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“New Year’s is a harmless annual
institution, of no particular use to anybody save as a scapegoat for
promiscuous drunks, and friendly calls and humbug resolutions.” “And
now we welcome the new year. Full of things that have never been. Be
at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let every
new year find you a better man.” Mark Twain.
As 2025 comes to an end many of us applaud its exit, some of us
would like to put the brakes on it and savor it longer, but in the
end 2026 arrives and delivers to us all it has to offer.
I remember back to the celebrations of New Year’s Eve past. For some
reason, many of them were spent with someone in the family sick in
bed. Christmas was too merry or too demanding, and a parent, child,
or sibling would succumb to said adversity. It seemed as if it was
the norm of the first decade of Mac’s and my marriage. I would just
automatically know to have chicken noodle soup on the stove, and
board games for those pouting about having to stay home. Usually,
the culprit was Mac himself. He’d overdo during the season and
surrender to the bed and the boys, and I would happily have our own
party. We would binge on watching TV, playing games, and eating
ourselves silly.
Now that I’m older the endless
parties, and driving in the Illinois New Year’s Eve night and
weather is beyond me. However, the eating is not! Yay!
When I still lived at home Mother would make Dad oyster stew for
every New Year’s Eve. How awful. Just looking at oysters is
disgusting. They look like great big ole snot gurgling. I said such
to my father one time and was sent from the table for the rest of
the evening. Notice the “one time” comment. Mother made me try the
stew another year, saying it tasted better than it looked. I eyed
the creamy broth, the butter floating on top, the dark snotty blobs
and the dear face of my momma. I took a big spoonful and downed it
for her. My reaction was such that I was yet again banned from the
table by Dad.
The only quote by Woody Allen that I agree with is, “I will not eat
oysters. I want my food dead. Not sick. Not wounded. Dead.”
Mom was fair. She always had a pot of her delicious chili simmering
alongside Dad’s oyster stew. Our only concession was that we had to
eat oyster crackers in our chili the few times that Dad required his
oyster stew. That was an easy compromise. I just learned not to look
at Dad’s stew and to try not to breathe in oyster fumes. For those
of you who love the concoction of mucus and cream, may God bless you
richly. This farm girl cannot get with that program.
Amazing Facts Home…” Oysters can change their gender multiple times
during their life.” Hmmm, that’s thought provoking. “They’re one of
the few animals that humans eat both raw and alive.” Not this human.
“Oysters have been consumed by humans for at least 4,000 years.”
Facts are stranger than fiction. “Ostrea-phobia is the fear of
oysters.” Yep….I’m going to add that to my medical list of allergies
and anxieties.
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At one time, our shop was in the
middle of an old strip mall. We were next door to Cattani’s Rental
Equipment. Every New Year’s Eve they would make enough Bagna Cauda
to feed the town. The first year they did this, I turned my
Scot/Irish farmer’s nose up in disgust and couldn’t imagine trying
it. My Mac, on the other hand, had no qualms in leaving our shop in
my hands and diving headfirst into the Bagna Cauda bowl. Now, for
those of you who don’t know…..this dish is make of garlic,
anchovies, garlic, butter, garlic, and sometimes cream. Bagna Cauda
is Italian for “hot bath”. It did seem Mac took a bath in it. Once
you eat this, your body excretes it out your every pore for the next
three weeks. It is disgusting. My eyes teared up whenever he came
near. He absolutely reeked. He. Didn’t. Care.
The next year, Cattani’s made an even
bigger batch. My Mac’s mouth was watering all morning as it heated
and brewed. In self-defense I marched over hand in hand with him to
try it. It’s kept over a hot flame to keep it warm as you dip fresh
vegetables or thick fresh bread into it. You can, as I said, use
cream or not. My theory is if you use that poundage of butter,
what’s the calories of a gallon of cream? I. Was. Pathetic. I
couldn’t get enough of it. People passing on the street two blocks
away commented about the smell. It lingered in Cattani’s shop for
weeks. It stuck on us as Flick’s tongue stuck on the frozen flagpole
after being triple dog dared in “A Christmas Story.” Garlic,
anchovies, butter, calibrating fluid, and diesel fuel permeated the
air for a month. The stench was worth it. We were used to the latter
as we worked with diesel. It just added to the ambiance of our
establishment.
Black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day is a time-honored tradition served
with cornbread. Mom took this and made it her own ritual using ham
and beans with cornbread. Yum! Yum! She’d buy the dry Great Northern
beans and have me search through them for any rocks and debris. Once
declared safe, we’d soak them in water overnight and cook them all
day. It. Was. Delicious. The saltiness of the ham, the creamy smooth
texture of the beans, the cornbread doused in Karo syrup was
intoxicating. What a meal! My thought is it is a much better way to
start a year. Almost made up for ending the previous night with
oyster stew. Almost.
“Celebrate endings…for they precede new beginnings” Jonathan
Lockwood Huie
L. Maxine McQueen may be contacted at
maxmac.1@juno.com
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