Jacqueline Chambers
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Homemade Bolognese

11/12/2023

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Over the last year I've been working on my own bolognese recipe. The recipe below is my best version so far, but I'm looking forward to making further improvements. I think adding cinnamon and some hot red pepper flakes would be a great addition for next time!

Ingredients:
2 carrots
1 green pepper
Half box of mushrooms
1 onion
1.3 - 1.5 lbs ground beef (the lower fat the better)
​2 sausages 
3/4 cup tomato juice
1/4 teaspoon ground pepper
1 teaspoon thyme
1 bayleaf
1 can Hunt's tomato paste (6 ounces)
2 cans Hunt's tomoato sauce (15 ounces each)

Directions:
  1. Finely chop carrots, pepper, mushrooms, and onion.
  2. Sautee vegetables over medium low heat in olive oil for about ten mintues (or less depending on how quickly they are cooking and how finely they are chopped!).
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     3. Increae heat to medium-high. Add in the ground beef and sausage (remove its casing), and cook through until all meat is browned. 
        4. Pour in the tomato juice and stir until it evaporates, about 5 minutes.
        5. Stir in freshly ground pepper, thyme, and bayleaf.
        6. Add tomato paste and tomato sauce.
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       7. Turn the heat to low and let it simmer for at least two hours, stirring occasionally. The sauce will reduce a lot, and it will be a thick and delicious when ready to put on pasta!
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New Home

6/24/2023

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On most blogs and articles about buying a home, one of the 'pros' always listed under 'why it's a good idea to buy a house' is pride of ownership. Prior to our recent home purchase, I always thought that was a really weak point. Like, are there so few pros to home-owning that a deeply existential and philosophical point must be included to round out the list? Sure, getting to make something my own was very important. To build equity. To not worry about rent increases or when my landlord would decide it was time to sell and I was on the clock to find a new place. But how I'd feel about my home, deep on the inside? I never counted that among reasons to buy.

But now, sitting in our small living room that we actually own, I am moving pride of ownership to the very top of that 'pros' list. 

I'm looking forward to posting some before and afters. The process has been incredibly fun (and exhausting, and expensive), but I am proud (there's that word again) of the work we are doing together. Here is the first look at the kitchen before we moved in, and after. 

Before: The layout was nice but we didn't care for the backsplash, the outlet and recess light covers, or the hanging lights. We especially did not care for the stair runner, complete with a housewarming gift (read: cat hair).

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After: We were thrilled to give the kitchen a little bit more of our personality. We found gorgeous mosaic tiles for the backsplash that we absolutely loved. Murat worked his usual YouTube magic and taught himself how to tile in a day, using a tile-cutter and all. I found lovely blue mosaic drawer pulls on Etsy to replace the silver knobs. We also hired an electrician to update the switches from toggles to flat switches, and to replace all of of the electric outlets with new clean ones, then put white covers over the top. We also purchased new hanging lights. I loved these because I thought they paid a nice homage to a lighthouse, and being in Newburyport, if felt particularly perfect. The cabinets and walls were painted bright white for a fresh start, and it was fun deciding which of our items we could display on the shelves above.
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Avgolemono

9/24/2022

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I'd like to start storing and sharing the recipes I love to cook. I've hesitated to do this in fear of being 'just another recipe blogger,' but have come to realize that preventing myself from sharing something that is bringing me joy is beyond silly and beyond something I should be worried about. I also found out the hard way that bookmarked webpages don't always stay active, and when I lost my favorite quiche recipe it further solidified that I should record the recipes that become favorites. 
Avgolemono is my favorite soup. Perfect for a cozy day, it is delicious, warming, and so satisfying as a main meal. I used the recipe from the Mediterranean Dish as my baseline (whose recipes I find fantastic) and then edited it slightly to suit my own tastes:
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Ingredients (makes 8 servings - 
​just half everything for smaller portion!) :
  • Extra Virgin Olive Oil
  • ​1 ½ or 2 chopped carrots
  • ½ chopped white onion
  • 8 cups low-sodium chicken broth
  • 1 cup orzo
  • Salt, pepper, bay leaf flakes
  • 2 cooked shredded boneless
    chicken breasts (rotisserie works great)
  • 1 cup freshly-squeezed lemon juice (this gives it a really lemony
    flavor - if you’re not a lemon nut like me ¾ cup is fine)
  • 4 large eggs (five if the soup did not thicken enough
  • Fresh parsley for garnish
​Directions: 
  1. Heat tablespoon of olive oil in a large Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the carrots and onions and briefly sauté until the onions become translucent (about 5 minutes). 
  2. Add the chicken broth and seasoning and bay leaf flakes (or whole bay leaf if you are using - just be sure to take it out before serving!) and raise heat to high. Once the soup has come to a rolling boil, add the orzo, a little salt, and plenty of pepper. 
  3. Turn the heat to low and simmer for 20 minutes.
  4. While the soup is simmering, prepare the egg-lemon sauce:
    1. In a medium bowl, whisk together the lemon juice and eggs until foamy.
    2. While whisking, add 2 ladles-full of the broth from the cooking pot to help temper the eggs. Whisk constantly so the eggs don’t curdle. 
  5. Stir the cooked chicken into the soup. 
  6. Add the tempered egg-lemon sauce slowly to the chicken soup and stir.
  7. Garnish with fresh parsley. Enjoy!

