verbatim

Git Yer Cookbooks Here!

I have half a dozen potential blog posts in my brain but no time to get them out onto the keyboard, so I'll just dash off this quick one now. Here is the latest batch of cookbooks I edited, hot off the press!

First up is Paleo Planet by first-timer cookbook author Becky Winkler. It's easy to imagine that Paleo food has to be just a hunk of meat on a plate, but Winkler shows how you can prepare exciting, varied meals from around the globe that follow Paleo principles (in a nutshell: grain-free, dairy-free, legume-free, and a few other -free's, but the author is refreshingly un-bossy about it all). As you know, I am not a Paleo gal, but there are plenty of recipes in here that I would make in a heartbeat. (No one has to know whether I serve them with a hunk of bread.)

Bill and Cheryl Jamison's Barbecue Lover's Big Book of BBQ Sauces delivers on its subtitle's promise of "225 Extraordinary Sauces, Rubs, Marinades, Mops, Bastes, Pastes, and Salsas, for Smoke-Cooking or Grilling.") Bon Appétit crowned the Jamisons "the king and queen of grilling and smoking" for a reason—4 of their 18 cookbooks have won James Beard awards. This was the third book I did with Bill and Cheryl, and they were always such a pleasure to work with. I was really sad to learn in March of Bill's death. I never met him in person, but by all accounts he had a larger than life personality and a huge heart.

Next up is Good Cheap Eats: Dinner in 30 Minutes or Less by Jessica Fisher. This is a follow-up to last year's Good Cheap Eats: Everyday Dinners and Fantastic Feasts for $10 or Less. Whereas the first one was geared to families wanting to eat well on a budget, this one focuses on getting dinner on the table now. Fisher and her husband have six kids, so you can bet she knows a thing or two about saving a few bucks and a few minutes whenever she can. Both books offer entire menus if you are having one of those days when you can't possibly be creative, but obviously you can mix and match to your heart's content. Fisher favors fresh, whole foods, and streamlined preparations.

Finally, a book I'm especially dying to dig into now that the weather is getting chilly: Dinner Pies by Ken Haedrich, aka "Dean" of the Pie Academy. The subtitle on this one is "From Shepherd’s Pies and Pot Pies to Tarts, Turnovers, Quiches, Hand Pies, and More," so really anything you can wrap in crust counts as pie in Haedrich's book. He has all the usual suspects, plus some more inventive variations, and his basic techniques and strategies can be used for just about anything you can dream up that you want to turn into a dinner pie. Yum. 

Shcarole!

One of the items I made in last Saturday's cooking class was something I'd never made before: escarole. I think the only way I've ever had escarole at all is in soup. It is bitter, although we learned that shade-grown escarole, which is lighter in color, is less bitter. I made this recipe the other night to go with our chicken. The escarole I bought was quite dark, and thus pretty bitter, but I find that goes nicely with a rich main course. And it couldn't be easier to make.

Escarole with Pancetta

1 head escarole
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 ounces pancetta, chopped (I should have gone to Trader Joe's, because they have those nice packages of diced pancetta, but instead I got sliced pancetta at Whole Foods, which I then tried to chop but sort of ended up shredding. It turned out fine. It is pancetta, after all.)
2 or 3 garlic cloves, minced
½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes, optional (I omitted this, because on Saturday I found it just too hot and spicy.)
¼ cup dry white wine

Cut the escarole in half lengthwise and remove the darkest outer leaves. Trim off the first inch or so from the tops of the remaining leaves. Cut the escarole cross-wise into about 1-inch strips, right down until you get to the stem. Submerge the leaves in cold water and agitate to remove any loose dirt. Drain and gently shake to remove excess water. Set aside.

Heat the olive oil in a large sauté pan over medium-high heat. Add the pancetta and sauté until golden brown, 4 to 5 minutes. Remove the pancetta with a slotted spoon and set aside. Try not to eat it all. (In the class, we took the pan off the heat at this point too and set it aside until we were almost ready to eat. The escarole cooks up fast, so it makes a great last-minute side dish.) 

Return the pan to medium heat and add the garlic and red pepper flakes (if using). Cook until aromatic, about 2 minutes. Add the escarole and white wine. Cook, tossing occasionally, until the escarole is tender and wilted, about 10 minutes. Season with salt and pepper, garnish with the reserved pancetta, and serve.

Mmm ... Donuts ...

As promised, here is a representative sample of the truly wonderful chocolate-glazed donuts that Julie made over the weekend. 

Professional-looking, right? And I promise you that I did not supervise Julie at all during the entire process. The recipe comes from a book I edited a few years book, A Baker’s Field Guide to Doughnuts by Dede Wilson. It's supposed to make about 14 donuts; Julie’s were small so she got about 20. Be sure to let your eggs and buttermilk come to room temperature ahead of time, and start early enough so that you can refrigerate the dough for at least 2 hours.

Chocolate Cake-Style Doughnuts

2½ cups all-purpose flour
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons sifted cake flour
½ cup sifted Dutch-processed cocoa powder
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ cup neutral vegetable oil, plus more for deep-frying
2 ounces semisweet chocolate (not more than 55% cacao)
1 cup sugar
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
1 cup buttermilk, at room temperature

Heat the oil and chocolate together in a microwave or double boiler until the chocolate melts. Whisk until smooth; remove from heat and cool slightly.

In another large bowl, beat together the sugar and eggs with an electric mixer (or whisk by hand) until pale and creamy. Beat in the vanilla along with the melted chocolate mixture, then add the buttermilk and beat until combined. Add the dry mixture in two batches and stir with a wooden spoon just until the dough comes together. The dough will be fairly soft. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours or up to overnight.

Line a rimmed baking sheet pan with a triple layer of paper towels. Heat 3 inches of oil in a deep pot or deep-fat fryer to 350° to 355°F. (I dragged out my trusty old Waring Pro, which delighted Julie.)

While the oil is heating, dust the work surface generously with flour. Scrape half of the dough onto the surface, dust the top of the dough lightly with flour, and roll out to ½-inch thickness. Cut out doughnuts with a lightly floured 3-inch round cutter. (We don’t have a donut cutter, so Julie used a large cutter for the outside and a tiny one for the hole in the middle.) Gently gather the scraps, press them together, roll out the dough, and cut out as many additional doughnuts as possible. Repeat with the remaining dough.

Fry a few doughnuts at a time; do not crowd. Fry for about 1 minute and 40 seconds, flip them over, and fry for about 1 minute and 40 seconds more on the other side, until just cooked through. Using a slotted spoon, remove each doughnut from the oil and drain thoroughly on paper towels. Repeat with the remaining doughnuts.

Make the glaze (see below; Julie needed to make an additional half recipe) and dip the donuts into it. DEVOUR while still warm.

Hard Sugar Glaze

2 cups sifted confectioners’ sugar
2 tablespoons water

Place confectioners’ sugar in a medium-size saucepan. Whisk in the water until it begins to combine; it will be thick before you heat it. (Julie fretted about the thickness and added a little more water; it still came out fine.) Cook over medium heat, whisking often, until it liquefies and becomes completely smooth and very warm—but not hot—to the touch. Do not let it simmer. The cooking will be brief—about 15 seconds. Remove from the heat and use immediately. 

