Friday, February 24, 2017

Grammie, or a DAC Parliamentarian

On this day in 1941, my Grammie, Ruth Neely Thompson Walsh became a widow. They had been married 17 years, and her son (my father) was only 13. With what would have been termed moxie at the time, she picked herself up, and soldiered on, running the Biltmore Hotel in San Francisco on her own. Her integrity got her written up in the newspaper more than once, but that's a story for another day. After she retired, she plunged headlong into a rich social life of playing bridge, having coffee with friends, and researching genealogy, which led her to hold many offices in groups like the DAR and DAC.

In March 1960, she pens the following letter to her son and daughter-in-law, who have just had their first child. She writes chatty letters, but this one, posted from room 640 of the Statler Hilton in Los Angeles provides a window into her unflagging energy and focus. At the time she wrote this, she was 75 years old.

++++
Saturday P.M.

Dear Madge & Bert,

I meant to send a card before this but haven't been able to find time. We started with a Board meeting before we got unpacked Wed and Thurs and Friday were full days with luncheons-dinner Thurs and a 7:30 breakfast on Friday. I am going to tumble in as soon as I mail this and try to catch up on sleep as I haven't had enough any night since I arrived.

Our flight was pleasant but then we had to circle over the airport for almost a half hour on account of fog and smog.

Next week won't be so strenuous as I have no responsibility and can skip meetings if I wish. The State Board put Marjorie up for a National Office for D.A.C. She did a good job of presiding on the whole. I had to sit up by her as parliamentarian and I wished she had left out a few things she said but on the whole it was all right.

Much love to you both and to my grandson.

Ruth - Mom
Ruth Thompson Walsh ca. 1955

Saturday, January 21, 2017

Recipe: Crab stuffed sole

It was a staple on my grandmother Jessie Cutting Richardson's elegant table: crab stuffed sole, moist and delicious. Jessie was talented in the kitchen, preferring simple dishes with fresh ingredients. Her daughter Madge, however, was an intellectual, and like her father, needed a recipe to follow--slavishly.

In my childhood, I can remember the moist dish when eating at Grandmother's, but at home, it was dry and rubbery. I finally figured out why in 1986. My parents were moving from Portland, Oregon back down to Redding, California for their retirement, leaving us, their adult children, behind. Moving day was predictably hectic, and the plan was that after the van pulled away, they would come stay the night in my apartment. I would provide a well-earned shower, dinner and a bed. My mother handed me $20 and a copy of the recipe for crab-stuffed sole and said, "why don't you make this?"

The recipe in Madge's book

 A careful reader of the recipe will note that the method doesn't say what to do with the wine, so I added it before putting it in the oven so the fish would poach. At dinner, my mother was near tears as she noted that it was as delicious as when her recently-deceased mother had made it--and what did I do differently? We went through the steps, and when I said I added the wine, she exclaimed, "You added it? I always just drank it!"

While cleaning out her home last year, I found my grandmother's recipe box. Turns out those years of baked fish can be traced to a copying error. Use this version.

The recipe in Jessie's card file