Raeann made a fateful decision one day while traveling through the Badlands. As a result, she has “unfinished business” with none other than Amy Grant. Luckily, for us, she has a story about it and walked away from last night’s Slam as the Audience Favorite.




Raeann’s video is below. (Keep a lookout for host Jen Childs’ shocked face when Raeann knocks Public Enemy.) And our overall Slam winner, Ben Drinen, is featured on Philebrity!


Our next Slam is THIS Saturday at the Free Library Festival. It’s the Second Annual Inter-City StorySlam: Philly vs. DC. This FREE event is an awesome chance to support our town’s storyspinning masters as they face off against some chumps from the Beltway.

Before this weekend’s Edible World: Sunday Supper and Family Lore, meet our guest author, Suzan Colón!


Over the last few years we have all been so concerned with getting through this recession that it has been difficult to reflect on the many ways it has affected our lives. My home state of Michigan has seen unemployment more then double over the last two years. Though reading this grim statistic could lead me to think otherwise, not all of the recent changes have been negative. The Bureau of Labor Statistics has reported a rise in the volunteer rate among people with full time employment, and community colleges surveyed by the American Association of Community Colleges reported a rise in enrollment last year from 2% to 27%.


Many people are dealing with their job loss by reinventing themselves professionally. They face the hard times head on by “putting up soup”, the motto of author Suzan Colón’s charismatic grandmother. I recently spoke to Ms. Colón about her book Cherries in Winter: My Family’s Recipe for Hope in Hard Times and about the changes she has made since being laid off from her dream job at a magazine in 2008. Prior to our conversation, I did not exactly lack for hope that the stories I had heard of personal reinvention were true, but it was inspiring to speak with someone who so clearly has embraced the changes in her life brought about by the recession.


Suzan told me that there are two types of challenges, those you take on by choice and those plopped in your lap, which you then have no choice but to take on. Suzan stated that she knew getting laid off was a possibility, and this knowledge gave her a chance to plan for such an outcome. She said that accepting her position was a large part of moving forward, and that it gave her the resilience to deal with the challenges and explore opportunities presented by her new situation.


Our conversation led me to consider how in my own life I am often been dragged towards change, usually by forces beyond my control, kicking and screaming. I seem to willfully forget each time the surprising discoveries I make when walking into a foreign situation. I asked Suzan if she was able to find unexpected pleasures in her life resulting from her job loss and she unhesitatingly replied, yes, cooking. Suzan’s family tree is overflowing with chefs, but she never found the time to learn how to cook. An overbooked schedule led Suzan, like many of us, to resort to eating out for most of her meals.


Shortly after being laid off, Suzan, at her mother’s urging, rediscovered her nana’s recipe folder, tucked away in a cardboard box in the basement. The next few months were spent testing these family recipes on her husband, who she sympathetically claimed was at her mercy, and then documenting the experience. Suzan immersed herself within this new life and emerged after a few months with a wonderful book, Cherries in Winter, and a much better chef. She claims that the culinary breakthrough finally came when she prepared her grandfather’s specialty, Chicken Pie à la Mississippi. Upon tasting the first bite, Suzan’s husband exclaimed rapturously, “This is the best thing you have ever made.”


As someone whose passion for family history is paralleled only by a love of food, I find Suzan’s journey through her family’s recipe book undeniably absorbing. Cherries in Winter generously shares this journey with readers, and makes me long for a Sunday supper around her family’s table. I asked Suzan for a preview of what such a supper would have been like, and she said that her grandfather would have made a simple, well-prepared meal of potatoes and corned beef. The scene would have been a raucous one, with everyone gathered around the table laughing hysterically.


This Sunday, First Person Arts is inviting visitors to more intimately experience a meal with Suzan Colón at our event Edible World: Sunday Supper and Family Lore. Suzan will join us for dinner at Bridget Foy’s restaurant; she will be reading excerpts from Cherries in Winter as guests enjoy a special menu based on her family recipes.