Fun Fall Weekend

This was a fun weekend, despite the fact that I was not at Boston Calling seeing the Avett Brothers. Wah! 

Saturday I went to an all-day cooking class at Le Cordon Bleu! I drive by there every time I head into and out of Charlestown, but it never occurred to me that they do anything beyond the actual cooking school (for a diploma/certificate). Then I saw a Groupon* good for two-for-one on a single all-day cooking class at the Bleu Ribbon Kitchen—and grabbed it. I invited the friend who had invited me to that paella-making class last winter, figuring that she would be game. We perused the scheduled classes and our calendars and settled on "The Italian Series: Piedmont." The menu consisted of Braised Short Ribs, Creamy Herbed Polenta, Escarole with Pancetta and Chile Flakes, and Almond Panna Cotta with Amarena Cherries. (Are you drooling yet?)

The place is gorgeous. We started off in a large demo room, where the chefs showed us how we'd be making the dishes. Then we headed up to the actual working kitchens and got busy. It was really fun to work with all the professional equipment, particularly the GIANT range, and to chat with the chefs.

Gotta keep whisking that polenta! It was a really fun day, and always nice to reconnect with an old friend—we grew up across the street from each other!

That night we realized that Julie had never seen "Guys and Dolls," so we watched it on demand. Andy was on the stage crew for that show when he was in high school, so he knows every single word to every single song. Julie now has a mad crush on the young Brando; I am more of a young Sinatra fan myself.

Sunday I took Julie shopping for some fall clothes. Just before we headed home, we went back to a store that we'd already been to, and at that very instant, I ran into another dear old friend, who was in town for a weekend getaway with her mom and sisters. We hadn't seen each other in probably 10 years! I couldn't stop grinning after that.

When we got home, Julie decided to make chocolate-glazed donuts, and who was I to argue with that. I will post the recipe and photo tomorrow, but I will tell you now that they were SPLENDID.

That night we realized that Julie had never seen "West Side Story," so we watched it on demand. It's amazing how un-menacing those evil gang guys look now! (And if you're noticing a trend, yes indeed—next up are "The Music Man" and "Oklahoma"! I knew if I had enough kids, one of them would be into musicals!)

Later on, Pete, Julie, and I sat outside in our jammies and fleeces to watch the Supermoon. 

A lovely weekend, all around.

*For me, "Groupon" has become genericized, à la Scotch tape and Jello and Kleenex. This particular "Groupon" was in fact a Travel Zoo voucher.

Euphoric

Euphoria by Lily King was the subject of one of the best book group meetings we've had in a very long time. This is a classic example of a book I never would have picked up on my own and am so grateful to have been assigned. I normally read the Sunday NYT Book Review cover to cover, but somehow I missed the review of this book—or, more likely, skimmed it and decided it wasn't for me. Was I ever wrong. (The Times went on to put it on their list of the 10 Best Books of 2014, and it won lots of other honors, too. I was oblivious.)

The book takes place in 1933 and is a fictionalized account of a brief period in the life of Margaret Mead, one involving great breakthroughs in the nascent field of anthropology, as well as a love triangle. In this case, our three anthropologists are the intrepid American Nell Stone, who has recently published a book to great acclaim; her handsome but piggish Aussie husband, Fen; and Andrew Bankson, a Brit whom they meet by chance. Nell is all about work-work-work, studying and taking notes and trying to make sense of the various tribes they encounter along the Sepik River in New Guinea. Fen, Nell thinks, would rather just live with the tribes and not have to bother studying them. At the same time, he is fiercely jealous of his wife's success. Bankson has been working alone for years and is so lonely and depressed and full of self-loathing that when we meet him, he is just about to do himself in. 

There is so much to love about this book. For one thing, the writing is terrific—some of King's descriptions really made me stop in my tracks. She does equally well with the scenes of great intellectual excitement and discovery as she does with the quiet buildup to the steamier scenes, and her depictions of the three personalities in this triangle felt exactly right. But I also just plain loved the story. It was fascinating, and you don't need to know (or care) even a little about Margaret Mead or anthropology at all in order to enjoy it. 

As I mentioned, we had a very spirited discussion. All of us loved the book, but that doesn't always guarantee a good meeting. In this case, we had so many questions and opinions and connections that we probably could have gone on for another hour if it hadn't gotten late. It was a great pleasure to talk about this book with others—if I'd read it on my own, I think I would have felt disappointed that I had no one to discuss it with.

In case you couldn't guess, I enthusiastically recommend this book! We haven't picked our next book—any suggestions?

More Short Books

Flora by Gail Godwin was lovely but almost too sad. It's 1945, and 10-year-old Helen lives in North Carolina with her father. She has no mother, and her beloved grandmother recently died. When her father is called away to work on a secret military project at Oak Ridge, Helen's 22-year-old cousin from Alabama comes to stay with her for the summer. Helen is angry and mean, and Flora is extremely innocent and open-hearted, so the balance of power is out of whack in the house from the get-go. There is so much loss, and sadness, and hurt feelings, and unexpressed (or mis-expressed) emotion that you almost can't tell that there is a plot unfolding, but it's there. The story is told by the elderly Helen, who has become a writer and is looking back on that fateful summer. I do recommend this book, mostly for the beautiful writing, but it's definitely not a "feel good" read.

Poor Man's Feast is Elissa Altman's memoir of being in love with food and then falling in love with a person who loves food in a different way. Altman is a born-and-bred New Yorker and pretty much obsessed with the food world—buying every trendy ingredient she hears about, preparing the most elaborate dishes for her friends, and endlessly talking about it all. There are names dropped throughout, mostly brand names of expensive knives and cookware, plus jaw-dropping prices she pays for tiny amounts of exotic ingredients (some of which she doesn't even know how to use but just must have them). These parts I found very tedious, despite (or perhaps because of?) my love of cooking and eating. But the point was to contrast Altman with her new girlfriend (whom she meets online). Susan lives in a tiny house in a rural part of Connecticut. She too loves food, but more for the beauty and simplicity of, say, a freshly picked tomato, still warm from the sun, with just a sprinkling of salt. She can't understand why her new girlfriend is forever lugging all these fancy-shmancy ingredients from the city to her house and and spending hours preparing elaborate (usually very tall) dishes. Spoiler: They manage to work out their differences.

A huge detraction for me was the lack of decent copyediting for this book—in particular the rampant misuse of commas. I could bore you with dozens of examples, but here are just a few: "checkered, French picnic oilcloths" and "enormous, vintage Kohler sink" and "two immense, kosher beef franks." She also overuses certain words—every time someone turns on the broiler, you know something is going to be "immolated," and everything makes her "swoon." But it was a sweet enough story to read on a summer weekend.

I also read Euphoria by Lily King, which I loved, but I will wait to tell you about it until after my book group meeting next week.

And Away She Goes!

Those of you who have been reading this blog since I started in March 2004 might remember being introduced to my 7-year-old daughter, Steph. Fast-forward to this past Saturday when I dropped my now 18½-year-old daughter Steph at college! No, really.

