Hilary (Pinky) Rose

My mom was a horrible cook. But she could make a world class Bloody Mary and an awesome salad .

She was different from other moms. She wasn’t involved in my comings and goings. She was an artist. She wore blue jeans before it was cool. One evening she announced that she had been taking belly dancing lessons for months--“with show girls”. Though I wanted her to be more like my friends’ moms, I was proud of her, too. She definitely leaned Bohemian.

She set the tone for our family life. Growing up, we were an-everyone-do- your-own-thing kind of family. Except when it came to dinner. It was family dinner every night (thanks to Dennie, our live in cook and housekeeper).

Dinner was served with lively conversation--often about the length of my brother’s hair--and these salad tongs.

I love these tongs. They’re a perfect size, and I’m drawn to their mid-century design. But they’re so much more to me.

Memories of our poodle Gus sitting on Mom’s lap at dinner. A meat loaf cake with Happy Birthday Gus in ketchup. Dad beginning each meal saying that he wanted a divorce--an announcement that we all ignored. My brother Chris complaining about my hair curlers ruining his appetite, or teasing me about my latest crush. My unconventional little family coming together.

Years later, after Dad passed, Mom moved to a condo nearby. She still made her Bloody Marys (though sometimes she’d forget the vodka). She still painted, wore jeans, and made a killer salad which she served with these salad tongs.

And though I make a good salad, it doesn’t come close to the family salads of my memory.

On the other hand, I have mastered the Bloody Mary!