memoir

Dahlia Days and Jersey Delights

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: These are not only the dog days of summer but International Dog Day as I sit down to start this. No dogs here in the House of Seven Cats and I think the Jersey Five find the addition of the two New Yorkers two too many more let alone pups.

Blackie has wiled most of his days away in our bedroom when not hunting up Cookie (who resides in Kim’s studio upstairs) and eating her food. He’s also gotten into numerous tussles with Beau, the head of cats here and fluffed himself up into a righteously puffy Halloween-esque fellow. I am trying to resolve the problem with an extra can of food in the late afternoon. It might be working.

The view from the back deck one glorious afternoon.

I am on the back deck as I write, where I have spent many happy hours this vacation. Stormy, the gray tabby who seems to be perpetually surprised and terrified by the world, is at the back door looking out – hoping against hope that a fat fly will land on the screen door for her to chase.

A batch of popovers made by a friend.

Labor Day comes early this year but having said that the light in the afternoon already has a fall look and I have seen large v’s of birds starting to make their trek south. The evenings are chilly enough to warrant a jacket and I am starting to eye the little used fire pit. However, the earlier part of the day in full sun can be roiling hot so we are not there yet.

With heavy spring rain and subsequent dry spells the dahlias are slow to bloom this year but their show now that it has started is worthy. A few new entries are small in bloom stature but bursting with bright colors, red and white and an orange red and yellow. My beloved hummingbirds come to feast on them and they go from one to another and back to a favorite – like a bird buffet. ( Does anyone know what I mean when I say hummingbirds, hanging in the air, look like they are somehow stopping time?)

I can almost always find bees tucked in the centers of the dahlias, drowsily, drunkenly and dizzily covered in pollen. The strawberry plants are also enjoyed by the hummingbirds and are overflowing with flowers right now. I think I’ve mentioned before that they oddly produce only the tiniest, almost doll sized fruit – delicious but bizarrely small.

Kim working at his temporary desk.

The tomato plants promise produce, hanging green on the vine but ripening SO slowly. Another producing tiny tasty yellow cherry tomatoes is doing a great business – unusually small but tasty bits being the order of the day here I guess. We pop small handfuls in our mouth, still warm from the sun. The jalapeno peppers are bountiful (and perversely huge) and of course are the hardest to use up quickly without killing my diners with devilishly spicy treats.

Kim’s set up for work here.

This year has felt like a real vacation. Kim and I have taken long daily walks to the neighboring towns, shopped in the antique stores and scored some items. We brought piles of books from New York (and admittedly added to them) and we have worked our way through almost all of them. Kim has been catching up on some of my Rosa Mulholland recommendations including one I brought with me that arrived shortly before our departure. In addition he has made occasional trips to the comic book store in Red Bank (Jay and Silent Bob’s Secret Stash of Kevin Smith fame) where he has amassed books reproducing the Superman saga.

From my favorite perch at the comic book store, reading work email while Kim looks.

Kim and I both worked for the first two weeks here after arriving in early August and we’ll put in a few days from here after Labor Day. Last week I wrote about our pending visit with Bill which kicked off our vacation and below are some photos memorializing his visit. (Bill, if you’re reading this, we found both the Reed Crandall book AND the Pinocchio book after you left! They were on an overlooked shelf together.)

Ferris wheel view at fair.

Tonight is our first visit this year to the local Fireman’s Fair. (I wrote about it last summer in a post here.) Although I have reserved the right to go again when another friend visits from Manhattan this weekend.

I recently told Kim if he wants to sound like a native New Jersey-er he weigh in on the state of the summer’s corn and tomatoes – peaches for the bonus round. We take these things very seriously and the quality of Garden State produce is of great local importance. This year corn is small but good corn can be found with some work – it is perhaps just late as it has improved as the month has gone on. The tomatoes are somewhat underwhelming unless you hit one of the El Dorados of good ones (or can convince the ones on your deck to ripen) and eat them quickly before they go from ripe to bad. All but one purchase of peaches failed the test – however last night had some that had been purchased at the peach of ripeness before going bad, ate them with ice cream and felt like we really hit it at last.

Before and
after!

In this spirit I began to make tomato pie. After looking at numerous recipes I settled on a simple one which I share below. The tomatoes need to be bled of water briefly before starting and I used a pre-made crust. (For all my apparent cooking talents there’s something about pie crust which I have never gotten into the rhythm of properly.)

Fifteen minutes to throw together and this is in the oven cooking away for 45 minutes or more and it is without question best if consumed immediately – it is inferior when reheated. My only other word of advice is that you should pack it as full of tomato layers as possible because they shrink in the cooking and my first effort looked a bit woebegone as a result. Dan and Cathy Theodore were the first to try my pie and liked it enough to ask for the recipe, but more about their visit and the gift they brought in another post.

