For the love of all things beautiful, impose
Plus a recipe for cake aux olives, an egg and olive loaf
Happy Friday, beautiful souls.
I love manners. It sounds like a silly thing to say but I love the little niceties that make life beautiful and distinguished, like getting gifts for people on their birthday (or any day) or saying good morning when you walk into a room in the morning, etc. But one thing that I want to urge you all is to not let thinking you are being polite get in the way of visiting others or keeping up with your friends and relatives.
How many times have you heard or yourself said, “I don’t want to impose.” And then maybe later down the line you’ll say to yourself, “I wish I would have checked in more or visited more frequently,” when it is too late. (Sorry, I know this sounds morbid but this is a really important point.)
Last week—last Friday to be exact—I lost a dear friend. Reinhard would have turned 90 this November but he left this earth at 89. And what a full 89 years he lived. He was at astrophysicist with the Jet Propulsion Lab in Southern California, putting several rockets in space for NASA. His professional accomplishments were great but he was also a wonderful man in his personal life. He married his wife, who survives him, at the age of 24 (she was 22) and they traveled the world together, eating their way through Italy, Japan, among other places.
I met Reinhard when I had a food column for the now defunct Cedar Street Times in Pacific Grove. I had published a column with a recipe for cake aux olives (you will find the recipe below) and Reinhard had written me to criticize my representation of the ham. If I recall correctly I had listed the measurement of diced ham in cups and he insisted it should be a weighted measurement. Thrilled to have feedback on my column, and curious by this man, I asked if he’d like to meet for coffee. He agreed to meet me, bringing along his sweet wife Margaret, at Juice n Java in downtown Pacific Grove. When I arrived, the two were seated side by side at a table and our coffee meeting felt like an interview. I was bubbly and enthusiastic to make new friends and he was leery of me. By the end of coffee he had invited me over for dinner and as it turns out he was a gourmet home cook. I don’t recall what we ate for dinner that night but I do remember the wine was always flowing freely at their house. Over the years I had several dinners with them, either at their house or at Bistro Moulin in Monterey (which is now under new ownership).
Reinhard was a very opinionated man and not shy to ask questions about my personal life. He would regularly ask me if I had found a boyfriend and laugh in his distinguished British way when I would tell him that I hadn’t quite yet found anyone.
Reinhard and Margaret split their time between Glendale and Pacific Grove but got stuck in Pacific Grove during the pandemic. During that time, I emailed him to check on him and Margaret. The world was locked down and my life had come to a screeching, silent halt. Reinhard was grateful to hear from me and asked if I knew anyone who would do some odd jobs around his house, they were getting old and needed some help, he explained. I poked around but nobody was looking for odd jobs so I asked what he needed and if I was able I’d be happy to do it without pay.
What he needed was someone to take his garbage and recycle bins out on Monday evening and bring them back in Tuesday morning. That was it. So I made it a part of my routine—I wasn’t going anywhere—and thought of it as exercise, I would bike from my house in Monterey, along the recreation trail to their house in Pacific Grove, take out the bins and maybe drop off some baked goods, and bike home. Returning the following morning to bring them in.
Reinhard was thrilled to learn that I was dating someone when Joe and I met and invited the two of us to Bistro Moulin. We had a really amazing dinner together, they shared stories of their 60+ years married and were excited to watch us embark on our journey.
Now I could share stories about Reinhard for days but the message I’m trying to get across is, call and visit your friends. When I went to say goodbye to him last week (his caretaker let me know he was near the end), one of his dear family friends (and the executor to his will) was asking me several questions and learning things about him from me. She had said she hadn’t wanted to bother him over the years—and he had told me the same thing about her, “she has a teenage daughter,” or “she’s going through a divorce,”—that there were things the two of them had missed out not knowing about one another. So life gets busy, we all have things—and loads of them—on are plate but let’s make time to see friends, to have a phone call, to catch up, to share stories, a meal, a glass of wine (or three). Cheers to Reinhard and checking in with friends, RIP dear soul.
An update on the strawberry finches! Who knew four little birds could be so loud. When their mom comes to feed them they tweet so loud and all at once it’s so intense and so lovely. I tried to get some photos of them but they seemed scared of me and they were protected under the strawberry leaves that I didn’t want to risk startling them so I got poorly lit photos. Their heads are getting bigger and their fuzz is turning into feathers.
Cake aux olives - French olive loaf
This recipe is from a dear French friend, Franck, whose zest for life is contagious and admirable. It’s easy and delicious and is the perfect thing to eat for breakfast before work or school.
1 1/2 cups white wine, separated, one for the bread (8 oz), half for you (4 oz), I used Reinhard’s favorite Sauvignon Blanc
1 cup (4 oz.) diced ham, cooked
1 cup (4 oz.) pitted green olives
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 cup olive oil
4 eggs
1 tbsp Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon salt
1.5 cups flour
2 cups (4 oz.) grated gruyere
Butter to grease the pan
Heat oven to 350˚F. Pour yourself a glass of wine in your favorite glass.
Cut the ham into small squares, set aside. Drain the olives and rinse them. Cut them in half crosswise (meaning cut at the fattest part of the olive). Eat an olive or two, they pair greatly with your wine. Set aside.
Butter a 9” x 5” baking loaf pan and set aside.
In a medium bowl, combine the flour and baking powder. Add the other cup of wine. Do it a little at a time mixing constantly so that the flour doesn’t get clumpy. Then add the olive oil in a few additions and mix really well. The smell might encourage you to get yourself a nice piece of bread to dip in your own olive oil, go ahead, enjoy. Cooking is a culinary experience best enjoyed with all the senses.
Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Next add the mustard and stir in thoroughly. Sprinkle in the salt and mix it in well.
Add the ham, olives, and grated gruyere; mix well.
Pour the mix into the prepared loaf pan and bake for 60-65 minutes. You’ll know it’s done when the top is slightly golden and the loaf has risen. It may bubble up on the edges with oil and that’s OK. While it’s baking grab your wine, any remaining ham and cheese, get cozy on the couch, and relax. You can rest in anticipation of a delightful treat in the oven.
I actually like to eat this dish when it is cooled. And it’s great to make on the weekend to take along for breakfast at work. Or to pack in a picnic. You see what I’m saying.
Bon appétit! Here’s to sweet Reinhard, RIP.
Love this! <3