The MSU Tragedy Reminds Us That We Are Surrounded By Time
Last year, Tom Jones produced an album called Surrounded By Time. It ranged from covers of classic songs, like Windmills of Your Mind, up to brand new songs written specifically for him.
Tom, to whom I have a slight connection* said that at age 80, he feels surrounded by time — enveloped in memories of the past while staying connected to today’s music and young musicians.
I felt a similar way due to several things that happened last week. (There is not as much food content in this newsletter as I usually include, so if you’d prefer to click away than read on, I’ll understand.)
The shootings at Michigan State University shook many people. Three families were left grieving the loss of promising students. Five more students are recovering from their injuries. Students and staff at MSU have to grapple with crime scenes on the picturesque campus. And we MSU alumni have had our memories of our school years shattered.
I summed up some of my feelings in this column for the Washington Post, which received a gratifying response. But I wanted to add a few more thoughts.
In 2014, I was named a Distinguished Alumni of MSU, and was also honored by the College of Arts and Letters. There was a lovely ceremony and a video about me that included friends like NPR’s Don Gonyea.
When I’m on campus, I look first at the places most familiar to me. One of them was Berkey Hall, where two of the students died. I took some of my favorite classes in Berkey, including Constitutional History, a class in the French Second empire, and a course in Modern American Literature that introduced me to Fitzgerald, Hemingway and Wolfe.
Near Berkey, however, is a symbol of the university’s highest profile donor. The Eli and Edythe Broad Museum of Art recently celebrated its 10th anniversary. The Broad (pronounced brohd) is a dynamic building designed by the late architect Saha Hadid, who died far too young. Some people love the design, including me. Others think it clashes with the stately appearance of Berkey and the MSU Union, where one other student died in Monday’s shootings.
A vast campus
But MSU has room for all kinds of architecture. Berkey and the Broad aet museum are part of a campus that covers 5,000 acres and is home to 50,000 students. Farther to the south from Berkey and the Union are dozens of buildings that have sprung up since I was a student. It always surprises me just how huge MSU has gotten. And yet, it found itself in the center of a community of goodwill last week.
I was so touched by the commemorations on the University of Michigan campus. They are arch rivals in sports, and yet so many students at each went to school together and could easily have gone to the other school. Michigan painted its rock to honor MSU, held a ceremony on the Diag attended by thousands of students, and lit Burton Tower overlooking campus in green and white. Santa Ono, the university’s new president, repeatedly posted in support of MSU and of his own students, who were also shaken by the attacks.
I keep tearing up thinking about the students killed and injured. They could have been us. Or our children, or young people that we academics taught. I feel badly about any senseless gun deaths, but these literally make no sense. Forever, MSU’s pretty campus will now be remembered as a crime scene, just like the University of Texas and countless schools across the country.
Rather than encourage you to take out a paid subscription this week, I’d appreciate it if you would consider supporting one of the accounts set up to help the students. I donated to a GoFundMe for Lupe Huapillla-Perez, and you can find more information here. Thanks for whatever you feel like contributing.
* My connection to Tom Jones, besides admiration, is that we are both ambassadors for VocalZone, the English brand of throat lozenges and soothing throat teas. I use a VocalZone lozenge before every speaking engagement. They tasted dreadful, but they clear out your voice.
Farewell To An Automotive Legend
Last week, the global auto industry lost a historic figure who I got to meet when I was Detroit bureau chief for the New York Times. Shoichiro Toyoda, the auto company’s honorary chairman, died in Tokyo at age 97. Let me put him in context for you.
Shoichiro-san’s father Kiichiro founded the Toyota Motor Company. His father, Sakichi Toyoda, launched the Toyota Automatic Loom Works, of which the car company was a spin off. So, in historic terms, Shoichiro-san was the equivalent of Edsel Ford, the son of Henry Ford. His son, Akio Toyoda, is stepping aside soon as CEO at Toyota, after running it for 15 years.
I met Shoichiro-san once, when he was inducted in the Automotive Hall of Fame in 2007. Since I knew the Toyoda family’s legacy, I asked Toyota staff if I could meet him when he visited Detroit. Yes, they said, but don’t consider it an interview, and you are not to ask him any questions.
