Holidays Mean Trouble (part 9 - by Margaret Ullrich)

    Ma wasn't the only one who ignored the new holidays.

       

    Aunt Demi believed the Maltese calendar had enough holy days and holidays.  She would not allow Mother’s Day to be observed in her house.  When her children brought gifts, she ignored them.  She just thought her children were trying to get her into a good mood before they asked her for something.  

    Following Aunt Demi’s example, Ma was always suspicious when we brought home our creations.

    “Sure, sure.  Mother’s Day, of course, special sure...  We’ll see,” Ma grabbed the coffee pot and retreated to the kitchen.

    Aunt Demi huffed and worked on her crocheting.  After a few minutes, she muttered, “Who needs this...  Mother’s Day?  We have enough work to do with all the feastdays the church stuck us with.  You trying to kill this woman with holidays?  Netta, you’re not doing anything for this garbage, are you?”

    Ma left the safety of the kitchen and returned to the war front.  Hoping to avoid a fight between her sisters-in-law, Ma tried to change the subject.  “Madonna.  Where does the time go?  Peter, Charlie and Vinnie have been playing bocci for an hour.  They’ll  be hungry.”  

    While Liz copied a recipe, Ma went to the kitchen to prepare a snack for the men.  “Tina!  Get off that phone and put these chairs away!”

Holidays Mean Trouble (part 8 - by Margaret Ullrich)

    “A holiday and you won’t be eating here,”  Ma repeated softly while she cleared the table. 

    Ma breathed a sigh of relief as she carried the plates to the kitchen.  Liz had just told her, in front of everybody, that there was going to be a holiday and that she would be eating all she wanted someplace else.  What this had to do with mothers was still a mystery to Ma.  

    But, to be honest, it didn't matter.  Liz would be eating somewhere else.  Someone else would have to feed Liz.  Someone else would have to clean up after Liz. 

    Mother’s Day was not a special day for my Ma.  They really didn’t celebrate it in Malta.  For the first five years she had lived in America she saw it on the calendar.  She regarded it in the same way in which she regarded Hanukkah or Chinese New Year’s.  It was just one of those things that other people celebrated in America.  She hoped the folks who celebrated it enjoyed it.  But she firmly believed that she didn't have to do anything about it just because it was on the calendar. 

    Liz was going to eat holiday food somewhere else.

    Suddenly Ma saw the value, the absolute need, for American holidays.  

    When Ma returned, she decided she wanted to circle the date of this wonderful holiday which she could basically ignore, kitchenwise.  “Hmm...  Liz...  Liz...”  Aunt Liz stopped chewing and smiled at Ma.  “This Mother’s Day Brunch.  When is it?”  

    Liz swallowed.  “Why, on Mother’s Day, of course.”  

    Liz searched through the bowl for another nut, then paused before crushing a Brazil nut.  Suddenly she realized something about her new in-law.  She decided she needed to be absolutely clear for Ma's benefit.  “The second Sunday in May.  You’re joking, right?  I couldn’t believe it when Charlie said Maltese don’t have Mother’s Day.”

    Liz put down her Brazil nut.  “You DO know you’re supposed to do something, don’t you?  You ARE doing something special for Mother’s Day, aren’t you?”

Holidays Mean Trouble (part 7 - by Margaret Ullrich)

    Liz told Ma, “Annie, the lamb you made today was very good.”  Aunt Demi snorted.  Ma looked nervous.  Demi's snorting meant more than a sinus condition.

    Wanting to score a few more points with her new husband's sister, Aunt Liz smiled and explained the finer points of American haute cuisine.  “My family always had baked ham for Easter.  Without garlic.  Baked ham is traditional in America.  It’s easier, Annie.”  Aunt Demi snorted again.

    Ma winced.  She knew Liz didn’t mean any harm.  ‘Annie’ was a proper American name.  Ma’s name, Annetta, was Maltese for Anne.  She knew Americans often added ‘ie’ to the end of the beginning part of friends’ names.  Her friend Deborah had asked her to call her ‘Debbie’.

    But, in Malta, family and close friends used the last part of names.  Ma was used to being called ‘Netta’.  She didn’t want to cause a problem for her brother Charlie.  She just wished his wife would call her ‘Netta’.   

