6160 A Diary of the Urban Gardener and Cook

And... we're back from Belgium.  A healthy dose of Bruges and Brussels, and a fast walking tour of Paris the day we flew out (since the tickets were free, we had to fly out of Paris versus Brussels) all means there are three new photo galleries that have landed on the website (and the pictures came out fantastic).

Prior to leaving, I seemed to get inundated with emails from the website asking "why Belgium"?  As such, I'll be posting a pair of entries this weekend regarding the trip which will hopefully cue everyone in as to why (one on the time in Bruges, one on the time in Brussels).  In a nutshell, anyone who has an interest in architecture, garden design, European history, is a practicing Catholic or has a foodie bent is exactly "why Belgium".  Brussels is often nicknamed "Little Paris" (but with so much better accessability and so less expensive... ie, we were able to get into the magnificent Cathedrale Sts Michel et Gudule by opening the front door along with the sizable crowd that surrounded us; compare this to the line for Notre Dame in Paris which was four and a half hour wait.  And don't even make me start the discussion of the outrageous prices in Paris...).  I'm going to structure the two write-ups with a smidgeon of history, a healthy dose of architecture & gardening commentary (Restoration Hardware certainly took notice of Belgium - the last two years their catalog has been completely dominated by Belgian design), the usual touristy content, and restaurant/foodie stuff. 

While we were gone, tremendous progress has been made on the 'Home Sweet Wreck' front.  While we continue to work with the City of St Louis and architects on how to address the house itself, the gardens in back are being steadily revamped.  New cobbled pathways and large sweeping beds of Japanese Maples and Evergreens have taken hold.  So... yes, photo content continues to be added to the photo gallery tracking the evolution of this new property.

The front porch revamp project at 6160, structurally, is complete.  Columns, rails, etc... have all been installed in glossy white and soft grays.  The demolition of the front porch itself, however, damaged some of the interior front porch components (such as beadboard and moulding trims).  As such, we're in the process of removing the impacted areas and replacing it.  So have no doubt, the revamped front porch photos are coming (once finalized).  But... depending on how many emails I receive, I may add a "preview" for everyone to see the changes thus far.

Life can be so utterly unpredictable.  Most people use that expression when explaining some unfortunate situation that arises out of the blue;  for me at present, it's the complete opposite, as we have purchased the house next door to us and it's thrilling.

The exact mirror of 6160 to some extent, the property is allowing us to essentially take our double sized lot and double it again.  There are multiple facets we will be tracking on the website - the changes to the home as well as the complete installation, renovation, and incorporation of the back yard into the gardens of 6160. 

It's incredibly exciting... and abit daunting... because in tandem with all these changes, we will be launching three books over the coming months.  Drawing deeply from the website, the first book is complete and tracks 6160 through the course of a year.  The second book, already under construction, covers various collections and plant gatherings in the house and garden.  The third will be tracking the incorporation of the adjacent property into 6160.

And finally, after what feels like over a thousand emails, yes I will setup a Facebook account.  Have patience!  Don't forget we had already kicked off the demolition and rebuild of the front porch, and the trip to Belgium is right around the corner too.  But everything will come together for what I assume is going to be one gangbuster June and July.

In the meantime, we are having a really beautfiul Spring here in St Louis, and the gardens most definitely show it.  The Whiteout roses look spectacular, the Japanese Maples are filling out and taking on a look of antiquity and maturity, the Sages are in full bloom and the new Azaleas were a definite improvement by the Orchid House.  With everything looking so lush so fast, I've been reluctant to plant Orchids this year at all (I don't want "Jungle Love" to be hummed by every visitor to the garden...).  So the Orchid House may remain a still life this year.  We'll see.  But don't forget to check the Spring 2012 Photo gallery as it continues to receive uploads (as does the Orchard photo gallery).

Hello everyone and in response to all the emails, no I didn't fall off the face of the earth...  With the front porch demolition and rebuild in full swing, little time has been available for web content.  Photos of what is turning out to be a very pleasant Spring, however, are being uploaded regularly.

