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| My sister and I love to go to restaurants |
The two biggest sellers in any bookstore are the cookbooks and the diet books. The cookbooks tell you how to prepare the food, and the diet books tell you how not to eat any of it. Andy Rooney
I just finished reading Yes, Chef by Marcus Samuelsson and periodically throughout the book I was in tears. I kept saying "why am I tearing up" to myself. Many things about the book resonated and were especially meaningful to me.
Marcus Samuelsson was born in Ethiopia, a country where there is enormous deprivation and illness. He, his mother and his sister contracted TB and his mother carried him, and held his sister's hand for 75 miles to seek help for them in the hospital in Addis Ababa. Ultimately his mother died and then, improbably and fortuitously, he and his sister were adopted by a Swedish family. He grew up in the very white Sweden with a loving parents and again, most fortuitously, a kind and dear grandmother who taught him to cook. Part of the magic was he was intensely interesting in cooking or the story would have ended right there. But he was ambitions and driven to be a success to impress his very loved father and to honor his grandmother.
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| Mom was hostess and helped run our family restaurant |
About a century ago [1904] in Chicago, our great grandmother [Mary Nelson Ricketts from Sweden] was widowed when our great grandfather died of TB. Strapped for cash with four sons to raise she did the only thing she knew how to do and opened a restaurant. Mary called it 'Ricketts restaurant'-- how clever. The family lived above the restaurant and it became famous, for the "home of the strawberry waffle". Amazingly, Mary Ricketts did well enough with her hard work, determination and good food that she was able to start each of her sons in a restaurant of their own in the 1920's. One on Oak St., one on Rush St., one near Michigan Ave. and our grandfather John Ricketts' restaurant at 2727 N. Clark St.
In the 40's and 50's my Grandfather John advertised our Ricketts as 'Chicago's most popular restaurant'. Not sure if that's the God's own truth but it was a big fabulous place, huge, luxurious and for a long time wildly popular. In another inspired touch, since the restaurant was only two blocks from Wrigley field, they painted a sign on a rooftop that you could see all over the field that said, "Hit this sign and win $500!--- Ricketts Restaurant". In fact, no one could have possibly hit the sign, it was too far away, though it was a good optical illusion, it looked possible. In the 50 years or so that the sign proclaimed the reward, it was never collected.
Sadly my Grandfather died youngish [64 or so] of a heart attack, my father and his brother took over the restaurant in 1958. It was not all roses and sweetness, my uncle was a very troubled and difficult man, so much so that my father had a series of panic attacks which led to him eventually leaving the N. Clark St. in 1962 for a restaurant of his own in Wheeling, Il. naming it, cleverly enough 'Ricketts Restaurant'. Good thing he did move on, as the neighborhood vastly declined and his brother, John Jr. went out of business in the early sixties.
Starting his own restaurant was a gamble and an adventure. It was not unusual for my father to work fourteen hour days. Unfortunately, he continued to have panic attacks. Bottom line: restaurants are chronically tough businesses and he had six children to support. But with his hard work, determination, good food and charming personality he made a success of the business and the panic attacks eased.
Marcus Samuelsson and I are practically twins. He's Swedish by adoption, me by heritage, his mother died of TB, as did my great grandfather, he was the chef for the Obamas at their inaugural ball in 2008, I voted for and love the Obamas. He likes to cook and loves to eat and so do I. See, twins! OK, he is a world famous chef, had to struggle and work wonky hours to be successful, but I appreciate that!
I do love to cook but watching my father work the hours that he did and knowing what chefs go through to be successful never appealed to me as a career choice. Instead I 'cook' with the ingredients that the clients bring into my office. Sometimes they need more ingredients and I suggest something toothsome. Sometimes I stir the pot, I season my words heavily with just the right amount of spice to add flavor and interest to their lives. Sometimes I have to allow time for the baking process which sometime takes longer than you'd think. Ah, the end product, in truth, is something that the client and I craft together with love. All the best chefs of this world love what they're doing and so do I. That is my definition of success. Ta da.
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| A la familia |
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