Passion Food

The First Batch.

Over the past few weeks so many people have been incredible to us; some have traveled from far places, others have made us yummy meals and others have done a great job of comforting us. For me there are two people I want to call out specifically: my cousin (who is more like my big sister) Suanne and my best friend Emmie. I’ve known both of these girls my entire life.

Suanne is the type of person that doesn’t leave your side in good times or bad –- especially in bad. She’ll be there for you 24/7 (which I am not –- I’m only available up until 8 pm :)) and she’ll take care of anything you need –- I really mean anything. You can cry with Sue, laugh with her, or just generally bitch to her if that’s the kind of mood you are in. She’s always there. Her fiancé John is the same way. Two people my own John and I just can’t live without. 

The other person I can’t live without is my best friend Emmie. (This is a picture of Emmie and I from last fall.) Emmie immediately got on a plane to fly 2,000 miles to be with me in the few days after the dust had cleared. (I also have to give special thanks to CJ her husband and her two girls for giving her up for a few days.) True to form, Emmie created an “Escape from Reality” agenda for us to follow and she showed up prepared with a box of tissues, bagels, my favorite ice cream and two movies. When it was 10:30 am and I asked her what time we could eat ice cream she said, “We can right now –- today we can do whatever we want.” She didn’t blink twice when I went back for two more scoops of Chunky Monkey.

Knowing that my world was upside down and wanting to help me take one step back to normal, Emmie suggested we bake cookies. Emmie is a Dorie Greenspan fan too, and so we decided to make Espresso Shortbread Cookies from her book Baking.

Emmie did most of the work, mixing, rolling.

As they chilled we went for a walk and talked. When we got back Emmie cut the dough into bars and we baked them.

Then we went into the sunroom to eat the cookies, drink some tea and escape from reality.

And so I thank both Sue and Emmie for being the best friends a girl can have. It’s one thing to have a friend at the good times; it’s entirely another when you have a friend at the worst times. I have been blessed to have two.   
 

The Artichoke

I wrote this a few weeks ago -- hope to be back with more soon. The wine glass is Scott's shot.

I’ve never claimed to be normal and this has been evident since I was a small child. For example, most kids like goldfish crackers but my favorite, favorite food was always artichokes. Although I was very young when I had my first experience with artichokes (about three or four) I remember it quite clearly. My mother brought me to visit my father’s grandmother, who at the time lived with her daughter Aunt Josie (my grandmother’s sister in case you are following). When we got there Great Grandma was making artichokes. She spoke only Italian and at this point was a shriveled little woman, usually always dressed in black. Great Grandma was probably in her late 80’s but to my three-year old mind she was about 500. To tell the truth, she kind of scared me. After we did the respectful kisses hello I was firmly planted on a high stool. Great Grandma  came over with artichoke leaves in her hands and showed me in loud, animated and very broken English just how the artichoke should be eaten; an Italian rite of passage really. I’ve been in love ever since.

My own grandmother lived to be 95 and she was the true queen of the artichoke. To me they always came out perfect however she always had a complaint and a few curse words to describe how they came out. Thankfully, she taught my mom how to make them and my mother can make them just as well --- of course without the curse words (Marilyn never swears). When I met John I realized the artichoke was a rare point of difference between us. He could easily live without the lovely vegetable. So we’ve made a compromise and I cook them only in the spring, don’t force him to eat them and I leave the kitchen windows wide open.

My Brother.

March 1998 – The Call: Jennifer. No Heartbeat. Get to the Hospital. April 2008 – The Second Call: Scott. Collapsed. Get to the Hospital. The familiar nightmare starts to unfold again.

Saturday: Cardiac arrest 4 times – not good. Sunday: More optimistic. When he wakes up we’ll see. Monday: No brain activity.

Twice we’ve been through this. Twice. This time we know what to expect – and yet I wonder can we survive this a second time around?

When Jen died my goal was to just get through the day. Having fun went out the window and so did cooking. I didn’t cook for years, I just wasn’t up to it. Until my boss Mary asked me to make a cherry pie for my co-worker and friend Eileen for her birthday. As I made that pie, I felt a little joy come back. And little by little it returned and I began to cook more and more until it became my full-time passion. And then I started this blog. Scott was really excited about the blog and a big part of it. The week before I launched it he came over and took all the shots. We talked about doing a cookbook together. He checked the blog everyday to keep my hits up. When he saw Foodbuzz asked us to become a featured publisher he was the first to call me – “Did you see the comment on your blog?!”.

Scott was larger than life, yes he was 6 foot 9, but aside from that when he entered a room you knew. He was known to everyone as the high school and college basketball star but that was just a small piece of him. He was funny. Really funny. And compassionate. And creative. And sometime a hothead – but I could be like that too. While my brother Chris and sister Jen were so much alike in many ways, so were me and Scott. And yet the four of us were still all very close.

Scott and I did stuff together. Just this week we talked about going to a Met game this summer. We always had fun together. Scott ran my first 5k race with me (ok – he ran, while I panted and walked), he helped us move into my house and even though he was the youngest brother he was protective of me. Just a few weeks ago we blogged about making Easter bread together. We spent the entire day together just talking. When he was leaving he said; “you know Marissa I’m happy we got to talk”. He loved my cat Versace and would always pick him up and kiss and hug him, having fur go all over the house – making John nuts.

Scott liked to do a lot of different things. As a child he was a star athlete – but he played piano, liked to build things and enjoyed cooking too. I remember him baking bread with my mom, or making cookies with his friend Billy next door. When he got into college he learned how to make a mean pot of chili and I remember him calling me one Thanksgiving excited that he made a 20 pound turkey for the guys he was living with out in California.

Scott always seemed to have great luck. And when he moved back from California it got only better. He met the girl of his dreams, Erica, who just melded into our family perfectly. Then he went back to school to become a photographer – finding his own passion. He was never without his camera. Last year he asked John and me to help him pick out a ring for Erica. The wedding was just two months away. Erica tells us she's still part of our family – we tell her she’ll never get rid of us.

When this first happened of course my immediate reaction is no more blog. How could I cook? How could I try to be funny? Scott was such a big part of this! But I am realizing that maybe Scott will still be a big part of this. He, as my sister, would be furious to know we were so sad. In fact, that is what got me through the first time – knowing that. I am not sure when I’ll be back to full-time posting, but I will and I hope that when I start to cook again I start to feel the ray of joy once more.

Until then in sweet memory of my brother Scott Charles Catania and my sister Jennifer Lee Catania.

Scott's friend and colleague Mark has set up this site in memory of Scott: http://www.modelmayhem.com/po.php?thread_id=283481&page=1