Hallowed Evening, Hallowe'en

Moonrise over Avebury, ancient spiritual site in Wiltshire, England.  (Wiki Commons)

If you consider yourself religious, you may think of October 31 as All Hallow’s Eve, the day before the beloved dead are honored in church services.

If you are not religious, you may think of October 31 as a time to overload on candy if you’re a kid or food and drink if you’re an adult.

Either way, for most, it’s a time to watch scary movies, scream and just generally carouse in ways that would seem, well, ghoulish the rest of the year.

Hallowe'en is more spiritual than you think

Either way, you’d be wrong about the original purpose of Halloween. For ancient cultures worldwide, but for the Celts of Europe particularly, the end of October was a spiritual time, but not a frightening one. Nor was the holiday always and only on October 31. It occurred whenever the druids decided the thin veil separating our mundane world from the world of spirit was thinnest. It usually was at the end of October or beginning of November.

The druids based their precise choice of a day to celebrate the turn of the earthly wheel on the shortening of the days and the arrival of the first good hoar frosts.

On the day they chose, called Samhaim (pronounced So-When), prayers to the earth and spirit powers would be uttered, and special attention would be given to the memories and honoring of those who had left the earthly vale and had passed over to another world. 

Samhain, and the earthly cycle

Sensibly, the Celts regarded Samhain as the start of a new year. Late fall/early winter was the gestation period after which, in spring, birth would happen. Through the summer, those born would grow to maturity―sheep and other stock―and in the fall, as the year came to a close, those animals old enough for slaughter would be prepared, and roots would be dug to last through the gestation period of the winter.

While certainly there was awareness of ghosts, it was not the awareness of a modern horror movie. Rather, it was the awareness that, whether one thinks of it as supernatural or simply the reflections of memories in one’s own mind, our beloved departed are with us then.

The church purloined the holiday, turning it into a much more corporate affair, and loading it with liturgical expectations that, for many, interfere with their own need to honor the departed simply and with more love than ceremony. For others, the ceremonies of the churches are welcome.

A new sort of Hallowe'en celebration?

As for me, I have always loathed the fake skeletons, the dirty tricks, the bwa-ha-ha mechanical toys and the celebration of the fiendish. Fiendishness is not at all what Samhain was about.  Perhaps there’s no harm in it, to a point.

But what, one wonders, would happen―in spite of or along with―the church’s demands and modern secular expectations of ghoulish mirth…

If we carved happy faces on our pumpkins, lighted them, and carried them out under the night sky.

If we stood quietly until we could begin to hear the music of the wind, and see the paintings done by stars, framed by the last leaves on venerable trees.

If we attempted to commune in quiet grace, just for a few minutes, with those we loved and lost.

One wonders if a quiet, thankful approach to this ancient season could change the upheaval so prevalent in today’s world….

If we simply turned a raucous Halloween into a sanctified moment or two or three or an hour or an evening, and actually savored the ending of an old year of birth, growth and death, and looked ahead to a period of quiet gestation during which the roots of all there is could renew themselves….

If we stopped the chatter, and focused on the truth.

If we would forsake our daily companions for a short while, and look, for a few moments, to the wisdom of those we see among us no longer….

 If we could be as quiet as a contemplative druid for a single hour, and release our understanding of how we can all go on into a better season to the suffering universe.

I wonder.

The stars would surely remain in their heaven, but maybe we could approach their peace and constancy just a tiny little bit.

Weird food with prunes, dates and other stuff Americans hate

Prunes

By Édouard Manet (1832–1883) Wikimedia Commons

Quite a few years ago, I experienced a revelation while visiting Paris: Americans don't know everything about what foods go together...but they think they do.


For instance, I never would have combined prunes with ice cream. And yet, the first time I had a dish of vanilla ice cream, chopped pitted prunes, chocolate sauce and creme Chantilly, I was transported.

It is so simple. Put two scoops of vanilla ice cream in a dish, preferably a fancy dish as befits so elegant a combination. Add a small handful of chopped, moist dried and pitted prunes around the base. Spoon over it a couple of tablespoons of high-quality chocolate sauce (depending on your chocoholism), and top with lightly sweetened whipped cream. Voila!

I have served this many times at dinner parties. At one, a guest asked, "Who puts prunes in ice cream? You're kidding, right?"  I assured him I was not kidding, but that he didn't have to eat it. He did eat it. He still thought it was weird, but he ate it.

I think the weirdest dessert I ever served was a total flop of a lemon souffle pie. I have no clue where I found the recipe, but if I see it again, I shall burn it. I strewed chocolate syrup over the top of that mess to attempt a save. I didn't think it was saved, but the flavors of lemon and chocolate together will pretty much appeal to any mildly sophisticated dessert lover.

Years after my lemon souffle pie failure and even years after discovering the French ice cream delight, I discovered an ice cream as wonderful as the French dish: Afghan ice cream.

I really should try to recreate the treat they serve at The Helmand Restaurant in Baltimore. It contains dates, dried figs and mango in a vanilla base. There is some spice as well, perhaps cardamom and a bit of cinnamon.  Watch this space for my attempt.

Meanwhile, if you're near Baltimore, here's the contact info. and website for The Helmand:

806 North Charles Street
Baltimore, MD 21201
410 752-0311

Visit the website at www.helmand.com. You can see the whole menu there, including kado borwani,  "Pan-fried and baked baby pumpkin seasoned with sugar and served on yogurt garlic sauce."  Yum. 

***

Find everything you need for the French ice cream treat below...except the fresh cream for whipping. 

The Cuisinart ice cream maker is the same one I use (although the one shown is a newer model), and it's both inexpensive and efficient. Also, easy to clean. Couldn't live without it. Of course, you can buy your ice cream ready made, but go for the creamiest you can find. 

If you can manage it, though, my home recipe for vanilla ice cream is so simple even I can't possibly forget it:

Ingredients

• 1 cup milk (Guernsey or Jersey if you can get it; often available at Fresh Market stores in the Southeast)
• 2 cups heavy/whipping cream, preferably not ultrapasteurized
• 2/3 c. superfine sugar or a little less if you prefer ice cream that's less sweet
• 2 tsp. vanilla

Method

1. Put sugar into large bowl. Add milk and stir until sugar is dissolved.
2. Add vanilla; stir well.
3. Add cream and stir to just blend.
4. Turn on ice cream maker according to manufacturer's directions, and add cream mixture as directed. 
5. Allow mixer to continue until ice cream is frozen; follow manufacturer's directions, but it usually takes under half an hour.
6. Invite anyone at home with you to lick the paddle and spoon the frozen bits off the side of the freezer bowl, carefully.*

* This is an essential part of honoring the household gods. If you are alone when you make the ice cream, lick the paddle and spoon yourself...or if the dog is around, invite the dog to lick! Ice cream is good...but ice cream just now made is great, and should be shared whenever possible