Recipe:

  • 1 pie crust
  • 1/2 red onion, sliced thinly into rounds
  • 1/4 cup mayonnaise
  • 6 ounces shredded mozzarella cheese
  • 3-4 ripe tomatoes, sliced about 1/4-1/2 inch thin
  • 4 tablespoons fresh basil, sliced into ribbons (chiffonade)
  • salt and pepper to taste

Instructions:

  • Preheat oven to 400F.
  • Line a 9″ tart pan with prepared pie dough. Poke a few holes in the dough with a fork, then cover with parchment paper and pie weights or dried beans. Bake for 15 minutes, until crust is starting to turn golden.
  • While the crust bakes, slice the tomatoes on several sheets of paper towels and sprinkle with salt. Flip and salt the other side as well. Let the tomatoes sit for 10 minutes, then blot off moisture with dry towels.
  • Mix together the mayonnaise and the shredded cheese, and spread the mixture in the parbaked pie crust. Sprinkle 2-3 tablespoons of the basil on top.
  • Top with one layer of the sliced tomatoes, the onions, followed by a second layer of tomatoes. Add a third layer if space permits. Sprinkle liberally with salt and pepper. (If like me you are worried that the tomatoes are salty from the bleeding the wiping them down wipes off most of the salt.)
  • Bake for 30 minutes, until crust is golden and some juices along the edge of the pie crust are bubbling. Remove from the oven and set aside for 20 minutes to cool before slicing. Tip with the remaining basil and serve warm or room temperature.

Note: Tomato pie is best served on the day it is made, but leftovers can be store in the refrigerator and reheated in the oven at 350 degrees for 12-20 minutes.

PS – At top, Beauregard, top cat of the Jersey Five, in a pout before we left today!

Love-ly Lamp

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I think Pictorama readers know by now that I am very susceptible to stumbling on something while scrolling through the internet, eBay and Instagram in particular. I see a heck of a lot and, if you think of it in proportion to what I see I inquire about a small amount and purchase and even smaller amount – although it does pile up. Anyway, this lamp popped out at me while casually strolling through Instagram and I went so far as to purchase it for the house in Jersey. It came to us via Mike Zohn @obscuraantiques whose antique store on the we used to visit on the Lower Eastside before his relocation to points south of here.

Pictorama readers might also remember that I have a soft spot for lamps and have posted about a number of them purchased for the house here and a few for the apartment in New York. (I was thinking about this the other day and remembering that for my father it was clocks and chairs. Man, my father would go way out of his way if he thought an antique clock might be in the offing. When he was a bit younger he was also that way about antique chairs – I grew up with an extraordinary number of chairs in the house – many were Shaker in origin. We could have seated small concerts or film viewing. They were like cat nip to him. Meanwhile, some of those past lamp posts can be found here and here.)

Somewhere in the back of my mind I was thinking that this lamp would look nice and be useful in our bathroom – I am not a huge fan of the overhead light. I was assured that it had been rewired and all I would need is a shade and the hardware for the shade however when it arrived the thingy where the bulb goes looked awfully gnawed away. It took a number of months before I could get it to the hardware store here which is a splendid place to get work done on lamps.

Fair Haven hardware is one of those rare thriving businesses that manages to look (and smell) both contemporary while remaining steeped in its longstanding past. Fair Haven Hardware is 72 years young this year and while it was sold by the son of the original owner to a employee a few years ago, he’s pledged to keep it going for the next 70 years. (I recently got on my elevator in Manhattan and was talking to a neighbor who used to have a home down here, when she talked about selling she said the thing she’d miss most was this great hardware store in Fair Haven!) Their 70th anniversary banner still hangs on the front of the shop.

Kim and I were trying to analyze what the smell is. It is reminiscent of an aging Woolworth’s or ancient five and dime of that variety with perhaps a bit more fertilizer and grass seed thrown in. You might say dust but it isn’t dusty, nor is it dark, quite well lit really.

Anyway, they replaced the bit that holds the bulb and now I just need the hardware for the shade and a shade. While it isn’t exactly light, it is not as heavy as it might look. It’s sort of a dotty design and the ageing patina improves its appearance I think. I continue to think it might have a place in the bathroom. (Although I recently purchased a night light for it and it seems a tad less pressing than it did.)

Buying a shade for a lamp online is a bit difficult and this has prevented me from purchasing one for Popeye as well. You have a desire to see how various shades look. I need to find a local store where I can take them and pop a few on, like trying on hats. Or I can gird my loins, order online and take my chances. I’ll let you know what I decide.

Picking

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I recently bought this photo in one of my jaunts to the Red Bank Antiques recently. It is the kind of quiet photo that catches my eye sometimes and seems fitting for the house here in New Jersey.

This pair has been picking something although hard to say what, my first thought was apples. I don’t know if this a local photo – there’s nothing on the back for date or location. Those wooden buckets could have held peaches or even cherries just as easily. There is a nice rock fence behind them.

The woman’s dress puts this at the 1910’s or there abouts. She looks cool despite her layers of cotton. The man looks a bit warmer in his rolled up shirtsleeves and suspenders. I love the way the sun filters through the leaves. I think it will find its way to our guest room in anticipation of a friend coming at the end of the week.

I wrote a post about picking cherries at my grandmother’s house as a kid. (It can be found here.) Those cherries were cooked down into preserves that we would eat all winter.

Before and…
after!

A friend suggested peach picking this summer, but we have not attempted it. The peaches seem a bit off this year and as a result I have taken to cooking them down in an easy recipe shared by a friend.

