Let's start today by discussing sins committed by writers.
I read another book by James Freeman. No, that's not right. I made an attempt to read Ishi's Journey but I gave it up. You may remember that Freeman is a teacher at Bucks County Community College, whom I met at my writer's group.
Ishi's Journey was certainly a good idea for a book: based on a true incident, a northwest Indian, living the primitive life, wanders into a 1911 slaughter house. Culture shock ensues. Trouble is, stone-age man doesn't meet modern Americans until 3/4s of the way through the book. Then, instead of dramatizing the actual meeting, Freeman apparently copies into the book what appears to be a news clipping of the event. I peeked ahead, saw a scene or two where a couple anthropologists sit around a campfire with Ishi and draw stories out of him. And I quit the book.
Freeman, that's the reason I gave up on you before. Tale-telling by your characters is no substitute for plot.
Next, we have Sin and the Second City by Karen Abbott, a non-fiction account of a couple famous madams in Chicago and the religious and legal crusaders that tried to shut them down. There are some cow patties, but the book reads like a novel. I thought Abbott's tone might be: ha-ha, look how the madams got away with it despite those prim and proper prudes. But she actually showed some respect for the ministers and prosecuters who fought a long fight against vice. Did they win? What? You think I'm going to tell you?
Next, may I recommend Long After Dark, a book of short stories by Todd Robert Petersen. It comes from Zarahemla Books, a publisher that offers LDS literature with a little edge to it. Petersen's characters aren't sweetly perfect. They have their share of troubles. But that, my friends, it what makes for engaging literature.
I had a little trouble getting the point of Petersen's novella, the last entry in Long After . . .. But I stuck with it and it came together for me.
Next, I read a heart warmer, Once Upon a Town by Bob Greene. This is the story of North Platte, Nebraska, a town isolated out in the Sand Hills region, whose citizens decided to operate a canteen for the World War II soldiers that passed through on the trains every day. They didn't have a budget or an expense account. They lived under the strains of food rationing. Yet out of the goodness of their hearts, they provided cakes, sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, milk, fried chicken, etc., etc., to millions of surprised soldiers.
Finally, I finished Orson Scott Card's Alvin Maker series. In Heartfire, the last volume, Alvin goes to trial for witchery up in New England, a place where don't take kindly to such things. A couple historical names you will recognize appear in the story, sparking things up a bit.
And now for your recipe, Sunday Football Sandwich Sensation is something I've always been hesitant to make. I went cross-eyed looking at the list of ingredients. The finished product was a mouth-stretcher. And all the exotic ingredients fell out as we tried to eat the thing.
But I get the idea of it now: you make a small salad and use it to garnish and flavor a rather basic sandwich. Here's the official list of ingredients (and my notes on good-enough substitutes)
1 (1 1/2 lb.) round unsliced Italian or French bread (I used squishy hoagie buns)
1 (6 oz.) jar sweet fried peppers w/ onions, drained (I found something with peppers but no onion in the olives-and-pickles aisle. The peppers sat in a garlicky oil which I drained off before I sliced them haphazardly)
1 (4 1/4 oz) can chopped ripe olives, drained
1/2 head lettuce, shredded, about 4 cups (hey, I love the bagged stuff)
1/2 cup bottled Italian dressing
1 1/2 lbs. thinly sliced deli meats like mortadella, salami, and pepperoni (Um, those are yucky. But honey ham and smoked turkey were great)
1 lb. thinly sliced deli cheese like mozzarella and provolone (Or Swiss, sorry if it ruins the ethnic purity of the sandwich)
2 large tomatoes, sliced 1/4-inch thick.
Split the bread. Mix the pepper stuff, the olives, the lettuce. Add the dressing and toss to coat.
Put some salad on one side of the bread. Layer on the meats, cheese and tomatoes. Add more salad. Top it off with the other half of the bread.
This is how John and I fed ourselves one night last week, while living in a Louisville hotel room with a kitchenette. It was the food of happiness. I wish I had another one of these sandwiches right now.
I'd tell you the calorie count, assuming of course that you care, but I think my calculations are based on using those yucky meats. So my numbers are wrong. I'm too lazy to re-do them at the moment. I'd really rather read my next book right now. It's about sororities. Oooohh, the cattiness!!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
WHERE ARE MY COOKIES?
I came home from the family reunion and found that my cat-sitter had raided my cookie stash. At least she left two for us.
They were MRS. FIELDS COOKIES, or I think so anyway. The newspaper I got them from called them "$250 Cookies." Back then, a story was going around that somebody called the Mrs. Fields Company and asked for the recipe, agreeing to pay the $2.50 they demanded. When she checked her credit card bill, she'd been charged $250. In revenge she published the recipe far and wide.
