I N T E N T I O N A L A P P R E C I AT I O N O F N O R T H E R N M I C H I G A N

S P R I N G 2012

A NORTHERN MICHIGAN SEASONAL JOURNAL

WELCOME NORTH

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WelcomeNorth

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Ed i to r ’ s Welcome

WELCOME NORTH

Spring | 2012

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“We are products not just of our familial upbringings, but prod-ucts of place. The same environ-mental elements that make the peaches at Bill’s Farm Market so perfect or the tomatoes at Pond Hill Farm so divine are having their effect on you and me too.”

-Page 7

CONTENTS

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Essay

This essay was first published in the Harbor Light Newspaper, Harbor Springs, Michigan, in September, 2011.

At Home in Harbor Springs,

With a Grateful HeartBY MAUREEN ABOOD

It comes as no surprise to me that my earliest memory of Harbor Springs has

to do with ice cream. Two scoops served not one on top of the other but side

by side in a cone from The Lemon Tree, which is now Turkey’s. Turns out that

a great many of my Harbor Springs memories are associated with food in one

way or another. When we landed in our home on Main Street, we discovered a

wonderful irony: that our next door neighbor was, like us, Lebanese. Latifi Huff-

man made us a big Lebanese dinner to celebrate our newfound, and unlikely,

Lebanese connection in Harbor Springs. It was a feast that no doubt took her

days of painstaking preparation, her way of affirming our shared culture and, in

the tradition of many a Lebanese woman, her way of expressing her love. There

has to be all kinds of good karma coming off of the table I write on right now; it

is the same table that was once in Latifi’s kitchen. Often joining us on the front

porch in the evening before going out for dinner, Latifi was a force to be reckoned

with at 4 feet tall. She rivaled our pink gladiolas with her own glad, bright pink

dresses and matching lipstick, telling stories of herself as a girl (“I was beautiful

honey, and I didn’t know it!”) and laughing easily, especially when she talked

with my parents.

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That was true of most anyone who has come up on our porch over the years, where there is always lemonade and conversation. My father, Camille Abood, came up north from a young age to fish with his father and his friends. He always wanted a place here, and to share his passion for the water and the north country with his wife, Maryalice, and his family. Main Street was the perfect place for him because it al-lowed him to keep tabs on the town and its activities while still enjoying Little Traverse Bay nearby.

On more than one occasion we arrived from downstate to find a beautiful apple pie, warm and fragrant, on our kitchen counter made by our neighbor on the other side, Aris Smith. The Smiths and their children have meant a great deal to the Aboods. Their roots in this town match those of the massive maple trees in their yard, deep and sturdy. Their men march in the town parades as veterans; they meet life’s challenges, of which they have experienced many, like those maples as well: with great strength and fortitude. Mr. Smith used to watch us coming and going from his own porch, always telling us to drive safely back down to Chicago or wherever one might be headed, and to come back soon. I remember when they lost a son, a young man, years ago and my parents referenced the Smith family in instruct-ing ours, as one we should emulate for their resilience in the face of adver-sity. We have found ample opportunities to make use of this instruction.

From the front porch I have eaten the best grilled hot dogs on the planet (which is saying a lot after living in Chicago for years), while watching every parade, Memorial Day and the 4th of July, for most of my life. The only 4th of July that did not find an Abood on Main Street was the year my father died, just days before the fourth. But the idea of coming up for the holiday was a strong impetus for my father in the weeks of his short terminal illness. His eyes lit up from their fog of pain when we spoke to him of Up North, how my brother would fly him there, and he could sit on his porch again. If I had to guess I would say that as my father’s soul took flight, his mind had him in Harbor Springs, out in the bay in his boat eating lunch and watching the sail races, or sitting on the porch with my mother.

That summer the house was closed up until my mom and I ventured up a few months after his death. What a harsh reality it was to enter the house and face the fact that he would not be here again. We cried as we drove down the hill into town and as we opened up the house and went out on the porch, enveloped in the numbness that only the death of a beloved can inflict. Harbor Springs broke our hearts that summer, but in the years since it has also helped us to heal. Because this is where we come to gather, to remember who we have been and where we are headed but most of all to simply live in the moment at hand, always with the sense of my father’s presence, and always striv-ing for that same joyous yet meditative calm he found here.

We find it on the porch and in the bay, and we find it at the table. One experiences a marked increase in appetite on entering Harbor Springs. This is because of Up North terroir—which is a “sense of place,” and the effect of environmental elements on the food and drink coming out of that place. Terroir is about how the land from which anything is grown imparts a unique quality that is specific to that region. Harbor Springs terroir begins with the water: springs that bubble out of the beaches in Petoskey or the water fountains in Harbor Springs are like fountains of youth, a Holy Grail. I have not tasted purer, sweeter water anywhere. This purity extends to the light here, yellow light that casts itself across the summer days, and the violet veil that it becomes at dusk and dawn. It’s an orchestration, along with soil, bay breezes, and other exquisite secrets of the seasons that only a higher power, God, could conduct. The outcome in food is an explosion of flavor, color,

and texture, grand and fleeting like the fireworks finale over the bay on the 4th of July. They boom and strike awe in us; they echo down the lake. Then they are gone until next year.

When I recently finished culinary school in a place that is known for its terroir—northern California—I wondered where I could possibly go next that would stand up to the thrill I had just experienced living in San Francisco, cooking and learning about food and wine, walking every day to school along the San Francisco Bay, eating produce of the highest quality year-round. I knew that I would not be seeking a position on the line in a restaurant, but rather would want to find a place where I could settle in, cook and write for a time. Ideally this creative life would take place near a body of water.