I take all my overripe fruit and cut it up – today will be peaches, nectarines and blueberries. I sprinkle just a bit of sugar, spoonful (I am using regular but you might want to use brown), lemon juice and most importantly lemon zest. Pop it in a baking dish at 375 for about 45 minutes until bubbly. Yummy hot, but great in yogurt or over ice cream once you have refrigerated.

Vacation: Jersey Days, Part One

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I realize I am late getting to this today, but my cat care called in sick and I had chores for the maintenance of the Jersey Five plus the NY pair, so there was a lot of cat stuff that needed to go on. Then I started the gardening, but decided that I would give you all a turn first.

When I say I started the gardening, in reality I tackled the pruning of two huge flowering trees, Crape Myrtle, in our front yard. I am not an experienced pruner at all but when in bloom these trees get heavily weighted down with water and branches snap off. With a heavy rain some were sort of hanging half off and a friend lent me heavy clippers. I, who evidently don’t own a step ladder (I will look in the basement to be sure but none in the garage/mud room), took a step stool out and did my best to reach the necessary branches. I did my best, got covered in showers of tiny pink flowers.

Beauregard, a very fine guy. Has tried to make friends but NYC kits not having it.

For the cat update. The good news is that Cookie and Blackie did not stand on ceremony and refuse to eat for the first 24-48 hours and instead got right to it. Cookie is at home and enjoying her private aerie in Kim’s studio upstairs. She is not pleased with cat visitors although our enormous black male, Beau, persists in visiting and attempting to make friends. I find him sitting calmly like a loaf of cat on the day bed and her being hissy, pissy.

Blackie and Beau have had a few set to’s and I need to keep an eye on that. Beau really has tried to make friends but now is hissy himself – it is after all his full time house. Blackie is not having it but also he has a gamey leg that we had seen at work before leaving. Because he refused to walk for the vet wasn’t much they could do but pain killers. He’s better but his jumping is off and I think he knows it and is more defensive.

Some beautiful sunrises during my commute but just as happy to not do it for a few weeks!

Aside from that, much rain has made the garden explode with green but I feel like the flowers and the veggies are slower coming to fruition. I waited forever for the cosmos seeds to come up. The heavy rains moved them around and some probably actually rotted. However, we have a nice clutch for cutting flowers. The dahlias are just getting started and I am anxious for them as they and the Rose a Sharon tree attract the hummingbirds I love.

Chopped one of these into my fish stew and my guest’s head about blew off! Forgot I like it really spicey!

Tomatoes and cherry tomatoes are promising this year with the cherry tomatoes already kicking out produce regularly. The jalapeno peppers are doing a grand business, but as above the tomatoes are dragging their feet and so are some beans I put in which are just getting down to business. There’s a fig tree bursting with figs for the first time and some excellent, if mysteriously doll-sized strawberries. Huh.

A nice addition to New Jersey life are the farmer’s markets. It is a discovery for us, they’ve been here. The really good Garden State produce I love can be found at these – juicy Jersey tomatoes (my own are still green!), corn, peaches and nectarines. There is one in Red Bank and one in Fair Haven. Red Bank is about a three mile walk and the Fair Haven one is about that round trip. Kim and I like a good walk and an Uber and always be employed if we don’t want the six mile round trip to and from Red Bank or if we have heavy bags.

Today we welcome our first house guest in a long time. Our friend Bill is making the trip. He’ll be followed by some folks for lunch Monday and then another friend for three days at the end of the month. (Deva, we’re practicing and working up to your stay!) Of course I always cook a lot when I am here so it is just a question of laying in supplies for some marathon Jersey meals and deck time. I figure guests should be treated to the best of our Jersey fare and as part of that project I am making (my first!) tomato pie. So more to come on that and the relative success.

Early, new dahlia with a pollen covered bee!

So, lots more to come but I have to get outside and water the plants before it gets any later.

Swanning

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: In a sense this is a New Jersey post. We’re here and it is an object I purchased with this house in mind. It showed up in my feed and I instantly snapped it up. (Like yesterday’s postcard post, this also courtesy @Marsh.and.Meadow via Instagram.)

My mother was devoted to swans – the real ones that lived in the river on our property when I was growing up. She loved them and she started feeding them and they got to know her. She also began to help injured ones. People began bringing them from all over and would call for her help and advice. Along with the geese they were generally despised and over time she fought to keep them from being rounded up and gassed along with the geese. (There were resources, such as chasing dogs, that could be used to rid your yard of geese – the Geese Police.) It was a complicated issue but she was firmly on one side of it.

Swan planter awaiting plants out back.

This passion played out over the background of my sister’s illness and treatment for cancer. It kept mom out as a part of the world beyond care taking in the house. She picked up a long unused camera and began taking pictures of them.

During that period I can remember coming to visit and sharing a bathroom (not really because swans don’t share) with an injured swan spending the night inside. There was one she called Sweetheart in particular that did a lot of time in the house. Frequently swans and other water birds swallow fishline or “sinkers” which, in turn twist in their gut or give them lead poisoning. Those that recovered would be released either into our river or given to someone with a protected pond on their property. Some of the swans were pinioned (wings clipped) to keep them in a small waterbody on a property but often without enough food. They were moved to where they could be supervised as flying is their only real defence.