Last winter she joined a Facebook group for all admitted students, and she became friendly with two of the girls there. They met in person at various events during the winter and spring and decided to room together. I had drilled into her that you don't have to be best pals with your roommate(s), but you do have to have compatible lifestyles. So, for Steph, that meant very neat and orderly, and also early-to-bed-early-to-rise. These girls have similar preferences, so it was a good choice. They lucked out and got the dorm that was recently renovated, so they actually have AC! Also better wifi than the other dorms, modern bathrooms, etc. On the first floor of her dorm is a big kitchen, a study area, a TV room, and a laundry room. Everything is clean and new and nice.

The beds are adjustable, which means that if you don't mind using a step stool, you can fit loads of stuff UNDER your bed and conserve precious floorspace. There are adjustments at various levels, as with shelving—this is the highest it goes:

Pretty clever, huh? (The beds can also be stacked as bunk beds, but no one was too eager to go that route.)

She has orientation through Tuesday, and then classes start on Wednesday. In between all the meetings and sessions, there have been fun events like a BBQ and a city scavenger hunt, and tonight they're being taken on a harbor cruise. I love that she'll be living in downtown Boston, something I never did.

That being said, she's only 7.6 miles away from home, which means that she can hop on the T and be in her old bedroom in about a half hour if she feels the need, or we can easily bring her things from home that she wants. But she is away, so it's the best of both worlds. We are very proud and excited!

Voracious

Whenever I get a package and I'm not expecting anything, it's almost always a book I worked on that the publisher has been kind enough to send me. This time it was one of my favorite books I ever edited: Voracious by Cara Nicoletti. 

Nicoletti, a butcher and former pastry chef as well as an English/Latin major in college, offers 50 recipes that are featured in (or inspired by) some of her favorite books from childhood all the way through adulthood. For instance, there are the Buttermilk Pancakes from Pippi Longstocking, Biscuits with Molasses Butter from To Kill a Mockingbird, Pork Pie from Great Expectations, and Honey–Poppy Seed Cake from The Aeneid. But beyond the recipes, it's the little stories and vignettes that introduce them that are so captivating. Whether she's reminiscing about her days on the playground play-acting scenes from the "Little House" books (Breakfast Sausage inspired by Little House in the Big Woods), her miserable Chinatown apartment that was infested with mice (Brown Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies in honor of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie), or her summers spent on Nantucket with her grandparents (Clam Chowder à la Moby-Dick), the introductions are what really make this much more than just a cookbook. 

I don't always feel strongly about recommending books I worked on, but this one gets an enthusiastic double thumbs-up.

More Zukes

Here's a non-zoodle recipe for those of you with an unmanageable zucchini crop. I made this twice already, once as hors d'oeuvres for a party and once just because. You can even eat it for lunch, like quiche. (I can't remember where I found this recipe, but when I Google it, I get tons of hits from all over, so I don't think it's a terribly proprietary formula.)

Zucchini Cheese Squares

3 cups shredded zucchini
2 teaspoons salt
1½ cups flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 medium onion, diced
2 cups grated Cheddar cheese
2 teaspoons thyme leaves
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
½ cup vegetable oil
3 large eggs

Preheat the oven to 350°. Lightly grease a 7" x 11" baking dish. (I have never heard of this size dish, so I used my 9" square brownie pan.)

Combine the zucchini and salt in a colander and toss to mix. Set aside in the sink to drain for 30 minutes. Squeeze out the excess water.

Combine the flour and baking powder in a medium bowl. Add the zucchini, onion, cheese, thyme, and pepper. (I didn't have fresh thyme, so I used about 2 teaspoons dried Italian seasoning blend in place of the thyme and the pepper.) Mix well with a big fork, breaking up any clumps of zucchini.

Whisk together the oil and eggs in a glass measuring cup. Pour into the zucchini mixture and mix well. Spread evenly in the baking dish.

Bake until golden, about 35 minutes. Let cool on a wire rack for 5 minutes, then cut into squares. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Two Days, Two Books

Over the weekend I read two short novels:

The first was The Photograph by Penelope Lively. Interestingly enough, I recall that this was the first book I'd ever heard of by Lively, but somehow I only just now got around to reading it. Here's the synopsis from Amazon: "Penelope Lively’s latest masterpiece opens with a snapshot: Kath, before her death, at an unknown gathering, holding hands with a man who is not her husband. The photograph is in an envelope marked DON’T OPEN—DESTROY. But Kath’s husband does not heed the warning, embarking on a journey of discovery that reveals a tight web of secrets—within marriages, between sisters, and at the heart of an affair. Kath, with her mesmerizing looks and casual ways, moves like a ghost through the memories of everyone who knew her—and a portrait emerges of a woman whose life cannot be understood without plumbing the emotional depths of the people she touched." Lively is a very engaging writer and a genius at creating believable characters; unfortunately, we never fully get to know Kath, although it's made very clear that no one (with the possible exception of one character) ever really knew her. She's long gone, and we are left to piece together who this person was from the recollections of all those she left behind. This was not my favorite Lively book, but I think anything she's written is definitely worth reading.

Next up was That Part Was True by Deborah McKinlay, which was absolutely delightful. It tells the story of Eve Petworth and Jackson Cooper, both divorced and looking down the barrel of turning fifty. Eve lives in England, where she doesn't do much of anything but putter about her beautiful country home, gardening, cooking, occasionally volunteering, and dealing with her daughter, who is suffering much more from the loss of Eve's mother than Eve herself. Jack is an American novelist who has written a popular series of books about a smart private investigator who loves to cook (think: Spenser). Eve writes a letter to Jack in praise of a particular line in one of his books that captured her fancy, and they begin a correspondence, mostly about food and cooking, but also, as it turns out, about Life. This is not groundbreaking territory by any means, but it's a charming book, with great warmth and humor. I loved the writing, and the ending was pitch-perfect.

Can't Say I Liked It

I had high hopes for Bradstreet Gate by Robin Kirman; it was touted as a novel that would appeal to fans of Donna Tartt, Meg Wolitzer, and Jeffrey Eugenides. However, I ultimately found it to be a disappointment.

It starts off promising enough: We are introduced to three Harvard students and one professor, all or some of whom may or may not have been involved in another student's murder. The interrelationships are complicated, but in most cases unbelievable. The author has to go out of her way in several cases to tell us that So-and-So finds himself/herself drawn to Such-and-Such despite not liking or respecting him/her at all. Certain characters are described as charismatic, but then nothing supports this idea, and I was left wondering why these people were even in each other's lives. In particular, after pretty much every pair of characters has a falling-out, they're still in touch years after graduation—it didn't ring true at all. After a while, I couldn't care less what happened to any of them.

Despite this, I continued reading, because I wanted to know what would happen and how the author would tie up all the questions and mysteries surrounding the murder and other unexplained plot events. I'm sorry to say that absolutely nothing is resolved. Nothing. The ending is coyly vague, and I was incredibly frustrated. I actually went online to see whether I'd somehow missed something, but no: there's no resolution at all. 

I don't need to like the characters in order to like a book, and I don't need to have everything sewn up tight at the end, but I do need something to make my reading time worthwhile. Often it will be the writing style—if it's gorgeous enough, I can forgive other lapses. This author is a competent enough writer, but that's about as far as I'll go. 