  

    Aunt Demi took upon herself the heavy responsibility of explaining the finer points of Maltese haute cuisine.  “Easier is not the point of a holiday.  Hmmph.  For a holiday you kill yourself making something that’s too much trouble.  Like the kannoli I made for today.  Then everybody knows they have to eat a lot of it, whether they want to or not.  Eh...  Then you know you had a holiday.”  

    Liz considered this bit of Maltese culture and cracked another walnut.  Satisfied that she had done her job as the family matriarch, Demi went back to her crocheting.  

    Then Liz made her big announcement.  “Annie, your brother Charlie’s such a sweetheart!  He’s taking my Mom and me out to Club Safari for a Mother’s Day Brunch.  Annie, why don’t you come with us?”

    “What’s a brunch?”  Ma knew that Liz loved to talk about food almost as much as she loved to eat it.

    “Why, a brunch is a magnificent spread of scrambled eggs, chicken livers, Eggs Benedict, sausages, golden French toast, English muffins and an iced fresh fruit tray.”  Liz’s eyes grew moist.  “There’ll be a crumb-topped Smithfield ham to be savored in thin, thin slices with hot buttered biscuits and corn bread.”

    Aunt Demi was not impressed.  “Waste of money to eat out.  What kind of people eat food that a stranger cooked?”

    Liz was deep in Mother's Day Brunchland.  In an ecstatic daze, she continued, “We can help ourselves to everything and eat all we want.”  Then she added what was to her the cherry on her Mother’s Day celebration cake.  

    “We’ll be there all day.”

Holidays Mean Trouble (part 6 - by Margaret Ullrich)

    It got quiet.  Aunt Demi then decided a few comments on Ma’s cooking were necessary.  Just to liven things up.  

    “Netta, I have to say.  Food here doesn’t taste the same like food at home.  My Mama had a recipe for fenek bit-tewm.  Oh, the taste.  Ask my brother.  Maybe he still remembers how it’s supposed to taste.” 

   

    Cut to the quick, Ma ran to fetch her cookbook muttering,  “What’re you talking about?  I made her fenek bit-tewm last month.  You and Liz were here.”   

    Ma flipped through the battered and stained notebook.  Finally she found the recipe and showed it to Aunt Demi.  

    Aunt Demi scanned the page.  “This is her recipe?” 

    “Sure.  Exact.”  Aunt Demi examined the ingredients. “You didn’t scrimp?  Twelve cloves?”

    “I can count.”

    Aunt Demi shut the book and set it down.  “You made fenek.  Fine.  But you didn’t put enough garlic in it.”  

    Liz picked up the cookbook, flipped through it and asked, “Was that the rabbit stew with a lot of garlic?”  

    Aunt Demi sighed.  “Liz, for you, that was a lot of garlic.  The recipe is called fenek bit-tewm.  BIT-TEWM.  With garlic.  Hmmph...  I couldn’t taste the garlic.”

    Ma smiled and said, “Isn’t it funny.  I didn’t have any leftovers.  Demi, correct me if I’m wrong, but you had three helpings.”

    Aunt Demi muttered, “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” and went back to her crocheting.

    Softly Ma said, “Maybe there’s something wrong with your mouth.”  

    Aunt Demi heard her.  “Hmmph.  I taste fine.  The fenek didn’t.” 

Holidays Mean Trouble (part 5 - by Margaret Ullrich)

    Ma had had enough of Mrs. Kekelia getting chummy with members of her family.  She started hustling Mrs. Kekelia to the door.  “I’m sure your family is wondering what’s keeping you.  Thank you for Tina’s...  treat.  You should start cooking for your company now.”  
  

    Shaking Ma off, Mrs. Kekelia turned to me.  “Tina, you come mit us.  Haf such plans.  Take family und see everyting.  Tina, you like see show?”
    Would I!  But, before I could say anything, Ma said, “Tina will be busy” and went back to hustling Mrs. Kekelia away from the table.


    When they got to the door, Mrs. Kekelia had an inspiration.  “You not know ven...”
    “And you don’t know what we’ll be doing in May.  We’re busy.”  And with that, Ma slammed the door on Mrs. Kekelia.  I went to the living room to enjoy the rest of my strudel.


    Aunt Demi looked up from her crocheting and said, “Netta, it was a good idea for you to make the Easter dinner this year.  I have to save my strength.  I’m going to have my time in hell with my sister-in-law.” 
    Liz grabbed a cashew and asked, “Which sister-in-law is that?”
    Aunt Demi dismissed Liz.  “What does it matter to you?  You never met her.”


