle juice

Next, we try a drink concocted by my favorite cocktail blogger Nancy Mitchell of The Backyard Bartender. She did a very creative series of Harry Potter inspired cocktails. We decided to make the Draco Malfoy, a martini made with pickle juice. Nancy says it is just like Draco “smooth, sleek and just a little bit nasty”. We used pickle juice from The Pickle Guys on the Lower Eastside. They will sell you a couple of scoopfuls of prime pickle juice straight out of the barrel for two bucks.

The Draco Malfoy Martini from the Backyard Bartender

2oz Gin (or Vodka if you prefer)
½ oz. dry vermouth
½ oz. pickle juice

Stir or (shake) all ingredients with ice. Strain into a chilled (Nick and Nora) cocktail glass. Divine.

pedro pietri – a remembrance march 21, 1944 – march 3, 2004

Posted on March 21, 2012 by ileana

Pedro Pietri, poet, playwright and co-founder of the Nuyorican Poet’s Cafe in Loisaida, New York.

Puerto Rican Obituary
Pedro Pietri

They worked
They were always on time
They were never late
They never spoke back  when they were insulted
They worked
They never took days off  that were not on the calendar
They never went on strike  without permission
They worked  ten days a week  and were only paid for five
They worked
They worked  They worked
and they died
They died broke
They died owing
They died never knowing  what the front entrance  of the first national city bank
looks like

Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel
All died yesterday today
and will die again tomorrow
passing their bill collectors
on to the next of kin
All died  waiting for the garden of eden
to open up again
under a new management
All died
dreaming about america
waking them up in the middle of the night
screaming: Mira Mira
your name is on the winning lottery ticket
for one hundred thousand dollars
All died
hating the grocery stores
that sold them make-believe steak
and bullet-proof rice and beans
All died waiting dreaming and hating

Dead Puerto Ricans
Who never knew they were Puerto Ricans
Who never took a coffee break
from the ten commandments
to KILL KILL KILL
the landlords of their cracked skulls
and communicate with their latino souls

Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel

From the nervous breakdown streets
where the mice live like millionaires
and the people do not live at all
are dead and were never alive

Juan
died waiting for his number to hit
Miguel
died waiting for the welfare check
to come and go and come again
Milagros
died waiting for her ten children
to grow up and work
so she could quit working
Olga
died waiting for a five dollar raise
Manuel
died waiting for his supervisor to drop dead
so he could get a promotion

Is a long ride  from
Spanish Harlem
to long island cemetery
where they were buried
First the train
and then the bus
and the cold cuts for lunch
and the flowers
that will be stolen
when visiting hours are over
Is very expensive
Is very expensive
But they understand
Their parents understood
Is a long non-profit ride
from Spanish Harlem
to long island cemetery

Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel
All died yesterday today
and will die again tomorrow
Dreaming
Dreaming about queens
Clean-cut lily-white neighborhood
Puerto Ricanless scene
Thirty-thousand-dollar home
The first spics on the block
Proud to belong to a community
of gringos who want them lynched
Proud to be a long distance away
from the sacred phrase: Que Pasa

These dreams
These empty dreams
from the make-believe bedrooms
their parents left them
are the after-effects
of television programs
about the ideal
white american family
with black maids
and latino janitors
who are well train
to make everyone
and their bill collectors
laugh at them
and the people they represent

Juan
died dreaming about a new car
Miguel
died dreaming about new anti-poverty programs
Milagros
died dreaming about a trip to Puerto Rico
Olga
died dreaming about real jewelry
Manuel
died dreaming about the irish sweepstakes
They all died
like a hero sandwich dies
in the garment district
at twelve o’clock in the afternoon
social security number to ashes
union dues to dust

They knew
they were born to weep
and keep the morticians employed
as long as they pledge allegiance
to the flag that wants them destroyed
They saw their names listed
in the telephone directory of destruction
They were train to turn
the other cheek by newspapers
that mispelled mispronounced
and misunderstood their names
and celebrated when death came
and stole their final laundry ticket

They were born dead
and they died dead

Is time
to visit sister lopez again
the number one healer
and fortune card dealer
in Spanish Harlem
She can communicate
with your late relatives
for a reasonable fee
Good news is guaranteed

Rise Table Rise Table
death is not dumb and disable
Those who love you want to know
the correct number to play
Let them know this right away
Rise Table Rise Table
death is not dumb and disable
Now that your problems are over
and the world is off your shoulders
help those who you left behind
find financial peace of mind

Rise Table Rise Table
death is not dumb and disable
If the right number we hit
all our problems will split
and we will visit your grave
on every legal holiday

Those who love you want to know
the correct number to play
let them know this right away
We know your spirit is able
Death is not dumb and disable
RISE TABLE RISE TABLE

Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel
All died yesterday today
and will die again tomorrow
Hating fighting and stealing
broken windows from each other
Practicing a religion without a roof
The old testament
The new testament
according to the gospel
of the internal revenue
the judge and jury and executioner
protector and eternal bill collector