Speaking with Suzan and hearing her stories has encouraged me to look at the ways the recession impacted my own life. I recently returned to school with the hope gaining new direction, and searching through boxes in my family’s own basement resulted in the discovery of old text books from my fathers attempt at professional reinvention during the recession of the 1970’s. Dealing with challenges becomes an exercise in expansive thinking. This Sunday, I will enjoy listening to Suzan share a book that succeeds not because it offers readers an escape from the current economic crisis, but rather because it suggests that there is a possibility of accepting it and responding to it.


- Sarah Crawford

This Sunday, April 11th, Bridget Foy’s will be creating a special 3-course menu for Sunday Supper and Family Lore, based on our guest author Suzan Colón’s family recipes. Plus, all diners get a complimentary glass of wine! At $35 ($30 for members), it’s a better deal than Restaurant Week!


Course 1: Split Pea Soup with grilled ham and frizzled leeks
Course 2: Cadillac Meatloaf with bacon, mashed potatoes, and asparagus with Crimini mushroom gravy
Course 3: Apple Cake with spiced pecans and nutmeg whipped cream


For vegetarians, they are offering Tomato Fennel Soup and Eggplant Napoleon with provolone, broccoli rabe, and roasted peppers in a marinara sauce.


Buy your tickets today! (Advance reservations are strongly recommended as only a few tickets will be available at the door.)

Watching a recent comedy show by Turae, a Philly comedian you should definitely check out, made me think. It is very hard sharing a story! Let’s face it; being on a stage isn’t easy. There are those bright lights, strange faces plus that initial awkward silence that can seem like an eternity.


Turae on his basketball career and student loans



Yet somehow comedians get on stage night after night and not only share stories, but share ones that are aimed to get us to laugh. And anyone who has told a bad knock-knock joke knows how hard that is.
(Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?)


What I might find hilarious might only make you chuckle. So it is up to the comedian to mix together the experiences that we both may or may not have to get it a big belly laugh for both of us.


My favorite example is Jerry Seinfeld. His stand up is based on every day experiences and life stories. The things every adult has noticed despite age, race, or social standing. His observations are so funny he got nine seasons of a “show about nothing.”


Jerry Seinfeld on Letterman



When you think about it, comedy may be the hardest form of storytelling. If you want to watch some pros tell a funny story, Helium Comedy Club always has a good mix of comedians; many from notable television shows.


Ever think your stories are good enough to try some stand up? The Comedy Cabaret offers an affordable humor workshop and comedy class. With what you learn you could try your new material out at Laff House Comedy Club’s new comics corner on Wednesdays. Maybe your more of a SNL or Who’s Line is it anyway type. Philly Improv Theater offers improv and sketch comedy classes.


So when you’re at a StorySlam, relax. You can pride yourself on knowing that your story doesn’t have to make us laugh, you just have to share it. Your next chance is on April 12th at World Cafe Live. The theme is Perfect Storm. Doors open at 7:30, slam starts at 8:30. Admission is $10, $8 for members. Our host is Philly comedienne, writer and director Jen Childs of 1812 Productions, Philly’s all-comedy theater company.


-Tiffany Thwaites

Maybe you’ve already heard about that new project PIFA – the Philadelphia International Festival of the Arts. You know, the one the Kimmel Center is hatching for April 2011, bringing together the Roots, the Philadelphia Orchestra, the Ballet, the Circus School and hundreds of other Philly artists for a month’s worth of collaborative, innovative arts programming across the city. Yeah, that little old thang.

Well, the Kimmel Center is announcing the majority of its programming today, and you better believe that First Person Arts is on the bill. So of course we want to share a preview of the two awesome programs we’re putting together.


First Person Arts Show and Tell: Show and Tell is a grown-up take on the grade-school favorite, allowing local and nationally-known celebrities to share the story behind a meaningful object from their lives. See and hear firsthand what inspires and moves these notable personalities. Stay tuned for our line up!
Perelman Theater
Tuesday, April 26th. Time TBD.


First Person Arts Presents The Museum of Broken Relationships: When good love goes bad, what happens to the objects once shared? They can find a new home in the Museum of Broken Relationships, an international exhibit showcasing relics from failed love affairs! In addition to the items currently in the collection (including furry handcuffs and an under knee prosthesis!), First Person Arts will be collecting new items – and stories – from the Philadelphia community to include in the exhibit. At the Kimmel Center, dates TBD.

