HUMOR
My First Two Children Were Scarred for Life in 1973MIAMI BEACH, FL 05 October 2008 |
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In 1973 Victor was turning 28. He had a wife, and two children, Sara, a plump 16 month-old and Lonny, a long, bony 2 month-old. We lived in a sixth floor 600 square foot apartment with one bedroom, which the children shared in two cribs. We slept on a hide-away couch in the “living room”.
He was a second-year resident then and working really hard. I wanted to surprise him. I invited all his friends, who were all doctors and their wives, since we had no real social life at the time, to our house for a surprise 28th birthday party. His friends were very good at keeping secrets. Victor had always wanted a Suckling Pig. I was determined that that was exactly what he would have. I was very organized. I ordered the suckling pig from a butcher three weeks early. I made everything else possible on the menu ahead of time.
The day of the party I went to the butcher. I had one baby on my hip and one on a front pack, the dog was barking in the car. The suckling pig wasn’t in yet. Several hours later the suckling pig finally arrived and I had to make another trip. It was kind of scary-looking, all raw with the occasional tuft of bristly hair and all, so I hid it curled up in a box and kept it from my children’s sight. I would swear to you today that they NEVER saw it. It was not exactly suckling-size. It was more toddler-size. Maybe you would even say small adult size. It was bigger than I had envisioned.
It wouldn’t fit in the oven.
“Don’t panic!” I thought, “I’ll just cut the body in half and put the front end on the top shelf and the back end on the bottom shelf." I was young, I could accomplish anything.
Cutting a body in half is not as simple as you might think. There are bones; there is cartilage; there are small children who must be kept occupied, so they do not see their mother cutting an animal in half.
It was hours later than I had planned when I finally got the suckling pig in the oven. Both shelves. It takes a long time to cook a suckling pig that appeared to have been well passed suckling-age.
Victor came home, exhausted as usual, from work. Sara greeted him at the door with this line:
“DADDY! MOMMY MADE YOU A SURPRISE DOG!"
I didn’t breathe for some time, but Victor just replied: “That’s nice, Honey, I’m just going to lie down for a while.” Victor has always been somewhat oblivious. At this particular time, it turned to my advantage.
He heard what she said, you understand, but it didn’t make sense to him, so he disregarded it. I, on the other hand, had to deal with my children thinking I was cooking a DOG for their father’s birthday party! How could she have seen it? How could she believe that I would cook a dog to eat for a party?
Okay, back burner, (so to speak.)
Victor is turning 28 and all his friends and their significant others are coming over to our 600 square foot apartment for a many course meal for the surprise celebration. Really soon. Deal with cooking dogs for their father tomorrow. Victor is clueless. That is a good thing. Always look at the bright side.
The doorbell rang and rang and rang. People poured in. Victor was really surprised. He had never been surprised before. I never surprised him again, ever. He welcomed everyone into our apartment and proceeded to announce that his new drink was straight gin. Understand, Victor hardly ever drank at this time. He certainly never drank straight gin. Victor drank a tumbler of gin and promptly passed out. Cold. Down for the count.
Finally the Suckling Pig was cooked and everyone had a terrific time eating all the great food. I put the pig halves together and put daisies along the severing so no one would know that the poor thing was cut in half prior to cooking. I put daisies in its little eye sockets, since they exploded in the cooking process. (If it ever comes up for you, I learned while studying about how to cook a suckling pig that if you put an apple in its mouth when you begin, the apple will bake and then the mouth will close. The meat will then tear around its little face. Ruins the look. So. You first put a ball of tin foil in the little tyke’s mouth and, at the end, you take the tin foil out and switch it for an apple or a tomato so everything looks right.) Everything looked and tasted great. It’s too bad Victor missed his party. We all had fun. His friends just laid him out on a big chair and toasted him for his birthday.
In the morning, Victor was contrite. He missed his friends; he missed his party; he missed the Suckling Pig he always wanted. The pig head was all that was left. He was very sweet about how incredibly delicious the pig head was and how it was probably the best part of the pig. He never even mentioned his headache.
I still had the children thinking that their mother had cut a dog in half and put it on two shelves in the oven. She had cooked it and served it to guests. I had to try to explain that what they thought they saw, they actually didn’t. Not an easy sell. I’m not sure that today they still don’t believe that one time, one very SPECIAL time, Mom butchered a dog and cooked it for their Dad for his very important 28th birthday.
121 Comments »
Comment by Lenore |Edit Thishilarious. they didn’t seem to think it was bad that you’d butchered a dog. it was a surprise!
dad can drink like a champ now. achieving successful alcoholism is a slow-going process. you managed to master it when i was still young, though. luckily your personality disorders have faded in recent years and you no longer smash wine bottles over our heads. you still love to vomit in my pillow case when i come home to visit. i think you should work on that next.
no matter. it all worked out, because of the surprise dog.
(it doesn’t have to make sense).
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisI’ve been practicing throwing wine bottles at the mannekins for your visit at Thanksgiving.
(HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!)
