Tag Archives: Career

French Onion Soup

19 Friday Feb 2010

Posted by in In the Kitchen, Life at Home

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Like so many new experiences I had upon entering the business world, I discovered I liked French Onion Soup.

My first sampling came in a cup at the original Interurban Restaurant in Norman, just a short walk down Main Street from the office where I worked.  I didn’t know then that the building that housed the restaurant was, in a previous life, an old inter-city trolley station for a commuter rail that ferried people from Norman to Oklahoma City before it closed in the early forties.  It was part of the same trolley system that also ran through the heart of Mesta Park,  just a little west from where I now live.

Though I didn’t know it then, Mesta Park was known as the Comeback Neighborhood when I first tasted that soup.  But there were so many things I didn’t know then.   I didn’t know whether I liked tax work.  I didn’t know that I would dream of numbers when I fell asleep at night.   And I didn’t know I was pregnant with my first child the day I reported to work at that small accounting firm that took a chance on hiring me.

It took two pregnancy tests to confirm my pregnancy.  And it took a few weeks to gain the courage to break the news to the managing partner.  Fearing the worst, I thought Mr. Stephenson might fire me on the spot, untried and unproved as I was.  Pregnancy in those days, when women were first breaking into the ranks of professional firms, was widely viewed —  what in my Arthur Andersen days came to be known as a “CLM”  —  as a “career limiting move.”  So when my boss merely chuckled, assuring me that “it” happened in the best of families,”   I never forgot it or him.  To this day, I still keep up with Mr. Stephenson.  He even helped my son Bryan land his first job at another local accounting firm three years ago.

Omer still has a small accounting practice in Norman though the Interurban location I frequented is now closed.   Many other Interurban locations have sprung up and, while the soup is no longer served, other menu items I liked are still there, like their famous Okie Pig Sandwich and New York Cheesecake topped with berries.  I haven’t been to the restaurant in years, but I know where there’s a downtown location, just a short walk from my Mesta Park home.

Meanwhile, here at home, the soup is always on the menu.  It’s easy to make and a good way to use up the home-made beef broth I always have in my freezer.  I’ve used this particular recipe for over twenty years and have found it to be good anytime of the year — just like it was at the Interurban all those years ago.

I don’t know why I don’t make this soup more often.  But this I know: Next in importance to the three words, “I love you” — are the three words, “I don’t know.”  I don’t know why it’s so hard to say “I don’t know.”  I don’t say it nearly enough.  Nor did I when I was parenting or when I was considered a “tax expert” all those years ago.  And if I had to bet, I’d say the three words, “I love ___,” are said more often than the three words, “I don’t know.”  But….

….I don’t know.  Try the soup.  I love it.

French Onion Soup

2 to 3 bowl size servings

3 Tbsp olive oil
3 cups thinly sliced onions
1 Tbsp butter
3/4 tsp salt
1 1/2 Tbsp flour
4 cups beef broth, strained of fat  (homemade preferred)
Salt & pepper to taste
Slices of french bread, 1 inch thick
Swiss Cheese slices

On stove-top:

Melt olive oil in a large skillet over medium low heat.  Add onions and salt — cook over low heat until onions have softened — about 20 minutes.  Dot with butter and continue cooking until golden brown — another 20 minutes.  Sprinkle flour over onions and stir until well blended.  Remove from heat.

In a large sauce pan, bring broth to a boil.  Stir in onions, cover and simmer for 40 minutes.  Season with salt and pepper (if using my recipe for a homemade broth, very little salt will need to be added)

In a 350 degree oven:

On a cookie sheet, add lightly buttered bread (both sides) and broil until golden and crisp.  Watch closely as toast next to the element browns quickly.  Top the toast with a slice of cheese and bake until cheese melts.

Ladle soup into bowls and top with a slice of cheese toast.

Other Side of the Fence

11 Monday Jan 2010

Posted by in Life at Home

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The early spring warmth that lightly stirs the magnolia branches is beckoning life to come and play.   Even now, the neighbor dogs and my own Madeleine chase each other up and down the wood fence that hides their view of the competition.  From where I sit, looking out my second story window, I’d put my money on Maddie.