Some upcoming web content that will land in the coming weeks:

• Back garden revisions:  blocking eyesores and minimizing "greenout"
• A study of herbs (continued):  this series was very popular last year, so I'll pick right up again this year
• A touch of silver:  saving the salvaged ironworks at 6160
• The Orchard in 2012
• Japanese Garden aesthetics (a simpleton's overview)
• Mirepoix:  the holy trinity of cooking
• A study of blue cheese
• Spring recipes

I've avoided taking pictures of the destruction and reconstruction of the front porch project, but once completed, will be setting up a "Front Garden 2012" photo gallery.  So keep checking back - the project is slated to run for only another week to ten days...

While January is the month where interiors are assessed for functionality and possible improvements, February is always the month I stroll the gardens of 6160 to assess what's working and what's not.  The stroll this month, while productive, was quite disconcerting. 

A rigorous inspection today confirmed my suspicions - the very mild winter to date has ensured the plants are thoroughly confused.  Rhododendrons and Peonies have dime sized flower buds already formed, while Honeysuckle and English Ivy is increasingly changing from purple to green.  A peek into the herb beds revealed sweeps of fresh Lemon Balm pushing up through last year's dead foliage.  And winter has at least five to six more weeks... 

Oh well. 

While in the rear garden, little changes are needed this spring save for a shifting of the pillar arbor by the Japanese Maple Courtyard to the Clematis & Sweet Pea garden.  Windows need reglazing in the orchid house and potting shed, but that's maintenance versus improvements.  In the front garden, however, I will more than likely remove swaths of Bugleweed and plant about nine additional Bloomerang Purple Lilacs. 

Traditional Lilacs can be somewhat unwieldly - treelike shrubs towering over eight feet tall, prone to powdery mildew, and once-blooming.  Worse, when you try to trim/sheer/maintain them, you risk eliminating the subsequent year's flower show.  And since Lilacs do not change color in Autumn (they simply drop their leaves), that means traditional Lilacs are a once a year show (ie, sheer off the blooms by accident and exactly what purpose is that plant serving in your garden...). 

Bloomerang is quite different;  topping out at about five feet, they repeat bloom throughout the season and can be sheered to maintain size (you may not have repeat blooms for abit after the sheering, but you can be confident they will bloom again that season after a window of regrowth).  While they do exhibit the traditional Lilac scent, know that it is diminished somewhat.  However, this compromise is easily worth it given the greater resistance to powdery mildew, the easier maintenance, and extended bloom season.  The Bloomerangs currently dotting the gardens of 6160 have been a magnet for area hummingbirds, bees, and butterflies.  So this low maintenance option is loaded with positives.

From a renovation perspective, the front of the house has two projects coming quickly - one very simple, one not so much...  On the easy side, iron gate that cradles the Crape Myrtle as well as the old iron roof cresting that graces the front garden will be repainted and rustproofed a hammered silver (this will go well with the roof).  On the not so easy side of the equation, the 100+ year old front porch, which is now shifting and sagging west due to foundational issues it's suffering from, is now tugging at the very front facade of 6160.  As such, the entire front porch will be demolished and rebuilt this spring. 

Of course, if winter weather would just keep on at its current pace, the front porch could be started tomorrow...

Thanks so much for the relentless emails over the last few weeks.  Yes, I've been offline for abit; while work has required a good amount of time closing out 2011 and preparing associates for 2012 objectives, I've also gone back to school for French language training as well as Italian cooking.  With a trip to Belgium just weeks away, the idea of becoming fully fluent in French became increasingly intriguing to me.  Further, with many of my recipes moving in my repertoire from "new" to "go to", I needed to continue expanding my capabilities on the cooking front.

If time permits this weekend, I'll begin filling the site with some of my newest "successful" recipes, from Baked Ziti - Penne to Lemon Turkey Cutlets to Butternut Squash Soup with Ricotta Quenelles. 

January is always an interesting time at 6160.   While most of my gardening friends have moved to "armchair gardening" (a phrase coined for those individuals who in the absence of the ability to garden at all because of the Winter season turn to reading about gardening to fill the time) we suddenly discovered that our kitchen project of replacing the old birch countertop with solid quartz was going to need to shift forward rather quickly.  Right after a wonderful New Years Eve party we found the telltale split in the wood by the sink (the sink and its constant exposure to water is the downfall of wood countertops everywhere...).  As I outlined the kitchen project for our contractor, the customary "while he's doing this I think I'm gonna changeout that" scenario began to take place in my mind; and of course, I began to introduce my changes before he even got started.  As such, the kitchen is already beginning to morph to make it both more functional and (in my estimation) attractive.

