HAPPY BIRTHDAY MR BLONK

Happy Birthday “Mr. Blonk.”
“Mr. Blonk” was one of the nick names I had for my father,
I think it sprung out of a TV show, but
I can’t quite remember; My father
was born on the 28 December 1926, had he lived
he would have been 85 this year;
My father was creative, funny, a gentleman and the
ultimate foodie; he turned his appreciation for good food into an art form, he
had learnt internalized & forgotten what others struggled to learn about
food and wine; to my benefit he was insistent that from the earliest age that I
knew what wine would go with what food, within which correct shape glass and at
what temperature,
I also was schooled in which desert followed what kind
of food, how to choose, cook carve and serve what cut of meat. how to select
vegetables, seasoning and spices, the
meanings of sauté, al dente, alfresco dining the difference between roast and
braise all before the age of ten!
While other children’s “daddy time “ was a trip to the
zoo, or the swimming pool, mine was spent in exclusive delicatessens,
chocolatiers , green grocers or beverage importers sampling freshly imported cheese, handmade
chocolates , softly squeezing avocados( a luxury in the austerity of post war 1950’s Britain) , or
sniffing the aroma of freshly ground
coffee while selecting the prefect pastry to accompany it. Bed time stories were
not full of witches and princesses but chapters from Auguste Escoffier much
loved and well thumbed” Le Guide Culinaire” or “Mrs. Beaton’s Guide To Household
Management”.
Born into a comfortable middle class assimilated Jewish
family, to a highly educated, cultured and refined mother my father developed
his tastes for all things culinary at an early age; one could say he wasn’t
born with a silver spoon in his mouth but rather a pastry fork in each hand.
Mr. Blonk had some very strong gastronomic all abiding
rules,
·
He never ate touched
or went near anything that came out of water, being violently allergic to fish
·
Nothing came out of
a packet, therefore Sherry trifle would be made with a homemade cake base, and
fresh fruit, vanilla infused proper custard, a rich ruby sherry, and double
whipped jersey cream.
·
He endeavored to eat
local fresh produce in season a trend that is now very much in vogue!
·
He believed in buying
the freshest and finest ingredients he
could afford.
·
He believed that food is
for sharing, with family and friends the people next door, and all around the
community.

Yet for all his love of international haute cuisine;
there was nothing my father loved better than a well-produced traditional home
cooked meal.
One of my father’s all-time favorites was Klops ( Polish meat loaf )
served with an onion or mushroom gravy roast potatoes and steamed al dente vegetables.
This Friday night in my father’s honor I am making the
following meal, with a modernized and slightly healthy slant. However as m y
Fathers meals were loaded with butter cream white sugar, over the years I have
introduced a healthier slant, also I now change ingredients in accordance with Kashrut
Egg& Onion, Chopped Liver, with home - made sweet
pickle .cucumbers
Polish Klops,
with Mr. Blonks mushroom sauce,
Honey ginger roasted Jerusalem Artichokes
Minted Baby new
potatoes
Steamed Zuchini
& carrots al dents
Spinach and Avocado & Pecan salad
Followed by hot gluten free double chocolate and banana sponge
cake with vanilla custard ( parave)
After Eights, Whiskey and De caffeinated Earl Grey
infused with lavender
A meal my father would adore!
Mr. Blonk, traveled all over the UK working as an
antique jeweler, he was an expert in Victorian jewelry, in the days before cell phones he would call me every
night from his hotel and always tell me what was on the menu. , At the weekends
he might slowly cook a “stifado” or Roast a perfect joint of beef but more
often or not he would wait for me to return from working a week in the city, we
would eat one meal out and shop and he would rest while I produced a meal for a
very exacting gourmet, then at a perfectly laid table, he would tell me all
about his week and vise a versa.
His untimely death at the age of 56, one year before his
grandsons birth, was extremely sudden, but not unexpected, I am sure he is
watching over me and my kitchen:, moreover has passed down his creativity and
love of good food to the much more health conscious innovative grandson he never met but would
have been oh so proud of.
So Happy Birthday “Mr. Blonk”, rest assured your legacy
lives on.

Rachelle Silver
22.December 2011




Polish Klops.
1 kilo good ground beef
1 cup fresh parsley
1 carrot grated
3 cloves garlic crushed
1 onion grated
1 zucchini grated
1 cup ground or processed corn flakes, or you can use whole
wheat matzo meal
4 eggs, 2 hard boiled and shelled 2 beaten
Crushed black pepper
Sea salt.
Put the oven on to 180 c gas mark 4 350 F to warm
Hard boil 2 eggs for
10 minutes put into cold water once cooked shell
and put a side.
Place all the ingredients apart from the hard boiled eggs in a
large mixing bowl and mix well.
Wet your hands with cold water, and shape the meat mixture
in to a large oval shape a bit like an American football, placing the hard
boiled eggs in the middle ensuring they are well covered.
Place in a large oven proof dish, cover with silver foil,
roast for 75-80minutes removing the foil for the last 30 minutes to allow the
outside to form a crust.
Serve sliced so the slice of meat loaf shows the egg, with
mushroom sauce. Jacket or roast potatoes, roast parsnips, steamed vegetables
pureed artichokes.
Mr. Blonks Mushroom Sauce
1lb button mushrooms checked washed sliced
1 large onion diced finely
4 cloves garlic crushed
½ desert spoon extra virgin olive oil
1 desert spoon oat meal
Black pepper
Sea salt.
I cup chopped parsley
½ glass white wine or light dry sherry
I tea spoon organic gluten free vegan soup powder. (Optional)
Juice of half a lemon
½ cup water
½ cup rice soya or oat milk


