Guardian angels

(Editor's Note: Lovina is off this week due to illness. Her column will return next week.)

A friend once told me I have a guardian angel in the late Elizabeth Coblentz, the original Amish Cook columnist.

The time was when I might've cynically dismissed such notions, but after this past week, I'm not so sure. It wasn't one thing, but rather a collection of smaller happenings. The same friend told me that, in life, there are no coincidences. Maybe she's right. It began on the Pennsylvania Turnpike last week as the whirling lights of a police car filled my rear-view mirror. I gulped, looked down at the speedometer: 71 mph. Maybe he's after someone else. He wasn't. I eased my car onto the median.

"Where are you headed?" the officer tersely inquired. "New York City," I answered politely.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?" The officer asked. His eyes glowered over me.

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"What's that?" he said, suddenly sounding almost pleasant, shining the flashlight onto the seat of my car where I had several years worth of Elizabeth Coblentz's columns in a neat stack, ready for my meetings. I wanted to show the duration of the column, so I brought some very old ones along with Lovina's which were out of view on the bottom.

"Well.." I stammered, but he interrupted me. "You know, my granny loved that column until the day she died. It really brought her a lot of happiness," he said. It almost seemed that his eyes were moistening. Maybe it was just the freeway smog or the lights.

"I really appreciate hearing that, I'm the column's editor, and I've been doing this for " I responded. "Oh, I know how long, because granny was reading it back when my grandfather was still alive," the officer grinned, slapping the top of my car. "Tell you what," the officer said: "Let's just part ways and both try to have a better day."

He never did tell me why he pulled me over, but I gingerly accelerated into the Pennsylvania night, glancing up at the Heavens thanking Elizabeth.

I was journeying to New York City this past week as part of my efforts try to save the Amish Cook column, something I've been inviting readers to do by enrolling in the Friend Club. I drove the 10 hours so I could meet with my literary agent who was going to update me on the status of a book proposal about my experiences with the Amish. This unwritten book, and reader Friend Club enrollment, is what will ultimately keep the column around for another 18 years I booked a room ahead of time at a motel right off the interstate but in the maze of highways in Jersey I made a wrong exit and ended up in a sketchy area of Newark. A sign pointed towards the airport. I figured I'd just follow those and find a hotel, there'd have to be one near the airport. Seeing nothing familiar, and tiring of fighting my lousy night vision, I pulled into a seedy dive called the "Ritz Motel." Considering the place's appearance, the name seemed cruel. But, in my mind, there was a poignancy to the fact that in the darkness I had strayed into a town called "Elizabeth." I bolted the door shut, figuring that, perhaps, Elizabeth was indeed watching over me that night.

My cell phone jarred me from the haze of 7 a.m. sleep, and I was back in the reality of this dingy room. "I can't make our meeting today, I'm sick as a dog," my literary agent croaked into the phone. My stomach churned. "Don't look back, only look forward." Elizabeth would always admonish me.

So putting on my jacket and tie, I left the Ritz behind and headed for a train station. There was a "brand convention" in New York City.

It's where brand-owners meet with manufacturers to wheel and deal. It's where Rachael Ray pots and pans, Martha Stewart sheets, and Dilbert calendars are born. Why not some Amish Cook-branded cast-iron cookware or calendars? I was determined to salvage this trip after all. I gathered my stuff and headed for the train station, but I quickly found out what most New Yorkers think of The Amish Cook.

At the convention hall, I approached the booth of one well-known branding agency and launched into a sales pitch to a stylishly dressed young lady. I spread Amish Cook column samples from papers like The Dodge City Daily Globe, The Hutchinson News, the Times of Northwest Indiana, and others on the booth's counter.

"Yeah, yeah. Look, it's kind of crazy here right now, the show isn't the best time for me to look at something like this," the woman said in a heavy New Yawk accent.

"Um, isn't that what this show is FOR, to evaluate new brands?" "Look, we deal with household names: Wolfgang Puck, Paula Deen. This Aim-ish lady just isn't enough of a celebrity." "Her column is in a 120 newspapers, she is well-known in some places," I protested.

"Look, I was the homecoming queen at my high school, that would make ME a celebrity in that town," the woman said. "Everyone knew me!"

"But we had 800 people turn out when Lovina made an appearance in Kansas a couple of years ago, when her mother died CNN ran an announcement on the crawler, the New York Times ran a large obituary, they wouldn't do THAT for a homecoming queen" I countered, to no apparent avail. Similar scenes were repeated in other booths at the show. Drained after such a disastrous journey I headed for Penn Station to grab a train back to my car for the long ride home wondering if I'd ever hear from my agent. As I crossed the street I glanced up and noticed the sign: 34th Street. I shook my head, briefly embittered at the irony. Like the Ritz Hotel the night before the name seemed to be mocking me. After having Lovina dismissed as a backwater bumpkin by Big Apple brand-makers, however, my resolve to continue the column hardened and that might be what I needed. I vowed to return someday stronger. Perhaps there would be a Miracle on 34th Street after all.

If readers stick with the column, these "brand experts" can one day realize that The Amish Cook does have a meaningful following. Readers can keep The Amish Cook column going by joining the Friend Club, we could still use 200-300 more members:

BASIC 1-YEAR MEMBERSHIP $10; "Lovina Eicher name card". "Name cards" are small business-card type identifiers that the Amish often exchange at singings, potlucks, and church gatherings.

1-YEAR SILVER $25; name card, signed 8 by 10 color photo of the Eicher's horse and buggy or meal-time scene. Free access to any paid products at amishcookonline.com.

1 YEAR GOLD $50; all of the above, plus a quarterly newsletter, "The Amish Cook Extra," with family favorite recipes, color photos of Lovina's home, stories and Amish information.

EDITOR'S CIRCLE $75; All of the above, plus a birthday card from Lovina sent to the home of one loved one per year.

Memberships can be sent to: Oasis Newsfeatures, P.O. Box 2144, Middletown, Ohio 45042.. Readers can also join with credit card by calling 1-877-571-4112 24 hours, 7 days.

And, in homage to my "guardian angel", here is one of Elizabeth's favorite recipes. It goes great on a sandwich.

HOT PEPPER BUTTER

42 hot peppers

1 pint of yellow mustard

1 quart of vinegar

6 cups of sugar

1 tablespoon salt

1 cup of flour

1 1 /2 cups water

Grind hot peppers, add mustard, vinegar, sugar, and salt and bring to a boil. Make a paste with flour and water. Add to boiling mixture and cook five minutes. Pour into pint jars and seal. Makes 7 pints.