When I served this as an appetizer for Greek Easter, I've never seen my family love something so unanimously!
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My Turkish Cryptonite

4/12/2022

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When I go to Turkey, there is one mezze I cannot pile high enough on my pita. Even better, Murat’s Auntie makes us a large container every time we come, so for the entirety of our trip we have some for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snack every day. The delectable dip is a mixture of walnuts, red peppers, and a variety of spices, and I had not tasted anything quite like it until Murat’s aunt sent over her secret sauce during my first visit.
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It’s called acuka (ah-joo-KAH) and is very similar to muhammara without the pomegranate syrup (at least the version I am familiar with). I had not realized how prevalent this mezze was throughout Arab nations and in Turkey and hadn’t come across them in the States. Or perhaps I did, and just nothing tasted like the homemade version that'd spoiled me.
As Murat and I neared the end of the homemade jar during my first visit, I mentioned that he should get the recipe from his Auntie. As is typical when on vacation, we forgot to ask before packing up and returning home. On the subsequent visits we were treated with the same gift each time, and I started to more aggressively remind Murat to get the recipe. I had to make this at home. I found the reason for Murat’s reluctance to share the recipe when he finally admitted, “Jacqueline, Teyze doesn’t give away her recipes.” Was it a joke? “But we’re family!” I protested. But her recipes are of such epically secret proportions that family or not, it didn’t matter.
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So, I determined that through trial and error, I would figure out how to make acuka myself. I searched many recipes online, and even found out that some call acuka ‘magic sauce’ – ya, it’s that good. A big reason why I may not have run into it so much here is because the main ingredient is pepper paste. While this might be found at Turkish specialty grocers, it’s not exactly easy to get in the US.
So my first task was to figure out how make the pepper paste. Without the paste, there would be no acuka. I combed the internet and watched YouTube tutorials, and realized that traditionally the pepper paste is sun dried in large saucer-like plates on rooftops. Not exactly a viable option for me. But like always, the internet pulled through.
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Using Auntie Saniye’s YouTube channel (at least one auntie was willing to share their secrets!) and the recipes found on A Simple Pantry's, Tanya Zouev’s and The Aegean Delight’s pages, I was able to learn the spices and techniques that go into making acuka. Our kitchen became a test kitchen and experimental acuka lab. Through multiple iterations and taste tests, I feel that we have an almost-authentic homemade Turkish mezze at our fingertips. It’s not quite Murat’s Auntie’s, but in some ways, that’s the fun of it. To keep tweaking the recipe slightly every time, adding notes to my Google Doc, and hoping that one day, it tastes just like Ferser Teyze’s.
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The Acuka Recipe:

Step 1 - Make Pepper Paste:
  1.  Set oven to broil. Place rack within the top-third of the oven.
  2. Place a thin layer of oil on a sheet pan and lay four - five red bell peppers on pan. Broil 5-7 minutes per side, until blackened. Remove from oven and place in a large bowl. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and allow to cool completely, around 1 hour.
  3. Using gloves, peel the skin and remove the seeds from each pepper. Keep the skin and seeds in the first bowl, and put the pepper flesh in a second bowl. Place a sieve over the second bowl and slowly add the peeled skins, seeds, and any water from the bottom of the first bowl into the second. You are straining the liquids into the bowl with the flesh until none remains. Discard remaining solids from the sieve.
  4. Blend pepper flesh and liquids in a food processor and puree until smooth.
  5. Add mixture to a pot and cook over low heat, stirring every 20-30 minutes, until reduced by half, about 2 hours !)
  6. Once paste is complete, add to a jar and top with a generous helping of olive oil.
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Step 2 - Make Acuka:
 Ingredients:
  • ¾ cup pepper paste
  • ½ cup walnuts and a little extra
  • Splash EVOO
  • Spices:
    • 1 teaspoon ground cumin (or 2 teaspoons of cumin seeds)
    • 1 teaspoon dried oregano
    • 1 teaspoon dried chili flakes → do ½ teaspoon if serving to tastes that dislike spice
    • ½ teaspoon ground black pepper
    • 1 teaspoon coriander seeds
    • 1 teaspoon thyme
 