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit Thisoops, mannequins, it’s french. I’m getting good, Lenore, really good.
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Comment by Pamela Norinsky |Edit ThisIrene,
All I can say is your intentions were good but shame on you for what you did to your children!!!
Pamela Norinsky
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisActually, that was the weird thing. We had a pet dog and yet Sara was all excited about our surprising her Daddy with a cooked dog. I would have expected some expression of revulsion, since this is what she believed was happening. Lonny was only two months old. I would be very surprised if he remembered this.
Comment by lonny |Edit Thisi dont remember this at all
though i do remember those great pictures of you and dad as younglings
so the eyes exploded eh?
that give me an idea…..
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Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisLonny, I am surprised that Sara didn’t tell you all about it when you were a little bit older.
Just for the visual, here, I did not SEE the eyes explode, the little oven didn’t have a glass window. They were there and they were sort of all over the oven door. Like that.
Comment by Tim |Edit ThisI’ve tried fish eyes over and over again. They just aren’t all that good. I don’t guess mammal eyes would be all that different. Probably good they exploded.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisDad ate the fish eyes in Japan and said they were good, except he said the lens was too tough to eat. I don’t think even the Japanese eat the lens, but I could be wrong.
I don’t think he’d hesitate to eat mammal eyes. Too bad they exploded, we may never know.
I think they eat sheep eyes in Turkey, but we weren’t offered them when we went there.
Comment by Lenore |Edit Thisalso, who cares about stuff that happened before i was born? sheesh.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisI know. Life began for EVERYONE the day YOU were born, huh? You just wait for Thanksgiving, kid.
Comment by Adam |Edit ThisIt’s true. By all accounts, I existed prior, but I swear I don’t recall it.
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Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisSee that’s the thing Lenore doesn’t understand, Adam. She was there but she just wasn’t getting any ATTENTION then. Therein lies the problem for her.
Comment by Keiko |Edit ThisI saw the picture of you and the pig before and wondered why it was decorated with daisy flowers. I thought that you wanted it to be a girl and put a skirt on it and fake eyelashes. Little did I know the eyes exploded and it was sawed in half. Awesome story.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisThanks, Keiko, were YOU to come to Thanksgiving, I would NEVER hit you with a wine bottle!
I didn’t know his little eyes would explode either, but I was undeterred. This was going to be a night for Victor to remember.
Unfortunately, he only remembers it in retrospect as the night he totally missed.
Comment by lonny |Edit Thisno really
is there a way to cook it so the eyes dont explode?
because i bet they are delicious
mmmm eye-y
when i turn 28 what will you make me?
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Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisActually I have been thinking of making a suckling pig again because for Christmas here the Cubans traditionally serve them and they are said to be the most delicious taste in the world.
Years ago, Jewish friends here tell us that they always knew it was Christmas because of the pigs hanging in the trees. You see they would slaughter the piglets and thus drain the blood. Nowadays, you just have to be very early and order a pig already dressed from a Cuban butcher. You have to do it months in advance or you have no chance of getting one. We tried a couple of years ago, but were too late.
I’m quite sure that typically the eyes are removed now before you even get it, so as to avoid the problem I had. They weren’t used to doing suckling pigs in the Bronx.
I would do it for Thanksgiving, but I think they are exclusively a Christmas treat.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisLonny, as far as eyes go and eating them, Dad eats the eyes of fish, he says they taste great but he says you can’t chew the lens. Too tough, even for him, Gristle King of the world.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisLonny, if you really wanted to eat the eyes, you’d have to remove them prior to roasting the piglet and perhaps poach them with lemon and butter and a bit of tarragon. Remember, though, the lens is pretty tough. The rest is juicy and soft and luscious.
Comment by Melissa (Irene's friend) |Edit ThisI actually do have a pig story……….
I do not eat piggie, do not let piggie parts in my house.
But.. one Christmas my neighbor asked if she could use my oven.
Of course. I say.
In her husband walked with a pig
Cut in half… the long way.
Wrapped in foil…cloven foot dangling.
He quickly backed out of my house when he saw I turned shades of green and white.
Said pig was quickly replaced with a turkey.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisOh Melissa, you are so fussy!
(Did the turkey have a wattle? I’ve always wondered how they would taste, cooked, of course. For reasons I don’t really understand, I only eat fish and beef raw.)
Comment by Melissa (Irene's friend) |Edit ThisNo Irene no wattle… you see they come all cleaned for you to pop into the oven. You know how I am with germs, could you see me plucking and cleaning a turkey? But I did love the daisy chain on the piggie, think I will put one on my thanksgiving turkey.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisNow I’m all disappointed. I really want to know what a turkey wattle tastes like cooked up for Thanksgiving! You have to go and be a germophobe, Melissa!
One hint: Don’t cook the daisies. (I have many other cooking hints, if anyone is interested….)