In anticipation of our April 11th Edible World event, Sunday Supper and Family Lore, the First Person Blog will feature the stories and family recipes of Philly food personalities in the Family Recipe Series. Click here to see our other foodie recipes.


Felicia D’Ambrosio is a part of the Meal Ticket team, the elite food blog at City Paper. For First Person Arts, she shares a longstanding family recipe (and her mother’s lust for danger!). What I love best about this post is that Felicia and her mom got together and made a batch of boilo, this highly alcoholic, citrus and spice drink, specially for the piece. It doesn’t sound like it was such a trial though. As her mother describes it, “Just a lovely mother-daughter afternoon making hooch!”


Boilo, The Coal Miner’s Cure-All


More than just its throat-soothing, influenza-defeating properties, what my mother likes best about Boilo is the danger. “I found an article that said making Boilo was the number-one cause of house fires in the anthracite-coal regions of Pennsylvania in the thirties,” she practically bubbles. A simple mixture of oranges, lemons, ginger ale, honey, cinnamon and caraway hit with eye-watering amounts of moonshine (we used Everclear grain alcohol, lacking a still of our own), Boilo is akin to a hot toddy on steroids.

Boilo, known as the anthracite coal miner’s cure for anything that ails you, was not a part of my mom’s Drexel Hill childhood – she learned about it from her mother’s sister Joan, who recalled her own mother Felicia Ciokajlo, née Swatski, making it with her own homemade ginger ale in Mt. Carmel in the early 1930s. “I’ve seen several different recipes,” my mother related as she juiced orange and lemons for our Boilo project. “Some call for anise, mace or allspice, but I knew my family was poor – they didn’t have a car — and they couldn’t have afforded spices like that. Moonshine, however, they definitely had.”


Intuitive cook that she was, my great-grandmother made her Boilo without a recipe. It was up to my great-aunt Joan to write to her second cousin Joseph Ciokajlo for more information. Joseph passed along a recipe he’d gleaned from a New Philadelphia grandmother that does use lemons – an exotic item in Depression-era Mt. Carmel – but none of the fancy spices my mother finds so unlikely. Despite the name, no boiling happens, as that would evaporate away the microbe-killing booze. As for the danger element, I heartily recommend keeping this project far from open flames, as Everclear or any high-proof alcohol is extremely flammable. Pouring the booze carefully into the pot, my mother looks positively giddy. “Just a lovely mother-daughter afternoon making hooch!” she exclaims, then adds her second-favorite quote from her stash of Boilo lore. “At this point in the recipe, the Boilo may explode.”


Nazdrowie to that.
- Felicia D’Ambrosio (Felicia.DAmbrosio@citypaper.net)


Boilo Recipe
(from “a New Philadelphia grandmother”, as written by Joseph Ciokajlo in a 2003 letter to Joan Wright, née Ciokajlo, adapted by Felicia D’Ambrosio and Catherine Giacobbe)


5 oranges
4 lemons
1 Liter bottle good-quality ginger ale
1 heaping tsp. caraway seeds
6 sticks cinnamon
1.5 quarts honey (local preferred)
1 gallon Everclear or 100-proof whiskey (Four Queens suggested in original recipe)


Equipment: 2 big pots, one with tight-fitting lid; cheesecloth, juicer/reamer, colander, funnel, clean dishwashing gloves


Halve and juice all of the oranges and lemons into the stockpot that has a lid. Throw the rhines (sic) into the pot, along with all of the juice, pulp and seeds. Solids will be strained out later in the process.


Place the stockpot over medium heat and add the liter of ginger ale, caraway seeds and cinnamon sticks. Pour in all of the honey.


Allow the mixture to come to a simmer – when it foams, give it a good stir. Cover pot with lid and turn the heat down to medium-low; allow mixture to cook at a bare simmer for 45 minutes to an hour.


Place a colander in the second large pot. Pour the hot juice-honey mixture through the colander to strain out the big pieces.