Directions:
  1. Chop walnuts in food processor.
  2. Mix spices in mortar and pestle until blended and crushed.
  3. Combine pepper paste, walnuts, and spice mixture in bowl. Mix until fully smooth and incorporated. Add EVOO during mixing until you reach smooth consistency. 
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A Comedy of Errors

7/22/2020

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Every year, the Babson Players alumni group puts on a summer production at Babson College. The show takes place on campus, and since I have not lived near Boston since graduating, I have never been able to participate.

As COVID turned life into virtual reality, and our lives became anchored over a computer screen, so did this year's alumni production. An unexpected positive outcome of the virus was that, with no in person rehearsals possible, the Players were pushing forward with their summer show but doing so over Zoom. To my utter delight, I am thrilled to say that for the first time in ten years, I am acting with the Babson Players again as Dromio of Syracuse in The Comedy of Errors. 
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The Players were and are a group that brought me the most joy and the happiest memories during my time in college. Who I became was greatly shaped by that 'club,' which was so much more than that. I distinctly remember that after a long day, knowing a rehearsal would be at the end of it energized me and made me feel like I had somewhere I really belonged. Being on stage felt comfortable, and the people I was surrounded by were kind, fun, and like minded. 

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I was determined to continue my stage pursuit, both during college and after, and moved to New York to carve out a career for myself in theatre. I loved performing and felt compelled to make acting a full time career, but after a few years I began to feel the exhaustion of rejection, and the burnout of taking jobs I didn't really believe in to earn more money and another credit on my resume. Deciding to leave acting made me feel like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, and I felt fulfilled in other pursuits and creative career choices. ​
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What I wasn't able to realize until now was that just because I moved away from a professional theatre career didn't mean I had to stop doing the thing that gave me the most joy. I could have let go of the hustle, but I didn't' have to walk away from the happiness I felt in channeling different emotions, playing new characters, and (let's be honest) being a general ham. This show has allowed me to let go of any need to 'prove myself' as an artist, and it has brought the fun of theatre back into my life. 

When this show is over (view it here on July 31 - please tune in!), I'm going to continue to look for other community theatre opportunities, virtually and, once we can start coming together again, in real life. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to figure out that I could leave the stress and keep the fun, but now that I see that I'm not turning back. A family friend of ours (who, incidentally, has had an excellent career in entertainment) once said, "the only bad theatre is no theatre." Time to take that advice for myself. 

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Human Feelings

7/6/2020

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​I gave myself too much leeway the last nine months. I became so wrapped up in minute by minute minutia I lost focus. Perhaps it was the rush of last year post wedding. We experienced a fairytale and returned to New York to a whirlwind of speeding time that consisted of business trips, immigration interviews, a new job, and an apartment and borough move. Time was rushing, racing, flying, and then the world came to a screeching halt on March 13 and all the balls I was juggling remained suspended in the air, and I slowly raised my head to examine them.
 
Then three months of quarantine passed, and there was no excuse not to write. But though the three months stretched, they also flew, and days turned into weeks and no thoughts made their way out of my head and onto paper. Time stood still and there was nowhere to go, but the writing muscles became atrophied and the motivation faded.
 
“Regular life” started to pick back up and before I knew it, it was July 3rd. Hamilton came out on Disney Plus and I streamed it along with millions of others. The music spoke to me through its genius, poignancy, humor, and truth. One song’s chorus chanted “Why do you write like you’re running out of time?” And I was jolted awake. We are all running out of time, each minute, each day. Why have I let this strange time in history push me to sleep?
 
So I thought, what should I write about? I took the first step and recognized I have no time, I’ve got to write again - but I doubted I had anything valid to share.
 
But I do, if I continue to notice the small things.
 