Sadly my sister eventually died. Not too long after my parents left their house by the river after Hurricane Sandy. Mom herself moved from a walker to being largely immobile. Throughout it all she continued to take calls about swans and other injured or endangered waterfowl. Pictorama readers know that she was also clearly a sucker for cats and adopted four of the Jersey five I have today in those last years. (Yes, this means I inherited four very young cats out of five. I sometimes say I have cats for life.)

A bit of stained glass with a swan that was a gift to mom years ago. Next to a chair with a view of the yard she favored. She’d be pleased with how much it has grown in and been added to.

While mom was never one to pick up bits and pieces (I inherited that from my father and his family – a post about their collecting can be found here) there are a few bits of evidence of her love for swans in the house. Some cards made from her photos and of course some prints. There are a few swans either in the yard or tucked away in the house. I am looking at a piece of stained glass someone gave her.

Yet, as soon as I saw this door knocker, green with age and patina, clearly weighing a ton, I had to have it for the house here. Someone may have tried to clean it a long ago mistaken day, at least that is what I think the white bits in places represent. The knocker is largely the long neck of the swan.

Swan door knocker. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

He is a beady eyed fellow. No cartoon cuteness to him. The bottom is sort of decorative feathers and even abstracted feet. It ends in a sort of blossom, water reed design.

It weighs a ton! Realistically I would not be surprised if I am unable to install it here although I will try. My metal fireproof door may be able to hold it (although my current knocker is hung with one bolt rather than two) and I will have to let you know! If not, I will find somewhere else to put it here. It seems like mom would have liked it very much.

Hot Stuff

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: It has been quite a long time since I have written about food or offered a recipe. (A few popular recipe posts from the past can be found here and here.) Today’s post will supply a few simple recipes, but in fact pays tribute to a new condiment residing in my pantry, Fly by Jing Sichuan Chili Crisp. (Those of you who do not like spicy food can adapt both recipes below, which I initially made without the chili crisp!)

My appreciation for spicy food has ratcheted up over the last few years. The change has even made me wonder if my palate changed after losing my sense of taste for a period of time as a result of Covid. I gave myself a course of sniffing herbs, peppers and condiments to help bring it back. My friend Winsome showed me how to can my homegrown scotch bonnet and jalapeno peppers (a post can be read here) which landed in soups and stews for the most part, most notably turning my seafood stew into a much more spicy dish.

During Covid I had already found the joys of a regular use of red pepper and had settled on a mellow (not hugely spicy) Marash Red Pepper I found at Fairway. Subsequently they recently seem to have stopped selling it and replaced it with a similar Aleppo Style Chili Flakes which appear larger but very similar. I also mentioned buying some Marash or Aleppo pepper at a place selling fresh herbs I discovered in the West Village. (That post can be found here.)

That said, fresh ground black pepper definitely has its place and for many things I have become addicted to a salt grinder too – really ups my game on avocado toast – which incidentally still needs regular hot red pepper flakes. (I recently had a Cacio e Pepe pasta, worthy of every calorie, which reminded me of the greatness of fresh ground black pepper applied accordingly! For my avocado toast, a post can be found here.)

Anyway, onward to Fly By Jing Chili Crisp. Somehow at first I completely ignored the rising chili crisp enthusiasm. In fact, I believe I had an unopened jar in my pantry, purchased from Fresh Direct at some point, when one day after reading an article about how the author put it on everything I decided to give it a try.

From the Fly by Jing website – fish sauce and chili crisp on ice cream sounds awful but this looks pretty darn good.

I will start by saying, although I am a fan, I am not sure I belong in the mega-fan category. For example, I tried it on my eggs one morning and really thought meh. I have never tried it on ice cream (although I might given the right opportunity) and I don’t eat much white rice to pair it with. However, having said that, it gives an even greater kick to my seafood stew and it has really changed up a recipe I invented for salmon. There are a number of other products and although tempted by, let’s say, smoked salmon with chili crisp, the price, $40 for three small containers, discouraged my curiosity. (However, if anyone has tried this I would love to know!)

Small and expensive tins of smoked salmon with the crisp available online.

Founded in 2018, Fly by Jing appears to be owned by a young Asian woman (the Jing in the name, Jing Gao) originally from Chengdu, China where the products are made, although it is headquartered in Los Angeles. She claims that the product brings the taste of her grandmother’s chili crisp to every table and that she wishes to redefine the ethnic food aisle at the grocery store.

Gift packs proliferated over the holidays but I don’t know anyone with my level of devotion to spicy!

Without know this for a fact, my casual assessment is that it is indeed Fly by Jing in particular has ignited the chili crisp craze, although I currently have one from a local restaurant in my pantry to try. I have tried a few different varieties of Jing’s crisps and I have to admit I have not been entirely able to discern the difference between them. I seem to end up with the Sichuan. The company sells dumplings and other foods but I have not tried them. Variety gift packages were in evidence over the holidays.

So for starters, this stuff is pretty hot so start slow and find your level. The amounts I suggested in these recipes is calibrated to my own taste level. I also reference a nice premade curry sauce I keep in the pantry. There is a whole line of different curries and they are made by a company called Maya Kaimal. I prefer the Madras, although I have liked all I have tried.

