CarolJoynt.com

Happy Father's Day (photos)

COL. RICHARD H. ROSS, THE PILOT, IN THE MIDDLE, BEFORE A MISSION, WWII

CIRCA 1985: IN THE BACK, DAVID ROSS, HOWARD JOYNT, ROBERT ROSS. IN THE FRONT, OLGA ROSS, CAROL ROSS JOYNT, RICHARD ROSS

SPENCER WITH GRANDPA ROSS, 1998

J. HOWARD JOYNT III WITH SPENCER, AT HOME ON THE BAY

PRECIOUS TIME TOGETHER, 1992

FUN TIME AT BREAKFAST, 92

MY NEPHEWS CAMERON KUMAR, LEFT, AND ZAL KUMAR, RIGHT, WITH THEIR DAD, VIJAY KUMAR, ALSO MY BROTHER IN LAW, 2013

MY BROTHER DAVID, A DAD, WITH HIS NEPHEW, A TEENAGED SPENCER

Wishing all dads a happy day. 

DC VALENTINE'S MYSTERY: Who Taped The Hearts on Store Windows?

Brian Noyes brought this to my attention on Facebook, where he sent this photo and wrote, "Valentine Mystery: Who taped a heart on nearly every shop window in Georgetown?" I don't know but the first one I noticed was on Georgetown Cupcake. I hope it's not something boring or agenda-driven, but just a little love, because romance and mystery go well together.

Fresh From Iran, and Fun At Bandolero

This is how I distracted myself during the tense moments of the Redskins-Bears game. I nibbled on incredible pistachios that arrived fresh from Iran, courtesy of my neighbor Roz. Rather than being salted during or after cooking, they are marinated in salt before the cooking process. It makes such a difference - a subtler salt taste, and almost sweet.

Roz's lost her father the night of the durecho, when his home and car were hit by falling trees and burning power lines. He ran out of his house to try to figure it out and, stepping in a pool of water, got electrified. Roz's mother also ran out of the house and, seeing the peril her husband was in, tried to pull him away from danger. She got third degree burns.

Roz returned to Teheran this week for a memorial service for her father. At the same time as the service in Teheran, there was also one in Washington. I'd see her father from time to time, coming to visit his daughter and grandsons, but unfortunately I never met him. I did visit her mother at the Washington Hospital Center, where she endured many skin graft surgeries. But the good news is she's now recovering at home. 

Roz flew back to DC with so many native delicacies: a variety of dates, salt marinated pistachios (see photo above) and, as I hoped, caviar. Caviar is cheap in Iran for nationals, and so Roz loaded up. However, she had Lufthanza keep the tins in their onboard fridge and there they stayed. Roz reported the missing caviar and hopes it will return, but if not, so be it. Neither one of us lives for the stuff, but we will stop what we're doing, whatever we're dong, to pay respect to its excellence...now unaffordable in the West unless you are a lottery winner. For caviar lovers, Iranian caviar is king and queen.

Interesting to hear Roz talk about her homeland after living in the U.S. for more than a decade. It's not her Iran anymore, but it is her blood, and that makes it emotionally charged. She's married now and raising children here in the US. She's a doctor and a lawyer.

 On the way to Teheran, through Paris, the flight had a wreck with another airliner, on the ground, producing an afternoon of red tape that detained Roz for hours, making the trek from DC to Teheran take 30 hours.

Advice: you never know. So, love the one you're with and love them well.

ON TO BANDOLERO

SAM HARRINGTON, AKA "DR SAM" AND CJ AT BANDOLERO

Tonight I met my friends Sam Harrington and Debbie Weil @bandolerodc for pitchers of margaritas and the food to go with them. Fun. Total fun. I can't believe they went on to a movie. (I wouldda needed toothpicks for my eyelids). I came home to watch the Redskins game, and the Nats, which while not altogether satisying has been interesting and a lesson. For the 'Skins, a necessary tutorial and perfect for the preseason. For the Nats, a minor set back.

