Antique Road Show - What Famous Person Slept Here?

Well, I must confess that as far as we know, nobody famous has slept in any of the beds I am going to show you in this post.  We don't really know the provenance of most of them.  Both my mother's family and my dad's family bought and sold antiques. My mother continued that tradition...once refusing to sell this desk she had purchased to re-sell after the potential buyer shared that she planned to paint it and my sister said, "oh no, that would ruin it."  Fifty years later it is still in the family, now owned by my niece who has everyone's permission to paint it if she wishes. (And we support Camille's decision to paint the twin beds coming up....)

Would you paint this piece?

To and fro and back again.

Beds:  My sister (not famous, except in the family for her legendary memory) slept in this bed after my parents moved from Hobbs, NM to Atlanta, GA.  Mama gave it to Rosalind when she moved to Albuquerque and into a one bedroom apartment and used the sleigh beds (in the photo below) so that she could have friends spend the night. Years later when my Mom moved from a one bed room apartment to a two bedroom one in her retirement community, Mom asked for it back.  Now that Mom is in Healthcare, it has returned to Rosalind's second bedroom.

These twin antique sleigh beds that my mother purchased in St. Louis at an estate sale (someone famous could have slept here before we owned them) and my sister and I slept in as a young girls, are now in California, newly painted by my daughter for her three-year-old twin's room.  At some point, I imagine the beds will be passed on to their children. Or perhaps to nieces and nephews.

$5.00 bed

This is my sister's bed.  It has a wonderful story. When my grandmother and her two sisters were young adult women, they went camping.  On the way home they noticed this bed frame leaning up against a tree in a farmer's yard.  They stopped and asked what he was going to do with it.  He said he was throwing it away, so they asked if they could buy it.  He said, "Well, you can just have it."  When they returned with the spanking new buckboard and their prosperous dentist father to help load the bed, he changed his mind and asked for five dollars!  Which they paid.  You will notice in the lower right of the pictures, the holes for the pegs to hold the ropes that would have supported a feather mattress.

My grandmother Rose's bed was passed on to my Uncle Bob and then to me.  I converted it into a queen size.  You can hardly tell that the mattress extends about 3 inches beyond the bed rails on either side supported by an iron kit that I purchased at a local mattress company.

I did buy a special mattress that is less deep than the current styles, so that you do not need a ladder to climb into the bed!  I am wondering if beds were so tall back then to take advantage of the fact that heat rises?  So the nearer the ceiling, the warmer you would be in the days before insulation and thermal windows when homes were heated by fireplaces and wood stoves?

Reminder:  Do you own something that is precious because it has been passed around or down in your family?  Post a comment below by clicking on the pencil or send an email to heathergaume@gmail.com.  Would love to see a photo as well.  Would like permission to post something about your story, but will honor requests to keep it private if you prefer.

I Love the Antique Road Show - What Famous Person set a cocktail down here?

Another family story is about a library table cut down to coffee table height.

Could Anna Pavlova have stood next to this table at a cocktail party?

My sister moved this coffee table to her house, after Uncle Ben was admitted to healthcare at the end of his life.  Before Uncle Ben moved to New Mexico and brought it with him, it had belonged to Uncle Bob, who purchased it from a friend, Elizabeth Vickers who owned a high end antiques shop. 

Family stories have it that it originally belonged to Pavlova's dance partner, Laurent Novikoff and that Elizabeth bought it from a friend of his after his death in New York.  We have no idea if this provenance could be proved since there are no written records.  The table was originally a library table that was cut down to make a coffee table and we don't think the legs are original to the piece.  Regardless of its origins, isn't it handsome?  

Photo via The Vintique Object

Detail of carving

Pavlova and Novikoff were pretty handsome as well.