The salmon recipe originated with some lovely homemade preserves a friend gave me. Failing that I am partial to marmalade for that recipe. You’ll note that I pop both into a pre-heated oven around 400 degrees. Generally I am already cooking something else in there so this is sort of natural. If not, I would definitely pre-heat the oven. Two recipes are below. I apologize for no pictures of the finished product. Let me know if you try them and certainly any interesting variations you might come up with!

Fast recipe for shrimp:

  • Pound of shrimp
  • Sliced mushrooms
  • Fresh or frozen peas/mixed veg
  • 3-4 tablespoons Maya Kaimal Madras Curry sauce
  • Mix in Fly by Jing chili crisp to taste – I use about 1.5-2 tablespoons
  • Fresh ground salt and Marash pepper

Take a pound of shrimp, cleaned, no tails. Mix the curry sauce with the chili crisp. Spray a large skillet with olive oil and drop the shrimp into the hot pan. Season with the Marash pepper and ground salt and brown up, add some sliced mushrooms. Deglaze the pan with white wine (or I keep dry vermouth in the house for this purpose) and scrape with a wooden spoon. Add the frozen or fresh veggies remaining. Let that liquid cook down before covering the shrimp with the sauce and sticking in a pre-heated oven of about 400 degrees. Cook to the level of dryness you like, I usually leave in about 15 minutes.

Even faster recipe for salmon:

  • Salmon fillets, I usually get two 5 ounce fillets
  • Preserves, jam or marmalade, about 3 tablespoons
  • 2 or more tablespoons Fly by Jing chili crisp
  • Ground salt and Marash pepper

Heat an ovenproof skillet sprayed with olive oil. Once hot, lay the fillets, skin side down in the pan. Season with the salt and pepper. Layer the preserves or marmalade onto the salmon and then “top” with the chili crisp in the middle. Place in the preheated oven at 400 degrees for about 20 minutes or until the marmalade starts to brown. (Note that the sticky pan is impossible to clean – you will curse me – until you let it sit with some water and soap and then just rinses away.)

Back Up? Why Yes…

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: This scrappy little feline is issuing a warning – Back up! Cigar in mouth, claw paws and fixed stare, he chomps on a cigar which casts a reddish glow on his face, spewing a plume of smoke. His scratching paws show claws on the ground. He might be old and tatty but he can still fight a good fight. Although I think the admonishment means Get Back I think it also alludes to having your back up.

There is a small squiggle in the lower left corner and while I thought it was a spider or other insect, I now think it is someone’s way of signing their images. Google Images was not able to help me, however I now know that this was actually a woman’s suffrage image which I had not guessed. (I have a few suffragette items, which are frequently about cats, and a post about one is here.) It does make some sense now that I know it. It belongs to a series of cards featuring this tatty tom. This card was never used or mailed.

Votes for Women statue. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

Cards like this referred to the changing social role of women and aligning them with cat like characteristics. I look at Cookie and Blackie this morning and I am not quite sure what characteristics they are referring to – I may be missing the point. (Cookie has been pacing the apartment and meowing at us and Blackie is napping on the couch. Neither seems politically idealistic.) I am not so thick however, that I don’t understand that this is a flinty, tough kit who is ready to engage their claws on all comers. Me-ow!

From the same series but not in Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

I think I chose today’s card because we are mid-summer here in NYC and I am at sixes and sevens. A thoughtful colleague asked what I had enjoyed most about summer so far and my first thought is how hot and wet it has been and I could hardly come up with a pleasant answer. Work has been busy (event in Sag Harbor a week ago) and other than the temperatures and the humidity it has not felt like summer at all. We are generally frayed and on edge here. My fur is standing on end!

Next week sees our month long move to the Jersey shore and some vacation. I am hoping to restore my equilibrium and my spirits with long evenings on the porch among the dahlias and the hummingbirds which come to snack in the evenings. I want to eat my homegrown Jersey tomatoes, local corn and peach ice cream, along with grilling some fish. I want to drink an iced drink and read on the deck with Kim also reading in a chair across from me. (We have a towering pile of books we are bringing!) August is designed to smooth our fur and get us ready for the coming fall ahead.

Moonlight Serenade

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: This fetching and fluffy feline caught my eye recently. This card is a bit later than the majority of cards in my collection and was sent on September 9, 1933. A woman named Agnes sent it from Whinchmore Hill to Miss Connie Connors at 63, Park Av. Park Estate, (can’t read the town) Northumberland for a penny.

Agnes writes simply, Dear Connie, It seems ages since I have heard anything about you all. Hope you are well. Lots f love, Agnes xxxxxxxx. Presumably it is Connie who had and kept this card to make it down the decades.

And I ask, who wouldn’t have kept this card? This little fellow is caught mid-meow posed on a faux brick wall for this purpose. In some ways it is the evocative bright moon scenery behind him that really does it for me. At the bottom in a script font it reads, A moolight serenade and W. & K. 1592. W&K postcards is the logo for Wildt & Kray, London. The company was founded in 1905 and was active into the 20’s publishing postcards of several genres but most notably cats – including Louis Wain.

