Labor-pain reading

Been plowing through the books so fast lately (there are a lot of days I don't even leave the house. Go away snow!) that I think I've probably forgotten about some of them.

I read Go Down, Moses by William Faulkner, on recommendation of my professor from last semester. Faulkner's sentences go round and round and on down the page and I feel so bad that I'm not enjoying this terribly famous writer but, honestly, if you drove the way Faulkner writes, all the side trips and circles around the block and 7-point U-turns would get you to your appointment a week late.

The professor also recommended Love Medicine by Louise Erdrich, a collection of short stories that's actually called a novel. It portrays a couple Chippewa families in North Dakota that are poised halfway between life on the Rez and life in the city. Liked it much better than Faulkner, especially the title story.

Through the long night of Mercy's labor, I advanced through Therapy by Jonathan Kellerman. 'Twas a murder mystery, a very serviceable one, though the plot threads got a bit unwieldy towards the end. How do these authors keep all the suspects straight, especially if they have too many? Walls covered with Post-It Notes?

Currently reading American Spy, the memoirs of Howard Hunt, who served in the CIA. Did you know most CIA people are Ivy League graduates? Yep, they do a little para-trooping, a little propagandizing, then become a general or a cabinet secretary or something other important person. You just don't have the connections to get in if you got educated at Wayneville State U or someplace like that. But I'm not bitter. I don't want to be in the CIA. I couldn't take the tension of flying over the Himalayas into strange lands (as the plane coughs and lurches from lack of oxygen), wondering if my contact might murder me and figuring out how to turn Latin Americans against their current dictator.

Besides, I don't think spies get to spend a lot of time playing in the kitchen, which you must know is important to me. To that end, I share with you:  French Onion Pan Rolls

Eat them with soup. Then, when the onion-and-cheese stuff falls off--and it will--the soup catches it and tastes even better. Two rolls = 375 cals.

Rich boys

I had the happy accident this week of watching a movie that illuminated a book I had just read. I planned a nice mid-winter goof-off day in which I ate cookies and cashews, drank hot chocolate and watched a Tivo-ed "Sabrina," with Julia Ormond, Harrison Ford, and Greg Kinnear. As Ford and Kinnear, the rich brothers, traded barbs about who worked too much and who worked not at all, Dynasties by David Landes, came to life.

Landes wrote about famous-name family businesses (think Rothschilds, Fords, Guggenheims) and how they fared from generation to generation. Truthfully, much of the book was out of my depth as he talked about joint stock capitalization and Vichy France. But I got glimpses of personality here and there:

If Grandpa starts a bank, or invents a car, or strikes oil, who among his sons and grandsons will possess the talent AND the interest to keep the enterprise going? Just like in the movie, plenty of descendants would rather use all that wealth just for playing.

Would be a lovely temptation, no?

Now, when it comes to this installment's recipe, I debated whether to give you something workaday and practical, or something so yummy that you will blame the failure of your New Year's resolution on me. So I decided on both. You've probably already broken your resolutions anyway.

First the practical: SPICY BEEF AND VEGETABLE SOUP
1 lb. ground beef
1 cup chopped onion
1 jar (30 oz.) meatless spaghetti sauce
3 1/2 c. water
1 pkg (16 oz.) frozen mixed vegetables
1 can (10 oz.) diced tomatoes & green chilies
1 c. sliced celery
1 tsp. beef bouillon granules
1 tsp. pepper

In skillet over medium heat, cook beef & onion until meat is no longer pink; drain. Transfer to slow cooler. Stir in remaining ingredients. Cover and cook on low for 8 hours or until vegetables are tender. YIELD: 12 servings, 160 cals. each.

This was really great to come home to after feeling the nasty, icy wind that blew across the Wal-Mart parking lot this afternoon. We ate the soup with garlic bread from the bread machine.

Now, just so you don't overdose on nutritious stuff, I offer you BYU MINT BROWNIES.
1 c. margarine
1/2 c. cocoa
2 TB honey
4 eggs
2 c. sugar
1 3/4 c. flour
1/2 TB baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
Mint Icing (See step #2)
12 oz. chocolate icing (canned)

1. Melt margarine and mix in cocoa. Allow to cool. Add honey, eggs, sugar, flour, baking powder and salt. Mix well. Pour batter into a greased 9x13-in. baking pan. Bake at 350' for 25 minutes. Cool.
2. Prepare Mint Icing: Soften 5 TB margarine. Add dash of salt, 1 TB light corn syrup, & 2 1/3 c. powdered sugar. Beat until smooth and fluffy. Add 1/2 tsp. mint extract & 1-2 drops green food coloring. Mix. Add 3 TB milk gradually until the consistency is a little thinner than cake frosting.
3. Spread mint icing over brownies. Place brownies in the freezer for a short time to stiffen the icing. Remove from the freezer and carefully add a layer of chocolate icing.
If you cut the finished brownies into 24 pieces, each has 310 calories.