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Comment by Cecile |Edit ThisGreat story, one I didn’t know. How can that be?? Well anyway when I met you you were a fabulous cook so I believe you prepared a magnificent dinner. My eating rituals don’t include suckling pig, but if it did I bet it would be yummy. (I remember the days when I ate bacon!) Too bad Victor missed his own party. Surprise parties for guys are always a risk.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisCecile, you are so kind, but I must admit, it was a fabulous dinner. But that was the day I learned that you NEVER surprise Victor with anything. He needs to be prepared for all things.
All his, and our, other “surprises” were equally disastrous. (Usually involving one or more of our children.)
This is a funny story that reminds me of two pig stories. I think I might have to write one up as my next entry. Definitely now as funny as yours. I don’t know. I’d have to be pretty damn crafty to top a cooked dog-pig with exploding daisy eyes….
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisTWO pig stories? NL, have you had more than one life? You’ve certainly had more experiences than the average bear.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisNL, Why don’t you tell your double pig stories here? This is THE place for pig stories, you know…. Placement is everything.
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Funny story. 
I think I would be traumatized if I thought my Mum cooked a dog.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisThanks, Colin, I always loved your name but Colin Zion sort of rhymed and we thought maybe kids would make fun of that. ( Ryan and Brian were even worse because they were better rhymes.)
I’ve thought a lot about this and I think that Sara wasn’t traumatized because of her age. At 16 months, whatever your mother does is normal. Plus you feel the same way she does. If she’s excited, so are you. If she’s nervous, or angry, or happy, so are you. If I had done this when she had more of her own self-knowledge, I think she would still be complaining about the day I scared her to death. (Although she IS a vegetarian….)
Once upon a time when I lived on a crazy hippy backpacker island, I used to have to pass the butcher shop every morning on my way to the ferry. Without fail, there was always a dead pig in the doorway. Hooves chopped off, snout occasionally dangling appetizingly in the window. The thing grossed me out so much, that I became a vegetarian for 2 years. That’s not entirely true. I did have one ironic exception. Bacon. Go figure.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisErika Rae, bacon is ALWAYS an exception. It is the most wonderful taste and smell on earth.
When Sara decided to be vegetarian, (I think she was a sophomore in high school,) the day I truly believed she was serious was the day she turned down bacon. She was vegan for a few years in college, THAT made for some interesting Thanksgiving dinners. I believe I hit on her favorite: “Now and Zen”, it was WAY better than Tofurky, according to the vegetarians from whom I bought it and also according to Sara. I don’t know if you can still get it.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisErika Rae,
Have you and NL been hanging around together for years? You seem to have the same amazing ability to have lived in hundreds of places and done scores of things. I’ll bet you’re a couple!
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisErika Rae, this posted before I completed the sentence!
I was saying that…I bet you’re a couple of wandering gypsies!
There, now let’s see if THIS posts.
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OK - that is hilarious. And totally different connotations altogether.
To answer your question, I have never met the great NL Belardes in person before - although I certainly intend to one day!
I will own that my life somewhat resembles that of a wandering gypsy, though.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisYour being all married shot my theory to pieces, Erika Rae!
Comment by Adam |Edit ThisThe “surprise dog” story, finally contextualized. Fun.
I’m sure Sara simultaneously could and couldn’t differentiate. Couldn’t to the point where she recognized a “dog” when she saw one; could enough that it was no big deal.
My mother recalls when I was a toddler repeating a joke I heard and I interrupted to disclaim, “Not the kind of chicken you eat,” or something to that effect.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisAdam, that is so funny! Of course a child would differentiate between food and animal, the only exception being those children raised on a farm. That makes perfect sense. I can always count on you for insight.
Comment by John B |Edit ThisAwesome story! It’s hard to picture sweet little unassuming Irene going all Anthony Hopkins on a baby pig… But then again, if God didn’t want us to eat babies he probably wouldn’t have made them so delicious.
PS- I think your husband should just replace all the wine bottles in the house with plastic liquor bottles. That way you can’t give the kids any more concussions after you get drunk.
Come to think of it, they’re quite magnanimous for forgiving you so easily…
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisJohn B! I went “all Anthony Hopkins,” that is priceless!
You do have to remember that it wasn’t actually the “baby” pig I was promised. Since they weren’t used to ordering such things, it was well on its way to adulthood. Thus the difficulty jamming it in the oven.
And, John B, I bet Anthony Hopkins enjoyed doing things like that. I seriously seriously seriously didn’t like cutting him in half. It was super creepy.
And forget your idea of plastic wine bottles. I’m going to go to the liquor supermarket and see if I can find metal wine bottles. I’ll bet THAT would pack a punch! And it won’t be all the kids. Only Lenore, oh yeah, only Lenore….
Comment by John B |Edit ThisIrene I just want you to know that I’d be honored to be bashed over the head with your wine bottles. I realize that that’s just how you express affection. My mother liked to say I love you with frying pan missiles, but everyone says it differently. Stay away from my pillows though….
Also stay away from my cat, as she doesn’t wear a collar, looks delicious, and would easily fit into most modern crock pots. She just gave me an inquisitive meow… I think she’s pissed that I’d tell such a person that she looks delicious.