Therefore if this card is postmarked 1933 (which it clearly is) it was either a bit old at that time or had been reprinted and distributed somehow subsequently. (Therefore the esthetic appeal to me makes sense since it was likely made before 1925 or so.) You can see it a bit above, weirdly the postmark machine has come through and embossed half this card.

Back of card.

I am glad I have not lived in a time and place where caterwauling is a nightly event. As a cat lover on the rare occasion I have heard it, and the likely fight that might follow I have found it hard to ignore. Just a cat meowing outside will of course garner my attention. Not that I would ever have thrown shoes at them – and not that I can imagine that would do any good.

In this mature period of her life Cookie (age 13) has become very chatty. She demands our attention, especially in the morning, with long, complex cat sentences. This is generally combined with a certain amount of staring (you human fool! why don’t you do as I ask?) and some rolling and stretching and expectation of tummy rubbing. (Cookie is the tummy rubbing-est cat I ever met! Growing up a cat would just bite you if you tried to rub its tummy, but oddly Cookie demands it.)

This leads me to a topic which may require more examination in a later post but there is a movement afoot on the internet where people are teaching their cats to “talk” using buttons spread across the floor. Of course, living in a tiny apartment in New York my first thought was, man, these people have space to spare and waste! Once I got over that, I started following a few people on Instagram who document their interactions ongoing.

To aide your cat or small dog in being a Chatty Cathy!

As far as I can tell one chooses word buttons and spreads them out on the floor and trains kitty to step on the appropriate one to converse. Obviously word choice is limited and a sort of pigeon English (if you pardon the term) emerges. Of course my friends at Chewy sell them but I have no real sense of how popular this trend is.

The account I watch most is a science fiction writer named Alice with a calico cat named Elsie (@elsiewants). Alice says she introduced button talking as something for a novel she was working on and thought her cat would better be able to tell her what toy she wanted to play with. Instead she seems to have gotten a Demanda Kitty (something we call Cookie occasionally) who appears to embody exactly what I always imagined cats would say if they could talk. It is sort of feline trash talking, a series of what she does and does not like and mostly what she wants.

There are companies like Fluent Pet that sell the buttons, lodged in brightly colored mats like those you see in a kid’s playroom. The companies have training instructions (do you want to talk to a cat or a dog?) and of course there are videos online to help. The real question we have to ask is, do we actually want to hear more about what they have to say?

Cookie not really asleep this morning. Do you really want to know what this cat has to say?

As much as I adore Cookie and Blackie, I’m not sure there is much to improve our relationship by giving them more control over the daily demands they already make. Although maybe a diabetic Blackie could communicate better about his sugar levels, too easily I can imagine Cookie pressing the same button again and again – and Blackie always insisting he hates Cookie. I have to say, this might be one area where ignorance is bliss and we shall not go.

Long Island

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: In a better world I would be writing this from home on Saturday morning as usual. I do have some new acquisitions that I am looking forward to treating you to but it will have to wait until Sunday as I am on what is these days, a very rare business trip.

My days at Jazz and even the Met treated readers to a fair amount of travel. Some of it quite exotic and international. (Some of those posts can be found here and here.) However, my current gig fundraising for an animal hospital does not require must travel. However, today here I sit in the rain, in very slow moving midtown traffic, a passenger on a Jitney heading for East Hampton.

Book purchase.
Illustration

I frequently say that into every New York fundraiser some time in East Hampton must fall. In today’s case it is an event tomorrow night. I am going out early and staying with a friend until Saturday.

Other purchase and illustration.

Growing up at the Jersey shore my relationship with Long Island beaches is a bit skeptical. While “beach traffic” was a thing of my childhood (we could walk to the beach but you still had to negotiate traffic for any of life’s needs in a car) it could not prepare me for the gridlock of Long Island. Cars line up in long rows for blocks and blocks at intersections. You find that traffic is always a major topic of conversation here – what route did you take and how was it. This year’s event is in downtown Sag Harbor so some lucky folks who live in that historic district will be able to walk.

1937 view of Peninsula House (aka P House) Sea Bright in 1937. It burned to the ground in 1986.

The east end of Long Island has always seemed like the glitzy cousin to my beloved Jersey shore. The old houses here are older and many have more gravitas than our beachside mansions along the ocean. Houses here were built right on the ocean while most of those in Monmouth County are on the other side of a seawall and thoroughfare. Some of those few that were waterside perhaps washed away – or otherwise lost to time like the Peninsula Hotel which used to perch seaside in Sea Bright.

Luxury brands abound here – the streets dotted with the designer clothes of the moment, Starbucks (of course) and the likes of Tiffany. In Jersey the wealth moved more to the riverside and the mansions line those more interior shores.

View from the lovely house I stayed at.

Still, I have never entirely understood the appeal of this location, now with traffic a good more than three hours from Manhattan when I can hop on a ferry at 34th street and arrive on the beach shores of Sandy Hook in 50 minutes.

Another view – with swans.

Work is what is more likely to draw me out here in the summer than leisure activity of my own – my garden in NJ beckons! It has been a few years since my last jaunt during my final summer at Jazz at Lincoln Center when I came out for one of the orchestra’s engagements and to visit supporters out here.

