Be not schmuck, be not obnoxious
In which I stare at a wall of jams and have a cultural disconnect. An experience from this afternoon.
Employee of Cardullo's: Hello, can I help you find anything?
Me: (holding a jar of apricot jam already) Yes, please. Do you carry prune and poppy?
E.C.: I'm sorry, we don't sell poppy seeds, but we have prunes right over here.
(The prunes are in a plastic container with a Cardullo's sticker on them and otherwise indistinguishable from the significantly less expensive kind I have at home already, waiting to be made into prune filling if I can't locate any of the storebought kind. Which I was hoping to do at a store with a wall of jams.)
Me: Thanks, but I was looking for prune preserves. And poppy seed paste. I'm making hamantashn.
E.C.: Oh. (after showing me the shelf with tins of almond and pistachio paste, which is not what I'm looking for, either) We only carry those around the holidays.
Me: (mentally) What holidays? What other holidays are there where people buy up stores of poppy seed paste? Bake Mohntaschen? Do you have a run on hamantash fillings around Passover? Do you only celebrate the Latke-Hamantash Debate in this town? And while I'm being incredulous, the holidays? (aloud) Do you know anywhere else around here that sells them, then?
E.C.: No. They're specialty items.
Me: Thank you.
(I purchase a jar of damson jam, because it is plummy and unusual, and my original jar of apricot jam, resisting the employee's hard sell on a different brand, and a couple of caramels because some of them are the salt kind I like and others are made with balsamic vinegar and that's either a stroke of genius or a terrible idea—it's the former, fortunately—and I leave.)
Ask
nineweaving; she was there.
On the bright side, even though I had to go to Lexington because we still don't have a functioning oven at home, I made nearly six dozen hamantashn tonight. The flavors are apricot, damson, strawberry (only a few, because the jam liquefied while baking), homemade prune (needed more soaking time, but the taste is good—sweetened with honey and cinnamon), and homemade poppy (totally unsuccessful, but I ate one as soon as it came out of the oven anyway. Tasted like a bagel. Not enough honey. Next year with more prep time). Some of them are coming to
phi's birthday tomorrow.
derspatchel ate one of the apricots when I got home and involuntarily patted his tummy.
So my day was, ultimately, emotionally and traditionally satisfying, and as a side effect of baking at my parents' house, I got to see the completed redecoration of my ex-bedroom into a nursery for the days every week my mother is babysitting her grandchild (it has a violet accent wall, a crib my father built, and art from four generations), but seriously, I didn't think either prunes or poppy seeds were that obscure.
Employee of Cardullo's: Hello, can I help you find anything?
Me: (holding a jar of apricot jam already) Yes, please. Do you carry prune and poppy?
E.C.: I'm sorry, we don't sell poppy seeds, but we have prunes right over here.
(The prunes are in a plastic container with a Cardullo's sticker on them and otherwise indistinguishable from the significantly less expensive kind I have at home already, waiting to be made into prune filling if I can't locate any of the storebought kind. Which I was hoping to do at a store with a wall of jams.)
Me: Thanks, but I was looking for prune preserves. And poppy seed paste. I'm making hamantashn.
E.C.: Oh. (after showing me the shelf with tins of almond and pistachio paste, which is not what I'm looking for, either) We only carry those around the holidays.
Me: (mentally) What holidays? What other holidays are there where people buy up stores of poppy seed paste? Bake Mohntaschen? Do you have a run on hamantash fillings around Passover? Do you only celebrate the Latke-Hamantash Debate in this town? And while I'm being incredulous, the holidays? (aloud) Do you know anywhere else around here that sells them, then?
E.C.: No. They're specialty items.
Me: Thank you.
(I purchase a jar of damson jam, because it is plummy and unusual, and my original jar of apricot jam, resisting the employee's hard sell on a different brand, and a couple of caramels because some of them are the salt kind I like and others are made with balsamic vinegar and that's either a stroke of genius or a terrible idea—it's the former, fortunately—and I leave.)
Ask
On the bright side, even though I had to go to Lexington because we still don't have a functioning oven at home, I made nearly six dozen hamantashn tonight. The flavors are apricot, damson, strawberry (only a few, because the jam liquefied while baking), homemade prune (needed more soaking time, but the taste is good—sweetened with honey and cinnamon), and homemade poppy (totally unsuccessful, but I ate one as soon as it came out of the oven anyway. Tasted like a bagel. Not enough honey. Next year with more prep time). Some of them are coming to
So my day was, ultimately, emotionally and traditionally satisfying, and as a side effect of baking at my parents' house, I got to see the completed redecoration of my ex-bedroom into a nursery for the days every week my mother is babysitting her grandchild (it has a violet accent wall, a crib my father built, and art from four generations), but seriously, I didn't think either prunes or poppy seeds were that obscure.

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Of course, I've been told that Indian Pudding (canned) is seasonal, too. In January. (Long stare: "It's winter. That's when you want Indian Pudding. When do you think its season is?" "Thanksgiving...")
King Arthur Flour used to sell good poppyseed paste, it would be worth keeping a few cans around if they still do. And the almond filling. You can roll them up in bread dough for quick-and-dirty special brunch treats.
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Our hamantaschen turned into puffy round jam cookies; too much or too active baking powder I would guess? The pear-ginger conserve slipped off most of them but was otherwise delicious. We're combining Purim with an irreverent baby-naming ceremony co-facilitated by our more seriously religious friend and a Sister of Perpetual Indulgence.
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How was the damson jam? They are the plums of Damascus, and the Romans scattered stones of them all across Britian. They are found in fosses.
I then went and ate a Duck Waffle, because Duck Waffle.
Nine
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Oh, dear. I am so sorry. I kind of feel guilty, as though you had run into an Englishman, although I know that cannot have been true.
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Happy Purim! And Ides!
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I make pomegranate balsamic caramels. I'm quite fond of them. I'll bring you some at Readercon if you like!
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I didn't think either prunes or poppy seeds were that obscure.
I'd never thought that, either.
I'm glad the hamentashen worked out and that the day was ultimately satisfying.
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