So here is the version I use:
2 cups butter, melted
2 cups granulated sugar
2 cups brown sugar
4 eggs
2 tsp. vanilla
4 cups flour
5 cups oatmeal
1 tsp. salt
2 tsp. baking powder
2 tsp. baking soda
1 (24 oz.) pkg. chocolate chips
1 (7 oz.) Hershey bar, grated
Cream sugars and butter. Add eggs and vanilla. In separate bowl, mix flour, oatmeal (measure out the 5 cups oatmeal, then put small amounts in blender and blend until powdery), salt, baking powder & baking soda. Combine all mixed ingredients, add chips (the dough can hold only about 18 oz. of chips. I'm sure you'll figure out something to do with the leftovers) and Hershey bar. Make golf-ball sized cookies & place on ungreased baking sheets 2 in. apart. Bake at 375' for 9-11 minutes.
As you might guess from the quantities, this makes a big batch. Hope you have a bath-tub sized mixing bowl.
When we made our first batch years ago, I was all ready to start spooning out the dough. Then the oven caught fire. Sparks and flames burst out of the electric elements inside. The oven made zinging and zapping sounds. I yelled at Jim to call the fire department. He was about 14 at the time. "What do I tell them?" he said.
"That we're having a fire!" Then I ran down in the basement and turned off every switch in the electric box.
Cutting off the juice quelled the fire. But we were jumpy with adrenaline the rest of the night. And we had a big bowl of cookie dough and no oven to bake it in.
We talked the neighbors into letting us bake it at their house. It wasn't hard.
Oh, and for those of you that care, the entire recipe rings in at 14,600 calories total. 1/4 cup of dough is probably 313 cals.
As for the Finished Book Pile, we'll start with Another Place at the Table by Kathy Harrison. This woman worked for the Head Start program. She saw so many needy kids that she decided to become a foster mom. A hundred kids later, she wrote a book (when did she find the time?) that I really couldn't stay away from. I was simply in awe of how she handled crises like convincing a very dirty little victim of sexual abuse to take a bath. The social workers, the counselors, even the lawyers exhibited amazing people skills. Walking with her through the tough moments kept me gripped. For instance, whenever she gets new child, she takes them to a doctor for a thorough examination. So there she sits, in the waiting room, with a bruised and battered baby, and all the other parents giving her accusing looks.
Next up, The Abstinence Teacher by Tom Perrotta. I feel like I'm making less of a report and more of a confession. Ok, ok, the book was full of cow patties, but it's just the nature of the subject. I stuck with it for the sake of opposition research. It wasn't hard to figure out the author's bias: Abstinence is crock. His heroine is forced to teach it anyway, thanks to the crazy members of the something-something Tabernacle that's taking over the town, even the whole country! A person like me, who believes we ought to give abstinence a chance, reads a book like this just to know if these Tabernacle types are portrayed fairly. Perrotta does his best to make them into real crazies. The minister, once a normal, lowly worker in an electronics store, has a mystical, almost electrical conversion when he finds a Bible he had tossed under his desk, whereupon he proceeds to destroy all the evil TVs and computers throughout the store.
Right, Perrotta.
A Barbie-doll of a woman comes to the school to plug for the Abstinence Ed. program, telling the assembled students that she's a 28-yr.-old virgin with a hot boyfriend, and showing pictures of their vacation together in the Caribbean.
Right, Perrotta. Abstinence requires a few buffer-zone rules. It's not just "no sex," it's "no just-the-two-of-you vacations with your hot boyfriend."
It's a good read, but the author's jacket picture--crossed arms, ironic smile--told me that he just doesn't get the sincerely religious person. Only one of his Tabernacle people was a fully fleshed-out human being and half the story is about whether Tim will hold up, or whether he will crumble under the dictates of his faith.
In the end, I was angry at wacky believers as well as at too-cool-for-you unbelievers.
They were MRS. FIELDS COOKIES, or I think so anyway. The newspaper I got them from called them "$250 Cookies." Back then, a story was going around that somebody called the Mrs. Fields Company and asked for the recipe, agreeing to pay the $2.50 they demanded. When she checked her credit card bill, she'd been charged $250. In revenge she published the recipe far and wide.
So here is the version I use:
2 cups butter, melted
2 cups granulated sugar
2 cups brown sugar
4 eggs
2 tsp. vanilla
4 cups flour
5 cups oatmeal
1 tsp. salt
2 tsp. baking powder
2 tsp. baking soda
1 (24 oz.) pkg. chocolate chips
1 (7 oz.) Hershey bar, grated
Cream sugars and butter. Add eggs and vanilla. In separate bowl, mix flour, oatmeal (measure out the 5 cups oatmeal, then put small amounts in blender and blend until powdery), salt, baking powder & baking soda. Combine all mixed ingredients, add chips (the dough can hold only about 18 oz. of chips. I'm sure you'll figure out something to do with the leftovers) and Hershey bar. Make golf-ball sized cookies & place on ungreased baking sheets 2 in. apart. Bake at 375' for 9-11 minutes.