My son Bryan will be running back and forth to Edmond this semester for a needed accounting class that O.U. doesn’t offer.  Hoping for an easy meal, Bryan called to ask about this evening’s dinner menu.  And then…almost as an afterthought…Bryan casually mentioned he had a job interview this Wednesday.   Who knows but that perhaps this rare job interview is a breath of warm air showing signs of life in the economy.

The name of the hiring firm — one I’ve never heard of — caused me to offer little by way of comment.  Interpreting this as a lack of endorsement, Bryan surprised me by asking if he should accept a position if offered.  Of course, I told Bryan I didn’t know the answer to his question but that any job offer would be hard to pass up in this economy — as long as he liked the company and the company liked him.

I have to laugh when I consider that I have one son asking me questions like this and another who doesn’t trust me to know what is appropriate business attire for downtown Oklahoma City.   In the space of days, I’ve had one son put too much store in my opinion and the other dismiss me for the junk heap that I should crawl on top of — being the all-used-up CPA that I am, of course.  And the beautiful irony sitting on the fence is that I know more about what Kyle should wear to work than what Bryan should do in accepting work.

But back to Bryan’s Wednesday appointment — having sat on the interviewer’s side of the fence, I would guess competition for this new staff position will be fierce.  I don’t envy the interviewers their job since there is so little to actually go on in making hiring decisions on new college graduates.  But knowing what I know about Bryan — if these interviewers could use a biased opinion of an all washed up CPA who no longer knows how to dress for success — I could tell them exactly who to put their money on for a sure bet.

And maybe because I’m not their mother, they might actually listen.

Empty Nest

07 Tuesday Apr 2009

Posted by in Life at Home, Prayer, Soul Care

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It’s a rare day at home without plans.  The gorgeous day lies before me with endless possibilities.  What will I do?

 

Whatever it is, the day began on a high note when the phone rang and it was Kate Louise.  Phone calls from my daughter Kate are exceedingly rare as her days and nights are full with new life.  In her first year as a registered nurse, she works for an OB-GYN practice in Norman, and when she’s not doing that, she shares life with her new husband Glen and her new step-children Ryan and Tayler and her own two munchkins, Jackson and Karson. 

 

As I listen to her talk about her busting-to-the-seams life, what with baseball and softball practice and games and gymnastics and devoting Saturdays to caring for her step-daughter’s infant, I am reminded of my own history of career woman by day and Suzy Homemaker-by-night, in those days of young adulthood when anything seemed possible if I only worked hard enough, when I measured fullness of life more by the stuff packed in than the stuff unpacked.

 

As I write this, I realize that even now, life is too full.  Why else would I treasure this rare day of having no plans?  My fullness comes no longer from raising money and children, but raising flowers and God consciousness and maybe helping others to do the same, as I undertake plans toward certification in master gardening and in spiritual direction.

 

What is it with certifications anyway?  I am a certified public accountant, though I no longer practice.  When I did, I found certification did not make accountants better than they were before receiving their certificate.  By the same token, I’ve learned from working the master gardening ‘hope desk’ that certification means very little in the way of practical knowledge.   And I imagine it will be no different in serving as another’s spiritual director.  Maybe certification is merely a sort of good housekeeping seal of intention to practice what cannot lead to perfection.     

 

The practice I most enjoy these days is writing.  It’s one of two daily practices that force me to empty and regularly sort through my everyday life.  Both invite me to tiptoe closer to eternity, where time grows so heavy it stops and where busyness has no meaning.  Maybe if I’m lucky, some of my written words will survive my death, and until then, perhaps the clarity they shed will allow me to live larger than life.    

 

It’s ironic that I most enjoy the practices where certifications are not given.  While certifications have inspired others to listen to my words, and even to pay me for them, the best listening happens without want of certifying, as the words written and prayed just naturally seek the right audience.  And maybe my own audience is the most important of them all, as prayer and writing force me to listen to my own life.   

 

I will leave today empty of plans.  And with this intention written and prayed, already a sense of fullness invades.  I scoot over to make room in my nest for something larger than me.