I had the great good fortune and
privilege of having "Mr. Mintz" as one of my teachers during my
freshman year at Yale in 1961. His famous “Introduction to Anthropology” course
was available, however, only to upperclassmen, and to others “with the written
approval of the instructor.” I am forever grateful that I, a shy freshman, was
able to muster the courage to request his signature on my course approval
form. I came up to him nervously, not
knowing exactly how I would frame my argument should he question my motives for
taking his course. I need not have
worried: he cordially welcomed me and signed the form, without an
interrogation. I was officially on board.
And what a voyage it was. And the voyage continues.
I almost became an anthropology
major, but became an English major instead.
But Sid's influence remained with me and he was the primary reason that,
after graduating from Yale, I decided I wanted to be a teacher. I wanted to be able to teach with passion, conviction,
and knowledge and to pass on to others that best that has been taught and said
in the world. Sid Mintz did just that. He was my role model, my exemplar, my
tutor in the art of teaching. I wanted to be like him.
I met Sid again briefly in 1970 when
we were both Fulbright Fellows in France.
After he moved to Baltimore we reconnected in 1999. He and I became friends and we frequently
corresponded, and both my wife Emily and I enjoyed many visits with Sid and
Jackie in Baltimore. His influence on
me as a teacher-scholar has been profound.
I miss his kindness and wit, his honesty, all of which were fully
apparent in long conversations during which I became his student again and was
treated to his articulate insights about anthropology, his pioneering field
work in the Caribbean, and his joyful attitude toward life in all its abundance
-- an attitude he carried with him to the end of his life.
During Fall 2015 I served as a Visiting Lecturer
with the University of Virginia's "Semester at Sea" program of
Atlantic exploration. I taught a course on the literature of the sea called
"The Sea and there Mirror" that focused on the trans-Alantic slave
trade and the culture of the Caribbean. Sid patiently spent hours giving me
suggestions on readings, both literary and anthropological, that deeply
enriched my course by broadening my horizons.
We were looking forward to getting together after the sea voyage in
January, 2016. Alas, this was not to
be. A friend of mine, who had met Sid
and had learned of his death, wrote to me: "Sid was so alive. He is so
alive. He will be with us always."
Back in 1998 I was working at the
Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum in St. Michaels, Maryland, on the Chesapeake
Bay, home of the world's best oysters.
Sid was fascinated by work the Museum was doing in collecting oral
histories of oystermen and crabbers on the Bay, so we invited him and Jackie to
visit us for a weekend. We served them recently shucked oysters placed in small
muffin tins topped with a small slice of bacon and seasoned with a drop of
Worcestershire sauce. The tins were placed under a pre-heated broiler and
served afterwards with a good dry white wine.
I think Sid was in seventh heaven -- we all ate so any oysters before dinner that we hardly had
room for the main course.
Therefore, knowing that oysters were
something they liked, Emily and I brought the ingredients for oyster stew to
their home in Baltimore back in January of 2012 and cooked a delicious oyster
stew for them in their kitchen.
We share the following recipe with
all of you, in loving memory of Sid.
"Emily's Oyster Stew, a la
Mintz"
Ingredients:
4 small French boules or sourdough
bread cut like a pumpkin and scraped out on the inside
2 pints large shucked oysters,
drained but save the juice
1/2 cup finely Mintzed celery
2 finely Mintzed shallots
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
White pepper
Salt to taste
Dash Worchester sauce
4 teaspoons finely Mintzed parsley
4 cups half and half (half milk, half
cream)
1 cup good white wine
Cooking:
In a fry pan sauté celery and
shallots in butter. Do not burn. Take 1/2 pint oysters and Mintz
coarsely. Add to sautéed ingredients.
Cook for a moment and then add wine and oyster juice and reduce to 1/2 amount.
Keep warm. In another sauce pan heat
half and half and add seasonings. Add
sautéed ingredients to half and half.
Add the remaining oysters and heat gently until the oyster edges
slightly curl. Add remaining butter.
Pour into boules, add parsley, and serve immediately. Use the scraped
out bread to dip up stew.
Jonathan Swift said, "Brave was
the man that first ate an oyster." And brave, too, were we to serve oyster
stew to such an epicure as Sid. But he enjoyed every bit of it. Supported all the day long with good wine,
great food, and wonderful conversation, the afternoon waned, the shadows
lengthened, and the evening came, and the busy world was hushed as we departed
for home, each of us cozy in our safe lodgings, for rest and peace at the end
of the day and knowing that life is good.