January is also the month where as Christmas decorations come down and the house returns to a sense of normalcy, the functional evaluation of the space takes place.  Coming right out of the holidays it was clear we needed yet more storage at 6160.   A key change many of you noted in the "Early Winter Interiors" photo log I started a couple weeks ago was the storage chest I built in the Living Room.  Its artistic "mentor" if you will was the milk crate sitting in the second floor sitting room.  What made it fun was taking a chain and beating the living daylights out of it to distress it, then decoupaging an old French winery label to it. 

While for most of St Louis' residents January is a month where cabin fever has just begun to set in, French classes, Cooking classes, and changeouts to the 19th Century Kitchen at 6160 have me completely occupied; to be honest, I'm glad not to have the opportunity to go into the gardens right now - at least I can stay focused!

So stay tuned - recipes are on the way...

With a trip planned this spring to revisit my favorite place on the planet, I thought it might be a great idea to drop in a few quick hits on why everyone should find time to visit this wonderful place.  Belgium truly is the most beautiful country in the world.  While many of the traditional European haunts have a negative caveat tied to some aspect of where they're visiting (common examples we all hear: I love Germany and London but...good grief the food...  I love Paris and Milan but... good grief they're so expensive...  I love Rome and Athens but... good grief they're so dirty...), there are no caveats to Belgium and it literally lights the soul on fire.  This writing could belabour all the winning aspects of Belgian culture - its food (imagine the very best of French food... in German quantity), its architecture (from Medieval to Art Deco to even the modern glass palaces of the European Union), etc... throughout many centuries (example:  the backwards culture of the Hapsburgs took a monumental step forward after Maximillian visited Brussels and Bruges in the 1400s and determined to model Austria after the beauty and wealth he encountered), but I would rather focus in a very minimalist sense on why I am thoroughly addicted to this tiny cultural powerhouse and let the readers' interest be piqued.

A country the size of Maryland, Belgium has over ten million people and is one of the most densely populated countries in the world.  Where situations like this generally lead to a sense of claustrophic trashiness, Belgium, by contrast, is a visual feast of meticulous parks and gardens, stunning architecture, amazing food and stylish transportation.  Literally - imagine breathtaking train stations that are hailed across the globe as architectural genius along with the slender, old world street cars that in America, we adore...  In fact, Lonely Planet as of 2010 announced that Belgium was the single most stunning country that continued to be criminally overlooked.  Which is fine by me, since I can enjoy the best of French, Dutch, and Germanic cultures at reasonable prices.  Where Paris and much of France feels like you leave wondering how many paychecks you just forfeited, Belgium is a land that leaves one stunned by the beauty but not broke...

While there, I will be of course be visiting Antwerp (Rubenshuis, the home of P.P. Rubens, has one of the most beautiful gardens I have ever seen), Ghent (Gravensteen Castle, here I come...), and the chateaus of Wallonia (the gorgeous castles and verdent estates of French speaking Belgium).  However, two cities (Bruges and Brussels) are where I plan to linger most.  Often referred to as the Venice of the North, the perfectly preserved medieval town of Bruges is filled with romantic canals, pointy gilded architecture, and amazing old world cafes.  Brussels, the captial of Belgium, is openly acknowledged as the most beautiful capital in the entire European Union.  Whether lingering in the Grand Plas (the central square in Brussels with buildings dating to the 1400s, and now a UNESCO heritage site), shopping in the Galleries St. Hubert (the first enclosed shopping mall in the world dating back to the mid 1800s), enjoying wine and beer at Le Falstaff (a 19th century gilded age brasserie), dining on Mussels in white wine broth at Au View Bruxelles (one of my favorite haunts to dine in), or strolling the lonely monastery gardens and decaying abbeys that surround the city (many of monasteries are also breweries - monks have to do something between prayers...), Brussels is a literal feast for the senses.  And let's not forget the chocolate - this is chocolate lovers' paradise.

And best of all, no car needed.  Every major Belgian city is walkable and compact, with wonderful slender streetcars for those times you need to get from one side of town to the other.  Further, nearly every Belgian city is about thirty minutes or less from Brussels due to the kingdom having one of the best train networks in Europe.  And just to keep it interesting, as mentioned previous the nation is known for having visually astounding, world reknowned train stations.  Antwerp station is considered an architectural masterpiece and referred to as "Railway Cathedral" - rightfully so, both from an interior and exterior perspective. 