Laurent Novikoff (1888-1956) graduated from Moscow's Bolshoi Ballet School in 1906. He danced alternatively between Diaghilev (1909 and 1919-1921) and Pavlova's company (1911-1914 and 1921-1928). Novikoff was ballet master at the Chicago Opera from 1919-1933, and the Metropolitan Opera in New York from 1941-1945.

Perhaps I will make a Pavlova sometime this week in honor of our possible connection to the famous ballerina.

The dessert is believed to have been created in honour of the dancer either during or after one of her tours to Australia and New Zealand in the 1920s. The nationality of its creator has been a source of argument between the two nations for many years, but formal research indicates New Zealand as the source.^[2]
The dessert is a popular dish and an important part of the national cuisine of both countries, and with its simple recipe, is frequently served during celebratory and holiday meals. (source, Wikipedia)
 
Want to make one too?  Here is a recipe...


Reminder:  I am looking for stories and photos of your family treasures (i.e. not necessarily valuable but precious to you none the less.)  Please email your story with photo to heathergaume@gmail.com

I Love the Antique Road Show-Part One

Oh how I love the Antique Road Show.  I love the hopes and the often times barely concealed greed glee when a piece turns out to be valuable beyond anyone's expectations.  But mostly I love the stories that go along with the pieces brought in with such pride.  I absolutely love it when someone says, "Well, no, I wouldn't ever consider selling it."  (Okay, my secret hoarder does rear its ugly head from time to time.)  Hush, girls, I do sometimes part with things.

In my family, we trade things.  Within the family that is.  Little things like the suitcase, full of silver trays, that moves from house to house depending on who is hosting a party, the hundred champagne glasses (all but a few at each person's house) kept conveniently in a box for transport, and big things like Tables, Beds, and Dressers. 

Tables.  This little table was made in 1846 out of cherry from an orchard on the family farm by my great-great-great uncle.  He gave it to Sarah Ellen Heatherly, his niece and my great-great grandmother.  She gave it to her granddaughter Ellen Heatherly Trax in 1926.  When great aunt Ellen died, it went to her sister, my great-aunt Mary Heatherly who was a maiden lady.  Great aunt Mary gave it to me in l974 when I had my first daughter and named her Heather Camille.  Although we call her Camille, as the daughter who carries part of the Heatherly name, she will inherit this piece next. The provenance is recorded on the bottom and sides of one of the drawers of this piece of our family history.

A writing desk: that once lived in my bachelor uncle's house.  There it served as an entry table which held the telephone, a beautiful antique green globed brass lamp, and was the command center of my uncle's day.  He read the morning paper there, smoked his first and last cigarette of the day, and telephoned his friends to plan dinner parties and make reservations for dinners out.  After Uncle Bob's death, it was one of the many pieces of furniture, china, lamps, etc. that his brother, Ben, shipped out to Rosalind, Russell and me when Ben, and his wife, Clara, closed the house they had shared with Bob, and moved into a retirement community in Easton, Md.

It was for a time, also an entry table in my Albuquerque house before we moved it to Santa Fe.  I have to admit that I was bit taken aback by my Mother's insistence that I also hang the artwork that Bob had used over it.  I refused.  No shrines for me!  Although my uncle had impeccable taste, it was very masculine. The painting was hung elsewhere.  The heavy glass ashtray was donated and the table, well polished with lemon oil to rid it of the smoke smell, became truly mine...at least for awhile.  It has moved three times more as we changed houses.

Now a dressing table in the master bath

If we ever get around to installing the jetted tub specified by the architect, it will move again, maybe to one of daughters' homes or maybe just somewhere else in mine.

Tomorrow, read about what famous person may have set a cocktail down on a library table.

I would love to hear about some of your family pieces...furniture, paintings, china, toys, etc. that have a story that goes with them.  There really isn't much room in the comments box and I would love to have a picture of your treasure with the story, so if you feel moved to write something, please email it to me at heathergaume@gmail.com.  If you would rather I did not write about it or post the photo, please let me know that as well, otherwise you might see it at a future date.