PS- You have the most slobbery gravitar ever.
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Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisWhoa, John B, Cast Iron frying pans can pack a real punch. Your mother must be quite strong to be able to throw and aim those heavy pans. What an affectionate mother you have!
Don’t worry about your cat. Too many of my children have cats and would take offense at stewed feline. Dogs too. I stay away from culinary treats based on canine or feline meat. A cook has to be sensitive to certain quirks.
Anyone who comes here looks like my gravitar. I have two huge dogs who love to kiss everyone and assume you all need to be kissed.
Comment by lonny |Edit Thisi would like to point out that since that experience my mother has made it a point to catch, cut in half, cook, and garnish with daisies every animal she can find that doesnt have a collar
she often cuts them apart to music and uses the innards to paint and make art
pretty cool eh?
i cant wait to see what bizarre road kill shorn in two we are having for tgivin’
i like rodents
personally
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisOkay, Lonny, you just made the bash on the head list. And in addition to the regular meal, you are getting cabybara. I know I can get one sent here on dry ice from the Amazon. We’ll have to cook that baby outside, they are intensely big rodents.
Oh well. I had a picture there but I have to say I could use some lessons on putting them up here. Actually, MORE lessons, since I had one already but it didn’t take.
If I can’t get a capybara, I know I can get a roadkill opossum. That will only be for you and Lenore, not big enough for the rest of us.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisI hope these Capybarras showed up. One has such a beautiful face and the other is in the jungle just chilling out.
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Comment by Tim |Edit ThisWe’d better be prepared for Mom to be drinking heavily over Thanksgiving. Bring your helmets, everyone.
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Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisHelmets? Oh, I know, because I’m going to be hitting you all over the heads with wine bottles again, right? Mister, I just might actually have the enjoyment of doing it, since I’m getting blamed for it everywhere!
Comment by Tim |Edit ThisWine bottles? I think not. Gin was/is your poison. Plus, the wine you bought came in boxes. Hitting someone with a box doesn’t really get your point across.
Comment by Irene Zion |Edit ThisThe wine I bought came in boxes? Uh uh. You can see from the picture it came in jugs. Big, cheap jugs.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisWell Lonny, I DO have standards. I would NEVER cook something that had a collar!
Comment by Sade |Edit ThisYou look loud and proud Irene, in the picture, pig in all it’s fanciful glory…an unexpected and decidedly fun post!
I’m from Nigeria and saw many an animal killed as a tot (when our neighbours celebrated Ramadan), goats in particular. They would blow them up like beach balls so they could cleanly sheer the hair off…and we would watch in wide-eyed amazement and fear. The heads always ended up in my neighbour’s freezer and when we would go to play we would gawk endlessly waiting for the goat-head (a delicacy reserved for the man of the house) to jump right out and swallow us whole! I’m sure I’m scarred deep down somewhere, no? : )
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisNah, they didn’t just do this stuff in Nigeria, Sade, the whole Midwest of the US is filled with people who refuse to eat lamb because of how cute they were on the farm.
My mother was raised on a farm in Manitoba, Canada. They did the same thing there. She didn’t have any qualms, though. She’d butcher anything. (See “Why My Brother Has Ten Fingers”.) (I would have put that in blue and sent you there, but I’m not there in my computer education yet.)
I never knew about the blowing them up part. That must have been amazing! I’d actually like to see that. That’s to make sheering the hair off easier? Cool!
I’ll have to tell Victor that the head really IS a delicacy for the man of the house. I think he was just trying to make up for being a boor at the party when he raved about the head the next day.
So many cultures don’t allow pork. It’s such a shame. I wish they could look into modern, clean ways of raising and killing and cooking it so everyone could have it.
Comment by Sade |Edit Thishehe…yes Victor should be proud, a delicacy indeed!
So after they blew up the goat, they would scald it in hot water and then sheer the sucker clean. I could never eat the meat though after the fact, because I’d already christened the goat(s) by then and felt like they were family or something. The trauma was immediate!
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Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisI know! How can you eat an animal you know and even named? This is why so many farmer girls don’t eat meat, or at least the cute stuff like lambs and goats. I LOVE goat, but I’ve never known a goat personally.
Sara, my serious one, went to Thailand for a summer to build homes and schools there. Unfortunately for her she was vegetarian and the people there got such a kick out of it that they tortured her by wringing the necks of chickens in front of her.
She and her group got a terrible food poisoning and had to be hospitalized. The kicker is that when they called us to tell us she was really sick and in the hospital, (it was before cell phones,) we were visiting the rest of the kids at camp in Wisconsin. We didn’t even know she was sick until we came home and played the answering machine. We were frantic, but by the time we got back all the kids were healthy and out of the hospital. Talk about guilt! We felt AWFUL!
Sara lost a good deal of weight on that trip because there was little she felt she could eat, plus the stuff she DID eat gave her food poisoning. It’s always the serious ones that have the most to deal with. Lenore would have joined in wringing the chickens necks, probably.
