Amarycana

Like most national holidays, the Fourth of July isn't restricted to a day anymore. It takes up a week and in my neighborhood characterizes much of the month. Little red, white and blue flags line the streets, barbecue wafts from yard to yard, and just about every night you can hear a straggling firework explode.

It's the new New Year's - the holiday where people feel obligated to outdo last year's party; find the better Fireworks display, eat one more hot dog, drink one more Bud, make the memories last a little longer, then post photos that demonstrate an undying commitment to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

While in years past we could have staked our claim at beating out the Joneses when it came to Independence Day regalia, this year we downplayed our celebration. Basically, we went to the zoo and grilled burgers. I wish I could elaborate on Mary's first Fourth or at least tell you a baby's first fireworks story, but Mom and daughter were in bed by 9:00. Honestly, the only photos to commemorate our day were of wildlife.

The thing is, had Peter turned the camera the other way and instead captured the walkways snaking through the Brookfield Zoo, he would have captured a more honest portrait of Americana - an image that likely would have shocked Dick, Jane, and all the Mayberry-like Moms of my town - a census of the nation's population defined in two terms: diverse and fat.

It got me thinking about being American. A descriptor that characterizes such a variety of people and a notion that continues to change through the years. 50, 60 years ago, the crowds gathered at the Brookfield Zoo would have looked a lot different. Today, Mary will grow up with an understanding of being born and raised on U.S. soil that greatly differs from mine, just as mine differed from the generations before me. What I experienced in the past 30 years will be history lessons for Mary. Meghan won't just be your cousin; she'll be a national hero. The make-up of classrooms might make Mary a minority. She'll likely text to vote. And I'm hoping she'll finally see the day when all parties in this great nation are treated equally.

But what remains consistent is that being American means freedom and opportunity. That being a little patriot means Mary can do and be whatever she wants to - that no one can hold her back.

That everyday is a celebration of culture, tradition, and of course, food that melt into one nationality.

And above all, that genuine happiness is out there if you look in the right places.

Our celebration of America this month was merely a continued commemoration of our pursuit of happiness fulfilled - Mary. And the joy she brings to our lives everyday.

Lo.


Grilled Ratatouille 
Adapted from Bon Appetit 
Serves four

Ingredients:
Eggplant, cut into one inch slices 
Zucchini, sliced thickly
Summer squash, sliced thickly
Red bell pepper
2 plum tomatoes
5 bunches scallions
2-3 Tablespoons olive oil
1 Tablespoon white wine vinegar
Salt, pepper
Fresh tarragon

Directions:
Heat charcoal grill. Toss vegetables in 1-2 tablespoons olive oil and salt. Grill until just starting to char around the edges. Tomatoes will take the longest, so I would put them on first. The scallions only take about a minute, so they should be last. Remove everything. In a blender, puree the tomatoes with the rest of the olive oil, vinegar, salt and pepper. Chop up all vegetables into 1/2 inch pieces - bite size, letting juices escape but reserving all of them. Toss vegetables in bowl and pour tomato vinaigrette over them. Top with fresh tarragon and serve.