I know, I know, I gave you Peppermint Cream Brownies in the last post. But you really can't have too much of a good thing. Besides those were just gateway mint brownies. These are the hardcore stuff.

I made them for Mercy's baby shower. We needed two pans for the ladies. And of course, what would my husband think if I made these and didn't leave any for him? What would Jim think if I stayed at his house the night before, carrying these lovely treats, and none for him?

Well, Jim made it clear what he would think. So I made a third pan.

In the end, we had so many brownies that, even after I packaged up a nice personal stash of them, I was still giving them away to friends and begging John to take some to bishopric meeting.

The other food at the shower was a great big green and brown cake. (You can sense a color theme here, can't you?) It was a German chocolate cake, frosted with ganache, a smooth icing that hardens into a shell, and embellished with green fondant, rolled and cut out to look like ribbons on a present.

It was a sugar-lover's party, oh yes.

Illegal Food

I just finished Plenty by Alisa Smith and J. B. MacKinnon. The authors, a couple from Vancouver, spent a year eating only foods that came from a 100-mile radius of where they lived.

That would make me illegal by their rules. Am I prepared to do without chocolate chips? Cool Ranch Doritos? Lean Cuisine? Even if the authors claim that your average meal travels 1500 miles to get to your table? Not until I really, really have to. I myself am not about to scour the countryside, finding the local growers of squashes and nuts and honey. I already know some of the tyrannies of agricultural life (and it sure was funny to see the authors discover this. "Hey, James, we've got 160 lbs. of sweet corn here! Um, James, that lady said we have to shuck it, blanch it, cut it off the cob and freeze it tonight or it won't be any good." They stay up until 2 to finish the job. And what does this do to their relationship? Read the book and find out!) and I kind of like the predictability of a life lived closer to sidewalks than pastures.

I agree, there's some screwy things about our food system. Maybe I'll visit my local farmers' market and buy my green peppers there.

The variety of foods produced in lush and moody British Columbia was amazing. About the only illegal item they had to use was salt. Eventually, they learned how to make it: fill a pot with sea water, boil until dry and there's your salt.

It helped that James (or J.B.) was able to whip up stunning meals by looking at whatever food lay within reach and blending it together into something memorable and delicious. The closest I can come to that is what I had to do last week when the snow piled up and I didn't want to dig out and go to the grocery store. I was supposed to feed the missionaries so I had to come up with something filling, using only what was already in the house. Here's what showed up on the table:

CREAMY DIJON PASTA WITH VEGETABLES
6 oz. tube pasta
6 oz. cream cheese, at room temperature (like when do I ever have that laying around? But I did last Friday.)
1/2 cup milk
1 1/2 to 2 TB dijon mustard
1 cups diced cooked ham or chicken (I used chicken)
1 (16 oz.) package frozen broccoli, carrots, and cauliflower, thawed and drained
1 (4 1/2 oz.) jar sliced mushrooms, drained (oops, didn't have that. So what.)
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. pepper
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese

1. In a large pot of boiling salted water, cook tube pasta until just tender, 10 to 12 minutes. Drain well.
2. Add cream cheese and milk to pot. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until cream cheese is melted and well blended with milk. Add pasta and toss to coat.
3. Reduce heat to medium-low. Stir in mustard, meat, vegetables, salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are very hot and crisp-tender, 5 to 7 minutes. Serve topped with a sprinkling of grated Parmesan cheese. Serves 4, 495 cals. each. From 365 Easy One-Dish Dinners.