As you might guess from the quantities, this makes a big batch. Hope you have a bath-tub sized mixing bowl.
When we made our first batch years ago, I was all ready to start spooning out the dough. Then the oven caught fire. Sparks and flames burst out of the electric elements inside. The oven made zinging and zapping sounds. I yelled at Jim to call the fire department. He was about 14 at the time. "What do I tell them?" he said.
"That we're having a fire!" Then I ran down in the basement and turned off every switch in the electric box.
Cutting off the juice quelled the fire. But we were jumpy with adrenaline the rest of the night. And we had a big bowl of cookie dough and no oven to bake it in.
We talked the neighbors into letting us bake it at their house. It wasn't hard.
Oh, and for those of you that care, the entire recipe rings in at 14,600 calories total. 1/4 cup of dough is probably 313 cals.
As for the Finished Book Pile, we'll start with Another Place at the Table by Kathy Harrison. This woman worked for the Head Start program. She saw so many needy kids that she decided to become a foster mom. A hundred kids later, she wrote a book (when did she find the time?) that I really couldn't stay away from. I was simply in awe of how she handled crises like convincing a very dirty little victim of sexual abuse to take a bath. The social workers, the counselors, even the lawyers exhibited amazing people skills. Walking with her through the tough moments kept me gripped. For instance, whenever she gets new child, she takes them to a doctor for a thorough examination. So there she sits, in the waiting room, with a bruised and battered baby, and all the other parents giving her accusing looks.
Next up, The Abstinence Teacher by Tom Perrotta. I feel like I'm making less of a report and more of a confession. Ok, ok, the book was full of cow patties, but it's just the nature of the subject. I stuck with it for the sake of opposition research. It wasn't hard to figure out the author's bias: Abstinence is crock. His heroine is forced to teach it anyway, thanks to the crazy members of the something-something Tabernacle that's taking over the town, even the whole country! A person like me, who believes we ought to give abstinence a chance, reads a book like this just to know if these Tabernacle types are portrayed fairly. Perrotta does his best to make them into real crazies. The minister, once a normal, lowly worker in an electronics store, has a mystical, almost electrical conversion when he finds a Bible he had tossed under his desk, whereupon he proceeds to destroy all the evil TVs and computers throughout the store.
Right, Perrotta.
A Barbie-doll of a woman comes to the school to plug for the Abstinence Ed. program, telling the assembled students that she's a 28-yr.-old virgin with a hot boyfriend, and showing pictures of their vacation together in the Caribbean.
Right, Perrotta. Abstinence requires a few buffer-zone rules. It's not just "no sex," it's "no just-the-two-of-you vacations with your hot boyfriend."
It's a good read, but the author's jacket picture--crossed arms, ironic smile--told me that he just doesn't get the sincerely religious person. Only one of his Tabernacle people was a fully fleshed-out human being and half the story is about whether Tim will hold up, or whether he will crumble under the dictates of his faith.
In the end, I was angry at wacky believers as well as at too-cool-for-you unbelievers.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Stuck in Europe
Well, to finish out that thick book pile, we're going to concentrate on Europe and the Americans who, for one reason or another, can't quite stay away from the Continent.
Sonia Pilcer wrote a volume of short stories The Holocaust Kid that sounds pretty autobiographical. She's the child of Holocaust survivors, so her Great Burden in life is that every time she complains about her teenage angst, her parents say, "What? You have it so hard? Is this why we survived, so you could turn out like this?" As a teen in a gritty New Jersey neighborhood, she adopts a tough-girl persona, smoking, smacking her gum, teasing her hair four and a half inches out from her head. Moving on to young adulthood, she is "sexually liberated." (If, while reading along, a professor appears, a major cow patty lies just ahead.) (And no, no, no, I don't tell you these things so you can turn straight to them!) As she matures and gets more sensible, she meets others like herself, "2G," meaning the second generation after the survivors, and all of them are obsessed with their parents' concentration camp experiences. All of them create "art" with a concentration camp theme.
The House of the Seven Sisters by Elle Eggels is set in Holland. It's about a baker who abandons his seven daughters, leaving them to run the business. It spans WWII down to the '90s, yet it reads like a fairy tale, because so many characters are the butcher, the baker, the candle-stick maker. If they were cashiers, or system analysts, or HR people, it would definitely sound American and crisply modern. If you like stories that lead you from the narrator's childhood, wherein she tries to make sense of everything the older folks do, to her own days as a grandmother, and if you can keep the names of seven sisters straight, you might look up this one.