Wearing the dishwashing gloves and working carefully (the rinds are very hot), squeeze all of the pulp and liquid out of the rinds through the colander. Discard eviscerated rinds and rinse the colander.


Move the colander over the original pot and line it with cheesecloth. Pour the mixture through the cheesecloth to catch any remaining solid bits or seeds. You may need to scrape the cheesecloth with a wooden spoon to press the liquid through. Gather the cheesecloth around the remaining solids and squeeze hard. Discard solids in cheesecloth, and return the strained mixture to low heat.


Here is the dangerous bit: Working carefully so as not to splash (Everclear is extremely flammable and cannot come into contact with open flames), pour the gallon of grain alcohol into the pot. Despite the name, DO NOT BOIL.


Warm the mixture through gently for just a few minutes and then remove from heat. Using a ladle and funnel, decant the Boilo back into the gallon Everclear jug.


Stopper the jug and store in the pantry, or use it to fill smaller glass bottles or jars for gift giving.


Serve Boilo warm by placing the jar in a gently simmering pan of water with the lid off; the water should come three-quarters of the way up the jar. Remove from the pan with tongs and serve straight up in shot glasses.

In anticipation of our April 11th Edible World event, Sunday Supper and Family Lore, the First Person Blog will feature the stories and family recipes of Philly food personalities. This was going to an every-other-day happening, but we’ve had so many great foodies writing in with recipes, that you can find recipes every day till our event from the likes of chefs, writers and people who just love eating, making and talking about food and family. Click here to see our other foodie recipes.


It seemed more than appropriate, in doing this Family Recipe Series, to include the Erace Brothers, the sibling team heading up popular Green Aisle Grocery. Adam – also the restaurant critic for Philly Weekly and the man behind blogalicious – and Andrew bring locally sourced and specialty food products to East Passyunk strip. You can find Baker E’s whoopie pies and jams there, as well Ekta prepared dishes, house cured bacon from Cafe Estelle and lots of produce and milky goodness from local farms.


The boys have deep roots in South Philly, spreading out to Grandmom Jo’s house at 10th and Mifflin. They spark a possible family feud by picking her string beans and potatoes in a red sauce over the white version from their dad’s side. We at First Person Arts are not responsible for any Erace family discord as a result of this blog post. Enjoy Grandmom Jo’s recipe below.


Both sides of our family have a version of string beans and potatoes, an Italian peasant stew of sorts designed to stretch a little bit of food across a lot of mouths. The Eraces do it without tomatoes (white), while the Lerros, on our mom’s side, prepare it with (red). We’d be in trouble for picking sides, but we like the red better, and can remember standing at Grandmom Jo’s kitchen sink, 10th and Mifflin, picking the stems off bushels of fresh string beans. It seemed to take forever, or maybe it was just that the big bowl of comfort was coming.


Recreating the recipe today requires updating with crushed tomatoes instead of tomato sauce, tons of chopped fresh herbs, lemon zest and a finish with really good extra-virgin olive oil. But this is Grandmom Jo’s formula, right down to the quotable interjections in the middle of your cooking groove. — Adam and Andrew Erace, Green Aisle Grocery


Grandmom Jo’s String Beans & Potatoes
Feeds 4

 
Ingredients:
1 lb fresh string beans, stemmed
4 large potatoes, cut into large chunks
1 yellow onion, chopped
1 large can tomato sauce
½ tsp. dried basil
1 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and Pepper to taste

 
Method
1. Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil. Blanche the string beans in the water, 3 to 5 minutes. Drain the beans into a colander and shock with cold water to set their color. 
2. Heat the olive oil in a deep pot. Add onions and sauté until they soften and brown—“but don’t let them get too brown”—approximately 10 minutes. Season with salt and pepper and add the basil—“I use fresh in the summer”—and chopped potatoes. Toss to coat the potatoes in oil and add the can of tomato sauce, plus a can of water. Bring to a simmer and cook for half an hour. “At least.” 
3. When the potatoes are fork-tender, add the beans and simmer for a few minutes. Adjust seasoning. Add chili flakes if desired. “Eat it with bread. Or without bread. Whatever you want.”