If anyone out there read this and liked it, I'd be interested to hear your thoughts.

I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review. All opinions are my own.

Bread Winner

I felt bad one day when Julie said that she'd never made bread before. I used to make bread all the time, but I guess not for ages and ages. So we started with an easy recipe from King Arthur, whose recipes always come out great.

True to its name, this bread has a coarse texture and makes splendid toast. I didn't take a photo, but you can follow the link to see how lovely it is at the KA blog (I love that blog's name: FLOURISH!).

English Muffin Toasting Bread

3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon instant yeast
1 tablespoon sugar
1½ teaspoons salt
¼ teaspoon baking soda
1 cup milk
¼ cup water
2 tablespoons vegetable oil or olive oil
cornmeal, to sprinkle in pan

1. Whisk together the flour, yeast, sugar, salt, and baking soda in a large mixing bowl.

2. Combine the milk, water, and oil in a separate, microwave-safe bowl, and heat to between 120° and 130°. Be sure to stir the liquid well before measuring its temperature; you want an accurate reading. If you don't have a thermometer, the liquid will feel quite hot (hotter than lukewarm), but not so hot that it would be uncomfortable as bath water.

3. Pour the hot liquid over the dry ingredients in the mixing bowl.

4. Beat at high speed for 1 minute. The dough will be very soft.

5. Lightly grease an 8½" x 4½" loaf pan, and sprinkle the bottom and sides with cornmeal.

6. Scoop the soft dough into the pan, leveling it in the pan as much as possible.

7. Cover the pan, and let the dough rise till it's just barely crowned over the rim of the pan. When you look at the rim of the pan from eye level, you should see the dough, but it shouldn't be more than, say, ¼" over the rim. This will take  45 minutes to 1 hour, if you heated the liquid to the correct temperature and your kitchen isn't very cold. While the dough is rising, preheat the oven to 400°.

8. Remove the cover, and bake the bread till it's golden brown and its interior temperature is 190°, 22 to 27 minutes.

9. Remove the bread from the oven, and after 5 minutes turn it out of the pan onto a rack to cool. Let the bread cool completely before slicing.

Despiralized

I swore up and down that I wasn't going to buy one of those stupid vegetable spiralizer things, and the next thing I know, I was typing in my VISA number over at Inspiralized. What pushed me over the edge was a recipe that looked so yummy I had to try it. And I did, and it was ... meh. I think it was the first time I've ever not loved something from Simply Recipes. Sigh. Anyhow, I'll post it here anyhow, in case anyone wants to try it (everyone else on that site seemed to like it)—or maybe you can figure out what went wrong with mine. 

Cheesy Baked Zucchini Noodle Casserole 

3 pounds zucchini
1½ tablespoons kosher salt, divided use
1 tablespoon olive oil (I used a little more because I used garlic-herb chicken sausage.)
8 ounces Italian sausage
1½ cups diced onion
1 (15-ounce) can crushed tomatoes
3 garlic cloves, minced
½ cup thinly sliced fresh basil leaves
¾ cup ricotta cheese (We are not ricotta fans.)
2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese

1. Preheat the oven to 350° and lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish.

2. Using a spiralizer, make zucchini noodles ("zoodles"—gah!) with the device. You should have a generous 8 cups of zucchini noodles. Place in a colander in the sink. Snip the zoodles with scissors here and there to keep them from tangling too much. Toss them with 1 tablespoon of the salt. Let the zoodles drain of excess moisture while you make the sauce.

3. Coat the bottom of a large sauté pan with the olive oil and heat over medium heat. Remove the sausage meat from the casings and add it to the pan. Gently cook the sausage, breaking it up into clumps, until it is just cooked through and lightly browned. Transfer to a bowl. Discard all but 1 tablespoons of oil/rendered fat. (I actually had to add a little more.)

4. Add the onion to the pan and cook until softened and lightly colored,  5 to 6 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for another minute.

5. Return the sausage to the pan and add the crushed tomatoes. Bring to a simmer, then lower the heat to maintain a low simmer. Cook for 5 to 6 additional minutes. Stir in the basil and the remaining ½ tablespoon salt.

6. While the sauce is simmering, use a clean dish towel to squeeze more moisture out of the zucchini noodles. (You will be surprised at how much liquid comes out!)

7. Add the zucchini noodles to the pan with the tomato-sausage sauce. Gently stir to combine so that all of the noodles are coated with sauce. Transfer to the greased baking dish and spread into an even layer.

8. Arrange the ricotta in clumps on the casserole. Press the ricotta into the zucchini noodles to penetrate the casserole a bit. Mix the mozzarella cheese and Parmesan cheese together and sprinkle over the top in an even layer. Bake until the top is lightly browned and bubbly, about 35 minutes. (Mine was deeply browned after 10 minutes—what the??) Let cool for 10 minutes before serving.

So, this was fine, and we all ate it. The flavor was good enough. The main complaints was that it didn't really hold together like a casserole; it was kind of soupy under the melted cheese. Maybe I needed even more zucchini? And more sausage? Also, why was it done so quickly in my oven? Anyhow, it certainly wasn't as good as the Zucchini Pizza Casserole I've made a few times; that one uses 2 eggs as a binder.

Who out there has a spiralizer, and what do you use it for? Please don't tell me I just bought an expensive paperweight with very sharp edges.

Refreshment

Psst, don't let the foreman down in the comma mines know that I've slipped away from my post, but I wanted to take a minute to share this fun summery recipe with you.

Watermelon Jell-o

2 (¼-ounce) envelopes unflavored gelatin
½ cup sugar
Pinch salt
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
3½-pound piece seedless watermelon

 

1. In a small bowl, sprinkle the gelatin over ¼ cup cold water. Set aside to soften, about 5 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, combine the sugar, salt, and another ¼ cup water. Heat over high, stirring occasionally, just until the sugar is dissolved, 2 to 3 minutes; remove from the heat. Stir in the gelatin mixture until dissolved; set aside.

3. Remove the rind from the watermelon and cut it into chunks. In a blender, puree the lemon juice and half of the watermelon chunks. Add the remaining watermelon chunks and puree. Pour the puree through a fine-mesh sieve into a large glass measuring cup—you will need 3 cups total—and discard the solids. 

4. Stir the gelatin mixture into the puree; skim off and discard any foam on the surface. Divide the mixture among 6 serving cups. Cover and refrigerate until set, at least 3 hours and up to 3 days. 

This Summer's Beach Read

If you are in need of a summertime can't-put-it-down book, have I got a suggestion for you: Bittersweet by Miranda Beverly-Whittemore. It's long (416 pages) but flies by, in part because the chapters are very short and always seem to end with some sort of cliff-hanger—it becomes all too easy to keep saying, "OK, one more chapter...!"

The main character, Mabel Dagmar (one of my only complaints about the book was the ridiculous names!), is a shy, overweight, working-class college freshman who finds herself roommates with the beautiful, wealthy, glamorous Genevra Winslow. Mabel is shocked when Ev befriends her and even invites her to spend the summer at her family's Vermont "camp" (read: sprawling multi-cottage compound). Ev is temperamental and has a nasty streak, but Mabel is positively starstruck. 