To round out the meal, I made homemade bread. (I had the time, stuck at home and all that.) and Peppermint Cream Brownies: Mix 1 batch of cake-like brownies. Bake in two 9x13 pans that have been lined with wax paper, then greased and floured. Shorten the baking time because these layers are thinner. After the brownies cool, frost one layer with Peppermint Cream Frosting: Mix together 4 TB soft butter, 2 cups confectioner's sugar, 2 TB milk, couples dashes of red food color, 1/4 tsp. peppermint extract, 4 tsp. white corn syrup and a couples dashes of salt. {Place the unfrosted layer on top of the frosting, cut and then try no to eat too many of these. Should yield about 36 pieces at 140 cals ea. From the same disintegrating cookbook that gave us Chocolate Marshmallow Pudding, the founding recipe of this blog.

Next up: Redneck Nation by Michael Graham. The author grew up in South Carolina, hated the Bubba-ness of it all and fled to the North. But what did he find up there? A nation whose favorite sport is NASCAR, who watches reality shows on TV where people eat pig rectums, who is overly race-conscious. Hmmm, said he, sounds way too much like where ah cum frum.

Next up: She's Come Undone by Wally Lamb. Many cow patties, but I excuse most of them because I could see most of them clearly enough to step around them (except for the language) and because the author of this novel worked it all into the growth of the character. The story follows a girl from age 4 to 40, through her confusing childhood, her grossly obese teen and young adult years and her getting-it-together adulthood. I really enjoyed the journey.

Next up: One Foot in Eden by Ron Rash. This is Rash's first novel and it shows, a little. A murder takes place in up-country Appalachia. The book is firmly divided into sections: the sheriff's story, the husband's, the wife's, the son's etc. I had the sense of covering the same territory four or five times, but from different angles. A more skillful writer could have woven these threads closer together. Which is not to say I didn't like the book. I enjoyed the Appalachian lingo. I felt bad for the hard luck of the characters, whose were going to lose their land anyway when a new reservoir covered it all up.

Well, that's all for now. Talk to you again soon, unless a new grandbaby throws me off my schedule.

Please Try

Tonight, let's start with the Carson Christmas plate, part 2, in which we feature: Homemade Snickers!

This takes all day, sort of. You make it in four layers, taking time between each layer to let things set.

Chocolate Caramel Candy

Even better the second day. If they last that long.


I'm cheating on the Finished Book Pile, since it's taking me quite a long time to finish our featured selection: Model by Michael Gross. It's nonfiction, "the ugly business of beautiful women," weighing in at just under 500 pages.

The fun parts are the discovery stories of all these posing beauties; also a little bit about how modeling agencies started. John Robert Powers was an out-of-work actor who found himself running a clearing house for movie extras. He suddenly thought, "Hey, there are commercial photographers out there looking for models. And I know dozens of out-of-work actors and actresses. Why not bring them together?"

The book also details the wars between modeling agencies, stealing one another's girls. In fact, too much detail. Sometimes I get the feel that every paragraph equals an author's note card (must have been 3200 miles of note cards, laid end to end) and he tells me about agents, photographers, editors, names names names of people I never knew or needed to know.

But here I am, sticking with it. Right now, I'm in the '70s, where everybody is snorting coke while they work, although I notice that many of the real supermodels stayed away from the drugs, which seemed to contribute to the longevity of their careers. At any rate, a great deal of mischief goes on, but doesn't count as cow patties, because it is rendered such a reporter-like tone. And as the book progresses through the years, the pay rates keep going up, from $5/hr in the '30s to $25,000/day in the mid-'90s.

Even though I'm taken with the tarnished glamour of it all, I think one retired agent summed it up best when she said (and I paraphrase) We put these magazine pictures before the public and say, You will never look like this, but please try.

Forty Wiped Out

I look forward to Natalie coming over tomorrow. The plan is to make and bake Christmas treats.

The problem? Food doesn't sound good right now.

Our ward had a Christmas party last Friday night. It was a Night in Bethlehem, with people dressed in biblical clothing, walking around the "market," getting sandwiches, fruit, hard-boiled eggs, olives at the different booths.

After the party, everybody was healthy just long enough to speak and sing at the Saturday night session of stake conference. Then they started going down, a regular roll-call through the ward list, reports of this family and that stuck at home, throwing up. According to the bishop's count, forty people got sick.

It hit John pretty hard. I caught an extremely light version a couple days later(I didn't eat anything but a brownie at the party) but I still don't want to do anything but languish. All the Christmas treats that I'm usually dying to eat are a big "meh" to me right now.

However, you may be feel like gorging. So I offer you The Carson Christmas Treat Plate, part 1.