So that everyone can have a sense of just how jaw droppingly gorgeous Belgium is, I've uploaded some old photos into a photo gallery.  Enjoy...  because just loading the photographs I know I did...

Christmas Eve at 6160, much like any other home, is filled with a number of traditions (albeit not necessarily "traditional" in the true sense of the word).  Some of course are carried on as family traditions, while others grew over time.  And one is simply a function of 6160's location (and is one of the oddest traditions I can recount for everyone).

The morning of Christmas Eve was chilly and wintery in appearance; blizzards tore a path from northern New Mexico through Kansas earlier in the week, and fortunately, shifted south of St Louis.  However, this did not look like the case as morning arrived.  Billowy gray and white clouds smothered the sky, with the sun being a shifty opaque blot on the horizon.  Thus began the absolute strangest Christmas Eve tradition at 6160 - the congregation of crows. 

Scientists are still unsure of all the reasons crows congregate in massive flocks, but throughout the week of Christmas they literally smother the trees at 6160.  Crows are viewed as one of the most intelligent of all God's creation, and the number one hypothesis regarding the congregation pattern - protection from predators and information sharing (crows are so intelligent they actually "share" information like gossips at work.  For example, it's known they share funerary information when another crow dies; M.I.T. and other institutions actually tracked crows "mourning" at places where other crows died - it's abit spooky.  Spookier, crows can answer "questions", if you will, in proper sequential order;  crows and their intelligence could literally be its own blog). 

On the farm back in the early 1980's, there was a crow that had been domesticated and escaped, but thrived on human company.  My sister and I had named him "Joe Crow" because he would wait at the bus stop for us in the morning and always flew there exactly when we were dropped off after school.  Its owners had taught it a number of phrases, my favorite being "How Ya Doin?", to which I always replied "I'm fine how YOU doin?", which must have been the reply the owners gave because Joe Crow would fly around us cawing and laughing.  He was an awesome bird, and one of the reasons I absolutely love crows.  So the week of Christmas, I always rush to the windows and garden when I hear the first sounds of the crows, and always toss leftover bread onto the Japanese Maple Courtyard for them.

Fortunately, the wintery morning gave way to a bright, sunny afternoon.  The crows had departed for Forest Park, as had I with the dogs.  While walking the expanse of the park in the cold, clean air is always wonderful before a two day cooking and feeding fest, the absence of snow tends to give it a somewhat dull and lifeless look.  Upon returning from the walk come Christmas Day preparations, which are incredibly important since Christmas Day entails cooking for family from 8:30am until 4:30pm.  With this much cooking afoot, preparations on Christmas Eve are key from both an execution as well as sanity perspective.  An old wooden tray with a French winery label decoupaged onto the top is brought out for Christmas Day "predinner wine", a custom that has slowly eased into other family and friends traditions (I continue to suspect they were just looking for an excuse to have cocktails before dinner like we were).  The cobblestone hued wooden server is brought out from storage and placed in front of the bookcases, with white stoneware and silverplated flatware readied for the Christmas Day dinner whose primary components are whole ham, butternut squash & pumpkin puree, potatoes gratin' and cinnamon glazed apples. 

Once 6160 is readied for the onslaught of family on the 25th, it's off to the Missouri Botanical Garden to look at the holiday display.  It almost always entails toy trains and poinsettias, but this year we were advised there would be a plethora of different evergreens as well as incorporation of flowering houseplants.  The display this year was fantastic, with verdant cedars ringed with white flowering cyclamen, as well as white poinsettia "kissing balls", a perennial replacement for Mistletoe.  There was even a train track set with miniature St Louis streetcars, a direct reference to 1944's "Meet Me In St Louis" with Judy Garland and Margaret O'Brien. 

Next it's off to 4:30 mass at St James the Greater.  I rarely if ever attend Midnight Mass, let alone Christmas Day Mass.  Midnight Mass is always hard to attend given the cooking regimen that begins just a few hours later, and Christmas Day Mass is too lengthy with all the singing (sorry Father Johnson - just sayin...).  Upon returning, candles laden with essential oils of fir, pine, clove, and nutmeg are lit throughout the house, filling the expanse with every good scent imaginable.  Way back on the farm as well as during my college years (where I encountered one of the most intelligent doctors I've ever met), I was informed to never forget the importance of scent.  A direct quote: "some of the most beautiful scenes in the world can feel bland and abstract in absence of scent; conversely, some of the most common and everyday vignettes can be transported to the sublime because of scent".  Every time we have guests over during the holiday season, I'm always asked for advice on their Christmas decorating.  My response is always the same - spare no expense on scent.  Williams-Sonoma holiday candles fit this bill nicely...