    Ma grabbed an opportunity to sit.  “Demi, refresh my memory.  Which one is coming?”
    Aunt Demi sighed.  “Eh.  Who else would give me this trouble?  You know,”  Aunt Demi cupped her hand around her nose.  Ma had a good memory.
    “Stella?”


    Aunt Demi gave a huge sigh.  “With her husband and three boys.  Hmmph.  I have to scrub the house top to bottom.”
    Liz loved company, even when it wasn't hers.  “There’s so much to see...  They’ll have a great time!” 


    Aunt Demi gave Liz a withering, ‘you simple-minded child’ look, sighed and explained, “They’re coming to see family, not to have a great time.”

Holidays Mean Trouble (part 4 - by Margaret Ullrich)

Liz was stunned. “You’re joking, right? The costumes, the dancing, the music. You should’ve seen it. Charlie wanted to buy tickets for Peter, you and the kids to come to the show with us. You really should see a live Broadway show once in a while.” Turning to Mrs. Kekelia, Liz continued, “We tried to talk them into coming.”

Mrs. Kekelia nodded, “Tsk. I know. Ich bin ein New Yorker. I see all shows. Dey see notting, go no vere.”
Liz said, “Ain’t that the truth.”
Ma went back to her eternal excuse. “We were working.”
Mrs. Schultz wasn't impressed with Ma's priorities. “Tsk. Alvays mit vorking.”


Aunt Demi didn’t want this talk of Broadway shows to lead her brother Peter and his family into going into Manhattan. Who knew where that could lead? Demi announced, “They saw enough.”


Ma got worried when she saw that Demi had put down her crocheting. She didn't want a real old fashioned fight this Easter. Demi was getting on in years, but she did have her crocheting hook. She could still draw blood. Ma didn't know how she could explain that to Liz. Watching Demi, Ma said, “Grazie but I told my brother to save his money. We saw the best parts. That was enough.”


Liz was really warming up to Mrs. Kekelia. Crushing another nut, Liz told her, “Your family will have a great time. There’s so much to see.”
Nodding, Mrs. Kekelia agreed. “Yah. You und Charlie come mit us. I get tickets. More people, more fun.”
Liz beamed. “We’d love to.”


Aunt Demi huffed and went back to her crocheting.


Glancing at Ma, Mrs. Kekelia smiled and continued, “Und I cook all best recipes. No garlic. You come. I make plenty.” Mrs. Kekelia smiled broadly and patted her stomach. “Ven haf company, I alvays haf extra.”

Holidays Mean Trouble (part 3 - by Margaret Ullrich)

Ma glared at Liz, then turned to Mrs. Kekelia and smiled. Proudly, Ma said, “I’d offer you some lamb, but my family ate it all.”
Mrs. Kekelia, shocked at our food shortage, said, “Vat? You don’t cook extra for company? Is not polite to ration. Is not var time.”
Shaken, Ma said, “When you have a good recipe, they eat every bite.”

Mrs. Kekelia wasn't impressed. “Ven haf company, haf extra. Tsk. Foreign ways. Tsk. Haf letter from sister in Dussseldorf. Come mit family in May. I cook all her favorites und make plenty.”
Ma muttered, “How nice for your sister. You should start cooking now. Thank you for Tina’s . . . treat.”

Ignoring Ma, Mrs. Kekelia turned to me, “Tina, you come, eat, too. I haf plans. Take sister, see everyting. I show her everyting. Tina, you like see?”

Ma didn’t mind Mrs. Kekelia taking care of me while she was at work. But now Mrs. Kekelia was trying to mother me on Ma’s time. Ma wanted to reestablish her position as my official mother. “Tina will be busy.”
Mrs. Kekelia said, “You not know when...”
“And you don't know what my family will be doing,” Ma cut her off.


Not realizing what she was stepping into, Liz said, “It’s too bad My Fair Lady isn’t running anymore.”
Mrs. Kekelia said, “Yah. Vee see.”
Warming up to Ma's tenant, Liz said, “Charlie and I did, too.” Then she sang, “All I want is a room somewhere.”
Realizing that Ma had at least one civilized relative, Mrs. Kekelia sang along, “is room somevere."