I can’t imagine how they all had the same parents and turned out so totally different from each other. Not one thing I learned from any one of them helped with any other. Seriously.
Comment by Sadie |Edit ThisThose photos make my heart pop into a thousand dancing parts.
The pig makes my stomach want to eat itself that looks so awesome…maybe a suckling pig is in order for graduation?
Something to keep in mind.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisHi Sadie!
Just make sure you use a butcher that is familiar with Suckling Pigs so you get one dressed correctly and the actual right size.
Even though ours was too big, it was scrumptious. All but the head was eaten. (But now we know we saved the most important part for the birthday boy.)
Comment by Amy |Edit ThisI had a suckling pig for my graduation and it was wonderful. I would never take on that cooking project to do on my own and I consider myself an accomplished cook. I only have one child and still can’t imagine doing all that on my own. When your young you can do anything right?
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisSee, Folks? Amy had a Cuban pig down here in Florida. They make the BEST pig roasts!
Amy, you could too cook a piglet yourself even though you have a little baby. Your husband is so helpful!
Comment by Marcia |Edit ThisThis was new to me, and I really enjoyed the photo of Irene proudly showing off the pig– like a successful magic trick. Ta-da!!!
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisBelieve me, Marcia, it WAS magic! The only thing that wasn’t magical was Victor’s unconscious state. We had to take a picture so that we could prove to Victor that this was his surprise gift. Otherwise, how could he know?
Comment by Ruthie |Edit ThisWhat a Fun life you have had!! So many cooking and eating adventures. May they continue always.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisWhoa, Ruthie, it sounds like you think it’s wrapping up here. I’m in no way ready to trot off into the distant beyond yet!
It was fun. Thankfully, it continues to be fun!
Comment by jmb |Edit ThisI present to you the most un-kosher and grisly
Jewish story of Love in all recorded mankind.
Other than the New Testament that is.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisShadow Man, you speak only the Truth! Always have.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisShadow Man, we are all waiting for your next piece. It’s been too long. Just saying….
Love the photos and love the story. And love that your kids all have something to say about this. Are the other kids jealous because you call yourself Lenore’s Mom in these posts and not THEIR mom? I think we should all reference ourselves to Lenore somehow (she’s so dang cute!). I may change my name to Lenore’s Friend on Nervous Breakdown.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisOh Jessica, that would only encourage Lenore! She needs no more encouragement to believing herself Queen of the world. The rest of the kids don’t care and she does, so it’s no contest.
Personally I can’t wait until she gets that first draft of her dissertation in so she can start writing again. I really miss it!
I wish I remembered how much that pig weighed. I just remember that the person taking the picture had to hurry or I was going to drop it because it was so heavy. I can’t remember what I put it on. If I remember correctly, I got a piece of plywood and put tin foil over it. Nothing was big enough to hold it intact. I didn’t go to all that trouble to serve it in pieces!
Still waiting to hear from Sara to see if she remembers this. She’s uber-busy, working and mothering, etc., so I just have to be patient. Patience is not one of my strong suits. At least this one had some grandchildren for me. The rest of them are useless.
Comment by Debby |Edit Thisfor Thanksgiving I’ll be thankful for 2 things: that we were Kosher and that my Mom couldn’t cook. Great story
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisDebby, you’d eat it now, though, right? It’s amazingly tender and delicious!
What did you do for Thanksgiving if your Mom couldn’t cook? Go out? Chinese?
My Mom cooked, but it was torture to be there because she was so nervous and jittery all the time. You just wanted it over with, so you could go upstairs and read and get away from the crazy family.
Five years ago, when my relationship was still fresh and new, my boyfriend announced he was hosting a Grey Cup party (this is Canadian Superbowl, and it happens in the fall). “Awesome!” I shouted. “I’ve always wanted to go to a football party!”
Not so fast. No girls allowed.
I cajoled and pleaded, pointed out all the ways in which I was not your typical “girl”…to no avail. The men, my boyfriend explained, would need their privacy, some freedom to do things it would be unfitting for a lady to witness.
When I pressed the issue, promising not to share the secrets with other women, he added only that it would not be “pretty”, and that perhaps it would have something to do with the suckling pig, and more specifically what they might do with the head.
I conjured all sorts of lewd activities (I mean come ON! what was I supposed to think?!), which kept me occupied long enough that the party came and went, and in the end, all they did with the head, this supposedly scandalous thing no lady should witness, was shove it in the necks of their shirts and take turns running around the house being a pigheaded male. Heh.
If only they knew what a woman could get up to, with a knife, a suckling pig, some wildflowers and a Big Birthday Surprise! You put those sissies to shame, Irene. Well played!
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisOh Amanda, this is hysterical! The boys wouldn’t let you come because they KNEW they looked like jackasses and they didn’t want you to see. Did they take any pictures? I would PAY to see those!
(I would have imagined all sorts of unseemly things going on with the head also! Really, what else could you think?)
