Monday, March 12, 2012

Blintzes, A Recipe

We are a sleepy house these days, as you can readily imagine:
Anthony and I take starlight shifts with the bub, ensuring a decent night's sleep for both of us - but still -
it's never enough sleep
so we catch up a bit during the day.

Living this way, time takes on a dreamlike state
and we languish in the peace of our new dynamic
and the love of our parents (both sets!)
who have taken such good care of us this last week.

I don't write much here about my father or how much I adore him
and right now it seems like a shame.
As the years pass his magnificence becomes precious to the point of ache;
he is a gentleman and a scholar, an environmentalist and an engineer.

When he tips his chin up and says something tender to me
(perhaps as we say goodbye at the airport)
I well up like a spring
both in my heart and spilling over my eyelids.

My father's influence on my soul is huge.

He is the kind of person who embodies the word 'capable'
and pours himself wholeheartedly into his interests -
jazz music
tending to an old house in need

 Poppy does not cook or bake
very often, 
but every once in a while he makes magnificent blintzes.
This particular recipe comes from his Aunt Ethel
who gifted my parents with the book
when they were first married.

My father's Jewish heritage is not something I have ever known very much about;
his father emigrated to Ellis Island as World War I was picking up steam
and he never spoke of his faith or his struggles
to generations next:
a lost history.

When I was growing up Unitarian Universalist
(my mother led our little nuclear family into that faith base and it was so good to us!),
the church would host fundraising meals and my father's contribution was
the blintz brunch,

now the stuff of legend!!

I can remember the handful of times that I was sent back to college
or New York City or L.A with a cold pack of blintzes
bound for my freezer to be rationed
and eaten when my heart was heavy
or in need of comfort;

I have bragged to friends about the awesomeness of these
delicacies and the handful of them who have tasted the blintzes 
can attest:
these are some powerful 

When my parents arrived I asked my father if he would make 
blintzes with me to put up and freeze
(and share with my in-loves and the Schmill, of course)
and he most certainly obliged, giving over
some four hours of yesterday's afternoon 
to the creation of 36 perfect little rolls.

This is love in a tender package,
an embrace of sorts for me.

Because you all have been so amazing
and supportive and out-of-this-world kind
I wanted to pass this recipe on in the hopes that you will make them
for someone you love
starting with yourself, of course!

Make note of my Poppy's chicken scratches (4X the batter, 3X the filling, etc) -
they are the result of years of testing!

Here are a few more tips:

substitute melted butter for melted shortening
2% milk is the milk of choice for my Poppy
Farmer's Cheese can be found at most Whole Foods
or gourmet specialty stores
Blintzes freeze and thaw very well

eat well!

With Love,


Sybil Ann said...

Thank you for the recipe - but thank you more for sharing the moments and pictures with you and your dad!

lynn bowes said...

Oh, as I read through your journaling this morning I was so hoping that you'd post the recipe! So thank you for two things today : the recipe for Poppy's Blintzes and for the soft memories of precious people in my life.

Now I am the oldest in my family (yikes!) and the memories of how my own family came to this country and how they endured and sustained gives me pause.

To family :: lynn

MrsLittleJeans said...

What a lovely post and what a treat for you...I am copying down the recipe...I love blintzes...and you must urge your dad to write down some of his experiences...xx

Debbie said...

To life, 'L Chaim....
Thank you dear girl for sharing your dear Poppy...precious pictures and memories have been made.

Roselle said...

My father is the most amazing man alive. He has taught me many things, the most important is how to be a kind person. Your story put a smile on my face and it made think of my father. As I get older, I appreciate the time I have with him more and more and value every moment (no matter how long or short) I have with him.

Although we have never met, your posts speak volumes about your soul and your kindness is contagious. So glad I stumbled into your little corner of the internet! Thank you for being you and thank you for sharing this lovely moment in time.