Geese outside my window Friday morning, gently honking.

Then like now I stay in the gorgeous home of a thoughtful friend who I met during my years at the Met. This year I perched in a lovely guest cottage on her property which overhangs the shores of Georgica Pond. It is a heart stoppingly beautiful view of this protect inlet, just a canoe ride around the bend from the open ocean. I woke to geese gently honking out the glass doors to the water. (I wrote about one other sojourn at her house here.)

Views from Long House.
Amphitheater there with Ai Weiwei Sculptures
Apple tree arbor.

The weather here, like the weather everywhere in the area, has been lousy. Overcast and drizzly days, far cooler here than the humidity of the city which we have been subjected to. (I always vacation in August as over time I have decided that July tends to just have bad weather.) So,although I did get a short walk on the beach I never made it into the pool nor was I able to sit outsie with a book or thihs laptop and enjoy the world going by.

However, in a yard filled with water fowl, birdfeeders, a glory of bunnies and chipmunks there was always something going on. It reminded me so nicely of the river view from the house I grew up in where there was always something to watch or look at in the yard.

Also, the last time I visited here my mom was still alive. I remember sending her many photos of the views here and my fingers still itched to be able to do it.

Images from the Ark at the Church in Sag Harbor.

This weekend’s destination was an exhibition of animal sculptures and a reception celebrating the animal hospital I work for. The building housing it, an exhibition space called The Church, which was once originally – a church that is. Philosophically I believe that Hamptons events consist almost entirely of people who live in greater Manhattan and who you could see there for less cost in time and money. (In other words, this feels unnecessary from a fundraising perspective.)

Aside from the event, my host took me to Long House gardens – the estate of Jack Larsen – where we took a wonderful long walk through the landscape, stumbling on sculpture nestled among the plantings. Having once worked for the Central Park I have some sense of the scope that the care of such seemingly casual plantings need. It was a day closed technically closed to the public and the staff was out enforce to take advantage of the weather between fits of spitting rain, broken by short periods of intense sunny heat.

Main drag in East Hampton taken while waiting for the bookstore to open. The one in Sag Harbor is the good one though!

I will report quite a bookstore discovery in Sag Harbor. I had gone to a satisfactory bookstore in East Hampton earlier in the visit where I was intrigued by a volume or two. However, Sag Harbor Books (info here) appears to have consumed a used bookstore we went in search of and the end result is a combination of books old and new for sale, just a block up from the water. I had limited time there but grabbed these two volumes and will give them a try. If you find yourself in this area make the trip to see it. Ignore the first editions and cases with huge prices and head to the carefully tended and curated shelves of more generic offerings. (There was a strong evidence of westerns and cowboy options. Kim is a fan but his reading so voracious and longstanding that I hesitate to buy for him. He is getting a t-shirt on this trip which is an odd choice, but I saw a color I liked and I grabbed it at a general store.)

General store in East Hampton where I purchased a t-shirt for Kim and some very over priced hair ties.

As I finish this I am on the Jitney this Saturday morning. It will be afternoon by the time it reaches you all and those regular readers may be wondering where I have wandered off to. I won’t get back to Manhattan until 12:30 and will need to get settled with photos and all before sharing this. However, I promise a rare treat in terms of a cat item tomorrow so stay tuned.

Tavern Trip

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Yesterday on a whim Kim and I spent the Independence Day holiday in a remarkably patriotic way with a trip to the Fraunces Tavern museum in lower Manhattan. This important Revolutionary War landmark, where George Washington said farewell to his troops, is tucked among towering modern edifices, near the water and Wall Street. Kim just finished Washington Irving’s biography of Washington and it occurred to me that neither of us had ever been before.

Waiting in line out front for it to open.

The Tavern remains a restaurant and pub (I don’t believe it has operated continuously as there was information about a renovation and restoration at one time in one of the exhibits) and, unsure if it would be the holiday destination for many, I made a lunch reservation in one of the several dining rooms just to be safe. We had a 12:45 reservation which turned out to be about right to see the museum first.

Funny little display in the front wall of the building near where we waited on line.

Luckily it was a glorious day and we hopped on a ferry running along the East River and took it all the way to Wall Street from 90th Street, convenient to our Yorkville neighborhood here. July 4 is one of those holidays when Manhattan generally empties out and aside from some tourists, there is a group of us left to our devices here and that was represented by folks who were lined up to take this local ferry to the beach, biking or like activities. The result was a fairly full but not crowded ferry ride. (I became enamored of the ferry system, running up and down the east side, to Queens, Brooklyn and even New Jersey during Covid and have written about my introduction to the longer on to Jersey here .)

A snippet of the ferry in the East River about to go under, I think, the Manhattan bridge.

It was fun to travel to the museum by water rather than subway, a period appropriate way as the water would have frequently been used for transport in the 18th century. It was also a fraction of travel time – although the wait was longer than for a train and this was exacerbated by the mercurial holiday schedule it seemed to be on.

The museum is just a few blocks from the ferry terminal although Google lead us on a bit of a roundabout merry chase in an attempt to use maps. I think in part the problem is with so many tall buildings that reception is iffy there and the map would not reload properly. Anyway, we arrived as a small parade of folks in period clothes seemed to be wrapping up. (I overhead that they were here from Virginia but I am not sure if I caught the broader reason for their costumed attendance there.)

