ROUSES_Holiday2018Magazine-FINAL.indd

words “sting like the dickens.” Orange peeling was an “all hands on deck” process, with kids, adults and even Pappa pulled in to carefully separate peel from orange flesh. But woe to the peeler who left any kind of membrane or pith in the orange bowl — Lorelle always performed the final inspection before stacking, and any imper- fect bits would earn you a stern (but loving) fussing, a specialty of Mamma’s family. The subject of Christmas ambrosia also brought with it a perennial, mostly good- natured disagreement between Lorelle and her older sister Mildred (who everybody called Bubba). As we were growing up, the two girls were the last of their seven siblings alive, and they were two very strong but distinctly different Baton Rouge matriarchs. Bubba was fourth in birth order and seven years older than my grandmother, who was sixth. Mamma was a homemaker with eight children, while Bubba ran a college book- store near LSU with her husband and two sons. In many ways, the two were as close to opposites as sisters could be: Lorelle was zaftig and emotional, and she lived in her kitchen, Bubba was wiry and slight, and she ruled her family business from a tall chair in the back of the store. Mamma smothered you in hugs; Bubba made sure you were on the right track. Both sisters loved you, but showed it in very different ways. Lorelle told rambling stories that lasted for days; Bubba was the only person in our family who had no time for foolishness. Ask any of my aunts about ambrosia, and they’ll be quick to point out that, being a working woman, “Bubba liked shortcuts.” Her ambrosia, similar to yet worlds apart from Lorelle’s, had a few noticeably differ- ent details. Mostly alone in her kitchen, 2 large cans crushed pineapple with heavy syrup or just juice — your choice. Sugar to taste (optional). Maraschino cherries, drained well. HOW TO PREP 1 Poke the eyes of the coconut with an ice pick; drain and save the coconut milk. Strain, if necessary, to remove any husk. 2 Crack the shell with a hammer on a hard surface (e.g., concrete patio, sturdy picnic table). Separate the meat from the shell. Peel the dark skin away with a paring knife or peeler. 3 Grate shelled coconut on the small, but not small- est, side of a grater (knuckles beware!), or use food

Bubba would peel oranges thoroughly but cut them crosswise into sections, membrane and all. Pre-sweetened bags of baking coconut stood in for the freshly grated kind (“Angel Flake is just as good!” she’d proclaim). And when the discussion turned to technique, Bubba would adopt a no-nonsense, older sister’s tone: “I don’t see why she goes to all that trouble. I don’t think it’s worth the fuss.” As we kids grew into adulthood, we realized that the annual ambrosia disagreement wasn’t really about the dish on the table, but about our grandmothers still being, deep inside, the little girls they were back on Sicily Island. Two very different, equally strong personalities, who still remembered their growing-up years and who still had that big/little sister dynamic that flared up whenever they disagreed on something. Even as she tended to eight kids, Lorelle was still the little sister, and older sister Bubba could get under her skin by giving her a loving, but mostly stern, “talk- ing to.” Most other times, Bubba’s advice could send a sensitive Lorelle into fits, but come Christ- mastime, Mamma rarely let the Ambrosia Battle escalate. She seemed more confident in her role as mother, cook and person.When it came to her ambrosia, she was a purist, and quite comfortable with that role. And she loved her big sister, different as they were. In the end, that’s what makes a family classic — a dish that simultane- ously celebrates our commonalities and differences. A dish that we can enjoy and fuss about at the same time. And a dish that helps us love each other, in spite of ourselves. processor and pulse until chopped. 4 Peel oranges, cutting away all the white pith. Divide the sections and remove the membrane. (I use a small knife to run inside the membrane of each segment, lifting it out.) 5 Drain the canned pineapple, saving the juice or syrup. 6 To assemble, make two or three layers of oranges, pineapple and coconut, sprinkling each layer with sugar if desired. Pour reserved coconut milk and some but not all of the pine- apple syrup or juice — just enough to moisten the layers. 7 Decorate the top with the cherries. Chill 4 hours or overnight.

cent cocktail cherries were simple enough procedures, but the rituals surrounding coco- nut and citrus, in Mamma’s eyes, were what made it the magic dish she remembered. And in her kitchen, those memories and ritu- als remained sacred. The flaky white coconut needed to be freshly grated — not too fine, not too coarse — and soaked in its natural milk. In other words, somebody had to “kill the coconut,” a job that usually fell to one of the younger of Mamma’s eight kids. Going from solid nut to snowy shards took four distinct steps — poke, drain, crack and grate — and required the use of hardware-store kitchen imple- ments (ice pick and claw hammer). “Poking out the eyes” came first (and was the most grossly evocative). Use the ice pick to pierce the coconut’s three stem holes (hammer if needed) and drain the coconut milk into a bowl. Then use the hammer to crack the brown nut open, revealing the hard flesh. That, strangely, was the fun part — a chore for one of the boys or younger kids, involving just the right amount of possible danger. Among the kids, the grating process was universally dreaded and must be avoided at all costs. The meaty chunks of shell had to be scraped against the metal box grater (one click coarser than that finest “nutmeg” side) and nothing could/should be wasted. The unlucky person tasked with grating ran the risk of physical harm, as one slip could mean scraped knuckles, tiny cuts and a slight pink tinge to the final product. (If you could successfully pass along this job to a younger sibling, you did…) One unlucky “coconut cut” would haunt you during the orange-peeling process, where the acidic juice would, in Lorelle’s LORELLE’S SICILY ISLAND AMBROSIA ADAPTED FROM THE ARCHIVES OF NOËL HEBERT PRESCOTT, BATON ROUGE WHAT YOU WILL NEED The meat of 1 fresh coconut, grated not too fine; drain and save the coconut milk. Navel oranges, peeled, with membranes re- moved (amount depends on size but you will need roughly 8-10 good-sized oranges) and divided into segments.

41 everyday NOVEMBER/DECEMBER 2018