Ma hummed the tune, then said, “We saw that on Ed Sullivan.”
“Sweetheart, you didn’t see the whole thing,” Liz said.
Ma muttered, “Sullivan shows the best parts. Who needs to see the whole thing?”


Demi nodded and agreed with Ma.

Holidays Mean Trouble (part 2 - by Margaret Ullrich)

It was Mrs. Kekelia, my parents’ tenant. Mr. and Mrs. Kekelia lived in the four-room apartment above the storefront part of our house. They’d been living there when Pop had bought the house, and my parents had decided to let them stay.

My parents needed every dollar, so they decided they didn’t need to use their apartment for extra space. When we moved into our four-room apartment, my parents slept in one bedroom, while Charlie and I slept in the other. After Charlie married, my sister Barbara and baby Angelo were moved from our parents’ bedroom to my bedroom.


Mrs Kekelia was a sturdy German woman in her early sixties. She loved to cook. When my parents bought the house, Ma asked Mrs. Kekelia to babysit me while she worked at Lily Tulip. It was convenient and my parents needed Ma’s salary to pay the mortgage.

Aunt Demi didn’t like my being exposed to American or German customs. But since my parents were our family’s pioneers in College Point, they didn’t have anyone else to help them.

Mrs Kekelia gave me a small package. “I come mit little Easter treat for mein little lebkuchen.”
I gave Mrs Kekelia a big hug. Demi stiffened when she saw me hug a non-relative. Ignoring Aunt Demi, I accepted Mrs. Kekelia's gift and said, “Danke... Thank you.” I unwrapped and bit the strudel.

Ma said, “Liz, you remember our tenant, Mrs. Kekelia.”
Sniffing the air, Mrs. Kekelia said, “I stay minute. Vas ist smell? Rabbit? Haf goot German recipe - hasenpfeffer. Rabbit stew. Tina like. You need -”
Ma said, “We had lamb.”

Liz belched and said, “I can still taste the garlic.”
Mrs. Kekelia understood. “Ach. Dat smell. Who can tell? Lamb, rabbit...”
Liz continued, “They put garlic or curry in everything.”

Stung by Liz’s apparent disapproval, Ma said, “I have a very nice Maltese recipe - fenek bit-tewm hu bil-Imbid. Rabbit stew. My family prefers it.”

Liz said, “That has garlic, too. My family always has baked ham for Easter. No garlic. Ham’s traditional in America.”

Holidays Mean Trouble (part 1 - by Margaret Ullrich)

A few days after Nadia and I decided to work together, Ma hosted our family’s Easter dinner. She had invited her brother Charlie and Pop’s sister Demi, along with their spouses.

That was more than enough holiday stress for anyone to handle.

Aunt Demi, Pop’s eldest sister, was a solid middle-aged matriarch who believed that it was her duty to make sure everyone behaved properly in the good, old-fashioned, decent Maltese way. She had her priorities: Maltese Culture, her family, Maltese food and God. She was determined to make sure her siblings and their families followed her example.

Clinging to Maltese traditions, as she remembered them from the forties, was Aunt Demi's cross to bear in New York City in 1964. It was a heavy cross. But she wasn’t about to put it down just to please a relative, especially a young American one. Sitting opposite my new Aunt Liz, Aunt Demi was crocheting lace and watching Liz eat . . . and eat.

Ma’s new sister-in-law, Liz, was a plump, blue-eyed, blond American. After they’d met at a bowling alley, Charlie had said that Liz was perfect, like a special order bowling ball. Pop said that, compared to a bowling ball, Liz wasn’t too fat. Charlie agreed and beamed.

Since Liz, at age twenty-four, was only ten years older than I was, Aunt Demi regarded Liz as just another child who needed training in Maltese wifely arts. Demi explained to Liz that her job as ‘A Holiday Guest in a Maltese Home’ was to sit and be served, not to help the hostess.

‘The Proper Maltese Hostess’ naturally had everything under control and would be mortally offended at any offer of help. So, after dinner, while the men were outside playing bocci, Liz stayed seated and finished off the mixed nuts.

Ma, a hardworking thirty-seven year old woman, was a tired Maltese Hostess But she soldiered on, cleaning up the mess from another holiday dinner she had hosted single handedly.

Ma wasn’t too thrilled about Maltese Tradition. She could’ve used some help folding the spare wood chairs and clearing the table. She also couldn’t believe how much Liz could eat.

Over the crunching of the nuts, we heard a knock at the door.