The Dingle Wiskey Bar, closed, but where we waited for the museum to open. Woman in 18th century dress using her cellphone a bit of a bonus here.

For those of you who don’t know the city, downtown Manhattan is entirely different than the rest of the island. As the area that was first built up, the streets are tiny and narrow. Because it is now the seat of commerce and business, enormous towers have risen and largely block the light from the clutches of tiny, historic buildings. I cannot imagine living or working in the area – it would be like living in an entirely different city. Unlike the rest of the city, lower Manhattan is not on a grid and hence the need for a map to find your way among unfamiliar and twisting streets.

A block or so of historic buildings approaching the museum’s block.

Even for all of that, we arrived early for the noon opening of the museum. There was a line outside but that was really just waiting for it to open – it did not have a persistent line throughout the day although they seemed largely booked for dining.

We were herded into one of the bar spaces to wait which gave us a chance to study that room a bit. There are, I believe, six different dining and drinking spaces (although there was a private dining area which may be a seventh – I lost count.) I was unable to figure out if the configuration was based on the original layout – many small rooms being typical of such an early building. There is evidently a piano bar occupying the fourth, top floor, but it was not open and we didn’t get to see it.

Another view of the Dingle Wiskey Bar.

The museum commences on the second floor which, in its day, would have also been serving spaces. It is not clear to me that this edifice was anything other than an eatery so perhaps all the floors were dining areas. (It isn’t clear that Mr. Fraunces or subsequent others lived there. It seems that in Washington’s day it was open day and night so my guess is he did live on the premises.) A large room on the second floor is said to be where Washington addressed his troops – it seems too small for that leaving us wondering how that worked. A firsthand account of the event is on display but also written on wall text for easy reading.

Arguably the reason we were there – said to be the space where Washington address his troops.
A later rendering of the event on display.

The tavern was also used to house some of the governmental staff during that first Presidential term which was served in New York and not Washington DC. I think it housed foreign relations and another arm of government I have forgotten. There is a small special exhibit about the discussion of the British evacuating New York and the trails that were held for traitors to the American cause.

In culinary history, the restaurant is known as being among the first to have a la carte table services while others still only offered family style meals at large tables. As mentioned above, it was also open 24 hours a day – all making it a bit ground breaking in that sense.

Not surprisingly, images of Washington and ephemera abound on virtually every surface.

While the second floor has the one period room (also where you pay admission, usually $10 but only $1 yesterday for the holiday, a small shop there as well) and an exhibition space. The third floor are the larger galleries and a room set up auditorium style. (They were actually preparing for a lecture later that afternoon.) The exhibitions are largely reproductions of documents and a smattering of items. The old maps were of interest and some of the letters (the original of Hale’s last letter before he was captured and executed as a spy) are available to be read more easily online with a QR code.

Fewer actual ancient bits are on display than anticipated, but this very old desk/chair was one.

The physical space is a mishmash of period styles and bits. For example, the enormous original plank floors are only in the smallest area with a mix of wooden floors from different periods throughout. Early wallpaper is noted to be from an indeterminant early but later period. Ceilings are low and rooms are intimate – fireplaces in all the original rooms. However obviously the space has been renovated, constructed and reconstructed to make it (somewhat) accessible and work for modern displays.

It was easy to locate where we reside, about halfway down this map, given the islands and waterfront outline.

The displays, as mentioned, are a bit ricky ticky, if you need sophistication you will be disappointed. However, the museum appears to have a robust program of lectures, symposium and especially family activities and while it certainly attracts tourists it is clearly also a part of its community for those who live in the area. (Events around period games, quilts and story time are scheduled for the remainder of July.) I got the feeling that for some folks it is a regular neighborhood hang for food and drink.

More formal dining.
En route to bar restaurant.

With that I would say the same about the food establishments. There are programs of live music most evenings and at least one of the bars is for walk ins only. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the prices are not touristy gouge-y, but actually quite average for New York City. I made a reservation through Open Table online and we were put in a long bar space in the front of the building. The other large dining room, running along the side of the building, is somewhat more formal.

Incongruously perhaps, soft rock music circa the 1990’s played (loud but not hideously so) in the bar space we occupied for lunch. Kim had a burger and fries and I had a blackened salmon sandwich with sweet potato fries. Kim had one of a number of non-alcohlic beers and I had a large (very good) extremely local Frances Tavern pale ale. While I was very tempted by the idea of a sticky toffee pudding (I generally cannot resist that description) I decided to be good and allow for the possibility of an ice cream later.

Holiday themed celebrants at the bar restaurant where we ate lunch.

The ice cream never materialized. After leaving Fraunces Tavern we attempted a visit to the nearby Seaport Museum but they had (mysteriously) opted to be closed for the Fourth. Our day ended with ferry mishaps as they decided to run the last ferry earlier than published and police barricades (anticipating crowds along the waterfront for the fireworks which wouldn’t start for many hours) kept us from hopping on the final one. So the day ended on the 4 train speeding uptown and ultimately a happy collapse in air conditioning and with cats as the conclusion to our holiday adventure.