This past weekend I said “goodbye” to a friend I knew in Oklahoma before I moved. David Glenn Stone (DGS - or as many people knew him - “Diggs”) passed away unexpectedly at 44. His memorial service brought together people with memories from the past and a few of his family members I’d never met. Diggs and I were in the same friend group at church. He was kind, generous, and funny. He was always up for an adventure, whether it was a road trip down Route 66, camping in the Ozarks, or fountain diving on the 4th of July. And after I moved, he was willing to help me troubleshoot I.T. problems, even from thousands of miles away. Since I have moved so often, I’ve said many goodbyes. With technology and social media, though, I can keep in touch with whom I choose through the years. Diggs was the first close friend I had to say goodbye to permanently on earth. The longer a person lives, the more new people one may encounter, and the more opportunity for connection one has. Regardless of the loss one feels after a goodbye, connections are rich opportunities we are given here on Earth, and they should not be taken for granted or avoided for fear of eventual hurt or loss.
An easy way I make connections or store memories is through associations with food. Diggs was part of a group that celebrated my college graduation with me in 2009. We went to dinner at Johnny Carino’s and got dessert at La Baguette. (Nothing beats pasta, except for maybe bread!) That same summer, a similar friend group took a road trip down Route 66 when it was too hot to go camping for my birthday in July. We stopped at Pops in Acadia and got dinner at Carrabba’s in Tulsa - again with the winning combination of pasta and bread.
Diggs also supported my pie-baking endeavors by purchasing a cranberry apple pie from me for Thanksgiving after I moved back to Norman in 2022. (This is similar to the recipe I use.) Diggs and his dog Roxy may not pop up on my newsfeed anymore, and he’s not around for me to ask questions about what crazy thing my computer is doing. But I appreciate the memories, including the food and the restaurants that will make me think of our time together.
Two other important people I’ve had to say goodbye to over the years were my grandparents. Both my mom’s parents passed away when I was living away from family - my grandfather when I was working at the camp in Colorado and my grandmother a year later when I was in Arkansas at culinary school.
My grandpa, Robert “Bob” McIntosh, passed at 83. His health declined after he fell, broke his hip, and had complications during recovery. He had a full life and left with family and friends that loved and remember him. The same is true of my grandmother, Betty Reed McIntosh, who passed a little over a year later on Thanksgiving 2017. She was living with my uncle, and he said she went upstairs to nap after an early dinner and didn’t wake up. She lived to be 88.
I had more time to prepare for my grandfather's passing since his health gradually declined. I was working as an intern at Horn Creek and would get updates from my mom. She spoke to family in CA and had the opportunity to go out and visit more often than I did. I shared updates I felt comfortable with during our staff meetings and prayer request times. Since he was the first family member I had lost, it was nice to be surrounded by (both living with and working with) friends that had gone through a similar experience. It was a day in late April when I heard he passed away. The snow was still on the mountains and piled in the water slides. We had spring break camp groups visiting, but this was also the time to prepare for summer. I didn’t want to draw attention, so I shared the news of my grandfather passing with only a few people. As the food service intern who was getting hired full-time for a cooking/ hospitality position, I was instrumental in helping develop camp menus for the summer. I was approved to try out a new meal on the staff at our director’s house for an evening staff dinner, which happened occasionally. I worked all afternoon in one of the camp kitchens making Sloppy Joes, onion rings, and coleslaw. It was simple food, but something my hospitality director and I thought would go over well at Ranch - the camp on property dedicated to youth groups in the summer months. I loaded the hotel pans in my car and unloaded them at the house for the staff dinner. Once my part was over, I got out of the way since I didn't feel like socializing. Instead, I sat on the stairs and began to cry. Has that ever happened to you? You keep yourself busy for so long, then emotion just hits you, whether you want it to or not. One of my bosses and our director’s wife found me, hugged me, and told me to go home. I was allowed to be sad, which is what I did. I went back to the house I shared with the other interns, sat on my floor, and cried. Sometimes, you just have to sit and be sad.
My grandmother passing a little over a year later on Thanksgiving was both unexpected and not. She was older, lived a full life, and was tired. It was still unexpected for us - her family. No one wants a holiday to be marred by death. The time between finding out my grandparents passed and their respective funerals seemed endless.
I remember being at camp and in Arkansas at culinary school wishing it was time for the funeral, so I could leave and be with family again. I felt in limbo - knowing the person was gone but not fully being able to say “goodbye” yet. It was strange to go about “business as usual” while missing someone and wishing I was elsewhere.
But as always, I look to food for connections and memories. My grandfather loved food. He loved Costco finds and large quantities - things that were not necessary to live, but certainly made life more delicious. Their house had giant jars of green olives, plastic canisters of individually wrapped chocolate-coated almond biscotti, and Italian ice cups - I never knew if he bought them for the grandkids or because he liked them. They had big bricks of cheese in the refrigerator since my grandpa loved cheese and taught his kids and grandkids to love it too. It was mainly just the two of them since visits with grandkids were farther apart the older we got. Because of this, it wasn’t uncommon to find mold on a block of cheese if it wasn’t eaten fast enough. That was when I first heard to cut it off, and “You’ll be fine.” That was my grandma’s mantra; she lived through the depression and taught us “waste not, want not.”
While my grandpa loved food - cooking, eating, and sharing - my grandma seemed to eat as a necessity. She enjoyed food, too, and wouldn’t say no to a cup of clam chowder; she just passed on the sourdough bread bowl. As one of six siblings and a mother to five, my grandmother knew how to make food last, and she always ensured her family had food to eat, even if that meant she didn’t eat as much. I remember my grandmother, taking small servings and getting full easily. However, she had the things she enjoyed. She always had a cup of coffee in her hands. She liked a cookie now and then, and she liked fresh fruit. I also remember that she enjoyed cottage cheese. It is a strange thing to remember, but I do. I’m not sure if it was due to the health and digestive benefits or if the taste and texture made the food appealing. I, myself, like cottage cheese with fresh berries. Another way to eat cottage cheese is in Ken’s Cottage Cheese Slicing Loaf with Dill and Chives. I’ve never heard of cottage cheese in bread before. I’ve made lots of bread with other cheeses, but never cottage cheese. The crumb was springy and spongy because the cheese melted instead of remaining curdled and non-homogenous. The bread also called for toasted walnuts, and I subbed cheddar cheese for the suggested crumbled blue cheese. It would be fine toasted with some butter, but my preferred way to eat this bread is with a scrambled egg on top for breakfast - another thing I remember my grandma enjoying. I think she’d approve.
Instead of sharing the cottage cheese bread recipe, which is delicious, I thought I’d share a family recipe. A relative on my grandfather’s side of the family passed down the recipe for Zolivary (my own spelling since I’ve never seen it written). Family members have switched it up through the years such as adding more or less cheese and different kinds. I like ground turkey since it’s healthier, but ground beef is the original choice, and I swap regular canned corn for the original creamed corn. My uncle may even add hot sauce. Worcestershire is essential, though. If I had to eat one thing every day, this may be it. (I’m glad I don’t have to make that choice, though.)
Zolivary
Ingredients:
1 package of egg white noodles
1 lb. browned hamburger
1 can of black olives, drained
1 can crushed tomatoes, with juice
1 can cream corn
Cheddar cheese, to taste
Directions:
Mix ingredients in a casserole dish.
Bake in a 350°F oven for 20 minutes with the lid on (or covered with foil) and for 20 minutes with the lid off.
Serve with Worcestershire sprinkled on top.
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