Secondhand shit for sale
learn how to say Como Esta Usted
and you will make a fortune
They are dead
They are dead
and will not return from the dead
until they stop neglecting
the art of their dialogue
for broken english lessons
to impress the mister goldsteins
who keep them employed
as lavaplatos porters messenger boys
factory workers maids stock clerks
shipping clerks assistant mailroom
assistant, assistant assistant
to the assistant’s assistant
assistant lavaplatos and automatic
artificial smiling doormen
for the lowest wages of the ages
and rages when you demand a raise
because is against the company policy
to promote SPICS SPICS SPICS

Juan
died hating Miguel because Miguel’s
used car was in better running condition
than his used car
Miguel
died hating Milagros because Milagros
had a color television set  and he could not afford one yet
Milagros  died hating Olga because Olga
made five dollars more on the same job
Olga
died hating Manuel because Manuel
had hit the numbers more times
than she had hit the numbers
Manuel
died hating all of them
Juan
Miguel
Milagros
and Olga
because they all spoke broken english
more fluently than he did

And now they are together
in the main lobby of the void
Addicted to silence
Off limits to the wind
Confine to worm supremacy
in long island cemetery
This is the groovy hereafter
the protestant collection box
was talking so loud and proud about

Here lies Juan
Here lies Miguel
Here lies Milagros
Here lies Olga
Here lies Manuel
who died yesterday today
and will die again tomorrow
Always broke
Always owing
Never knowing
that they are beautiful people

Never knowing
the geography of their complexion

PUERTO RICO IS A BEAUTIFUL PLACE
PUERTORRIQUENOS ARE A BEAUTIFUL RACE

If only they
had turned off the television
and tune into their own imaginations
If only they
had used the white supremacy bibles
for toilet paper purpose
and make their latino souls
the only religion of their race
If only they
had return to the definition of the sun
after the first mental snowstorm
on the summer of their senses
If only they
had kept their eyes open
at the funeral of their fellow employees
who came to this country to make a fortune
and were buried without underwears

Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel
will right now be doing their own thing
where beautiful people sing
and dance and work together
where the wind is a stranger
to miserable weather conditions
where you do not need a dictionary
to communicate with your people
Aqui Se Habla Espanol all the time
Aqui you salute your flag first
Aqui there are no dial soap commercials
Aqui everybody smells good
Aqui tv dinners do not have a future
Aqui the men and women admire desire
and never get tired of each other
Aqui Que Paso Power is what’s happening
Aqui to be called negrito
means to be called LOVE

the quest for the nick and nora cocktail glass

Posted on March 19, 2012 by ileana

I started really disliking the triangular cocktail glass (best known as a martini glass) ever since I went to the Pegu Club in Soho and had a perfect martini in a Nick and Nora cocktail glass. The martini glass is impratical, your drink sloshes with the slightest movement. People crane their heads and hover as they approach the cocktail. They pucker their lips over the glass in a hopeless attempt to avoid the spill – it’s not an attractive look. These glasses are big, so what is supposed to be a super chilled cocktail loses its iciness too quickly. People sip it much too fast so as to savor the cold before its gone. At the Pegu Club they serve your martini in a Nick and Nora glass, which is shaped like a dainty cup with a stem. They put some of your martini in it and some of it is left inside a small carafe which is placed before you inside of a bowl of crushed ice. Elegante.

Nick and Nora Charles were the protagonists of a film series based on the novel The Thin Man starring William Powell and Myrna Loy. A sophisticated married couple, they had a lot of cocktails while being wittty and solving murders. They used the perfect martini glasses. They are known as the Nick and Nora cocktail glass.

While I was looking for the Nick and Nora glasses, I discovered that a lot of people were on the same quest. There is a whole thread about it at Chowhound. Blogger Wordsmithing Pantagruel reported going to the Pegu Club and grilling a bartender for the source. I followed a lead to a wine store on the Upper Westside, but was told they only had three left. Then success, thanks to Wordsmithing Pantagruel. Tabletop Style has them in their Minners Classic Cocktail Collection for a little over six bucks each. They arrived quickly and are now waiting to be filled.

MoRUS, the museum of reclaimed urban space

Posted on March 12, 2012 by ileana

A very exciting project is underway in Loisaida – a new living history museum that will focus on how the community came together to reclaim abandoned buildings and empty lots and created homes, cultural spaces and lush gardens in what was known as the “Take Back the Land Movement” of the late 70s and 80s. Check out the fantastic video and donate if you wish to get the museum up and running.

My daughter Camelia appears in the beginning of the video when she was little. She is the girl in the pink jacket with purple wings in the Jardin del Paraiso community garden.

Camelia’s tattoo. The girl has roots.

These previous posts have more information on the history. The Start of the Homestead and Pigeon Wars.

stucco veneziano part two

Posted on March 5, 2012 by ileana

I’ve finished the plastering and the blue color is beautiful against the brick wall (see part 1 for an inexpensive DIY venetian plaster recipe). The complementary color makes the brick pop. The final step is the coating that you put over the plaster. When you see photos of venetian plaster walls, you often see walls that are very shiny – Vegas looking. I don’t like that look. I apply a top coat to my plaster using one very simple ingredient – Ivory soap. I’ve never tried this with any other brand of soap. I’ve not felt the need to experiment because it works so perfectly. The Ivory soap does not change the color of the plaster and it lasts. I have venetian plaster walls in my home that are twelve years old and the soap finish looks like it was put on yesterday. Here is how to do it yourself:

Soak a bar or two of Ivory soap overnight.