Finally, The Red Passport by Katherine Shonk, is another volume of short stories, this one set in post-Communist Russia. Americans wander through each story, and the Russians resent them for their excess of money, of leisure, of compassion. In one story, a grandmother moves back to her home near Chernobyl. She can't understand why her family tells her not to live there, why she can't eat those onions in her garden. Why, look at them! They've never grown so robustly before! Another story is about a mail-order bride, returning to care for a sick relative. Her young American daughter believes the fanciful stories her mother tells about how and why she departed Russia long ago. That is, until a Russian cousin reveals a few more details.
And finally a dessert so big, you're going to need to invite everybody you know over to help you eat it.
CHOCOLATEY FROZEN MINT DESSERT
2 c. crushed chocolate graham crackers, (about 20 squares)
1/3 c. margarine, melted
1/4 c. sugar
1/2 gal. mint chocolate chip ice cream, slightly softened
1 cups semisweet chocolate chips (or 1/2 c. semisweet and 1/2 c. milk chocolate)
1/3 c. margarine
1 c. powdered sugar
1 12 oz. can evaporated milk
1 tsp. vanilla
1 8 oz. container Cool Whip
1. In a bowl, combine crushed graham crumbs, 1/3 c. melted margarine & sugar. Press into bottom of a 15x10 baking pan. Chill in freezer for 15 min.
2. Cut ice cream into 1/2-in. thick slices and lay over the crumbs. Cover & return to freezer.
3. For chocolate sauce: in saucepan, melt chocolate and 1/3 c. margarine. Add powdered sugar and milk. Cook and stir for about 20-25 min. Add vanilla.
4. Pour sauce over ice cream and return to freezer for about 30 minutes or till firm.
5. Spread Cool Whip on top; freeze again until serving time. Makes 32 servings @ 240 cals each.
Sonia Pilcer wrote a volume of short stories The Holocaust Kid that sounds pretty autobiographical. She's the child of Holocaust survivors, so her Great Burden in life is that every time she complains about her teenage angst, her parents say, "What? You have it so hard? Is this why we survived, so you could turn out like this?" As a teen in a gritty New Jersey neighborhood, she adopts a tough-girl persona, smoking, smacking her gum, teasing her hair four and a half inches out from her head. Moving on to young adulthood, she is "sexually liberated." (If, while reading along, a professor appears, a major cow patty lies just ahead.) (And no, no, no, I don't tell you these things so you can turn straight to them!) As she matures and gets more sensible, she meets others like herself, "2G," meaning the second generation after the survivors, and all of them are obsessed with their parents' concentration camp experiences. All of them create "art" with a concentration camp theme.
The House of the Seven Sisters by Elle Eggels is set in Holland. It's about a baker who abandons his seven daughters, leaving them to run the business. It spans WWII down to the '90s, yet it reads like a fairy tale, because so many characters are the butcher, the baker, the candle-stick maker. If they were cashiers, or system analysts, or HR people, it would definitely sound American and crisply modern. If you like stories that lead you from the narrator's childhood, wherein she tries to make sense of everything the older folks do, to her own days as a grandmother, and if you can keep the names of seven sisters straight, you might look up this one.
Finally, The Red Passport by Katherine Shonk, is another volume of short stories, this one set in post-Communist Russia. Americans wander through each story, and the Russians resent them for their excess of money, of leisure, of compassion. In one story, a grandmother moves back to her home near Chernobyl. She can't understand why her family tells her not to live there, why she can't eat those onions in her garden. Why, look at them! They've never grown so robustly before! Another story is about a mail-order bride, returning to care for a sick relative. Her young American daughter believes the fanciful stories her mother tells about how and why she departed Russia long ago. That is, until a Russian cousin reveals a few more details.
And finally a dessert so big, you're going to need to invite everybody you know over to help you eat it.
CHOCOLATEY FROZEN MINT DESSERT
2 c. crushed chocolate graham crackers, (about 20 squares)
1/3 c. margarine, melted
1/4 c. sugar
1/2 gal. mint chocolate chip ice cream, slightly softened
1 cups semisweet chocolate chips (or 1/2 c. semisweet and 1/2 c. milk chocolate)
1/3 c. margarine
1 c. powdered sugar
1 12 oz. can evaporated milk
1 tsp. vanilla
1 8 oz. container Cool Whip
1. In a bowl, combine crushed graham crumbs, 1/3 c. melted margarine & sugar. Press into bottom of a 15x10 baking pan. Chill in freezer for 15 min.
