Christopher Koefoed
Bio
Hollywood screenwriter wrote for BET, American history writer for website www. peopleofthecivilwar.com and product review writer for amazon affiliate store www. healthandfit2.com on www. fb/me.clk1951.
Stories (3/0)
Jesus
JESUS Fifty-eight year-old Jesus Martinez is about to go to the men's locker room when his boss, Mr. Rodney Brown stops him. Sixty-six and from Jamaica, Mr. Brown is not only head of security but runs the Riverdale Senior Center better than Dr. Piccolo himself. Because his mother was a nurse in England, Rodney Brown grew up in a hospital. He keeps an eye on JC like an older brother. "Hey, JC, Ms G. wants to see you pronto. They just moved her to Ward D." Jesus knew right then and there that Ms. G was not doing well.
By Christopher Koefoed4 years ago in Journal
With Love
03/10/2020 With Love My wonderful mother, grandmother and artist, Constance Genevieve Brown Koefoed, died on December 29, 2019 as I was feeding her a spoon full of soap in the hospital. She was ninety-six and full of vitality right up to the last six months of her life. Having lost “the other gal in my life”, my daughter Christina Gabriella Milagro Koefoed, almost ten years earlier on February 15, 2009 at the tender age of twenty-two; I find the grief to sometimes be intolerable. Having your only child taken away from you too soon and now your mother, the next most important person in your life for so many wonderful years, challenges your will to keep on going. They were so simpatico and drew together for hours with love, their hands never leaving the sketching pad. When I was angry, my young daughter use to say “Dad, take a chill pill!”. Like her grandmother she already knew life was to be lived with love and not anger. And “Grandmama Connie” was there for all her grandchildren with love. She taught me the world was a better place if you lived your life with no regrets, realizing always that “less is more”. It was her mantra and I believe the best explanation for the reason why she lived such a long and fruitful life. By never saying anything bad about someone was her way of acknowledging everyone and accepting everyone with love. In a deeper sense being a natural artist with the pen, pencil or even the brush made Mom understand human nature better than most of us. Her art evolved in many directions but always came back to simply admiring humanity. This positive affirmation of life with love had to rub off on someone close to her and it did. On me. She always reminded me that everything comes from something. Like the deep love you have for someone comes from having grown up with love. There is spirituality within all of us. We are all like buds in a garden called life, waiting to be nurtured and caressed with love as our buds become flowers among a garden full of variety. I suspect my mother was the flower in that garden that was always a little bit different. No wonder my mother always surrounded herself with plants and flowers. She was that five year girl who drew wedding dresses on toilet paper because art was so personal to her. She was that thirteen year old tom boy who blooded a fellow male student for bullying her sister. And she was that twenty one year old art student during World War II, who was told by the dean that she would be “uncomfortable” dancing with soldiers from around the world, because of the color of her skin. I can only imagine she was the biggest flirt at that USO canteen, saying later “the tall Texans and Aussies were my favorites.” And yes she was on a roll by marrying a Dane in 1950 in America with love, where states like Virginia still made interracial love unlawful. This was a young woman who was deeply loved by both her parents. They taught her with love to follow her passions and dreams no matter where they would lead. When she became the mother of two boys they were hers with love forever. When someone roughed up my baby brother for innocently wiping snow off of his car, Mom tracked the man down and got an apology. When the public school system was failing, Mom found a better education for her “boys” with love. She sent the both of us to a private school. And paid for it as a single mother by holding down three jobs at once. We did not disappoint. Both of us attended Ivy League schools thanks to Mom with love. And when it was the early seventies and America was in turmoil after the challenging sixties, I attended my first antiwar demonstration with my girlfriend in Washington, DC in 1972. And of course with my Mom. She never lost sight of mankind’s suffering and gave to charities with love. The watercolor she created from experiencing that demonstration she named “DC PROTEST, 1972”. It was abstract and drawn with muted tones and shadows, suggesting conflict. But you cannot live to be ninety-six years of age and be full of hate and anger. Her last words to me were “Where do you think you are going?” Nowhere Mom, where you are not going. Only with love can you conquer all. And yes Mom you taught me that.
By Christopher Koefoed4 years ago in Families
What’s In A Pie?
Maybe it is just the pecans that makes it taste so good. The word “Pecan” comes from a Native American word of Algonquin origin and it was Native Americans who first cultivated them. It means “ nuts requiring a stone to crack”. Both Thomas Jefferson and George Washington planted pecans on their land. One hundred years ago 2.2 million were “cracked”. Today 250 to 300 million pecans lose their shells. Most pecans originate from southeastern and southwestern America and Mexico. My recipe calls for 1/1/2 cups of chopped pecans. I like to semi-chop my pecans so they still have more then a crunchy quality to them. You can semi-toast them but be careful not to burn them. Keep them brown and toasty. I layer the top of each of my pies with whole pecans in a complete circle. After all it is a pecan pie to be begin with and to not be afraid to add more. Pecans are expensive, so if you are near a Costco get your ingredients there. And yes a small daily handful of pecans - 1.5 ounces — may help prevent cardiovascular disease and type II diabetes. BUT that is another story since all the next ingredients are full of sugar. Remember, I only make six pies every Thanksgiving and recipients are waiting with their mouths open for mine. One admitted she started eating her pecan pie as soon as I left it at her doorstep and that was two days before Thanksgiving. Have they no shame! I took a New Orleans recipe to begin with and changed a couple of things. I have been making my Thanksgiving Chocolate Bourbon Pecan Pies for years now and my reputation is growing or maybe it is just all those little chocolate morsels that melt in your mouth after each bite. Ah chocolate! As far back as 1900 B.C, the Olimels of Mexico were the first to consume chocolate drinks. They were the father of Yahoo drinks. Mesoamerican tribes which included the Aztecs and Mayan civilizations enjoyed the bitter tasting drink and you were an honored guest if they offered it to you. Chocolate comes from the roasted and ground cacao seed. No wonder my pies taste so good with coffee. A match made in heaven. I use more then one cup of semi-sweet chocolate morsels inside my pie and I sprinkle whole chocolate morsels on top. Oh and yes it makes my pies real gooey. It adds to the crunchy quality. Today, sixty percent of the world’s supply of chocolate is produced in West Africa, mostly in the countries of Ghana and Cote d’Ivoire. A very sad note and doubly so since children love chocolate. Two million children are part of the labor in these countries that cultivate chocolate and there is high evidence of human trafficking and child slavery. If you can find American or Peruvian produced chocolate you will not be contributing to this sordid mess. Let’s move on to something much sweeter - Jim Beam Honey Bourbon. In the past, I used only straight bourbon but honey is much sweeter and so are my pies. I add at least a half of cup of bourbon to give my pies a bit of a kick. But do not go overboard because too much alcohol will destroy the wonderful taste of the pie. Since we are already in the Neverland world of sugar you might as well add a dollop of homemade whip cream. Not the store bought kind but the homemade kind, where you still taste the ton of sugar you just whipped in. To finish up my special recipe you must first heat your oven to 325 degrees. Just follow these three steps. It is easy.
By Christopher Koefoed4 years ago in Feast