It was a busy Easter.

This year we did not have a huge family dinner at my house.  Our mothers are getting too frail to come to our house, so we took Easter to them at their retirement community.  Consequently the decor was much simpler and easier to transport.  Here is the table from last year. This year it was paper plates and cups, plastic utensils and paper napkins. 

This simpler decor was because I was very busy during Holy Week, making banners at the "Walk Through Holy Week" deanery wide event for families hosted this year by St. Chad's,

Preschool banners

attending some incredible services at St. Mark's including the very well done Stations of the Cross tableau by the Junior High Group (no photos since this was a service), stuffing several hundred (OK, I confess to counting things and there were 417) plastic eggs for the Resurrection Party which included an Easter Egg Hunt,

The living room was a mess for a couple of days before all the eggs were stuffed.

Robin tells an Easter Story while the eggs were hidden by the Rite-13 class.

Waiting....

The youngest are given a head start.

Parents all contributed eggs as well, so none of the children were disappointed...

Eggs Everywhere

The hunt is ended but no one wants to go back inside on this lovely Easter day even though the party continues in the Parish Hall...

With a cake

Checking out the loot.

A Bevy of Beauties

No eggs found, but happy to share some stories.

Turquoise seems the color of choice this year for frocks.

and lastly I have been doing some initial work on the Celebrity luncheon, "April in Paris" scheduled for next Thursday. 

For the "April in Paris" luncheon, I am using black and pink for the decorations. Here is a sneak peek.

Inspiration mock-up on my sewing table.

We will be doing six tables.  The church has black tablecloths that I will layer with the pink material (in the photo above) cut  into squares and the the napkin sized squares of black and white on top of that.  The centerpieces will be pink carnations in small boxes wrapped with black and white striped paper with a fluer de lis (imaged downloaded from the internet) glued on each side.  Quite some time ago, I purchased pink and white polka dot favor boxes for a baby shower that I ended up not using, so will use them for this event filled with Easter candy.  Still to do:  make the labels for the favor boxes, spray the iron Fluer de lis and the tabletop Eiffel towers black to match the rest of the decor, purchase the flowers, purchase the ingredients for the luncheon, and cook.

Speaking of cooking, here is the recipe for the Asparagus and Cheese Tart that I  found at My Little Bungalow  Claudia has wonderful photos and great tips so you may wish to click straight over there for more detailed instructions.

Ingredients to make one tart:
3/4 lb. thin to medium-sized asparagus, tough stalk ends snapped off
1/2 tablespoon olive oil
Course salt and freshly ground pepper
1 sheet frozen puff pastry (thawed 30 to 40 minutes at room temperature)
1/2 package Boursin cheese, garlic and fine herb flavor
1/2 cup grated gouda cheese
1 egg, beaten with a touch of water to make an egg wash
a
Directions:
1) Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. 
2) In a bowl, toss asparagus with olive oil, salt and pepper. Set aside.
3) Dust a large piece of parchment paper lightly with flour; unfold the thawed puff pastry onto the parchment, and dust pastry lightly with flour. Carefully roll out the pastry into a rectangle, roughly 10" x 15" or 11" x 14" (mine was about 11" x 12" which worked perfectly). Transfer pastry to a baking sheet. Using a paring knife, score a line around the perimeter of the pastry, about 1" in from edge, to create a border (do not cut all the way through). Using a fork, prick the dough all over within the border; this part will remain flat during baking while the border puffs up.
4) Crumble the Boursin cheese within the border, then sprinkle the gouda on top.
5)  Arrange asparagus in a single layer evenly over the cheese. Lightly brush tart border with egg wash.
6) Bake tart until asparagus is tender and pastry is golden brown, about 20 minutes. Let cool briefly before slicing. Serve warm or at room temperature.  Recipe originally from the April issue of House and Home.

I took this to a party Saturday evening and folks were fighting over it.  I promised the folks there to post the recipe, so here it is.  Thanks Claudia.