But, just as beautiful and peaceful as the summer promises to be, darkness and mystery abound. The Winslow family has apparently been keeping secrets for many decades, and Mabel is determined to get to the bottom of it all. I won't give any spoilers, but I will say that there are two main secrets, and I felt that one of them was not developed nearly enough to have warranted such a build-up. But, never mind, this is a real page-turner, and a pretty well-written one at that. Throw this book in your beach bag and get ready for a fun read.

I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review. All opinions are my own.

What I've Been Eating

As usual, we spent the long July 4th weekend up in the White Mountains, and the main reason is this:

Sometimes we just like to veg.

But, we are never too lazy to eat up there, and this trip was no exception. There were all the usual suspects, like Polly's Pancake Parlor and Chutter's, but this time we also tried out the Schilling Beer Company, which was excellent. Check out their website for info on all the many wonderful beers they brew there; the website, however, barely hints at the wonderful food they serve. We all split an appetizer called "The Slate," which is in fact a large slate with tasty fresh and local things on it, like cheeses, cured meats, pretzel bread, marinated veggies, salmon paté, etc. Then we each got a thin-crust wood-fired pizza, and they were really, really good. This place could easily have been in any major city (great atmosphere, too!), so it was quite a treat to find it up in the boondocks.

While Julie recuperates from her surgery, she is never far from the kitchen. As I type this, she is downstairs baking the second Berry Buttermilk cake in as many weeks and also making ricotta-honey ice cream. All of the important ingredients came from the farmers' market, where Julie was also heard to exclaim with delight, "They have sorrel!!" 

A couple of weeks ago, on a Meatless Monday, I tried a new tofu technique from America's Test Kitchen. You press the tofu, cut it into rectangular "fingers," coat it in a mixture of 3 parts cornstarch and 1 part cornmeal, and then brown it on all sides in a little oil. It did indeed come out nice and crispy, even when mixed in with my other stir-fry ingredients. I kind of did a mashup of two recipes, using the sauce from this one and the veggie technique from this one (using bok choy, broccoli, and carrots), and served it over rice noodles. Everyone approved.

I also recently tried a new chicken recipe, from the "dunk the pieces in something wet and then in something dry and put them in the oven" family. Sometimes the "something wet" is buttermilk or melted butter and sometimes the "something dry" is panko or cornflake crumbs. Here's how this one went:

Juicy Oven-Fried Chicken

1/2 cup plain yogurt (I used Greek style.)
1 tablespoon brown sugar or honey (I used honey.)
1 garlic clove, minced
3 to 4 pounds bone-in, skin-on chicken pieces
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon paprika
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon black pepper

Combine the yogurt, brown sugar or honey, and garlic in a mixing bowl. Turn the chicken pieces in the yogurt mixture and, if you have the time, cover and marinate in the refrigerator for 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 375°.

Combine the flour, paprika, salt, and pepper in a shallow dish.

Lightly oil a baking dish large enough to accommodate the chicken without crowding. Coat the chicken with the seasoned flour and shake off any excess. Set the chicken, skin side down, in the dish and bake for 25 minutes. Turn the chicken over and continue baking until cooked through, about 35 minutes more. 

This was delicious (no weird tanginess from the yogurt), and cold leftovers were equally wonderful for lunch the next day.

What I've Been Reading

For this month's book group, we met to discuss The Boys in the Boat by Daniel James Brown. The subtitle is "Nine Americans and Their Epic Quest for Gold at the 1936 Berlin Olympics," and that pretty much tells you what you're getting. It's a partially fictionalized account of the 1936 USA crew team; I say "partially fictionalized" because although the story is historically true, the author took some liberties by filling in dialogue and other details that no one could possibly know now. But he did extensive research, and did a good job painting a picture of a particular time and place. Although I enjoyed the story very much (despite knowing exactly how it would end), I did find the book to be a bit of a slog at times. I think that the author (or perhaps his editor) just couldn't bear to make any cuts, so you end up with overly long descriptions at times. I was reading it somewhere when I was out and about, and a woman stopped me and said, "Isn't that book great?" We got to talking, and she told me that her daughter rows crew, and that she told her mother that the descriptions of what it's like to be part of a crew when everything is in perfect synch—the author calls it "swing"—brought her to tears. I also especially enjoyed the parts about the man who built the racing shells. All in all, it was truly a feel-good story; the writing style wasn't particularly scintillating, but it still makes for a good read.

We aren't meeting again until the fall, and we haven't picked our next book yet. But, in the meantime....

I read The Middlesteins by Jami Attenberg. It's the story of a family and its matriarch, Edie, who is not so slowly but most surely eating herself to death. She eats all the time—for fun, out of boredom, to medicate herself, because it's there, for the flavors, for the activity, any reason whatsoever. She is obsessed with food. Is this a problem, and should her family do something about it? Or is this just the way she is and they should let her be happy, even if there's no question that her health is in true danger? It's a short book, but the characters are well drawn and believable; I really enjoyed Attenberg's writing. The book has quite a bit of humor, but it's not aimed at Edie, so we never feel that Attenberg is poking fun at her. In fact, we are left to question who in this family really "needs help" and who doesn't. It ends up being an astute but compassionate look at this particular family, in terms of both how they interact and who they are as individuals.

I also read The Love of My Youth by Mary Gordon. I'd heard great things about Gordon but somehow never managed to read any of her novels. This one ... meh. Here's the description from Amazon: "Miranda and Adam, high school sweethearts now in their late fifties, arrive by chance at the same time in Rome, a city where they once spent a summer deeply in love. At an awkward reunion, Adam suggests that they meet for daily walks and get to know each other again. Both have their own sense of who betrayed whom and long-held interpretations of the events that caused them to part. But gradually, as they take in the pleasures of the city and the drama of its streets, they discover not only what matters to them now but also what happened to them long ago." Sound sappy? It was. But I can be a sap, so that isn't what made me roll my eyes on nearly every page. It was Adam and Miranda's dialogue that did me in. They spoke in these ridiculously long, grandiose soliloquies. I had to keep looking for quotation marks to see whether someone was in fact still talking. I was so sick of the both of them (especially Miranda) by the end that I didn't care what they did.

And finally, although I never ever read murder mysteries, I read Dangerous Admissions by Jane O'Connor because it's about a freelance copyeditor! Rannie, a single mom, finds herself trying to solve the case of who murdered the very influential college admissions counselor at her son's fancy-shmancy Manhattan private school. They say that some parents will just kill to get their kid into an Ivy League school, and our hero is determined to get to the bottom of it. There are fun references to publishing, and there's also a love interest to spice things up. The author did a good job of retrieving some seemingly unrelated details sprinkled throughout the story and using them to tie up the ending in a satisfactory way. I liked Rannie and thought this was a thoroughly fun romp. (It's probably not the author's fault that there were some errors along the way—one character named Dottie is occasionally referred to as Dotty; the shortened form of "microphone" is given once as "mic" and once as "mike"; that sort of thing—but it was kind of disconcerting because Rannie is always mentally correcting people's grammar and usage, so I couldn't help but feel that she would have been annoyed.)