Because of all the cooking and feasting on Christmas Day, one of the longest traditions at 6160 is Christmas Eve dinner.  For over a decade the menu has entailed nothing more than freshly made Cioppino with a crusty loaf of french bread.  This very light meal literally bursts with flavor and is extraordinarily simple to make.  While in San Francisco the broth tends to be thin, I much prefer a thicker consistency where tomato feels more like a puree than like a broth.  Unlike San Francisco Cioppinos, those at 6160 are filled primarily with shellfish; on Christmas Eve, this is simply mussels and clams. 

The evening of Christmas Eve also entails the gift exchange with Bob (he can't appear to be receiving too many gifts in front of the family on Christmas Day or "gift envy" arises...) and old Holiday movie classics.  We tend to gravitate to the the original "Christmas Carol" with Reginald Owen, and this year appears to be targeting the same pattern.  Dating back to 1938, this movie has a number of incredibly funny scenes, my favorite of which is when Scrooge tells Marley (in this film adaptation only)  "well if you must be going Jacob... don't let me keep you".   Althought not really true to the novel, absolutely priceless...  It astounds me how many people have never read "A Christmas Carol" and just how truly dark Dickens' novel was (it was a ghost story for crying out loud).  What's even more interesting is when films try to move closer to trueness to the novel, critics rebel and state it lacks "the spirit of Christmas".  Maybe the critics should learn to read the book version prior to seeing the film - just a thought...

Christmas Eve ends with prepping for Christmas Day cooking, which in essence consists of two fairly large meals.  For the brunch, the prep work means french croissant-like pastry dough moves from freezer to refrigerator to allow it to rise overnight, after which it will be glazed with cinnamon, brown sugar, cloves, nutmeg, and a sprinkling of shredded pecans.  Mounds of oranges are left on a tray for juicing, which has to include pulp (for me, if there are no pulpy juicy bits, why bother with fresh orange juice).  After our trip to Rome back in 2007, we learned to appreciate Turkish espresso;  abit pricey, we procure it especially for the Christmas Day brunch (who doesn't need a great tasting start to the day).  Pots of Rosemary are brought down from the second floor sitting room to brighten up the brunch table, after which they will move back to the sitting room windowsill.  For the late afternoon dinner, whole boned ham is glazed with a maple syrup, brown sugar and bourbon sauce.  Butternut Squash and Sugar Pie Pumpkins are pulled from the bin in the shed and brought into the kitchen, to be pureed the next day with maple syrup and a sprinkle of apple pie spices.  Heaps of Irish potatoes are piled into a mixing bowl and readied for slicing into a rich and cheesy potatoes gratin', while granny smith apples are mounded in a nearby basket for glazing the next day. 

The Christmas Day menu:

Brunch

French cinnamon sticky buns

Scrambled eggs

Turkey sausage

High pulp fresh squeezed orange juice

Turkish espresso

Dinner

Stuffed Mushrooms with goat cheese, yellow onion and pancetta

Asparagus and Yellow Bell Peppers seared in balsamic vinegar

Whole bone ham with maple, brown sugar and bourbon glaze

Butternut Squash and Pumpkin puree with hints of cinnamon, clove, nutmeg and black pepper

Potatoes gratin'

Whole berry cranberry and orange zest relish

Cinnamon glazed apples

Chocolate cream pie

Raspberry cobbler

To everyone that emailed asking "tell us about Christmas Eve and Christmas Day", here you go.  And here's wishing everyone a safe and blessed 2012.

Happy holidays -

With the onset of Winter, reading seems to always take a hard turn towards classical literature at 6160. This year proves to be no exception. What's important about these novels is you can return to them time and time again and they feel as fresh as the first time you read them, with each new reading providing some insight, some twist of language, that was missed previously.