2. Cut ice cream into 1/2-in. thick slices and lay over the crumbs. Cover & return to freezer.
3. For chocolate sauce: in saucepan, melt chocolate and 1/3 c. margarine. Add powdered sugar and milk. Cook and stir for about 20-25 min. Add vanilla.
4. Pour sauce over ice cream and return to freezer for about 30 minutes or till firm.
5. Spread Cool Whip on top; freeze again until serving time. Makes 32 servings @ 240 cals each.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Parade of books
-->
OK, it's been a while. And the Finished Book Pile stands pretty high. Let's clear it out before it falls over on one of the cats or something.
First up is Parade of Days by James Freeman. Freeman is aPennsylvania Allentown. He brought, America
Well. I would not help his good cause. But I would search for Parade in libraries and step lightly around the cow patties, as you must know I pretty well do.
Alas, not many pages into his book, I shut it for good. The first irritant was a certain over-formality, a common sin committed by several other writers in my critique group. Freeman's story tells about an odd little collection of humans that take up residence in the air ducts in the library atBucks County Community College Bucks County Community College Bucks County Community College
The second irritant was when the characters sat down for a snack on some of their stolen food. The old lady of the group, who could be as quirky as your local homeless shopping cart lady, or as normal and lovable as your pie-baking grandma (Freeman couldn't decide which version to go with) tells a story about a girl who bears a mulatto baby. Now, when your author stops his story to let one of his characters go, "There once was a . . . ", I suspect he is just stuffing the book with something he wanted to say but which doesn't fit into the plot. Or maybe it ties in somehow a few chapter ahead. Since I knew, however, that the chapters ahead contained cow patties and since I felt like I had exercised enough patience with amateur writing, I put Freeman away. His original idea sounded promising. It just didn't lift off the runway.
Next up is Coupon Girl by Becky Motew. This book is apparently part of a series called "Making It," stories about young career girls. Coupon Girl was such a fun read, as well as a peek into an unfamiliar world, that I'm tempted to add the other titles to my list. Jeanie, the main character, sells advertising promotions, or coupons. She pays visits to all the local characters--the orthodontists, the pizza makers, the ice cream scoopers and talks them into running a buy-four-get-one-free promotion, or whatever. Meanwhile, she tries out for a local production of The Sound of Music. Egos and mishaps abound.
Now when I open up the mail and find coupons for tooth whitening and carpet cleaning, I know that somebody had to walk in that business and convince the owner to offer a deal, that the owner hopes the offer will attract new customers.
Third up is High Lonesome: The American Culture of Country Music by Cecelia Tichi. Which is just what it says, plus photos of the country stars. For the bulk of the book, Tichi waxes on about what country music says about "the American culture of loneliness" or the romance of cowboys, or the tension between home and making it out there in the big wide world, or even roses. Is she reading things into these songs that aren't there? I'm not sure, but she convinced me to give Emmylou Harris a try. Her book includes a CD, showcasing many of the artists she talks about.
My favorite part of Tichi's book was an interview section. She focused on artists that came to country from some other form of music--opera, rock, classical violin. Country artists, if you ask them about their craft, claim they just come by it naturally (then complain later that no one takes country seriously because it's so natural that there's no skill involved). Tichi argues that of course it take great skill, but artists immersed in country their whole lives have a hard time explaining their skills. On the other hand, artists who come from a different genre are like people who have lived in two cultures. They are more able to define and compare..
So, now we have cleared out half of the pile. We'll get to the rest in a few days. Meanwhile, here's your recipe. It’s shamefully easy, the kind of thing you can prepare while you’re still groggy from your Sunday nap: Chicken Broccoli Shells
First up is Parade of Days by James Freeman. Freeman is a
Well. I would not help his good cause. But I would search for Parade in libraries and step lightly around the cow patties, as you must know I pretty well do.
Alas, not many pages into his book, I shut it for good. The first irritant was a certain over-formality, a common sin committed by several other writers in my critique group. Freeman's story tells about an odd little collection of humans that take up residence in the air ducts in the library at
The second irritant was when the characters sat down for a snack on some of their stolen food. The old lady of the group, who could be as quirky as your local homeless shopping cart lady, or as normal and lovable as your pie-baking grandma (Freeman couldn't decide which version to go with) tells a story about a girl who bears a mulatto baby. Now, when your author stops his story to let one of his characters go, "There once was a . . . ", I suspect he is just stuffing the book with something he wanted to say but which doesn't fit into the plot. Or maybe it ties in somehow a few chapter ahead. Since I knew, however, that the chapters ahead contained cow patties and since I felt like I had exercised enough patience with amateur writing, I put Freeman away. His original idea sounded promising. It just didn't lift off the runway.
