Joy to the World

After two months running around the vast Indian continent, hating it, loving it, getting fat and losing my hair, I had to return to Los Angeles to finally find my guru. He arrived on Christmas eve in the guise of a 30 inch tall, 20 pound, eight-toothed, happy, drooling, dimpled one-year-old who waddled and toppled around my apartment like a drunken sailor babbling in languages none of us understood but somehow managed to obey.

I followed him everywhere he went, placing myself between his grasping little fingers and electric wall outlets, shielding his head from dangerous corners, and crawling around on my hands and knees behind him like an acolyte from the moment he woke up in the morning until he fell asleep at night. I cooked for him, picked up after him, wiped up his messes, protected him from all harm, hugged and kissed him, and worshipped him like a god.

He is my grandson, Nico, who came with his excellent parents from San Francisco to visit for a few days.

My apartment, in no way baby proof, is full of pitfalls for a toddler who needs to grab, bang, taste and explore everything he sees. It was a humbling experience. I ran behind Nico while he merrily tore my house apart, pulled open kitchen drawers and cabinets, turned knobs, banged pot covers, wooden spoons, and plastic containers on the floor.

I tried to protect him and my possessions from total destruction. Oh the things I noticed through his eyes: steep steps and sharp wrought iron railing, spaghetti-mess of wires from my computer, sharp-edged corners of furniture, breakable knick-knacks, houseplants, lamps, books, telephone wires, things—everything his to enjoy and mine to protect.

Meanwhile, I invited a gang over to present my little half-Chinese, half Jewish sparkling-eyed giggling gourmet wonder-baby who gobbled up strawberries, asparagus, tangerines, apples, pretzels, carrots, potatoes, spinach, asparagus, cheddar cheese, yogurt, noodles, turkey and ham into a seeming bottomless pit.

Nothing makes a grandmother happier than that wide open toothy little mouth ready for another spoonful.

Of course I had to feed my other guests too. My son and his wife offered to cook the main course, a pasta dish created by Sarra, my good daughter-in-law. Before they arrived I had already prepared the vegetable and salad and set the table, so my part was done. What a pleasure to let others take over the kitchen while I played goo-goo-ga-ga with my delicious little grandson and introduced him to the guests.

Before long the sweet angel fell asleep in a nest we made of a feather duvet surrounded by cushions in a corner of the room while we ate dinner. After dinner we stood around ogling and adoring this beautiful sleeping wonder child, direct descendant of Moses and Confucius, and I couldn’t help but think about that other little Jewish child asleep in the manger way back then.

The menu: linguini pasta with oyster mushrooms and cream, radicchio flavored with lemon and red wine vinegar—adapted from a recipe from Mario Batali’s The Babbo Cookbook—and green salad. My friend Marcelina provided dessert which consisted of tangerines, two different varieties of dates, almonds and pistachio nuts, and another guest brought exquisite dark designer chocolate for anyone who could eat another bite.

I played Bollywood movie soundtracks streaming from my computer, we drank good red and white wines, the food was delicious, everyone came back for seconds, and the sweet baby slept peacefully throughout dinner.

Nico’s mom's Pasta
Serves 10

2 pounds de Cecco linguini
¼ cup olive oil
1 ½ pounds oyster mushrooms
2 large brown onions
1 pint of heavy cream
Salt and pepper
Flat-leaf Italian parsely

Chop onions and fry in olive oil in a large pan until soft and translucent. Cut mushrooms into large pieces and add to onions; stir over medium heat until wilted. Add cream, salt and pepper. Let sauce simmer about 15 minutes until thickened.

Follow package directions for pasta. Drain cooked pasta, place in individual bowls, ladle sauce over it, garnish with parsley, and pass around the table.

MARIO BATALI’S RADICCHIO
Serves 10

4 heads of radicchio
Rinds of 2 lemons sliced fine
1 large red onion chopped fine
¼ cup good olive oil
¼ cup red wine vinegar
Salt and pepper

Wash, core and quarter radicchio heads. In a large deep frying pan heat olive oil very hot, throw in chopped onions and lemon rind; stir until soft then throw in radicchio. Toss and turn radicchio until wilted, adding a few drops of water if necessary, pour red wine vinegar over it, sprinkle with salt and pepper, blend well. Pile on a warm plate and pass around the table.

Happy New Year!

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