1. Fathers and Sons - I have five all time favorite authors (Honore de Balzac, Theodore Dreiser, Jane Austen, Ellis Peters, and Ivan Turgenev). This novel, by Turgenev, I have read countless times and am always reminded of the very first time I read it. Having spent most of my childhood in the 70s, I recall my parents endlessly discussing the rebellious nature of "my generation" and how the hippies, free love, and counterculture of the 60s introduced all this unpleasantness. Fresh out of high school, I had gone on a classical literature "tear", if you will; it was during this time I first read Turgenev. Fathers and Sons, written in 1862, was a total eye opener - this teen angst and rebelliousness my parents blamed on the 60s had been around time immemorial (maybe they meant the 1860s when Turgenev penned the novel?). The book is not really a trip back in time; it's far more relevant than many would suspect. Another plus - his style of writing is clean and direct.

2. Madame Bovary - as a complete opposite on the spectrum sits Flaubert and his most famous novel, Madame Bovary, written in 1857. While his writing tends to be florid and dramatic (he was notorious for searching for "le mot juste" which translated means "the right word"), from a sheer entertainment perspective one can hardly go wrong by taking one part somewhat clever slut, one part dullard middle class husband, and one part nasty blackmailing merchant and stirring vigorously (the book was beyond obscene for its time). Madame Bovary is one of those literary oddities where you really don't like any of the characters you're encountering and yet, you definitely don't mind watching the drama unfold. Honore de Balzac follows a somewhat similar path in his writing (maybe it's a French thing...); however, what makes Balzac one of my all time favorite authors is that he realizes how truly awful the characters are and ensures you are laughing along the way, whereas Flaubert tends to feel more soap opera. But I could use a good soap opera-like experience that doesn't involve a cast member from Jersey Shore...

Looking back on Christmases of my childhood, I remember my parents went all out on the decorating and in grand 70's style (artifical everything and lights anywhere you could fit a strand). Everything was so riddled with electric glow it's a wonder anyone slept between Black Friday and the day after New Year's (when we traditionally took down our decorations). This obviously impacted how I think about Christmas decorations at 6160. For me, it has to feel very natural, it has to feel very vintage, and it cannot require the entire output of one electric power producing facility.

While throngs of shoppers swarm malls and outlets on Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving is fairly subdued at 6160 and is devoted solely to leftovers, Christmas decorating, and old movies on TCM. The only journey from the house entails the coffee house for morning espresso and a stop at the nursery down the street for ropes of cypress, a wreath, and a small fir tree.

Once home from the nursery, the Christmas decorating begins in earnest. Cypress garlands are draped down the banister in the stairwell as well as the doorways in the living room, with remnant pieces layered in the windows. Hollies that bank the front steps are finally trimmed, with trimmings placed meticulously atop cabinets throughout the house and stuffed in old silverplate cups. The wreath always finds itself propped on the floor against the bench by the tree; it's always enveloped with vintage pearl lights. Antique tear drop silver & glass ornaments hang from the small tree and glisten endlessly in reflection of the wreath lights. The old tarnished picture holders atop the bench now display holiday postcards dating to the early 1900s, with extra postcards piled into an old silverplate butler's tray. Vintage crystal garlands drape the bench and help to offset this sea of greenery. Mercury glass dominates the entire scheme, with the antique silver-glassed ornaments filling urns, mounded in farm baskets, and even piled into the old mercantile jars in the living room.

Savory herbs are brought in from the Orchard and are brought down from the sitting room as needed for holiday dinners; this ensures a natural element (versus a "Made in China" affect). Richly scented cypress and vanilla candles are brought out and placed in the room addition, ensuring clean, evergreen aromatics fill the house. On the farm, we kept a big pot of water on the stove throughout the winter; set at a low boil, it was used to humidify the warm dry air that filled the house. At 6160, we use an old french teakettle for the same purpose; however, to this we add a few mulling spices so that the entire first floor is filled with the heady scent of clove and cinnamon.

If the Friday after Thanksgiving is devoted to Christmas decorating, then "Black Saturday" would be the more appropriate term for holiday shopping at 6160. A veritable smorgasborg of gift certificates are secured that morning, with holiday shopping essentially done after one trip to the Italian grocery & specialty stores on The Hill. I'm a huge fan of black and white photography, so the gifts are then placed in beautiful Christmas cards with black & white scenes of serene, snowy bridges or still wintery gardens. Instead of placing the presents under the tree, at 6160 the cards all fit snugly in an old french wire basket sitting on a side chair in the dining room (almost looking like a mailroom "outbox"). A child's silverplate cup from the late 1890s is placed next to it; stuffed with holly trimmings, it never fails that all visitors seem to realize instantly "the gifts are in the basket next to this cup".

