Category: Occasions

My Dad, my sister, and my grandson.

Dad, second from left, and Diane, next to Dad, are joined by Caleb and Mom as they watched SP on the front beach this summer.
Dad, second from left, and Diane, next to Dad, are joined by Caleb and Mom as they watched SP on the front beach this summer.

Every year, I travel to Anchorage in October to facilitate the Village Seminar for the Aleut Corporation.  The meetings are usually held on Thursday and Friday in the 3rd week of October.  If my Mom and Dad fly  in early, I miss Dad’s birthday.  If my sister, Diane, flys up from the lower 48, we celebrate their birthdays together.  (That one doesn’t happen very often.)  There has been one static for the past 7 years….I miss my grandson’s birthday. 

Me and SP, day 3.
Me and SP, day 3.

I suppose having been in the room when he was born should count for many years of missed days.  Especially when you take into account what my daughter told me to do to myself  at 4:30 am, after she had been in labor for 37 hours!  (She ended up laboring for 47 hours, I do believe.  I have forgotten, although I am certain she has not.)  And having him in my hotel room on  his first birthday, stark naked on a sheet, indulging in a decadant chocolate first birthday cake (him, not me) counts also. 

A 'man-cake'!
A 'man-cake'!

I feel extreme guilt when I see the picture of him on his second birthday…his mom was also in Anchorage that year, and SP was home with Grandpa.  Caleb, the wonderman, put a candle in the shape of the number 2 on top of a box of animal crackers.  That was SP’s birthday cake!  He did let SP blow out the candle numerous times…something that they both were very excited about.  I was really excited when Mom said we would have a second little party for him when we got home this year.  Was I ever surprised to find out that, being the last one to fly in a mere 3 days after everyone else, they had the party for him 2 nights before I got home!!  What the hell?? 

So, to break the silence of my blog, I want to wish my Dad, Sam, 83, my sister, Diane, 52,  and my grandson, SP, 8, many, many years.

How to set the perfect table for a lustax^ party.

Mom called me up about 9:30 one morning not long ago.  She said, “Guess what?”  What, I said, expecting some juicy gossip.  “Irene is having lustax^ and we’re invited!”  Woo hoo.  How many people are coming, what can I bring…. Mom says Julia says they have everything.  Just come at noon.  I am drooling already.  I volunteer to cut up some dried salmon just to take in case they don’t have any. 

Why so excited you ask?  What the heck  is lustax^?   Lustax^ is one of those true trade item subsistence foods.  Traditionally, lustax^ is made from the flippers of the Northern fur seal.  We get them from St. Paul, even though, yes, we see fur seal coming through the pass in the spring and around November, but hunters are few and far between.  So, no salmon in St. Paul?  No fur seal in Unalaska?  Perfect trade. 

Lustax^ is technically salted, aged flipper.  To those of us who grew up with it – it stinks good.  My father, on the other hand for example, used to leave the  house when we had lustax^, or he would smoke a big, ole cigar. 

Setting the table:

Use card board or thick brown paper bags as plates and placemats.
Use card board or thick brown paper bags as plates and placemats.

You may use a plate for the potatoes and everything else, but you must, must, must cut your lustax^ on the placemat.  That is just the way it is done!!

Sharp knives...an absolute necessity!
Sharp knives...an absolute necessity!
Boiled potatoes.
Boiled potatoes.

We were extra lucky.  There was fur seal meat and fat in the pot, too!!!

Seal oil.
Seal oil.
Lustux^.
Lustax^.

Ready to eat!

The table set for a lustax^ party.
The table set for a lustax^ party.

Several other ingredients are needed.

Irene McGlashan- whose daughter, June, is her St. Paul connection.
Irene McGlashan- whose daughter, June, is her St. Paul connection.
Julia Dushkin, whose hosted the party at her house.
Julia Dushkin, who hosted the party at her house.
Gert Svarny - my mom, one of the lucky invitees.
Gert Svarny - my mom, one of the lucky invitees.

As we sat down to eat, Mom said, and I am quoting her here, “I was so afraid I wasn’t going to get lustax^ again before I died!” 

My plate.
My plate.

Foods indigenous to a culture are part of who we are.  Elders can absolutely feel unhealthy if they are not able to eat the foods they are used to eating.  It is an extremely important tradition to carry with us and to pass down to our younger generations.  June’s mother-in-law, Mrs. Shabolin from St. Paul,  made the lustax^. 

I have to really thank Irene for taking to heart my whining one day about missing sitting and eating native foods with other women, especially lustax^.  Within two weeks, I was full of good stuff and basking in the good company.  And she gave me seal oil to take home!  Qag^aasakung, ladies!