Next up is Coupon Girl by Becky Motew. This book is apparently part of a series called "Making It," stories about young career girls. Coupon Girl was such a fun read, as well as a peek into an unfamiliar world, that I'm tempted to add the other titles to my list. Jeanie, the main character, sells advertising promotions, or coupons. She pays visits to all the local characters--the orthodontists, the pizza makers, the ice cream scoopers and talks them into running a buy-four-get-one-free promotion, or whatever. Meanwhile, she tries out for a local production of The Sound of Music. Egos and mishaps abound.
Now when I open up the mail and find coupons for tooth whitening and carpet cleaning, I know that somebody had to walk in that business and convince the owner to offer a deal, that the owner hopes the offer will attract new customers.
Third up is High Lonesome: The American Culture of Country Music by Cecelia Tichi. Which is just what it says, plus photos of the country stars. For the bulk of the book, Tichi waxes on about what country music says about "the American culture of loneliness" or the romance of cowboys, or the tension between home and making it out there in the big wide world, or even roses. Is she reading things into these songs that aren't there? I'm not sure, but she convinced me to give Emmylou Harris a try. Her book includes a CD, showcasing many of the artists she talks about.
My favorite part of Tichi's book was an interview section. She focused on artists that came to country from some other form of music--opera, rock, classical violin. Country artists, if you ask them about their craft, claim they just come by it naturally (then complain later that no one takes country seriously because it's so natural that there's no skill involved). Tichi argues that of course it take great skill, but artists immersed in country their whole lives have a hard time explaining their skills. On the other hand, artists who come from a different genre are like people who have lived in two cultures. They are more able to define and compare..
So, now we have cleared out half of the pile. We'll get to the rest in a few days. Meanwhile, here's your recipe. It’s shamefully easy, the kind of thing you can prepare while you’re still groggy from your Sunday nap: Chicken Broccoli Shells
Friday, June 19, 2009
Warning: Gooey
This will have to be quick. I'd rather be outside in heavy traffic on this nearly 90-degree day.
Actually, no that doesn't sound so good. But I've got to return a book to Carmel and, if I can fit it in, hunt for some Nutella. Abbey has been bragging on it. Mercy says it's "rilly, rilly good!" Carmel is the sort of town where the grocery stores might stock this exotic stuff and we do want to know what the fuss it about, don't we?
So, here's your recipe for this installment: Chocolate Caramel Cupcakes
Warning: These are really gooey. We made messes on our fingers, our faces, the table, our laps, and we are adults here. I can just imagine what might happen to children.
Our dinner guest, John's widowed home teaching partner, was very smart. He ate his with a fork. He must get invited to dinner a lot, because he sure knows how to handle Tricky Foods.
Over on the Finished Book Pile, we have now put Alvin Journeyman, book 4 of Orson Scott Card's Alvin Maker series behind us. Loved the judge in the trial scenes. Some great character development all through the town of Hatrack River. Loved the nasty, jealous brother, Calvin (not his nastiness, just for the drama he created). However, I just have not warmed up to Peggy. Last time I liked her was in Book 2. I can't give away what happened to her in Book 3, but read it yourself and tell me whether you agree or not.
Also, every time the story veers toward the Red Man, I say to myself, "Huh? What? How much longer do I have to put up with this?"
Actually, no that doesn't sound so good. But I've got to return a book to Carmel and, if I can fit it in, hunt for some Nutella. Abbey has been bragging on it. Mercy says it's "rilly, rilly good!" Carmel is the sort of town where the grocery stores might stock this exotic stuff and we do want to know what the fuss it about, don't we?
So, here's your recipe for this installment: Chocolate Caramel Cupcakes
Warning: These are really gooey. We made messes on our fingers, our faces, the table, our laps, and we are adults here. I can just imagine what might happen to children.
Our dinner guest, John's widowed home teaching partner, was very smart. He ate his with a fork. He must get invited to dinner a lot, because he sure knows how to handle Tricky Foods.
Over on the Finished Book Pile, we have now put Alvin Journeyman, book 4 of Orson Scott Card's Alvin Maker series behind us. Loved the judge in the trial scenes. Some great character development all through the town of Hatrack River. Loved the nasty, jealous brother, Calvin (not his nastiness, just for the drama he created). However, I just have not warmed up to Peggy. Last time I liked her was in Book 2. I can't give away what happened to her in Book 3, but read it yourself and tell me whether you agree or not.
Also, every time the story veers toward the Red Man, I say to myself, "Huh? What? How much longer do I have to put up with this?"
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
With WALL-E Staring at Me
I feel like you're right here with me. John must have dug through one of the moving boxes. He found the webcam and now it perches here on the computer monitor, giving me the creeps. But hey, I decent, so what am I worried about?
I guess I like my buddy, The Governess, my GPS. We go places together. She talks to me. She doesn't stare at me, all perky and eager-looking, like WALL-E here.