DEBBIE WEIL, AKA "MRS SAM"

Debbie had the Bandolero Margarita, made with blood orange juice, which she loved. We also got a pitcher of Classic Margaritas, which Sam and I enjoyed. The food was very good, as usual. We sat upstairs next to the window with a good view of M Street. I also like the downstairs window tables, though on a busy day it can crowded anywhere near the front door and bar. Clearly this place is a Georgetown hit, which is sweet.

The Joys of a Small Wedding

It was with great interest that I read the piece in the Times yesterday about a couple who opted for a small, do-it-yourself wedding. I wondered when this day would come, and I hope it's the beginning of a trend. Every time I read or hear about a contemporary lollapalooza-style wedding, I feel for the parents, the groom and the bride. It has become a bloated, vicious industry, taking almost all the romance out of the sweet and simple ritual of nuptials. (Gaining on weddings is the trend of "staging" houses that are for sale; another predatory industry).

My own wedding was small and my husband and I wouldn't have had it any other way. Keeping it small made it possible for us to do it ourselves, our way, and that was one of the many joys of getting married. I know, I'm from the generation that eschewed anything that felt out of the Eisenhower years -- grand, big, formal -- preferring instead to be lowkey, casual, intimate. How many baby boomers got married in bare feet, I wonder? Lots. For some time now, we've been deeply back in the Eisenhower ethic (nothing to do with the man, only the era) and gosh I hope that's almost over. I'd love to see flea markets piled with stilettos, hair extensions, vagina jewels and what not. People, let's get real.

My husband I married at our 200-year-old stone and stucco farm house in Upperville, Va. We set the date for May 10th, because it was the same day we met, making our wedding day a Monday. We did all the flowers ourselves, we organized the food with a local caterer, who worked out of her own home kitchen. A concession to grandeur was very good Champagne and very good food. The guest list was small: family and a couple dozen friends. We did have "witnesses," our friends Patrick O'Connell and Rinehardt Lynch, who owned our favorite restaurant, The Inn at Little Washington (not yet a hotel). We had our pre-nuptial dinner there, and it was only family. In other words, small.

A Justice of the Peace married us in the living room at 5-ish. I forget exactly, except I know I followed the rule of the big hand either sweeping up or down the clock. My father walked me from the entrance hall into the living room. My wedding ring was a little gold link ring made by Elsa Peretti. It had one small diamond. (It also later got stolen ... so.)

I did wear a very lovely and traditional wedding dress, designed by Gina Fratini. But I bought it out of the window at Harrod's department store in London. No planning, no fittings, no hoopla. We saw the dress in the window, went in an inquired, and bought it. I knew it was the *dress in which I wanted to get married, even though the wedding would still be a long way off. My wedding slippers were the same white Capezio jazz sneakers I wore the night I met Howard at a private after hours party at Clyde's. He scuffed them and that got my attention. They were sentimental shoes. Besides, I wasn't going to get married in a farm house in a pair of Manolo Blahnik's.

After the wedding ceremony we drank Champagne, ate good food, and delicious cake from the Watergate Pastry Shop (classic pound cake with white fondant).( We saved the top tier for our first anniversary.) The bakery was next door to the salon where I got my hair done earlier that day, by George Ozturk, who now owns George at The Four Seasons. The first time George ever did my hair was for my wedding. It was long and he piled it on my head and placed little sprigs of Lily of the Valley here and there, to match my bouquet. Colleen Birmingham gave me a nice manicure. She's still with George.

I remember Howard and I came into DC in the morning, picked up the flowers, the cake, I got my hair done, etc., and then we drove back to Upperville, to get the house ready for our wedding. It was so simple and so much fun.

That night we drove back into DC, spent the night at the new Four Seasons Hotel, and then departed early the next morning for a honeymoon on Bermuda.

*Call me crazy, but I've already purchased the dress for my next wedding, whenever in the hell that may be. It hangs in my closet, glowing with simplicity and elegance. First order of business is finding Mr. Right II. I know he's out there, but he's not reading this. He fully understands the web, but his doesn't use social media to function. He has a cell phone, maybe the PGA and NFL app, and does email to communicate with his kids. He does not tweet or FB. I could go on...