A tribute to Frank Sullivan. The food connection will not be apparent right off, so stick with me….
While growing up in Upstate New York’s Hudson Valley, I was miserable. As a young girl we had moved from Long Island to “the country” and I hated it. I knew from an early age that I was meant to be surrounded by concrete, not the WILDS of the country. I tried to make the best of it. I learned to ride on horseback, caught poison ivy, was taught to grow things and identify trees, plants and wild herbs. In 1987 I married and 2 days later left the area and have rarely returned since. In our married lives we moved 13 times in the first 21 years for John’s Air Force career. We lived in some exciting places and some truly dreadful (for us) places, but I seldom missed New York. I think growing up someplace where I was unhappy and forced to make the best of it made me that much more willing to let go and explore the locations where I was placed. I bloomed where I was planted. I missed the Chinese restaurant in town (Spring Garden), the pizzeria with the best pie (La Bella’s where I used to work) and the all night Greek diner across the river (Olympia – yeah, one of the shiny aluminum ones that looks like an old rail car). Of course I missed the few friends I left behind, and Mom and sisters, but the only time I actually missed NEW YORK was in Autumn.
Our front window faced the Catskill Mountains, and when September and October rolled around, and the leaves started to change, it was my favorite view. Our back windows faced an open field surrounded by trees and the view was similar in color, narrower in scope and a lot closer. In the eight acre clearing we grew strawberries, pumpkins, squash, beans, tomatoes…basically anything that would grow. After we harvested, the deer would come in and eat the remainder, chewing on still tender leaves and grasses. Morning and evening we’d see them, right up until hunting season when they mystically knew they were in danger.
At Hudson High School I had two favorite teachers – Nancy Russell (biology) and Frank Sullivan (humanities and English). Mr. Sullivan – Sully from here on out – was a joy. Frightening, scathing, tough, sarcastic, dry witted, talented, all knowing and more fun than should have been allowed in a classroom. Each morning during the height of “leaf peeping” season Sully would have us “race to the window children”. Once there, we recited part of Emily Dickinson’s Why:
The red upon the hill
Taketh away my will;
If anybody sneer,
Take care, for God is here,
That’s all.
For years while missing October and all it has to offer in Upstate New York – the smells of the apple orchards, burning leaves and the musty smell of pumpkins on a cold morning, the intensely beautiful foliage, the rituals of harvest and the church festivals – I repeated that stanza. It is one of my favorites, and I have never forgotten standing next to Scott Himmel or Lisa Miller or Kim Hover saying these words. Sunday while driving through the Las Vegas Valley and thinking of October, I recited that stanza for maybe the 10,000th time and in front of me was Red Rock Canyon. I almost wrecked Velma the Volvo! All this time I have been living in the desert, missing my beloved fall colors, and they were right here all along! I felt not unlike Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. I’m still in a VALLEY and there is ALWAYS “red upon the hill”.
But what, you may ask, does this have to do with FOOD? Apart from the fall reminding me of forgotten smells and harvest rituals, it always reminds me of Sully and he was a GREAT cook! He was the faculty advisor of the Honor Society and organized potlucks for different events with the Honor Society. Rumor had it he went to the Culinary Institute of America (CIA) in Hyde Park, NY (which boasts graduates such as Anthony Bourdain and Rick Moonen). My mother always knew which dish was his and made sure to get a bit of it on her plate, as did I. Right off the top of my head I remember a particularly amazing chicken casserole (remember what I said about casseroles?) and a great cabbage slaw. Sully taught at THE SCHOOL for 30 years and had taught some of my classmates’ parents. I can only imagine how many wonderful Food Memories he created for others during that time.
Because I was gravid with child upon his death, I was unable to attend his funeral. Had I not been pregnant, I would have made the 12 hour drive to be there to honor this man. Now, nearly 20 years later he continues to speak to me. I often wonder what he would think of amateurs like me writing blogs. Would he correct my grammar and send it back? Would he tell me to persevere or hang it up? What would he think of my culinary adventures since he was a culinarian himself? Who would have thought I would have followed in his steps with words (albeit meager and paltry in comparison) and food?
Enjoy Emily Dickinson this week instead of photos:
WHY?
The murmur of a bee
A witchcraft yieldeth me.
If any ask me why,
‘T were easier to die
Than tell.
The red upon the hill
Taketh away my will;
If anybody sneer,
Take care, for God is here,
That’s all.
The breaking of the day
Addeth to my degree;
If any ask me how,
Artist, who drew me so,
Must tell!
This week’s Food Memories are DISH Las Vegas with my main squeeze, drinks and dinner with the Partial Posse to celebrate a birthday and a promotion, a perfect BLT with my house smoked bacon and home grown tomatoes and dinner with Sister Nancy and friend Lisa “Wormuth”.
Autumn in New York – Richard Gere and Winona Ryder