In anticipation of our April 11th Edible World event, Sunday Supper and Family Lore, the First Person Blog will feature the stories and family recipes of Philly food personalities. This was going to an every-other-day happening, but we’ve had so many great foodies writing in with recipes, that you can find recipes every day till our event from the likes of chefs, writers and people who just love eating, making and talking about food and family. Click here to see our other foodie recipes.


Marisa McClellan is another Philly food blogger and canning goddess, known for her super successful blog Food in Jars and canning classes at Foster’s Homewares. The story she shares with First Person Arts is an updated version of an earlier post on Food in Jars. Her family story centers around her dad’s pancake recipe, one built on culinary drive, experimentation and instinct. Oh and the desire for a delicious way to start the day.


Want to be like our Philly Foodies? Share a family recipe at our Edible World event. The deadline is TODAY! Send your recipe, story and a photo to Karina! Reserve your seat at the event here.



As far as I’m concerned, my father is the king of pancakes (and waffles too). During his early twenties, he spent a spell working as a short order cook at the International House of Pancakes. After eating one doughy pancake too many, he determined that he could do better than the sorry mix that IHOP used. So, for a period spanning multiple years, he wholly devoted himself to the creation of a better pancake mix.


By the time my sister and I entered the scene (1979 and 1982), Mo was a self-declared pancake master. There was always a batch of dry mix in the fridge, ready to be combined with eggs, milk and glug of vegetable oil. It was perfect for those Saturday mornings, when nothing but a stack of pancakes would do.


During my lifetime, I’ve put in many hours studying the art of the pancake at my dad’s elbow. He taught me how to tell when a pancake was ready to flip (bubbles around the edges that stay open after popping) and to cook over a medium-low heat, so that cake gets cooked all the way through (to prevent the horror of a pancake where the outside is burnt, but the inside drips with raw batter).


Those pancake lessons were also my first instruction in the art of cooking by feel, as Mo eschewed exact measures when it came to batter mixing. Pulling out his favorite batter bowl, he’d beat an egg for each eater (and an extra for a leftover cake or two), add a nice pour of milk and a quick dollop of canola oil or melted butter. Once he had a loose emulsion, he’d scoop in a couple of serving spoonfuls of dry mix at a time, stirring until the batter was right. He’d look for something that wasn’t runny, but wasn’t stiff either. It’s something that you figure out over time, he’d say.


Since I’ve had my own kitchen in which to play, I’ve altered the sacred dry mix recipe a bit. Luckily, this is just the sort of creative thinking my father encourages, so all toes are intact. My favorite addition is the bit of toasted millet, as it adds a wonderful nutty crunch. This mix is a wonderful thing to keep stashed in a jar at the back of the fridge, because it means that a friend and family pleasing meal is always just a couple of minutes away. I occasionally make these for dinner and add a few chopped pecans and some sliced banana to each cake just after I spoon the batter on the griddle. By adding that bit of protein and some fruit, I convince myself that they’re a healthy and balanced meal (which I then drown in grade b maple syrup).


The mix recipe is below. I make it entirely with whole wheat flour (a combo of regular and pastry), but if you like a lighter pancake, sub in some unbleached all-purpose. These are also divine if you splash a bit of vanilla extract into the batter just before griddling. The dry mix also makes a lovely housewarming or hostess gift, particularly for the pancake lovers in your crowd.


Marisa’s version of Mo’s Famous Pancakes


2 cups whole wheat flour
3 cups whole wheat pastry flour
2 cups honey toasted wheat germ (regular toasted wheat germ can be substituted if you can’t find the honey stuff)
1 cup cornmeal
3/4 cup cane sugar
2 tablespoons salt
3 tablespoons baking powder


Mix it all together and store in an airtight jar or container in the fridge (all those whole grains can go rancid quickly, but cold storage will extend their life).


To use, whisk together three eggs, 1 cup of milk and 2 tablespoons oil or melted butter. Fold in two cups of mix*. If it seems to thick, add a bit more milk. Heat a griddle to medium heat and oil it lightly (a precisely folded paper towel is Mo’s favorite tool for this job). The pancakes are ready to flip when the bubbles around the edges of the cakes pop and stay open. Cook just another minute or two on the other side. Serve with maple syrup (real only, please), jam and yogurt or honey.