Actually, they were pretty hilarious pictures…one dude wore a retro satin jacket, and since the pig face had frozen in a smile as it roasted, you can see the grease ringing his collar and the pig-head smile like on the Muppet Show when Kermit would make a good joke, like this:
http://images.amazon.com/images/G/01/video/stills/muppets2-large.jpg
…only it’s a pig head.
(ok, they don’t call it “satin” when they’re making sports team coats from it, but you know…like, if he was a girl, he would be wearing a satin roller-rink coat, only he’s a boy, so it’s a football team coat, from the same material)
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Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisAmanda, PLEASE try to find the pictures! I’m dying to see one! I’m sure they would be a hit here. I’m surly not the only one who wants to set eyes on this male craziness.
Comment by Adam |Edit ThisThere’s an Adam Nicolson that plays (or probably played) for the B.C. Lions.
I’ll probably order a jersey one day.
Comment by Adam |Edit ThisI just looked it up. He’s with Saskatchewan now.
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Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisAmanda’s boyfriend’s “boys night out” would be even better if you had your own name on your jersey! Can you get up a group of manly men who both want to cook a suckling pig and wear its head at the neck of your jersey? This could really catch on. You should put it on you-tube! Amanda and I will certainly watch and pass it on to others.
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Comment by Ben |Edit ThisI am young and yet there is a great deal I cannot accomplish.
You were far more confident than I am.
(Your roasts are still the best.)
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisGod, Ben, you are way more confident than I ever was. I just did things I shouldn’t have been able to do but didn’t know any better. Sometimes you just get lucky. I’ve always been pretty lucky.
Comment by pb |Edit ThisIt’s true many cultures fear the pig historically and here are a couple of reasons why (from a devout pig eater);: pigs don’t sweat. Like dogs. So all of their “toxins” stay in the flesh. Also, they are ominvores, which means they eat everything, including their own young, humans (anyone see that on that showtime show, about the old west..I have no memory….), garbage, etc…Clearly, raised well and cooked properly, they aren’t as “dirty” as they once were. But historically, not eating pig and getting circumsized made a lot of sense- the whole less-likely-to-die thing.
Great piece! What a wonderful wife you are/were! Showing appreciation is the kept to it all, isn’t it?
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit Thispb, that’s pretty funny. I spent a long time trying to figure out if “kept” was an idiomatic expression or a cultural one. HA! I’m so glad others have caught the typo virus. I hate being the only one.
The show was DEADWOOD and it was the greatest show ever and died well before its time, in my opinion. The main bad guy, whose name escapes me, gave me nightmares in the first season. Then he got so he was sort of my hero. I LOVED that show! Remember whenever he got upset he would talk to the Indian Head he kept in a box, as though it were his psychiatrist? Great minds wrote that script!
They have done massive studies recently about circumcision in Africa and apparently a person who is not circumcised is much more likely to contract Aids, while one who is has a much better chance to avoid it.
Also there used to be a huge problem with trichinosis and pork, but at least in the US it is not a problem anymore. People are even serving it rare in restaurants, although I was brought up in a different time and can’t do that. Can’t eat rare bird either. Rare duck breast? uh uh. Cook that bird till it’s done. Lamb too. When I was a kid we ate lamb cooked all the way. None of this rare stuff for me. (Although, I don’t know if there is a medical reason for that, or just cultural. Birds being rare I suppose could give you salmonella.) For reasons unclear to me, I have no problem eating raw beef, even though I know that that can make you sick. I may not be all that rational, now that I think it over.
If you can’t get a sucking pig in Miami, next closest stop is Ybor City in Tampa.
Unless you count Havana, that is…
I can’t eat the heads of things - monkey brains, fish eyeballs, not even crawdads. I don’t know what it is - taste or no taste, I can’t be eatin’ no brains and shit (even though I ’spose shit is technically “sweetbreads”.)
Victor is a brave, brave man.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisKimberly, do you eat sushi? They have a dish called “sweet shrimp” where you eat the regular part raw on rice, as usual, and then they deep-fry the whole head part with all its insect legs and I swear to you it is delicious! You just can’t look at the eyes when you eat it.
Also in Japan if you get a course meal, frequently one course is the cooked head of a fish. At first I wasn’t sure, but after I tasted it I ate everything but the bones, (and the lens of the eye, of course.)
I couldn’t eat a monkey anything. They look too much like people. It’d be like cannibalism. I can’t eat crawdad heads either, but Victor does. I love sweetbreads, but I’m afraid of brain because of prions.
I have people out looking for a source for suckling pig for Thanksgiving. I think it’s the wrong time of year for the Cubans, but what do I know?
Je ne eat any kinds of heads pas. Period.
While it’s my strong contention that you could deep-fry a shoe and it would be delicious (and it would) I’m still not eatin’ no shrimp heads.
Ew.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisKimberly,
I challenge you to come visit me and just TRY some interesting food, like shrimp heads. You don’t LOOK wussy.
I’m pretty sure I would eat at least a bite of a deep-fried shoe, if you made it for me.