Anyway, today we feature a dinner that may have tasted good on its own merits on Sunday. Or maybe it was just because we were starved from fasting.
Greek Ham Wraps
I wasn't sure I would like these wraps, owing to the feta cheese. The first time I tasted feta, I decided I certainly wouldn't send any troops to invade Greece just to get more of it. \
The picture in Quick Cooking Magazine added a fancy tie made from a strand of green onion. But even when I am not starving, I can't be bothered with that kind of thing. Calories, for those of you that care, come in at 395.
Raspberry Cream Cheese Bars
We cannot have treats like these sitting around calling to us, so we boxed up a bunch and walked them over to the neighbor's house. Time to reciprocate for the brownies she brought after we moved in. She was setting up a "workout center" in her basement, something she got for free from a friend. If our stunning blonde neighbor works out, then she and her family can afford to help us eat up these dangerous treats.
Over on the Finished Book Pile, we attempted The Jane Austen Book Club by Karen Fowler. Readers have to know Austen's books pretty well to keep up with what the characters discuss at their club meetings. The author included synopses and reviews on Austen in the back of the book, which might have helped me. But anyway, not long into the book, the ground got thickly littered with cow patties, so much that there really was no place to step for awhile. Sigh. Do we even care about these characters? I asked myself. No, we do not. So we gave it up.
Then we moved on to Prentice Alvin, #3 in Orson Scott Card's Alvin Maker series. This one includes runaway slaves, deep dark peril for Alvin, unfair/misguided masters, brawling married couples, lots more stuff to pique the interest of LDS readers, and some very nice moments of dialogue between the crusty supporting characters. Oh, and we get hints of love and longing. Alvin is growing up, after all.
Sometimes Card gets a little too talky, but we will forgive him and move on to book #4.
I guess I like my buddy, The Governess, my GPS. We go places together. She talks to me. She doesn't stare at me, all perky and eager-looking, like WALL-E here.
Anyway, today we feature a dinner that may have tasted good on its own merits on Sunday. Or maybe it was just because we were starved from fasting.
Greek Ham Wraps
I wasn't sure I would like these wraps, owing to the feta cheese. The first time I tasted feta, I decided I certainly wouldn't send any troops to invade Greece just to get more of it. \
The picture in Quick Cooking Magazine added a fancy tie made from a strand of green onion. But even when I am not starving, I can't be bothered with that kind of thing. Calories, for those of you that care, come in at 395.
Raspberry Cream Cheese Bars
We cannot have treats like these sitting around calling to us, so we boxed up a bunch and walked them over to the neighbor's house. Time to reciprocate for the brownies she brought after we moved in. She was setting up a "workout center" in her basement, something she got for free from a friend. If our stunning blonde neighbor works out, then she and her family can afford to help us eat up these dangerous treats.
Over on the Finished Book Pile, we attempted The Jane Austen Book Club by Karen Fowler. Readers have to know Austen's books pretty well to keep up with what the characters discuss at their club meetings. The author included synopses and reviews on Austen in the back of the book, which might have helped me. But anyway, not long into the book, the ground got thickly littered with cow patties, so much that there really was no place to step for awhile. Sigh. Do we even care about these characters? I asked myself. No, we do not. So we gave it up.
Then we moved on to Prentice Alvin, #3 in Orson Scott Card's Alvin Maker series. This one includes runaway slaves, deep dark peril for Alvin, unfair/misguided masters, brawling married couples, lots more stuff to pique the interest of LDS readers, and some very nice moments of dialogue between the crusty supporting characters. Oh, and we get hints of love and longing. Alvin is growing up, after all.
Sometimes Card gets a little too talky, but we will forgive him and move on to book #4.
Monday, June 1, 2009
From Our Southern Kin
I'm about to reveal to you one of my best secrets.
Down there in Isonville, Kentucky, they've got a volunteer fire department to mind those little flare-ups that happen when, say, somebody tosses a cigarette out of his truck and it lands in the woods at the roadside. To earn money for a new (probably used) pumper truck or some hoses or something, they have to do a little fund-raising.
Enter Kristen, long-lost relative, in the year they sold their Isonville Volunteer Fire Dept. #889 cookbooks. What do our southern relatives eat? Escalloped Summer Squash, Red Velvet Cake, Kenney's Home Fries and lots of the same Cool-Whip-and-pudding desserts that the rest of us like.