*It’s at this point that I add about 1/3 a cup of toasted millet. Toasting it is easy, just spread it on a small baking sheet and bake for about 8 minutes at 350 degrees. Let it cool a little and then fold it into the batter. It adds a wonderful, nutty crunch.

In anticipation of our April 11th Edible World event, Sunday Supper and Family Lore, the First Person Blog will feature the stories and family recipes of Philly food personalities. This was going to an every-other-day happening, but we’ve had so many great foodies writing in with recipes, that you can find recipes every day till our event from the likes of chefs, writers and people who just love eating, making and talking about food and family. Click here to see our other foodie recipes.


Everyone at First Person Arts is getting into the family recipe act, including our founder and Artistic Director Vicki Solot! She recalls a time when Hershey’s syrup came in a .25 can and processed cheese was a gamechanger for the industrious homemaking set. Below she shares her mother’s amazing Cherry Cheesecake with Zwieback Crumb Crust.


Want to be like our Philly Foodies? Share a family recipe at our Edible World event! Send your recipe, story and a photo to Karina by April 2nd! Reserve your seat at the event here.


My mother was considered by everyone in her circle to be a fabulous homemaker. Not only did she keep a spotless house, set a beautiful table and sew like a pro (making every article of clothing I wore until I went off to college), she was also a pretty decent cook – excellent, even, by the standards of the times. By that, I mean that she lived by the 50’s-era homemaking credo that less (effort) is more (free time for mom), so why make something from scratch when you can just as easily get it from a package or a can?


Hence, her signature spaghetti recipe featured a can of mushrooms, a can of Campbell’s tomato soup and a package of velveeta cheese. The brown in her famous brown rice recipe was produced by mixing in a can of consommé. And her bundt recipe (which she referred to as her condolence cake) – was made from a package of Duncan Hines Yellow Cake mix, ¾ of a cup of vegetable oil and – get this — a 25-cent can of Hershey’s chocolate syrup.


But her special occasion cheesecake was a recipe to die for. Its crust was made from crushed zwieback, its central ingredient was a pound of Philadelphia brand cream cheese and its topping, a can of cherry pie filling. Easy but elegant – a dessert that would make Donna Reed proud.


It was spring break and several friends from college came home with me for a visit. My mom went all out, as she always did for company, preparing a baked steak (smeared on top with a can of tomato paste and Worchester sauce), the aforementioned brown rice, and a salad topped with her usual — Wishbone dressing. The coup de grace was the cheesecake, which she had left on the screen porch to chill until it was time to serve. After the dinner dishes were cleared, mom marched in and presented the cheesecake, setting it at her place for all to admire, while she brought in the coffee, dessert plates, and serving knife.


It was Freddy, my friend Wendy’s boyfriend, who first noticed. Then Freddy nudged Wendy, and Wendy nudged me, who screamed “Mom!” who rushed in from the kitchen to see an army of ants ringing the cake plate.


In a moment of utter grace, she silently swooped up the plate and disappeared with it into the kitchen. Moments later, she returned to the table — a sly smile on her face and a new plate of cheesecake in her hands.


“Sweetie!” my dad exclaimed, “how fortunate that you made two of them.”


“Of course,” she replied, “it’s so easy, why wouldn’t I?”


- Vicki Solot


Lorraine Lassar’s Cherry Cheese Cake


Zwieback Crust
1 package zwieback crumbs
1/2 cup sugar
3/4 to 1 stick butter
1 tsp. cinnamon


Combine ingredients and press into a 12 inch pan.


Filling
1 lb. cream cheese
1 cup cottage cheese
3 tbsp. or more flour
Dash of salt
1 tsp. vanilla
lemon rind and juice
4 egg yolks
1 cup evaporated milk
4 egg whites, beaten, folded in


Mix together above ingredients. Pour into pie shell. Bake at 325 degrees for one hour. Cool in oven (NOT on porch!). Top with cherry pie filling.