William Penn Life, 2003 (38. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
2003-03-01 / 3. szám
Treasured Recipes with Chef Vilmos All things must pass WELL, DEAR READERS, I HAVE beaten a fair number of eggs in my day, but I have never been one to beat around the bush. It's not a fair thing to do, especially when what you have to say is kind of important and affect people you care about. So, here goes: This is my last column for the William Penn Life. You read me right: I am hanging up my keyboard...actually, I'm turning it over to someone else, but more on that later. I know this is disappointing news to some of you. Believe me when I say this was not an easy decision for me to make. I enjoyed writing this column just as much as (if not more than) you enjoyed reading it. It was fun. No, it was more than fun. It was therapeutic. It offered me a release, a chance to vent, a chance to share and explore parts of myself...all in a good-natured way. (Yikes! I'm starting to sound like some TV pseudo-psychologist. It IS time for me to quit.) "But, Chef Vilmos," you say. "Why? Why are you leaving, Chef Vilmos. Why?" (Insert you own sniffles here.) Well, dear readers, that's a bit hard to explain. What it boils down to is that I'm tired. No, I'm not tired of sharing time with you. No, I'm not tired of cooking. And, no, I am not tired of writing. I guess what I am tired of is struggling to come up with new ideas, keeping things fresh and interesting. I recently found myself producing retreads-reusing old columns, just putting in some new words. That did not please me. It made me feel lazy. Worse, it made me feel as though I were cheating you. In fact, that's what I was doing. I hated doing that. You probably have noticed that "Treasured Recipes" has not been appearing in every issue. It wasn't because the editors didn't have space for my column, or that they didn't want a column from me for a particular month. My column would not appear because I did not have the time or ideas for a new column. It got to the point that I asked the managing editor to consider finding a replacement for me, someone else who was qualified and willing to take over "Treasured Recipes." Fortunately, for all of us, he did just that. Beginning in the next issue, there will be a new Chef Vilmos. Well, I don't know if he'll call himself that, but his first name is William. His last name is Vasvary. If the two names combined-William Vasvary— ring a bell, that's because: (1) he's a member of the WPA National Auditing Committee, and (2) he was featured in a recent "Spotlight" article. Bill is a certified chef, an excellent cook and a really decent guy. And, man-oh-man, is he eager to share his knowledge, experience and recipes with you. Trust me: Bill is going to bring a lot of great new, fresh and interesting ideas to this page. I know that I can hardly wait to see him strut his stuff. I know in my heart, dear readers, you will welcome him as you welcomed me. Before I go, I must deliver some special "thank you's." First, I must thank the WPA for giving me the space and freedom to express myself in my own way. I may have seemed a bit unorthodox at times, a bit freewheeling, and I appreciate that I always was allowed to be me. Secondly, I thank all those who were kind and generous enough to share recipes with me and the rest of our readers. Some of these recipes were like family heirlooms, passed from one generation to the next. It's nice to know those who shared such recipes consider us to be part of their family. They are certainly part of mine. Finally, I must thank you, dear readers, for your kind and devoted attention to my musings and ramblings. You were the ones who made this whole experience worthwhile. I wish you and yours many joyous, delicious and relaxing meals in the warm presence of each other's company. As for me, I will not be riding off into any sunsets. I will be keeping myself busy in the kitchen, doing what I love—what I was meant—to do. But, every once in a while, I'll look up from my mixing bowl or sauce pan. I'll be facing the cabinet door or range top, but not really looking at anything in particular. What I'll really be looking at is what my mind's eye sees. I'll be seeing the countless faces I have never seen, faces which lit up ever-so-slightly when they read my column. Then, I'll smile a little smile and return to my recipe. Satisfied. 12 Win Hűli«, March 2003