Murat and I wanted to take a walk in Brooklyn yesterday, and being new to the neighborhood and the borough I Googled where to go. I found the Brooklyn Heights Promenade and thousands of users had shared their reviews touting the loveliness of the park.  One review stopped me in my tracks and stayed with me all day. They wrote, “It remind me holding my woman,s hand making me feel so important.” The purity of this statement made me cry. My heart swelled thinking about this person, and the feelings this place stirred in them.
 
Murat and I stepped out into the 90 degree heat and began walking the promenade. We found stunning views and a walk we had no idea existed so close to our new neighborhood. As we turned around and began to head back, I took Murat’s hand. He gave me an audible, ‘aww’ and a firm squeeze. I too, felt important, and I think so did he. My tears flickered again, with the human privilege of feeling important and reciprocating that feeling to someone I love. 

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Countdown to Crete

8/20/2019

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My wedding website says that I have 31 days until the big day. I’ve never particularly liked countdowns.  They make me feel as though I am ticking my life away, making me forget that it’s not just the milestones in life that matter, but the moments in between.  I dislike putting so much weight onto one day, event, or holiday.  Countdowns make them so exceptionally fleeting, they become immediately replaced with nostalgia and a framed photograph or Facebook memory. 
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Bridal Shower at the Colony Hotel in Kennebunkport, Maine.
Because of this, as excited as I am for the wedding, I’m also dreading it.  I don’t want it to be over.  I look back at the bridal shower my mom threw me in June and it feels like it didn’t really even happen.  An amazingly happy day that lasted several hours and felt like a minute. Tears, hugs, laughter, reunions ripped away as quickly as the 
wrapping paper that covered the gifts, now just a memory of a wonderful day. There is no reason why the wedding shouldn’t feel like this multiplied tenfold, and much of me is consumed by wanting to say “SLOW DOWN, I’m not ready for the planning and anticipation to be over!”  But time is never listening.
 
Philosophizing aside, I am beyond excited.  Seeing all the plans, the Pinterest boards, the screenshots, the dog eared pages of magazines coming to life is the stuff of little girls’ dreams.  And I’m blessed that I’ve been indulged by my partner and my parents to have my dream wedding on the island of Crete.  It is not the easiest place for guests to get to, its distance meant my parents could not join me for walk throughs with wedding coordinators, and compromises have been made to allow for cultural differences and logistical necessities.  But even from afar, there has been a lot of joy in planning, and I hope everyone feels just as indulged as I in 31 days’ time.   
At least one thing we don’t have to worry about is getting the paperwork together to have a legal marriage while abroad.  Murat and I officially married soon after he entered the United States to comply with immigration procedures.  We did so happily and 
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Waiting to be called at City Hall.
had a special day, but being called by a number at City Hall like you are at a deli waiting for a pound of ham wasn’t the ‘wedding’ we’d always dreamed of, and it was important to us to have our family and friends celebrate in our union and love.
 
I keep picturing September 21st over and over in my head, though I hope to let most expectations go on the big day and just celebrate and enjoy whatever unexpected or crazy thing happens.  If DJ Nikos misses a few ‘must-plays,’ or the flowers don’t turn out Pinterest perfect, or the meltems in Crete is so strong my hair comes undone and tangled, it won’t matter.  I’m ready to soak in the fact that Murat and I put up with years of long distance, and that in turn, my family and friends are willing to travel long distance to rejoice in our long-awaited wedding.
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Spinalonga Island of Elounda, Crete. Clear water that is a siren's call for a swim.
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Wonder of Wonders, Miracle of Miracles

7/1/2019

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​A Fidler Afn Dakh.  The latest New York revival of A Fiddler on the Roof features the 3-hour performance entirely in Yiddish.  But don’t succumb to the possible knee jerk reaction of “huh?” or “how could I watch a three hour show in a language I don’t understand?” This Fiddler is sheer brilliance.  It is packed with joy, heartache, poignancy, and emotion all of which are heightened, not diminished, by Yiddish translation.  
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For me, Fiddler on the Roof is the rare piece of art that evokes nostalgia without schmaltz, and somehow incites a myriad of emotions every time you see it.  This production, even more so than others, stung my eyes with tears and caught in my throat the moment the company stepped onstage singing “Tradition” (or “Traditsye”).   The emotion, which is always there in the show, was brought to new levels of realness, feeling, and understanding in this particular revival.   
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​My tears hardly stopped during the entirety of the production.  Whether out of laughter due to a babbling matchmaker, sentimentality as the company sang “Sunrise, Sunset,” heartache for a community grappling with religious persecution, or even just the sheer sweetness of a poor tailor finally saving enough money to get a sewing machine, my cheeks were rarely dry.
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The set, while minimal, was stunning, as though parchments of the Torah hung around each corner of the stage, a constant reminder of the characters’ faith, and the solid foundation on which they built their lives.  Subtitles were extremely well done and unobtrusive, on each side panel of the stage. 
 