Next up is Bittersweet by Miranda Beverly-Whittemore.

What are you reading?

DIY Queen

When I mentioned Julie's love of DIY the other day, it occurred to me that it warrants an entire post of its own. 

Julie makes everything. I'm not even talking about in the kitchen, where no challenge is too daunting. (We made cheese this week! More on that later.) She also makes all her own skincare products, like facial scrub and lotion bars and bath bombs and lip gloss. She never met a craft she didn't want to try. I think the next frontier for her will likely be sewing.

In the meantime, one of her favorite Hanukkah gifts from this past December was a subscription for a Doodle Crate, which is a monthly package containing everything you need to create something fun and wonderful. The materials are all great quality, and the instructions are well written. The projects are neither too free-form nor too directed—there's just enough guidance so she knows what she's doing, but plenty of room for creativity. Here are some of the things she's made:

These are candles. She made the candles themselves and decorated the little glass holders.

She made the paper covers for these little notebooks and then bound them—it's hard to see from my lousy photo, but they're lovely.

Julie loved carving these rubber stamps!

Here's most of a terrarium—the cats got to it before we could move it. :(

This is a fabric woven basket. She dyed the fabric strips!

There was also a sculpting project, but unfortunately the bag got a hole in it (darn cats again!), so the clay dried up. We are going to get some more. The latest delivery is a solar imaging kit.

The company, Kiwi Crate, offers subscriptions for different ages groups, from preschool on up; Doodle Crates are for kids 9 to 16 years old. They also offer Tinker Crates for kids 9 to 14 years old; those are more about science and technology than crafts. If you want to sign your kids up, use my code to get $10 off. Happy making!

Herbal Goodness

Every winter I get dreamy about having a vegetable and herb garden in the summer. I enthusiastically buy books and equipment, and then when spring rolls around, I forget all about it. I spend the summer at the farmers' market and Whole Foods, and that's the end of that.

But now I have Julie, who has never met a DIY project she didn't embrace whole-heartedly. She found an EarthBox I had bought many years ago that allows you to plant a small garden and move it around—into or out of the sun, for instance—and keeps the plants up high enough to thwart all those cute bunnies in our yard. She got some seedlings, and the next thing I knew, we had this:

And the next thing I knew, we had yummy fresh basil pesto. She's also growing mint and oregano.

All of this brings me to The Postage Stamp Vegetable Garden, which just may be the book that turns things around for me.

Originally published in 1975, this 2015 version has been completely updated. It outlines everything you need to know and do to maximize your yield from a tiny garden. It starts out with the basics for someone like me who claims to have a black thumb: where to put the garden, how to prepare the soil, what exactly to plant—and when—and how to tend the plants once they start to grow. Honestly, the idea of having to prep and take care of just a few square feet and end up with hundreds of pounds of fresh cukes and tomatoes and squash and herbs is very enticing. 

So, this year we will stick with the EarthBox herb garden, but next year—just you wait!—we will be growing actual crops.

I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review. All opinions are my own.

What's Your Sign?

Yesterday it was Julie's turn to experience the wonders of orthopedic surgery. Yes, that broken toe turned out to need a couple of screws to hold on a piece of bone that snapped off. (Yowch!) I would like to officially state here that I am done waiting for my loved ones to wake up from anesthesia. It's a horrible, scary state of non-reality and I refuse to do it anymore. So: No more surgeries, guys, OK?!

If you are an editor and you are waiting for your kid to wake up from anesthesia, you look around and notice signs. You see this one:

and realize that someone got there with a Sharpie before you did; you appreciate their enthusiasm but wish that they had used a lowercase "a" and also added a period at the end.

You see this one:

 

and cannot fathom who approved the use of the second hyphen and the lowercase "n" and "u."

And you see this one:

and wonder whether people who used to work for this hospital bed company are known as "Ex-Hausted Employees."

Then you wait some more, until your kid finally wakes up, and they let you give her some ginger ale and graham crackers.

Falling Apart, Sort of Literally

Here's our family, listed from best to worst, orthopedically:

1. I am fine. Moms can't have anything wrong with them.

2. Steph needs only two more physical therapy sessions and she will have "graduated"! She has only a slight limp now. What a long haul, and what a trouper. 

3. A few weeks into track season, Pete developed shin splints in both legs, which turned out to be stress fractures, so that quickly put an end to that. He is mostly just supposed to not run, and let them heal themselves, and then he'll go in for a gait assessment in a couple of weeks.

4. Julie and another girl kicked each other in yesterday's soccer game, and her big toe got all swollen and purple. I took her in for x-rays this morning and, sure enough, it's broken. There's nothing to be done except wear a very stylish shoe thingy (sort of like Steph's very stylish boot thingy, but it doesn't come up high). They referred us to an orthopedist who specializes in feet, so I'll call him tomorrow. She is obviously done with soccer for the season and also couldn't do the AIDS Walk today, which was a big disappointment.

5. Andy had been suffering for weeks from sciatica again; he finally went for an MRI and learned that he blew out another disc. Which explains why this is pretty much the worst pain he's ever experienced (and that's saying a lot). He got a steroid injection in his spine on Thursday, but he still had to miss Steph's high school graduation, which was a huge bummer for everyone. The steroid injection could provide relief as soon as 2 days, or up to 10 days, or never at all. So far, nothing, but here's hoping....

Sorry to end on such a downer; to brighten things up, here's a proof from Steph's graduation (yes, I know you're not supposed to do this, but things have been kind of hectic around here, so sue me):

Pairs

Two books that I worked on last year came out in the last week or so. The first is Sally Mann's glorious memoir, Hold Still, which I proofread. Having read every single word of it, I can assure you that Mann's words are just as compelling as her images. I highly recommend this book if you like a good story, regardless of whether you consider yourself a photography aficionado. As Publishers Weekly put it, "The vivid descriptive energy and arresting images in this impressive book will leave readers breathless." The other book is The Ocean, the Bird, and the Scholar, a collection of critical essays by the renowned poetry scholar Helen Vendler, which I edited. Working on this book took me right back to the days of my college literature classes. Vendler examines the work of poets I know well, such as Wallace Stevens and W. B. Yeats and Walt Whitman, as well as plenty I'd never even heard of, like Jorie Graham and Amy Clampitt and Charles Wright. This book is a good example of something I wouldn't have likely picked up to read on my own but am glad I did.

I've posted before about Elizabeth Strout; the first two books of hers that I read were two of my favorite books ever: Olive Kitteridge and The Burgess Boys. I've since gone back to read her two earlier books. Sometime last year I read Amy and Isabelle and realize I never reviewed here. I liked this one less than the other two, although Strout's writing is so effortlessly beautiful that I would read anything she wrote just for the pleasure of immersing myself in her words. I recall that I wasn't happy with the conclusion she seemed to be drawing at the end, but otherwise this was a captivating, if somewhat disturbing, look at a teenage girl's budding sexuality. And just recently I finished Abide with Me, which I had begun months ago and then had to put aside because I was too busy with work. Again, a less compelling story than Strout's later work but, again, gorgeous prose and well-fleshed-out characters. All of Strout's books take place in the small towns of Maine, and she captures that atmosphere—and the inhabitants—perfectly. This one is about the personal struggles of the new pastor in one of these small towns. I'll say the same thing about Elizabeth Strout that I've said about Richard Russo: Even one of her lesser novels is better than half of what's out there, and always worth reading.

