This post comes courtesy of Karen Schwarz, the wife of my sister- in-law’s 1^st cousin… I know, take a deep breath. Now exhale and read a little story that I found lovely and touching. I hope you will find it so as well.

Romancing the Brisket by Karen Schwarz

This Valentine’s Day I’m making a brisket dinner for my family.  The recipe I use is from an old family friend, Ruth Silverman, of Gloversville, NY.  I know brisket doesn’t sound like Valentine’s Day fare, but after reading up a little on food history and asking Ruth a few questions, I learned that her recipe, which traveled for 96 years and logged over 5,000 miles, is actually a very romantic story.   Here’s what I mean.

Get your world map out and put your finger on Hungary. 

That’s where Ruth’s brisket got its start, in the family of her mother, Helen Schwartz. Helen was born into modest circumstances in 1898, when for families like hers, beef was a luxury.  In fact, it was only when an old dairy cow met with the butcher, that they might get a brisket. The brisket is a big tough plank of muscle that covers the breast bone and has to be cooked for hours to make it tender. Helen’s family probably added to their pot of hot water the standard Eastern European seasonings -- onions, garlic and paprika.

Now go back to the map and bring your finger from Hungary, across Europe and the Atlantic to North America, and locate Gloversville, New York, which is just northwest of Albany.

In 1914, when the 16 yr old Helen made that journey, Gloversville was the world capital of glove manufacturing. 

There she fell in love with Harry Neivert, from Poland.  They married and had 3 daughters:  Beatrice, Molly, and Ruth.  Helen no longer had to wait to get a brisket, and she added ingredients that were not available in Hungary: brown sugar, garlic powder and canned tomato sauce and beef broth.  

Now we get real romantic. …. When Ruth turned 21, she defied her parents and traveled to Gulfport, Mississippi --- to elope.  It was 1944, and her fiancé, Air Force co-pilot Barrett Silverman, left for Europe days after they were married. Ruth waited and worked in a battery factory.   When World War II ended, Barrett came home and they started a family.  Ruth made brisket, and added to her Mom’s recipe ---the 1940s food sensation:   onion soup mix!

I met Ruth in 1987 when I was dating her friend’s nephew. We talked about food and when I married the nephew, she gave me the brisket recipe. I have since added my own touches:  a cup of red wine and a very romantic… blender.   Bear with me here.  After the meat is cooked, I put the pot of vegetables, broth, tomato sauce and wine in my garage for several hours.  The fat rises and forms a waxy orange seal that I lift right off with a spatula. Underneath is a dark gelatinous sludge, which will be transformed into the world’s finest gravy by the aforesaid blender. It’s an Osterizer Supreme and my parents got it as a wedding gift, 58 year ago.

Ruth’s brisket fuels my family’s furnace.  My 15 year old son, Jack, puts away 8 slices at dinner.  It’s bitter cold at 7:30 the next morning, when I drop him off at school for jazz band practice. But he is ready to go. As I pull away, I picture Jack tuning up his guitar.  His signature song is All of Me, which was an immediate hit when it came out in 1931. I imagine Helen dancing to it in her kitchen in Gloversville with her three little girls. If that’s not romantic, I don’t what is.

Written by Gerald Marks and Seymour Simons, All of Me has been recorded by over 500 artists including all the usual suspects but performed memorably on an episode of Sanford and Son by Redd Foxx with Scatman Crothers accompanying him on guitar. In 1999, Woody Allen added it to the score of his wonderful homage to 30's jazz, Sweet and Lowdown, starring Sean Penn as the mythical Emmett Ray. Arranged by longtime Allen musical partner, Dick Hyman, this brisk version features Howard Alden on guitar, and is sung by Carol Woods. It's played so irrepressably that one can almost forget how mournful the lyric is. Note first the marvellous interplay between Alden and Ken Peplowski on clarinet. Then note the wonderful break where they downshift gears into Peanut Vendor, a popular Cuban rumba also from 1931. Crisp and bright, bursting with juicy red fruit, It would work wonderfully at any Sunday barbeque or even better, as the upbeat antidote on the treacly sweet Valentine's Day mix.

I caught Woody Allen’s latest film Vicky Cristina Barcelona and I’m pleased to announce he’s in top form again; brilliantly funny and insightful, stunning locales - Well, I never been to Spain - (but I sure want to go after seeing this), top production values and the acting is sharp especially Javier Bardem and Penelope Cruz.

What I found most fascinating, however, was the emotional response I had when the credits began to roll. Who could image simple white type over a black background (the font treatment is EF Windsor Light Condensed and there is a great blog post about it here) could inspire such warm feelings. I felt in the company of an old friend, our relationship forged by an emotional connection that stretched back some 30+ years. That familiar credit sequence was a personal guarantee of what was to unfold over the ensuing 90 minutes. And isn’t that essentially what a great brand does. Establishes a unique promise, creates an emotional connection with the consumer, and then keeps its word and delivers on all aspects of that promise. GM are you listening?

I was so engaged that I felt compelled to go watch a number of his older films; Hannah and Her Sisters, Crimes & Misdemeanors and Annie Hall.

In all of them his musical choices are sensational, acting as a Greek chorus, commenting on and foretelling plot developments. Here are the opening credit songs from both Vicky Cristina and the aforementioned Hannah and Her Sisters.

This jaunty opening number titled Barcelona not only introduces the two main characters of Vicky and Cristina, it also promises intrigue, sensuality, a bit of danger, and the foreign locale of the city itself. 

Listen carefully and you'll even hear a Theremin near the end of the track, which indicates a certain level of eccentricity will be added to the film's frothy mix. Earthy and vibrant, I’d add it and the rest of the soundtrack to the set list at your next Wine Tasting, which would also benefit greatly from the purchase of a few bottles of Tres Picos, a wonderful Garnacha.

Recorded in 1941, Harry James’ version of You Made Me Love You opens Hannah and Her Sisters. Note the way it instantly sets a romantic and nostalgic mood.  For me it captures the war years. While James’ trumpet finds a strand of sweetness, there’s still something very sad and gray about this song.

Perhaps it’s the lyric, “You made me love you. I didn’t want to do it, I didn’t want to do it.” Hmmm, maybe it’s me but that line leaves something less than a ringing, romantic endorsement to my ears. In any case, this one is ripe for cocktails or a birthday/anniversary mix for a family member over 75.

Finally, here’s a song that celebrates the finding of a few cherished friends who will walk side by side with us on this long, wacky road trip. From Simon and Garfunkel’s brilliant 1968 release Bookends, Old Friends caresses the listener with gentle, carmelized colors. Bittersweet strings counterpoint Paul and Art’s gorgeous harmonies, and the lyrics evoke memories of future day’s past from the perspective of a young man.  “How terribly strange to be seventy.”  Folks, I’m here to tell you this is good stuff. Call your oldest and dearest friends and let 'em know how you feel because it's getting late.