It naturally makes sense to tell the story of A Fiddler on the Roof right now. The history should never be forgotten, but we are sadly seeing it repeated day after day through religious persecution, uprooting of families, and fear and bigotry of “the other” all over the world, and close to home.  A Fiddler on the Roof shows us just how similar we all are, as a family that could easily be my own or my neighbor grapples with tales as old as time -  letting go of the past, embracing the future, and making sense and balance of the two.  Last week, there were points when I didn’t even feel like I was watching a show.  The performance solely in Yiddish made me feel as though I was peering into a window, observing a day in the life of a regular family bound to a tragic fate.  Rejoicing at their triumphs, laughing at their jokes, and desperately wanting to protect them from the tragedies and anti-Semitism they were forced to endure.
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A Fidler Afn Dakh was one of the best productions I’ve seen in a very long time.  The show’s three hours moves at a remarkably brisk pace, is bursting with musical theatre greats in acting, voice, and dance, and reminds us of where we’ve come from, and the journeys that still lie ahead.

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Unexpected Newlywed Battles

6/12/2019

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​When do you finally concede defeat, walk away, or as the English say, “give it up as a bad job?”  Murat and I are at a breaking point over something that we thought should be exceedingly simple. 

We have encountered over six months of thwarted attempts to add Murat, my husband, to my bank account.  As we are married and live together, it is hard to imagine something like this would be difficult. 

When Murat arrived in the US, we wanted to add his name to my bank account, so he would have access to our funds and his own debit card in the US.  I’m sure you are thinking, “well, that does not seem like an unusual or odd request.”  However, the series of unfortunate events below is instead what our young, foolhardy selves have been subjected to, the bureaucratic process and red tape mountains aging us beyond our years…
  1. December, 2018: I go Chase as a mere exploratory excursion, to find out what would be needed from Murat and myself to add him to my account.  ‘Quite easily done,’ a man told me.  Your fiancé (as Murat was at the time) just needs to bring in his passport.

  2. December, 2018: Murat and I return to Chase the next day, armed with a passport and an eagerness to make this momentous step in our relationship.  The banker helping us, stops.  "A passport is not enough to add someone to your bank account.  They also need proof of residence."  We have none yet, so we get to work on adding Murat to everything we share together – lease, bills, return address labels, joint custody of a stuffed animal named Harry, etc.

  3. January, 2019: We visit Chase after our marriage at City Hall.  We now have proof of residence through the marriage certificate and have added Murat to the lease.  Bouncing in as a newlywed couple, with fool-proof paperwork in hand, we think - "now is the moment.  Murat will walk out with a new bank account!" But, what?  A marriage license and lease are not good enough proofs of residence?  I repeat - A MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE AND LEASE ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH FORMS FOR PROOF OF RESIDENCE.  Defeated and frustrated, we robotically ask what would be appropriate forms of proof.  A cable bill, electric bill, or a statement from another bank addressed to Murat at our new home would do the trick.

  4. March, 2019: Murat gets a letter from his UK bank to our NYC address.  As we have not yet had luck adding him to our utilities accounts (another story for another day), we take the UK bank letter to Chase.  But as we sit with the Banker, our dreams are again dashed.  It is not enough that the bank sent a letter to Murat. They needed to send him a statement, with his funds and transactions listed.  Is this a bad joke we are not in on?

  5. April, 2019: After months of back and forth with Con Edison, we receive a letter that states Murat is now added on to the account.  It has his name, our address, the name of the electric company.  But now, I am not so naïve.  I will not be the doe-eyed little girl any longer!  I am on to wily ways of Chase!  So before I drag Murat to Chase for a fifth time, I first go in with the letter on my way home from work.  I show the Banker.  I tell her I am tired of being turned away, and want to know, will this work?  She says yes…

  6. April, 2019: The next day, we return to Chase with the Con Edison paperwork.  We are sitting the comfortable armchairs of the Banker’s office, ready to walk out victorious.  The Banker, the same one who had just yesterday approved the document, takes the letter to her colleague to ask a question.  When she returns, I restrained myself from clawing at her.  “Unfortunately this is not a bill, it’s only a letter saying that Murat is now on your electric account.  We need a bill.”  Writhing and kicking, Murat pulls me out of Chase before I start turning over computers.