SUGAR COOKIES, big batch
2 cups margarine, softened
2 cups granulated sugar
3 eggs
2 tsp. vanilla
1 tsp. lemon extract
6 cups flour
1 tsp. baking soda

In a large bowl, cream butter adn sugar. Beat in eggs, vanilla and lemon extract until light and fluffy. In a large bowl, combine flour adn baking soda. Gradually stir flour mixture into egg mixture until blended.

Chill dough (or divide in four parts, form into logs, wrap in wax paper, then tin foil and freeze for up to 6 months). Roll out dough and cut into shapes. Bake on greased cookies sheets, at 350' for 8-10 minutes.

The big secrets are to keep from handling the dough too much with your hands, and to roll kinda thick. We frost our with Vanilla Butter Frosting (see the Memorial Day entry) and throw red and green sprinkles on top.

CARDAMOM COFFEE BREAD or, really good braided bread.
2 pkg. active dry yeast
1/2 cup warm water (105'- 115')
1 tsp. sugar
1 12-oz. can evaporated milk
7 to 8 cups flour
1/2 to 1 cups sugar
1 1/2 tsp. ground cardamom (this is a Scandinavian spice; don't skimp out on it)
4 eggs, room temperature (warm them up in a measuring cup of hottish water)
2 tsp. salt
1/2 cup butter, melted
1 slightly beaten egg
2 TB. milk

In a large mixer bowl, dissolve yeast in warm water. Stir in 1 tsp. sugar adn let stand for 5 minutes.
Heat milk to 105'- 115'. Add milk, half the flour, 1/2 to 1 cup sugar, cardamom, 4 eggs and salt to the yeast. Beat with electric mixer till smooth. Beat in the butter.
Stir in as much remaining flour as you can with a spoon. Cover; let rest 15 minutes. Turn out onto a floured surface. Knead in enough remaining flour to make a moderately stiff dough that's smooth and elastic.
Place in greased bowl, turn to grease surface. Cover and let rise in a warm place till doubled (1 to 1 1/2 hours). Punch down dough. Turn dough onto cutting board; divide into 3 portions. Divide each portion into 3rds. Shape each piece into a 24-inch rope.
Using 3 ropes each, shape into 3 braided loaves; tuck under ends. Place on lightly greased baking sheets. Cover and let rise till doubled (about 1 hour).
Mix egg and milk; brush over braids. Bake in 375' oven for 20 minutes or till golden. Makes 3 loaves. This freezes well.

One of my college roommates learned to make this on her mission to Finland. One night, she made it at our apartment, then went off on a date with her fiance. Um, there wasn't much left when she returned.

I never got the recipe from her, but I saw this one in a magazine years later. Comes close enough. Goes fast at our house.

As for the Finished Book Pile, we have Angry Housewives Eating Bon-Bons by Lorna Landvik. This is one of those novels that follows the characters for years. Five women form a book club in Minnesota and the reader watches the ladies go from idealistic young wives to wise, mature women. One character takes on all kinds of '60s causes, marching in protests, fighting for Social Justice in every conceivable corner. She's tiresome until she mellows out later. Cow patty count is medium low.

Then there's Saturday by Ian McEwan. This isn't McEwan's best book. He's famous for Atonement but this one will do as a fairly clean, upper-crust story. Having just been through a writing class where the professor railed against "static action," (that's the stuff the character does every day,i.e. he got up, he shaved, he ate breakfast) and urged us on to dynamic action, upsetting the order of things, making the characters more miserable with every page turn, I wonder how McEwan's manuscript would have fared in this class. Yeah, a couple big things happen in the story, but there's a lot of what he had for breakfast and how the city square outside his lovely London house always looks. Hey, I kinda like that stuff. And if you're curious about brain surgery, you get to go into the operating room with the main character and look over his shoulder as he "cooks the nerve by radioactive thermocoagulation" and a dozen or so other goodies like that.

If I were there . . .

Hi, class is done. I'm back.

I don't think anybody is in the mood for a book review right now, so we'll skip it this time.

But we can still talk about food.

If Hertha's sisters could manage to gather Hertha's children for a talk-it-out session this week, and if I could be there, here's what I would feed everybody. It was comfort food and then some when John and I ate it the day after Thanksgiving: Cheesy Chicken Subs

Hiatus

Hey folks,

This blog is suspended until the middle of December. I'm taking a writing class. I'm swamped. I've got to let a couple things go and this is one of them.

See you then.