In all, Christmas decorating at 6160 takes about two hours, during which time I manage to catch up on an old movie on TCM (with a penchant for Humphrey Bogart films) and down a great deal of mulled cider. The affair ends with warm turkey sandwiches on toasted oatmeal bread and a side of cranberry orange relish.

It's remarkable the impact that flavors and scent can have on special occasions; the scents and flavors of "Christmas Decorating Friday" and "Black Saturday" are memorable indeed...

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. A cooking extravaganza with all my favorite foods combined with an afternoon of nonstop football and family at hand, what's not to like? With family splashed across New York, as a child we would frequently go to visit them on Thanksgiving - which of course meant standing in the cold watching the Macy's Parade. It feels so long ago - at this point, it's more like a montage of photographic stills and sensations. I remember it was always difficult to get to the actual parade route; large numbers of street closures meant weaving through streets like gerbal tubes to get to our destination. And although there were years it was unseasonably warm, it never was on the years we went. So.... along the way, we would always stop at the same coffee shop year after year (there were no Starbucks back then...) so that my aunts, uncles, etc... could all get espressos and coffees; for me, it was always a hot chocolate (much less for drinking, more to keep my hands warm). As we would get closer, I always noted the trees of Central Park were so much like those in St Louis at this time of year, with many of the leaves already stripped and those that remained were fading fast.

Throngs of people were all about us, with the "white noise" of crowds like at a baseball game (but louder, closer, and continuous). And then in the distance we could here marching band music; softly at first, but notably the "white noise" of the crowd in the distance was escalating. And soon the pitch would increase in intensity, and within minutes Skyscraper-like balloons, marching bands, television celebrities and cheering crowds filled the morning. As Santa on his sleigh would close the parade, we would already have started walking back to my aunt & uncle's flat; "the women" would set to work in the Pullman kitchen (my first encounter with a Pullman kitchen - it would impact me greatly as it was a complete model of efficient cooking; 6160 has a strong Pullman kitchen affect), while "the men" went to the living room for the football marathon. The day long affair ended with pumpkin pie and german chocolate cake (we are German...), old black & white movies (for some reason Humphrey Bogart or Barbara Stanwyck movies always seemed to be on), and discussions of Christmas.

I always remember waking the next morning to big bands and swing music; my aunt and uncle were huge fans (as am I) and would have the old radio in the kitchen dialed in to a local station. Back on the farm in St Louis, every Saturday night while cleaning the chicken coop I always had KMOX tuned in to follow the hockey game, after which Charlie Menees would kick in with a Big Band and Swing show. This Saturday night routine, coupled with the fond memories of Thanksgiving in New York with my "cool" aunt and uncle, had a powerful influence on me and how I view the holiday. Unlike the Black Fridays of today's generation, the morning after Thanksgiving was more leisurely (or at least it seemed as much to me). With Ella Fitzgerald hitting notes in the kitchen with perfect pitch and a percolator coffee pot that looked like a space capsule bubbling away (an image only the 1970's could have delivered), my aunt would appear with croissants and one blueberry muffin (that was for me) from the bakery across the street. That blueberry muffin was actually one of the high points of the visit; I would think about it constantly throughout the year. Even in the sea of fresh baked croissants you could smell the blueberries and butter, and the taste was to die for; not crumbly, not dry, and not too rich. It was the best blueberry muffin I have ever had; sadly, the bakery has long since passed but the memory of their blueberry muffins will live with me forever.

And off we'd go.

My family was never one to pound out Christmas shopping the day after Thanksgiving. Friday was more focused on windowshopping while spending time together, my aunt and my mother catching up on the times and fashions. I of course was mesmerized just by the sheer number of people and the monstrous size of the buildings (let alone the constant noise). Salvation Army bell ringers and singers (they had singers back then too) were at street corners everywhere; I was always pestering my dad and uncle for change to drop in the bucket. After a morning filled with the sights and sounds New York could deliver (along with some fortunate as well as unfortunate smells), we'd end the excursion with a stop at Union Square to purchase Christmas trimmings as well as a quick pop back to the bakery across from their flat to secure loaves of crusty bread for turkey sandwiches. That night, as we ate leftovers, we'd decorate the flat for Christmas.