And while we're doing pairs of things, these aren't books, but here are two family photos from my niece's wedding:

We clean up nice, huh?

In the DR

Last time I wrote I was sick sick sick, but then I got mostly better, and then I got sick sick sick again, as did we all. But ... in the meantime we went on a wonderful vacation! 

This was Steph's last April spring break* ever (!), and she was finally off crutches, so we decided to treat the whole family to a real vacation in honor of both of these milestones. No sight-seeing, just relaxing. We decided to go to a tropical island and take advantage of one of those all-inclusive resorts we've heard about. But a really nice one, not the kind with dozens of drunk college kids jammed into every room.

Long before we had kids, Andy and I used to go to the Caribbean every winter. We'd always try a new island, and our favorite thing to do was get off the beaten track to explore the culture, see where the locals eat, and so on. We would never had considered a vacation where you don't leave your resort, no matter how nice. How times change: Now the idea of three teenagers being allowed to roam free within the confines of a huge but safe and gorgeous resort was just the ticket!

We didn't see the need to travel very far, since the kids have never been to the Caribbean at all, so we limited our search to the closest islands—the Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, and the Bahamas. After much Googling, we ended up booking a trip to the DR via Costco.com. I'd never used Costco for travel services, but it popped up in my search and it struck me as not a bad idea to book an international trip under the auspices of a large and well-known company just in case anything went wrong.**

And ... we had a splendid vacation! We ended up bumping ourselves up a level in terms of resort fanciness, and I'm glad we did, because the Barceló Bávaro Palace Deluxe in Punta Cana was positively gorgeous. It was by far the most luxurious place we've ever stayed. The grounds were impeccably landscaped and maintained, the pools and beach were immaculate, the restaurants were all wonderful, and the staff was friendly and helpful. There are more than 3500 employees there (!), and there was always someone topping off my wine glass or giving me a dry towel or putting chocolates on my freshly made-up bed, and always with a smile.

The place is huge, so even though there are something like 1600 rooms, nothing ever felt crowded. We never had to search for a lounge chair or wait for a restaurant table. There were certainly always people around (it had a very international crowd) to give it a good vibe, but it wasn't in any way crowded.

Everything was beautiful (see hotel website photos here). The lobby and various sitting areas all had beautiful art and sculptures, and there were magnificent flowers everywhere. Each of the restaurants had a different decor, and all were lovely. Speaking of restaurants, there were something like 11 of them, from Spanish to Italian to Japanese etc. At the Spanish one, I had a paella that rivaled those I had in Spain! And Steph got (and enjoyed) her first taste of sangria. (Yes, the legal drinking age is 18 down there!) There were also two huge buffet restaurants that had every possible food imaginable, and then some. And everything was presented so beautifully, with little cut-out veggie shells holding salads and fancy-cut fruit and decorative icing on pastries.

The biggest decisions were which restaurant to eat at and whether to hit the pool or the beach. The beauty of the all-inclusive thing was that we didn't have to carry any money around. All meals and drinks were included. And all (non-motorized) water sports. The only things that weren't included that we did were spa treatments (but at least we had some discount vouchers for those) and wifi (which I thought was kind of ridiculous at a fancy place like that).

We all got to use our Spanish quite a bit, although I inexplicably kept lapsing into Italian. Julie elbowed me every time I said "Grazie!" or "Per favore!" The best was after all these years of speaking very slangy Spanish with his mostly Dominican employees, Andy was finally regarded in a new light! His dialect was right at home. (Years ago, in Spain, the people looked at him askance as soon as he started speaking....)

Wanna see some photos?

Here Steph has her first legal piña colada! I don't know if you can tell, but the pool has tiled lounge chairs and tables just partially under the water. Right near the swim-up bar, 'natch.

Pete and Julie enjoy (virgin) strawberry daiquiris:

One view of one of the pool areas:

And, turning 180°, one view of the beach:

The girls before dinner one night:

Mani-pedis for all!

Fancy appetizers:

And decadent desserts:

 And now we're back to real life, sigh.

*Here in Mass. (and possibly the rest of New England?), public school kids get one week off in February and one week off in April. Most private schools follow the college schedule of two weeks in March instead.

**For the first time ever, we purchased travel insurance. In the past it never seemed to make sense, since you can usually cancel hotel reservations right up until the day before, and airfare didn't used to be so pricey. But, since everything was included in this trip package, there would be more to lose if we had to cancel. We also used to say, "Why get insurance? What could happen?" Well, after last December we learned that lots of bad things can happen suddenly ... so we figured better safe and sorry. It was the best $400 I ever "wasted" in terms of peace of mind.

Non-Passover Fare

I am sick sick sick, but I thought of a pasta recipe I meant to post a couple of weeks ago, pre-Passover, so I thought I'd do it now, while I still have the strength to type. (Just barely.) And then let this pestilence begone!

Fine Cooking has many wonderful recipes on their website, but they also have a bunch of "templates" for creating your own take on classic recipes, like muffins or quiche (the full list is here). Julie mentioned to me that she had never made a proper béchamel, so I figured it was a good opportunity to make mac & cheese from scratch. The main recipe is here; you then "drag" the items you want into the "bowl," and when you're done, you click and get your own customized version of the recipe. It turned out splendid, and if you don't like our choices, go to the site and pick your own!

Macaroni and Cheese à la Julie

For the Topping:
1 small garlic clove, mashed into a paste
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
2 cups coarse, fresh breadcrumbs, lightly toasted
2 Tbs. finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

For the Macaroni:
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
3 1/2 cups whole milk
5 ounces finely grated Monterey Jack
5 ounces finely grated sharp cheddar
1 pound elbow macaroni
3 cups bite-size broccoli florets, steamed

Make the Topping: Stir the garlic into the butter. Put the breadcrumbs in a medium bowl and drizzle the butter over the crumbs. Add a pinch of kosher salt and the Parmigiano-Reggiano. With your hands, toss well to combine. Set aside.

Make the Macaroni: Position a rack in the center of the oven and heat the oven to 350°.

Melt the butter in a heavy-duty 3- to 4-quart saucepan. Whisk in the flour and continue to whisk over low heat for 3 minutes; the butter and flour should gently bubble and froth without coloring. Slowly add the milk, while whisking constantly. Be sure to whisk around the edges of the pan to get all the lumps. Whisk until the sauce is smooth and has the consistency of heavy cream, about 6 minutes. Raise the heat to medium and bring the sauce to a simmer, whisking constantly. Lower the heat to maintain a gentle simmer and cook, whisking occasionally, for 10 minutes.

Turn off the heat and gently whisk in the Monterey Jack and cheddar. Season to taste with kosher salt. Keep warm.

Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil over high heat. Add the macaroni and cook, stirring occasionally, until al dente, about 1 minute less than indicated on the package. Drain well and return to the pot.

Add the cheese sauce and broccoli to the pasta and gently stir to combine.