I showed up at the event, and was motioned over to where Shoichiro-san was greeting people. (Think about those lineups that you have seen to meet members of the British Royal Family, and it was something like that.) When it was my turn, I presented my business card, said, “How do you do” in Japanese and told him my name.
His face lit up with a big smile, and he started talking. And talking and talking. I lost any inhibition the staff might have drilled into me. I asked him questions, he asked me questions, and it was a quality conversation. Eventually he was ushered away, and a Toyota staffer came back to rebuke me for asking questions. “He was the one talking,” I shrugged. “I was not about to stop him.”
For New Year’s Day that year, I wrote Shoichiro-san a note on stationery embossed with a chrysanthemum, Japan’s national flower. That spring, I was set to visit Toyota in Japan, and I asked if I could pay my respects while I was there. Toyota dawdled on responding, and on the eve of my trip, I was told he did not have time. Instead, I would be seeing Akio Toyoda.
Father and son
At that time, Akio’s elevation to CEO was only rumored. (If you’re wondering why I don’t use the honorific “san” with him, we are closer in age and he’s a relaxed person.) I was the first formal interview he had granted amid the speculation that he was going to be appointed. It was a great interview, conducted almost completely in English, and Akio gave me some anecdotes about his dad.
In Japan, you go home to your family village over New Year’s, in a holiday called oshogatsu. You spend time with your relatives and pay respect to your ancestors by visiting a shrine. On New Year’s morning that year, Akio came down to the kitchen, in his sweats, hoping for coffee before the day’s activities began. His father was already sitting at the table, dressed in a formal business suit. Holiday or not, he wasn’t someone who could easily chill out.
Akio, who went to school in Boston and later worked in New York, told me that his dad never pushed him into joining the family car company. But if he decided he wanted to join it, his father told him he had to learn every aspect of it, and to be the best employee he could be. “Nobody wants to be your boss,” Shoichiro-san said to his son.
I’m grateful I got to meet him, and send my sympathies to the Toyoda family and Toyota.
A Familiar Boston Name Is Returning
If you dined in Boston from 1990 forward, you should be familiar with chef Lydia Shire. In the 1990s, at a time when there were few women restaurant chefs, she ran Biba, a lovely restaurant that overlooked Boston Garden.
She was one of the first chefs to let diners assemble their own types of meals. Instead of appetizers, mains and desserts, her menu was presented as grains, vegetables and proteins, with meats and fish. She was an early winner of the James Beard Award.
Most recently, Lydia has been running Scampo in the Liberty Hotel. Next year she will open a new restaurant in the Seaport Science Center. At a time when many chefs of her generation are relaxing, or are no longer with us, Lydia is aiming to be innovative and keep stretching her wings. I’m sure her longtime mentor, Jasper White, is rooting her on.
Mardi Gras Food In The Spotlight
Last week, I wrote a lengthy piece for The Takeout on many of the places here that are offering food and drink tailored to Mardi Gras parties and parade going. (Apologies to those I couldn’t fit in!)
I have been attending a set of parties at the home of a friend who lives a block from the Uptown parade route. Our hosts set out a vast spread of classic food like red beans and rice and gumbo, while guests contribute dessert.
I brought a chocolate babka King Cake from Ayu Bakehouse, which is among my favorite bakeries. Babka isn’t as ubiquitous in New Orleans as it is up north, in fact, it’s kind of an exotic treat.
When I took a break from parade watching, I found that every scrap of that King Cake had disappeared. It’s the highest compliment people here can pay to a baker.
Keeping Up With CulinaryWoman
I’m reachable at culinarywoman at gmail dot com. Find me on Instagram on my main account, at michelinemaynard, and my New Orleans adventures are at micki_in_nola.
Remember that I’m happy to send a signed bookplate to anyone who has purchased a copy of Satisfaction Guaranteed: How Zingerman’s Built A Corner Deli Into A Global Food Community. My book turns one year old on Wednesday and I will have some book news to share.
Please stay well. Pace yourself if you’re celebrating Deep Gras (these final days of parades). I hope everyone back home will enjoy a paczki or two, and that the Shrove Tuesday pancakes will be delicious in the U.K.
I’ll see our paid subscribers tomorrow and through the week, and everyone else next Sunday. Happy Mardi Gras!
Thank you for the human ness of your newsletter. My state (NC) is passing legislation to allow and promote more guns in public places like churches, sports arenas, schools, etc. I hope MI does the opposite.