So landing in Harbor Springs for the summer was a no-brainer, a natural spot to spend time again with family, cook with my mother and reignite my writing, in the form of a food blog. And here I’ve been inspired, like the Lebanese in the Mediterranean are, by the sumptu-ous bounty to such an extent that my blog posts of stories and photos every week are beginning to feel like an aria, an extended love song,

about this place. Last week the quote on my blog for one of my “Postcards from Up North” read that “there shall be eternal summer in the grateful heart.” That reminds me of how my mother, sister and I always toast with our cock-

tails from any location and in any season: we clink our glasses and say, “happy summer!” That little cheers recalls for us that we carry summer in Harbor Springs with us all of the time.

But the season itself of summer in Harbor Springs does end, always sooner than we’d like. Staying on for the winter this year—that has taken a little more of my consideration. We came for short visits at Christmas when I was a child, driving up on Christmas day and eating Campbell’s bean with bacon soup and my mother’s Christmas cookies and baklawa. My father read to his five children, and we played games into the wee hours. I always made a bee-line downtown to Howse’s to satiate the craving I’d had for those chocolates since summer’s end, and to walk home in the snow licking one of their holiday lollipops. Here we escaped for a short time to a wintery world that felt like it belonged in the story books we were reading from.

How, though, would the long cold winter in a tough economy play for me now? My dad won’t be here to read stories and my mother will wisely be in the Florida sun. I remembered though how my living room in Chicago evokes Harbor Springs in its total glory, with James Peery paintings of the bay and Holy Childhood Church in summer on one wall, and a huge Virgil Haynes silvery winter scene in town on another.

My decision to stay for the winter has come to me slowly, but was finally clear when I realized that terroir doesn’t just impact foodstuffs. Terroir produces…us. We are products not just of our familial upbring-ings, but products of place. The same environmental elements that make the peaches at Bill’s Farm Market so perfect or the tomatoes at Pond Hill Farm so divine are having their effect on you and me too. Just as our lives are filled with both joy and sorrow, the abundance of summer would not be without the fallow, stark beauty of winter. I have learned enough by now in life to seek the unknown, even the difficult, because in time I recognize that it was out of the challenge that I grew the most. So here I will be this winter, in Harbor Springs with a grateful heart.

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I have learned enough by now in life to seek the unknown, even the difficult, because in time I recognize that it was

out of the challenge that I grew the most. So here I will be this winter, in Harbor Springs with a grateful heart.

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Elisa Sel tzerEmmet County Director of Recycl ing

W hen you arr ived in Emmet County, re-cycling star ted with just two newspaper drop-off sites. . .How did you begin build-ing momentum for what exists today? Did you always have a grand vision for the program?

From the beginning the plan was to develop convenient, comprehensive recycling pro-grams that were sustainable. The commu-nity real ly responded with strong support for county-wide recycle drop sites and a wide range of materials accepted. The vision cre-ated the momentum. Once the basic pro-gram was established, we continued building upon it with accepting more materials for recycling and offer ing more ser vices, such as curbside recycling.

We all need role models. Folks who inspire us to learn, grow, make a difference. Emmet County is incredibly for-tunate to have Elisa Seltzer running the county’s recycling programs, as she has shown time and again how one per-son’s t ireless efforts can, and do, create posit ive change in communities. Here, El iza shares some of thoughts on being a visionary who conquers trash mountains, one piece of reusable “garbage” at a t ime.

Michigan’s Recycling Rock Star

People

You are often referred to as a “hero” in the recycling world. W ho is your hero?

Bunyan Br yant. He was my professor at University of Michigan’s School of Natural Resources and Environment. He was involved in U of M’s Urban Technological and Environmental Planning Program, and from him I learned how to effect change. How to get things done. How to craft policy to affect desired outcomes. How to de-velop messages on complicated environmental issues so that people can understand them and make informed choices.

Does l iving in nor ther n Michigan make you feel even more inspired for the work you are doing?

Absolutely. I moved here to be close to Lake Michigan and to be surrounded by the woods and f ields of northern Michigan. It is easy to promote recycling and the importance of preser ving our environ-ment when you can look out at the woods and water and know what you’re working to protect.

How do you stay energized to keep recycling moving for ward and pushing the boundar ies in a r ural community?

The work energizes me. I am fortunate to have an incredibly hard-working staff , a supportive Public Works board and they al l put up with my driving passion for the work. There’s always more to do. There’s always a better way. I ’m always looking ahead, str iving for the next improvement.

In what ways do you think your programs help the environ-ment beyond actual recycling?

Recycling is a ver y direct way people can truly make a difference in their daily l ives. I believe it’s the single most effective thing and it goes way beyond keeping stuff out of landfi l ls. Recycling conser ves resources, saves incredible amounts of energy, reduces the amount of carbon and other greenhouse gases going into the atmosphere, and creates jobs in our region.

Looking ahead, what are you big ideas/goals for recycling in our area?

Getting organics out of landfi l ls is a huge priority for solid waste managers across the nation because organics (al l paper waste, wood waste, and food waste) break down in landfi l ls and create methane, which is even more damaging in our atmosphere than carbon diox-ide. Developing food waste composting would be a next big step for us to make a difference in that area. We also can do much more to improve recycling convenience in our public spaces and at events in our communities. And we’re always working on developing new markets so we can accept more materials for recycling. I ’d also love to expand the current curbside recycling distr ict to include addi-tional townships.

Where to Recycle

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