  7. June 11, 2019: We are weary, battle-wounded, and broken.  Nevertheless, we persist, and arrive at Chase with
    1. Passports
    2. Bills from Spectrum
    3. Bills from Con Edison
    4. Murat’s Employment Authorization card
    5. Murat’s Social Security card
    6. An accordion file filled with anything else we feel they might possibly ask us for, just in case.
We are doing it.  Murat is asked to create a username and password for online banking.  He is asked to create a PIN number.  He is asked for confirmation of address to send his new debit card.  We. Are. Doing. It.

And then…the Banker looks concerned.  She asked Murat to input his information again, since the computer froze.  He does, and she gives us the same pitiful look as just a moment ago.  A fellow Banker comes over and asks ours if “she’s also having problems with the system.  It seems like it’s down.”  Our Banker asks us to wait while she tries to sort out what’s happening.  When she returns, she hands Murat a water bottle for his troubles.  He looks at her puzzled, and she informs him that she is “so sorry, but the systems have just gone down, and we can’t complete the steps needed to have him join my account.” 
 
Do we cry?  No.  Although our stomachs churn and our hearts sink, we are not that surprised.  We laugh in the face of adversity and look forward to using a new water bottle!  Ahhh, the spoils of war.
 
Perhaps the Banker recognizes the deadness behind our eyes, and sees remnants of a once young, care-free couple.  She offers to make an appointment with her for two days later, and assures us that upon return, she will help us complete the mission we set on so very long ago.
 
We will return.  We will not give up.  But I’m becoming slightly worried and convinced that there is a higher power doing whatever it can to stop us from completing this task.  I can’t help but wonder, should we listen to the signs? 
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Taking Advantage of NYC

5/10/2019

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​High rent, high transport fees, high grocery bills, and way too highly priced cocktails are what you expect and undoubtedly encounter in the city that never sleeps.  But despite the ever-climbing prices and cost of living, there is something the city offers often for free if you actively seek it out, and that’s culture!
 
Last weekend we went to the Lincoln Center Campus for an amazing day of free performances.  Lincoln Center hosted a ‘block party’ to celebrate their the 60th Anniversary; it was fabulous.  
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It made for such a lovely weekend activity and at no cost (I really mean no cost, we even resisted the gelato stand!). From the morning to the afternoon we enjoyed multiple groups and solo artists who were stunningly talented and beautifully engaged with the diverse audience, which ranged from young to old, families to singletons.
From opera, to a 30-piece band, to a wind quartet were some of what we got to enjoy and engage with on a rainy Saturday.  It was perfect.

Even some of the pricier Broadway shows can be seen for a lot less if you’re willing to explore the different ways of getting tickets.  There are so many programs available if you take the time to do a little digging.  I recently got to enjoy the some of the best dancing I’ve ever seen in a musical theatre production.  
Kiss Me, Kate at the Roundabout was absolutely fantastic!  I truly could have watched the second act opening number of ‘Too, Darn Hot’ over and over – the precision, athletiscm, and stamina of the dancers were jaw-droppingly incredible.  At the climax of the number, everyone around us seemed to be buzzing with the same energy that was coming from the stage.
 
As much as I wanted to see Kiss Me, Kate, I was skeptical that I’d get the chance.  Broadway shows are notoriously expensive, and it would be quite a sacrifice to buy two full priced Broadway tickets. 
 
I poked around Roundabout’s website and found the “Hip Tix” membership page.  It was the perfect program – totally free to join, and if you’re between 18 and 35, you can get two tickets for $25 each, no matter the age of your ticket companion!  There seemed like there had to be some kind of catch, and I was waiting to be denied my tickets at Will Call due to missing one part of the fine print.  But as I approached the Box Office window, I was greeted by a smiling worker who graciously handed me  our tickets. 
​(Make sure to put the Closed Captioning on to see what I said!)
​(Make sure to put the Closed Captioning on to see what I said!)
I’m learning that the trick is to not be frustrated by the high prices, but to explore what a city full of culture and enjoyable activities has to offer.  If you can’t beat the system, join it!
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    Jacqueline

    Reflecting on my experiences with the world, my neighborhood, and my home. 

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