It was Saturday, as I recall, that the major shopping occurred, and what a sight that was. All the adults in my family, so jovial and connected as we'd leave the apartment, would literally scatter in opposite directions the moment we stepped foot from the building. My mother used to joke that our family on the Saturday after Thanksgiving in New York was like picking up a rock on the farm, when bugs and whatnot would run in all directions. Everyone would return at various times throughout the day, scurrying to their respective rooms with bags crinkling under their coats, desperate to hide their acquired treasures from prying eyes.

This year, Thanksgiving bore a great deal of resemblance to the Thanksgivings of my childhood. The day began cold, very cold; dark gray wintery skies and chill, moist air seemed to signal a surprise snow shower was about to hit (which is exactly what happened in 2010...). The Emperor One Japanese Maple literally looked like it was on fire in the garden thanks to the dark gray start to the day. The Macy's Parade, splashed across the flatscreen in the Living Room, was disappointing; it seems to have transitioned from massive balloons and marching bands to musicians I'm barely familiar with lip synching on floats alongside Broadyway vignettes from shows I've never heard of. Oh well. The night before, I'd shifted the new dining server from the Shed to the dining room. Sitting proudly in front of the bookshelves, the server was custom made by my contractor, who literally designed it with shelves to specifically fit the serving pieces in the old dining room cupboard. A linen tablecloth from Denmark (with Nestle advertising - of all things...) was spread across the table, with a french iron basket filled with white mini pumpkins as the centerpiece. Toile pitchers filled with savory herbs from the Orchard were brought in for the cooking marathon that lied ahead.

This year's menu:

Bacon-wrapped Scallops

Asparagus, Mushrooms, and Red Peppers seared in rosemary balsamic

Roast Turkey

Mushroom Gravy

Red Skin Buttermilk Mashed Potatoes

Fresh Cut Corn

Cranberry and Orange Zest Relish

Cranberry Orange Bread

Maple and Pumpkin Whoopie Pies

Pumpkin Pie

Wines were intriguing; I found myself yet again the only white drinker. So even though the ice bucket in the dining room dry sink was filled with crushed ice and chilled bottles Santa Margherita, the family instead worked its way through a variety of reds furnished by the Williams-Sonoma wine club.

The weather altered dramatically as the afternoon progressed; out of no where it suddenly became sunny and unusually warm (although you could tell by the chill and blustery wind that this anomoly was temporary at best). Dining together was a slow and happy affair; as the Packers whallopped the Lions, we channel surfed only to land on "Sixteen Candles", a movie that is about to turn 30 years old (good Lord... where have the years gone!). Family departed as the sun was setting, leaving time to put the house back in order after a long day entertaining.

True to form, Friday isn't all that Black at 6160. Just as in days gone by, the only retailer visited was the nursery down the street, where ropes of red cedar were purchased en masse and the annual haggling over a tree that needed to be "slightly larger than tabletop but not over four feet tall". Hollies in the front were trimmed (finally, if you were to ask some of the readers of this website!) and cuttings placed throughout the house. Antique silverplate and mercury glass were brought out, as were antique post cards from the late 19th century. Nearly the entire morning of Black Friday is dedicated to putting Christmas decorations into effect at 6160, whereas the afternoon entails putting the garden to bed for the winter. Herbs are brought inside to overwinter in the second floor sitting room, pots are emptied and stored in the Shed, and the kitchen is filled with cuttings of everything imaginable to cook with for the rest of the weekend (a final fling, if you will, with the garden).

Saturday, just like the days gone by in New York, is the magic day for finishing the Christmas shopping here at 6160. It's funny how you reach a point in your life where you don't really want to give "things", you want to give "experiences". Thus I often gift friends, family, and coworkers with giftcards, foods, and wines from the specialty stores on the Hill. Letting the people you enjoy being with experience the tastes, flavors, delicacies, and scents of some of the best foods and wines available - that's an experience that should be shared. Perhaps they will find something in one of those stores that remind them of trips they've taken to Italy (many have) or something to make special dinners with friends and family that much more special. Better still, perhaps they will find a food or foods that they themselves relish like the blueberry muffin from the New York bakery back in my childhood.