We made it to Uncle Frank's, the land of roses. This guy doesn't just grow a few bushes, he cross breeds, hybridizes, has a greenhouse full of starters, and plants hundreds and hundreds of varieties about his grounds. Besides being such a fabulous host, Aunt June has a green thumb herself, complementing the rose beds with sprays of bright colored wildflowers. Cousin Jane and Karen joined us for a dinner which Aunt June insisted was just a “throwing together of things” that consisted of a nut and cheese appetizer tray, then a main course of lasagna, meatballs, ham, salad and her special zucchini chocolate chip brownies topped with ice cream.
I promised to blog about my travels, but this week it looks like I’ll just have to blog about eating! We roll through New Jersey to reach Uncle Ed’s house, Fred Sr.’s childhood home. After getting caught up and touring the old stomping grounds they take us to their favorite restaurant, which is not just a restaurant but a respite. You haven’t experienced service until you go to Northvale, New Jersey and eat at Taste of Spain. We begin with a platter of starters. Garlic shrimp, mussels, chorizo. There is not an expression to describe my Pollo Ajillo. Melt in your mouth does it no justice. I savor each bite, unwilling to swallow. We drink blue sangria, Aunt Lynn’s creation that the proprietor then added to the menu, that’s the kind of place it is. We saunter home and can’t seem to leave for looking at all of Ed’s gadgets and his many collections: coins, records, scrap metal, guns, spent ammunition shells, comic books, newspapers, floppy disks, even sunbeam convertibles parked in the backyard. It’s a hands-on museum, something to interest you everywhere you turn.
Time to hit the midnight road to Syracuse. Rory and Julie provide a true home away from home. For example, our welcome: wine night in the hot tub, telling stories, relaxing after yet another wonderful meal. They set us up in our own basement room and embody the phrase “Mi casa es su casa.” They insist they don't mind that we'll be spending a whole week taking up their space, even encourage us. We try to make ourselves useful. I help our cousin Tara with her new novel, that's right, a complete book by our families youngest writer. We crank out a pitch, a query letter, a synopsis. Watch out agents, here she comes! Fred helps Rory with some power washing and we get the bright idea of doing dinner, giving our lovely hosts a night off.
12 house guests later...You should have seen it, too bad there weren't any cameras, we could so audition for hell's kitchen. We shave nine eggplants, slice dip and batter the resulting hundreds of slices, then bake eight cookie sheets worth on a rotating basis in a glaring hot oven. Remember each piece has to be flipped mid-bake. A few burnt fingertips later, we have turkey meatballs slow cooking in a bit of oil, had already tossed the salad and were debating how to serve the bread. Then came the layering. In fear of running short (what do we know about cooking a big family meal?) we make two, industrial sized pans. Sauce, eggplant, cheese, sauce, eggplant, cheese, sauce, egg...Oh, enough! It baked up into a yummy eggplant parmesean and we called the family out of the pool to eat, while we jumped in to cool!
On Saturday they take us to camp. Uncle, oops, Cousin Rick’s lake house. We recline in beach chairs on the wide expanse of deck, watch the waves. Rory, a.k.a. MacGyver, power drills a piece of steel, bolts on his new hitch and rigs up a winch to lower the wave runner down the new boat ramp. It’s a blast skimming the lake and the sun stayed out long enough for everyone to have a turn. I’ll spare you all the wonders that came off the grill (alright: steak, sausage, salt potatoes) before Rick and Kelly shame the neighbors with the most amazing home display of fireworks top off a great evening of fun with family.
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