Heat the oil add the onions and garlic and cool till
transparent, add the mushrooms and cook off for 3-4 minutes, add the wine, soup
powder parsley lemon juice salt and pepper, cook off the mushrooms produce a
lot of natural liquid, add the seasoning and the oat meal and stir, add water
and cook for 15 minutes on a low light then add soya milk and simmer for 5
minutes, it should be a consistency of gravy. Serve hot with the Klops.

Make a photo album

BATH TIME SHARED

Bath time a grand mothers joy, today with advances in technology the 12209 kilometers or 7587 miles between my grandson & I can be “reduced” by the daily uploading of video’s of his antics and development.

For me these videos keep my updated, and I scan my inbox religiously to check for the latest installment in my “Mr. Yummy’s” life. These delightful daily doses not only keep me up-to-date with his development and talents, they warm my heart as his giggles and smiles fill my screen.

I am certainly in danger of becoming an Eitan bore to my friends, as I rattle on about how he eats a banana, boogies to music, plays with his shape sorter; but I make no apologies as that is normal behavior for any grandmother, I know mine did it and I wasn’t separated from her by an ocean but by a couple of streets!

Nowadays, more and more families are separated, living on the opposite side of the world from your family is no longer considered to be out of the ordinary, in fact the reverse is happening. The number of my friends that have their grandchildren living within the same town, city or country is limited, as our children spread their wings across the world.

Who loses out I wonder? not the totally the grandparents as we adjust to the situation, placate an aching heart with photo’s ,video’s and Skype, but I do wonder what this generation of virtual grandchildren will feel ,without the ability to run into those special grandparent arms, to pop round after school for a special treat, to have that day out at the beach or shopping or at the library with the grandparents , to have the surprise of grandma picking them up from school and whisking them off for an illicit ice-cream.

For this generation of international grandchildren a visit to grandparents has to be planned, there is no room for spontaneity when the flight alone takes over ten hours.

For this generation, videos, photo’s and Skype take over the majority of the time from personal contact.

For this generation knowing the delights of the smells from their grandma’s kitchen, or the hiding places within their grandparent’s house and garden is replaced by a wave into a webcam, an email, and a faded picture.

Please don’t get me wrong I love the daily updates,

I am so thankful that I have a healthy happy and of course clever (grandma’s pride) little man who part of me living in this world, and I take pleasure in his growth and development daily.

It is just so long since I have held this little man in my arms and told him how unique he is, It is so long since I have taken care of him, it is so long since I have felt like a real not virtual Safta ,that sometimes I do worry, that my grandson who sees less of me than I do of him will not know who I am, and all the special love I have to offer him.

We are planning a trip, maybe in six months when I am stronger , when I will visit my munchkin , it wont be a sight seeing trip, will be one of fantastic mundane every day things where I will share time at the park, or in the play ground, walking the dog, story time , playing, shopping , cooking and eating together. We will for a short time build memories and I will be a 100% real live interactive grandmother to this precious little boy. I hope my visit will show my grandson how special he is to me , make it easier for him to know me.

But until then excuse me, I have another video to watch. and gloat over and enjoy so I can share the delightful "Mr Yummy's "Bath time!

Something Special.

We often think that life is made up of earth shattering events, people become thrill seekers, undertake extreme sports, set themselves almost unattainable targets ,as they rush from continent to continent, place to place exploring reaching out touching trying and tasting experimenting all life has to offer .

Sometimes in the rush to find yet another other stimuli one forgets to stop and take time out for the little things, a smile, a word, a flower, a kindness makes all the difference.

Last week a friend called me and said she was going to Efrat shopping, not to seek the bright lights, but two ladies of a certain age went off to do our household chores.

Nothing exceptional just routine, yet a visit to the health food shop and supermarket punctuated with a visit to the Post office certainly warranted putting on my mascara and changing out of crocks.

It was a crisp winter morning with the sun shining through; it was a morning where we didn’t rush, we took our time over breakfast in the small coffee shop in the center of Efrat ,along with six or eight other bescarfed women ,who were also briefly escaping work and domesticity with a mug of steaming coffee and an egg salad bagel !

We chatted, mooched round the book shop .After that , I, at long last purchased a “magav” ( an Israeli mop to clean the floor with) something that I needed ,but kept failing to remember .It was a little thing but I was so excited by not only remembering, but having the wherewithal to bring my purchase home this little act was almost the climax of our trip.

Our outing possibly took less than two hours, yet this little trip with a friend sharing mundane tasks some quiet time, some light hearted banter and smiles changed a routine day into something special.