Photography Show coming up in Albuquerque

Friends...

 Betsy Butler


 and Celia Southwick

 to show work in the InSight, Women's Photography Exhibit at...

At the Fine Arts Building at Expo, New Mexico

Wierd Weather

On Monday evening I looked out the window, and "oh no, that isn't rain it's snow!"

And there was no solar gain yesterday at our off-the- grid house...so no baking, no running the vacuum, no using the washer or dryer.  Lamps... only one at a time.  Remember to turn off bathroom light when you leave.  After days of sunshine and record high temperatures we are back to winter.  It is dark early with the clouds obscuring the mountain top.  Hoping my bare naked flower beds will survive without their protective mulch which I had already removed.

My hanging baskets came inside, I cut all the prematurely opening iris that might be mashed by heavy wet snow, and Norm brought in wood for what hopefully will be our last wood stove fire of this season.  The cat and the dog are fluffing their fur and cozy by the fire.  So what's a girl to do but curl up and read a book?  Drat, I wish that I had picked up "The Hunger Games" since we may be snowed in tomorrow.

All my very well read literary friends assure me I will love it.  Not sure exactly how to take that..Love it because it is really good or love it because I wouldn't know any better? It has been favorabley compared by at least one reviewer to Madeline L'Engle's,  "A Swiftly Tilting Planet" which was a favorite of mine as a young adult, although my own children found it disturbing and refused to hear more of it when I tried to read it to them before they were probably old enough.
I am resisting the pressure to see the movie before I read the book, partly because I HATE SEEING THE MOVIE FIRST, and partly because I am sure my imagination will create a world that will be my very own. 

I do have a stack of books waiting, however, so will choose one of them if our road is treacherous tomorrow. I just finished the book I mentioned in yesterday's post, and while it may not win any literary prizes, I thought the theme of transformation was well developed, and I really began to care enough about the characters, that I was sad when the book ended, which is always my standard for recommending a book.  

Plus the descriptions of what was cooking, were delicious enough that I am planning to make some of the recipes.  

This is what I am taking to a friend's house on Saturday (found not in the book, but on Pinterest.) originally from the April issue of House and Home but I found it at My Little Bungalow Blog with some good tips the author of this blog discovered while making it.

Asparagus and Cheese Tart

Green chile stew on the propane stove top requires no electricity so we had that for dinner.  The oven, on the other hand, requires constant electricity to stay lit, so no yummy cheddar cheese biscuits to go with the stew. 

And sure enough, Tuesday morning we woke up to 8" of snow that turned into a foot of snow by noon.

Took photo at 8"

 Must remind myself to wait, wait, wait next year to start planting in the yard no matter how hot it is!

Boiling Water

When I married (too many years ago to share), I could only boil water, make brownies, marinara sauce, French toast, and pie. My new husband was shocked.

My sister was the chef in the family.  She just loved to mix and stir, dice and chop, braise and saute.  You could find her in the kitchen, having eschewed the so coveted "Easy-Bake-Oven" as being too small shortly after its arrival, standing on a stool, using my Mom's hand mixer to whip up egg whites for a meringue.  At the age of eight! 

When in high school, I was enlisted to start the meringue for Baked Alaska for my parent's anniversary party.  Gamely setting out, I carefully cracked the twelve eggs and separated the egg yolks from the whites, put the ingredients in the bowl and beat, and beat, and beat...no fluffy white foam, just a wet slimy mess in the bottom of the bowl.  Glancing over, my sister offered, "you must have gotten some yolk in there."  Throw that out, wash the beaters and bowl in hot soapy water, and start again.

Went through the process again.  Same result... "Couldn't we just have cake and ice cream?" I asked Rosalind.  "No! Go to the store and get more eggs."