Did you ever see ancient silent movie with Charlie Chaplin in Alaska? I think it was called “Goldrush.” He’s starving and yet he makes a glorious dinner consisting of the shoelaces from his shoes, which he eats like spaghetti. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen it, but I promise you would love it. (You don’t even have to eat anything.)
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I’m usually not squeamish when it comes to food. (The size of my ass should prove that.) I’ve eaten my fair share of weird stuff all around the world. I even eat scads and scads of vegemite with relish (read: delight - not the pickle kind… but now that I think about it, maybe a little relish with vegemite on toast sounds pretty delicious.)
But I just can’t wrap my head around eating brains. The texture I think would be the same as turtle. Which I DID try, and couldn’t even taste for the vile squishy texture.
Probably the only way it’ll happen is if someone tells me it’s a fried shoe and then only afterwards tells me it’s a brain. But if someone offers me a fried shoe now that I’ve siad this, I’ll be very very suspicious.
(and yes - Chaplin is a GENIUS.)
Oh, and if you think I’m not going to visit you and paint a big penis on the outside of your house when you’re not looking the next time I’m visiting my best friend in Sunrise, you’ve got another thing coming. 
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisKimberly,
You ate TURTLE! That’s revolting!
You are cordially invited to paint a giant penis on my house any time. If the City of Miami Beach starts to charge us a penalty of $500 a day for it, which they did when we put two million, (approximately,) tons of gorgeous bolder-like rocks around the edge of our swale, well, we’ll have to photograph it carefully and then paint it over, on account of we just don’t have $500 a day to pay in penalties to the close-minded people in charge of the rules in Miami Beach.
However, we do have a wall, so it is possible that they will never find out! Seriously.
You should visit. It’s nice in Miami Beach. Bring your friend from Sunrise.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisKimberly,
I’ve been thinking about it and I’m pretty sure that shrimp don’t have brains. So. No worries!
Comment by Ursula |Edit ThisYou were so brave at your tender age to undertake this incredible adventure to bring a suckling pig into your home and oven. How did you even know how to proceed. It sounds like this was one of Victor’s more memorable birthdays which he unfortunately missed, I bet his friends did not. Your kids seem just fine, did they like the “pig”. Your presentation of the dish was very professional and appetizing. If you venture to do this again, I hope that we will be invited and I am looking forward to it.
Great narrative.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisUrsula, you don’t understand, I was too young and ignorant to know what was even difficult to do. I know that all Victor’s friends enjoyed it, because, as I said, only the head was left. As far as the kids were concerned, Lonny wasn’t eating anything yet and I just can’t remember if Sara partook of the head. (I don’t believe I have ever written “partook” before. It certainly looks funny!)
What are you doing for Thanksgiving?
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisI mean Lonny wasn’t eating anything SOLID yet. He wasn’t skinny because he wasn’t eating, just because he was only 8 weeks old and really long.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisThanks, George. Irene also looked really great in 1973, but oh well. Time and all.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisGeorge you are right on the money! When they are small everything that happens around them is what is normal. If things are different at another house, they think that’s what’s funny. If kids stayed little, it’d be like having dogs instead of children. In some ways, that’s good, and in some ways, that’s bad.
OH MAMA! I love this story and it explains the pictures I’ve seen before! I want to make a surprise dog in my oven…
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisChristine, you can absolutely do it. Just don’t try to surprise anyone! Trust me on this.
(And make sure the butcher knows how big your oven is!)
Comment by Sara Zion |Edit ThisHi.
I don’t remember the icebox dog, though I do remember the ridiculous story well. It’s a well-established part of the family lore, thanks to your great storytelling.
Comment by Sara Zion |Edit ThisHA! I thought Sara remembered being there and saying that, but , there you go, she only remembers the story about it. Well. I thought it might be her first memory. Now I’ll have to ask her what that is.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit Thisoops. That was me. always forget when I’m not home to change the name back. sorry.
Comment by reno the pig |Edit Thisha. poor victor (by the way, great pic of the dr. i think i can see a little lenore in there…). gin? he was too young for gin. that was the problem. he should have went for whiskey. whiskey would have kept him up all night. hell, he probably would have danced w/ the pig. could you imagine the pics? lordy.
you’re thought, irene. i would have never ordered a pig for my wife. never would i have cut the bastard in half and then watch her pals devour it. you have guts. thanks for the great storytelling.
napigzi,
reno romero
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisNapigzi, huh? You Bet!
My three boys look exactly like Victor, and my two girls look exactly like his mother. If I weren’t there at the time, I would think they were changelings. His mother hated me, but she WAS beautiful and smart, so I guess things worked out in the end. Besides, she was a survivor, and the fact that I was a shiksa was unbearable to her. I think if she had lived we would have come to really like each other. We just didn’t have enough time to heal her fear that I would ruin his life and children.
I blindsided Victor with the surprise. That’s why he acted so out of character with the gin. I don’t even know why we HAD gin in the house. All we drank, and very rarely, was jug wine. You can see it on the table in the picture of me and the piglet. Also on the wall is a picture of little Sara and baby Lonny. It’s a really old picture, so it’s all yellowed, and I don’t have the original slide, I don’t think.