Headlining the "Bread, Rolls, Pies, and Pastry" section is a little treasure called Angel Flake Biscuits:
5 cups all-purpose flour
3 tsp. baking powder
3 TB sugar
1 tsp. soda
1 tsp. salt
3/4 cups vegetable shortening
1/2 cup lukewarm water
2 cups buttermilk
Sift together into mixing bowl, flour, baking powder, sugar, soda and salt. Cut in shortening. Dissolve yeast in lukewarm water; add to flour mixture. Then add buttermilk. Work together with large spoon until all flour is moistened. Cover bowl; store in refrigerator. When ready to use take out amount desired. Roll out on floured board to 1/2 inch thickness. Cut with biscuit cutter. Place on greased cookie sheet. Bake 12 minutes in 400' oven. NOTE (theirs): This recipe makes 6 dozen light, flaky biscuits. The dough will keep for several weeks in the refrigerator.
NOTE (mine): I thought they liked big biscuits down there. If it makes 6 dozen, they must be no bigger than Whoppers. When I make them, they are big and sweet and puffy and kind of hard to stay away from. Anyway, for those of you that care, divide 3,875 by the number of biscuits you get, and there's your calories.
Grandma Ison once lamented that she could never make light fluffy biscuits like her mother could. I sent her this recipe and even some brand-new biscuits cutters with handles on them like they have at McDonald's and I think all of it promptly got lost and forgotten in one of her drawers. Anybody willing to dig out the cutters and make these for her?
Over on the Finished Book Pile, we have Red Prophet by Orson Scott Card, the second book in the Alvin Maker series. This one required more patience. "Harsher, bleaker and more mystical than Seventh Son," said one reviewer. Quite true.
I had to endure a great deal of Red Man talk about White Man bad, kill the land, go back on boat where come from. And I can't help but read a book as if were already a movie, which makes me puzzle over how the actor is going to say lines like "This is the oath of the land at peace" without wishing he'd been called up for a Pepsi commercial instead.
Despite all the magic, Card's story follows history and geography closely enough that I'm apt to open my next history book and feel shocked that certain real-life players died after certain real-life battles. "No, no! Alvin healed him!"
But I'm sticking with the series. It's all going somewhere. Right, Melanie?
Down there in Isonville, Kentucky, they've got a volunteer fire department to mind those little flare-ups that happen when, say, somebody tosses a cigarette out of his truck and it lands in the woods at the roadside. To earn money for a new (probably used) pumper truck or some hoses or something, they have to do a little fund-raising.
Enter Kristen, long-lost relative, in the year they sold their Isonville Volunteer Fire Dept. #889 cookbooks. What do our southern relatives eat? Escalloped Summer Squash, Red Velvet Cake, Kenney's Home Fries and lots of the same Cool-Whip-and-pudding desserts that the rest of us like.
Headlining the "Bread, Rolls, Pies, and Pastry" section is a little treasure called Angel Flake Biscuits:
5 cups all-purpose flour
3 tsp. baking powder
3 TB sugar
1 tsp. soda
1 tsp. salt
3/4 cups vegetable shortening
1/2 cup lukewarm water
2 cups buttermilk
Sift together into mixing bowl, flour, baking powder, sugar, soda and salt. Cut in shortening. Dissolve yeast in lukewarm water; add to flour mixture. Then add buttermilk. Work together with large spoon until all flour is moistened. Cover bowl; store in refrigerator. When ready to use take out amount desired. Roll out on floured board to 1/2 inch thickness. Cut with biscuit cutter. Place on greased cookie sheet. Bake 12 minutes in 400' oven. NOTE (theirs): This recipe makes 6 dozen light, flaky biscuits. The dough will keep for several weeks in the refrigerator.
NOTE (mine): I thought they liked big biscuits down there. If it makes 6 dozen, they must be no bigger than Whoppers. When I make them, they are big and sweet and puffy and kind of hard to stay away from. Anyway, for those of you that care, divide 3,875 by the number of biscuits you get, and there's your calories.
Grandma Ison once lamented that she could never make light fluffy biscuits like her mother could. I sent her this recipe and even some brand-new biscuits cutters with handles on them like they have at McDonald's and I think all of it promptly got lost and forgotten in one of her drawers. Anybody willing to dig out the cutters and make these for her?
Over on the Finished Book Pile, we have Red Prophet by Orson Scott Card, the second book in the Alvin Maker series. This one required more patience. "Harsher, bleaker and more mystical than Seventh Son," said one reviewer. Quite true.
I had to endure a great deal of Red Man talk about White Man bad, kill the land, go back on boat where come from. And I can't help but read a book as if were already a movie, which makes me puzzle over how the actor is going to say lines like "This is the oath of the land at peace" without wishing he'd been called up for a Pepsi commercial instead.
Despite all the magic, Card's story follows history and geography closely enough that I'm apt to open my next history book and feel shocked that certain real-life players died after certain real-life battles. "No, no! Alvin healed him!"
But I'm sticking with the series. It's all going somewhere. Right, Melanie?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)