This time I watched her try.  "Aren't you going to put in the sugar and vanilla?" I asked.  "Is THAT what you did?" she replied, shaking her head.  And so I learned you must read through the entire recipe before you begin and don't even think of skipping steps and never ever just dump all the ingredients listed into a bowl unless that is what the recipe says to do.

Three dozen eggs later, we did have Baked Alaska.

And my love/hate relationship with cooking had begun.  I love to eat, hence I must cook, but I do have a lot of sympathy for the picture my daughter, Camille, recently posted on her blog about raising twins...

I did learn to cook and pretty well according to my friends and family, Norm did not starve or learn to hate marinara sauce or brownies and we are still married, but I must confess to loving to read about cooking, more than actually doing it.  I happily read recipes, cooking magazines, blogs about cooking and novels where food becomes a main character. 

Image via Amazon.com. (Click doesn't work, try the link below)

Currently I am reading "Good Enough to Eat" by Stacey Ballis.  Just barely into it, but so far, I love it. 

Other favorites include:

Pomegranate Soup

Pomegranate Soup

by Marsha Mehran

3.53  ·  rating details  ·  1,163 ratings  ·  269 reviews

Beneath the holy mountain Croagh Patrick, in damp and lovely County Mayo, sits the small, sheltered village of Ballinacroagh. To the exotic Aminpour sisters, Ireland looks like a much-needed safe haven. It has been seven years since Marjan Aminpour fled Iran with her younger sisters, Bahar and Layla, and she hopes that in Ballinacroagh, a land of “crazed sheep and dizzying roads,” they might finally find a home.

From the kitchen of an old pastry shop on Main Mall, the sisters set about creating a Persian oasis. Soon sensuous wafts of cardamom, cinnamon, and saffron float through the streets–an exotic aroma that announces the opening of the Babylon Café, and a shock to a town that generally subsists on boiled cabbage and Guinness served at the local tavern. And it is an affront to the senses of Ballinacroagh’s uncrowned king, Thomas McGuire. After trying to buy the old pastry shop for years and failing, Thomas is enraged to find it occupied–and by foreigners, no less.

 

Babette's Feast and Other Anecdotes of Destiny

by Karen Blixen, Isak Dinesen

4.14  ·  rating details  ·  389 ratings  ·  43 reviews

Martine and Philippa are the daughters of a forceful priest of a Lutheran sect. Reared to deny all earthly pleasures, they live out their lives performing good work on behalf of the inhabitants of the tiny Scandinavian fishing village in which they reside. When Babette, the French refugee to whom they have given shelter, asks to repay them by preparing a sumptuous feast,...more

Paperback, 244 pages

Published June 1st 1993 by Vintage Books (first published 1958)

And my all time favorite...maybe because of the featured ingredient...

Chocolat

Joanne Harris

424 Reviews

Doubleday Canada, Nov 14, 2000 - Fiction - 320 pages

When the exotic stranger Vianne Rocher arrives in the old French village of Lansquenet and opens a chocolate boutique called "La Celeste Praline" directly across the square from the church, Father Reynaud identifies her as a serious danger to his flock. It is the beginning of Lent: the traditional season of self-denial. The priest says she'll be out of business by Easter. To make matters worse, Vianne does not go to church and has a penchant for superstition. Like her mother, she can read Tarot cards. But she begins to win over customers with her smiles, her intuition for everyone's favourites, and her delightful confections. Her shop provides a place, too, for secrets to be whispered, grievances aired. She begins to shake up the rigid morality of the community. Vianne's plans for an Easter Chocolate Festival divide the whole community. Can the solemnity of the Church compare with the pagan passion of a chocolate eclair? For the first time, here is a novel in which chocolate enjoys its true importance, emerging as an agent of transformation.

 Recently I found a blog, Molly's Books that lists the author's favorite books about food and I now have a few new books to add to my list.

Please don't click away to the next blog without letting me know your favorite book about food in the comments below!  I may just want to avoid cooking sometime next week as well.