Tomorrow is the 40th anniversary of the day Victor and I fell in love. We’ve been together for 40 years tomorrow! I can’t imagine where the time went. It seems like it just began.
A little advise for all of you. Take pictures. Lots of pictures. Treasure the ones you love and hold them close. Time is an evil, evil thing.
Whoa, sorry. Comedy blog. I remember.
I have a joke:
Why does a chicken coop have two doors?
Because if it had four it would be a sedan.
There, back to comedy blog.
Remember, Reno, my sweet, I was only 25 at the time. When you are young you think anything is possible. Nothing ever stopped me. I’m not all that different now, I don’t think, except that I have this impending death thing hanging over my head that I can’t seem to outrun.
Comment by reno the pig |Edit Thisyou know, irene: i have an outstanding mom. she’s the best. but if i didn’t have her i’d want you to guide my way. your stories are great. the dr. is great. wow, 40 years! congratulations. that’s beautiful.
say, how about a thoughtful, mawkish, write on the 40 yrs w/ the doc. you know, for all of us green relationships…
(you know i just saw a pal that has been married two years. i told the dude: “bro, i have jeans older than your marriage. i have a guitar that i’ve been married to for eleven. call me back in five years.”)
he screwed up his face.
like most folk do when they encounter me.
oh, well.
you’re the best. keep writing.
porkless,
reno romero
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisThanks, Reno, you’re the best!
I will think it over. I’m quite sure that it would be difficult to avoid the mawkish tilt and I’d rather do that, if I could. I’ll think it over. I can’t write until I’m home again anyway.
You should call your mother right now and tell her how super amazing she is. (And you should write her a letter with a wonderful memory that you have of life when you were little. It’s absolutely amazing how little the memory of mothers coincides with the memories of her children. You will not regret doing this. I promise from my heart.)
Porkless napigzi indeed!
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Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisI meant to say I’d rather NOT be mawkish. One day I will learn to proof-read!
Comment by Adam |Edit ThisWas that a wedding anniversary or something else? I’m unclear.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit ThisNo Adam, We’re married only 38 years last July 18th, but we began our life together Oct 11, 1968. That makes 40 years together. Victor only counts the married years, but I do not.
Thus is the first difference between men and women.
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Comment by Adam |Edit ThisOh, there are generally piles of differences accruing for twenty or thirty years before that one comes up.
Your anniversary is my brother’s birthday.
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore Zion's Mom) |Edit ThisAdam, you have a VERY lucky brother. 18 is the day Victor was born and it is the day we married, because 18 is a VERY lucky number for jews. it is pronounced in a way that iI cannot imagine how to spell, yet I will try: Chai. but say it as though you are clearing your throat at the beginning. VERY lucky brother, yours!
Comment by ksw |Edit ThisI think this explains why the two children mentioned do not have pets( would be hard to explain grandma just cooked “Spot”! I’m having a hard time picturing Victor not able to drink( and with so much hair , too!) speaking of which you looked like such the love/peace baby… Do you remember the dinner party , B.C. of course, when Ken drowned his tie in your pumpkin soup, and asked for cutting utensil and cut the tie off at the soup mark? You are a marvelous cook.. but will still practice my dodging for the wine throw at turkey day… waddle tastes like chicken
Comment by Irene Zion (Lenore's Mom) |Edit Thisksw, I WAS a love/peace baby. It was the time. What I can’t get over is how skinny I was 8 weeks after delivering a huge gangly baby.
Sara had a dog, a beagle, Maggie, forever. Until she was no more. And Lonny had a cat, Sturm, the brother of Drang, of course, forever too. Until he was no more. The until the “was no more” part everything was fine, but a lot of folks can’t bear to endure that part again.
I remember very well that party! It was a totally vegetarian dinner and I invited Ken who, it turned out, EATS NO VEGETABLES. He was so polite and amazing that I never even knew until afterwards that that was the case. He did a lot or moving things around on his plate and sqooshing things to the side. That may be why the wine went to his head that evening and he sat down tie first into the cream of pumpkin soup. When he asked for and received the scissors, I had no idea he would cut off his tie at soup level. He wore that truncated tie all night and was most probably starving when he went home. Always the gentleman and truly ALWAYS funny. I love Ken. Always have. Always will.
You actually ATE wattle? I am SO impressed. It just tastes like the meat? That is VERY disappointing. I was expecting something much stranger. I am going to quiz you further on this at another time!
Comment by donald |Edit Thissounds like he missed a great party….i mean i wouldnt pass out if i had the chance to eat severed dog halves for my birthday.
Comment by Alex D |Edit Thishey irene really funny I know you would never cook a dog never. The picture of you and victor were really cute and good job on having 2 kids cooking a pig and having a party your my hero see you later
Comment by Tim |Edit ThisI wish I could’ve been at that party, passed out host notwithstanding.
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