Transfer the pasta mixture to a 9x13-inch baking dish and evenly scatter the reserved breadcrumbs on top. Bake until the top is golden, about 15 minutes. Serve immediately.

This Trip Was ACES

You know how I'm always jetting about to professional conferences? Oh, wait—that's not me! I've never done that even once! Well, up until last week, that is. 

I tend to sit in my little editorial lair, doing my thing, without really thinking about all of the other stuff going on around me. But I have a lot of friends and colleagues on Twitter and Facebook who are always crowing about this amazing workshop they attended or that awesome convention they went to, so I started to take notice. 

Last year at this time I was so jealous because everyone was having such a great time at the annual meeting of the American Copy Editors Society in Las Vegas. I hadn't really considered going—I'd never been to ACES (wasn't even a member yet), I had no desire to go to Las Vegas (in fact, the exact opposite), and I really found the entire idea of going alone to meet up with hundreds of other copy editors kind of daunting. (I know, it doesn't sound like the most intimidating group of people you can imagine....) But all the tweets made me long to be there. So I vowed then and there that I would attend ACES2015—knowing already that it would be held in Pittsburgh, which struck me as infinitely more doable than Las Vegas (not just in terms of airfare expense, travel time, and jet lag, but also, um, "city personality," shall we say). So I joined ACES and registered to go.

ACES was founded in 1997 as a resource for people who work at newspaper copy desks, but it has grown to include editors from all types of media—magazines, journals, books, websites, and more. There are currently 1337 members! And 510 of us descended on Pittsburgh last week for a few days of learning and networking and socializing. I met people from all over the country (and Canada), not just freelancers but also people who work at the Washington Post, New York Times, BuzzFeed, WebMD, Business Insider, and on and on. It was fascinating.

I arrived Wednesday afternoon, just in time for a happy hour event for freelancers at a nearby bar. Most ACES members are employed by newspapers, businesses, etc., so this was a chance for people like me to meet up. I think there must have been about 50 of us there! I can't describe what a wonderful feeling it was to finally "meet" people I've "known" online for years! (Yes, really—years!) I'm a hugger by nature, but I wasn't sure whether people hug at these sorts of things. I quickly learned that they do, and warmly. I really felt like I was with My People.

Thursday, Friday, and Saturday flew by in a whirlwind of presentations and sessions and workshops, accompanied by a fair amount of eating and drinking. (I'll tell you this: Between the newspaper folks and the really young people, there was quite a bit of late-night partying. I am old and boring and was also nursing a sore throat, so I went to bed at a Reasonable Hour every night. And that was a treat, too—to stay alone in a hotel room! I used every single towel and had all the pillows to myself.)

Here are some examples of session titles, to give you an idea of what was on offer:

BeltwayBlues: Editing Washington Copy
50 Years of the American Heritage Dictionary's Usage Panel
The Language of the LGBT Community
Editing for Clarity in Medical Communications
10 Mistakes Sportswriters Make and How to Fix Them
Legal Pitfalls on Social Media
How to Get More Out of Your Freelance Business
Copy Editing Translations
Grammar Is Power

So, some of them had nothing to do with my work, and others were just right. There were invariably time slots that had two sessions I was dying to go to, and I had to pick one; then there were others where nothing was particularly applicable to my work but I went just for the heck of it (like the sports one listed above, which was excellent).

The first session I went to was called Rookie Mistakes That Even Veterans Make, presented by Washington Post copydesk legend Bill Walsh. It was like coming home. Every time I chuckled at something, everyone around me was chuckling! Every time I groaned at something, everyone around me was groaning! Bliss.

I discovered that I'm not just into words, I think I might have been a lexicographer in a past life. I went to every dictionary session I could, and I just ate it all up. Oh, and there was a spelling bee! It was run by a Merriam-Webster editor and a real live Scripps person. I was too chicken to enter. I knew maybe the first 100 words, then things got crazy with OPPUGN and NESCIENCE and GRAVEOLENT. Yikes.

Friday night was the big banquet, and the keynote speaker was Ben Zimmer (who you may know from any number of wordy pursuits—Vocabulary.com, the Wall Street Journal's "Word on the Street" column, and the Visual Thesaurus). The title of his talk was "Nitpickery, Debunkage, and the Joys of Getting it Right," and boy, he sure knew his audience. If he needed to sing to make his point, he sang; he even rapped to teach us about the origins of "rock the mic." He showed clips from MadMen and Downton Abbey to give examples of anachronisms (to wit: no one in the 1960s would have said, "I am so over you" and no one in the 1920s would have said, "I'm just sayin'!"). It was word nerd nirvana.

One last highlight: Remember a few weeks ago when I mentioned an article in the New Yorker subtitled "Confessions of a Comma Queen"? And I said that it was an excerpt from a forthcoming book? And that I was going to meet the author? Yes! Mary Norris, who has been at the New Yorker since 1978, has written a thoroughly entertaining memoir called Between You and Me. She talked about it and read from it and even passed around pages from the actual New Yorker style guide (it might as well have been an original Shakespeare folio for the way we reacted). I was glad to hear that she has also done the audio version, because she is not just a wonderful writer but a terrific reader. Then we were given an opportunity to purchase advance copies of the book (the rest of you suckers will have to wait another week). I told her that I felt that she had written it just for me, because I'm both a copy editor and a New Yorker junkie. So she inscribed it (with her beloved Blackwing pencil—there's an entire chapter called "Ballad of a Pencil Junkie"): "For Karen, my perfect reader!" So, yeah, I'll be buried with that. But even better: The last night of the conference, there was a party at a bar (cleverly called Olive or Twist). I saw Mary Norris there, but I was too starstruck to say anything to her. Then I had another drink, and it occurred to me that we're both copy editors, and perhaps no one was talking to her because she's so awesome. So I plunked down next to her and we had such a nice chat! She even mentioned a tweet about her session that she thought was funny, and it was my tweet—she'd had no idea! What a treat.

Sunday I flew back home to my husband and my kids and my cats. So now instead of missing them, I miss all my friends at ACES. See you next year in Portland!

Active Kids

It occurred to me that I haven't updated you on Steph's progress recently—and on anything to do with Pete or Julie in an even longer time! So if you haven't seen any of this on Facebook, read on. (And feel free to friend me there, those of you who've been around these parts for all these years!)

Steph is really coming along. She's down to one crutch but can go without even that a little bit in the house. Today was the first day she went to school without the boot. She is also back to driving, as of last week, which is a big deal. She has resumed babysitting and hopes to return to her beloved daycare volunteer gig next week. (Getting from class to class on crutches is one thing; chasing toddlers and sitting on the floor with them is quite another!) 

Pete had an all-sports kind of winter. As soon as soccer season ended, he decided to do indoor track for the winter. It's the same coach as for outdoor (spring) track and many of the same kids, so he already knew what he was getting into. It turns out that he loves indoor track. For one thing, the meets are mostly at the fabulous Reggie Lewis Center, and he really likes the way it feels to run on an indoor track. But there's another difference: there are actually some different events in indoor track, and Pete discovered that the 600 is his event. He ended up just 0.06 of a second away in one race from earning a varsity letter as a sophomore! And his 4x400 relay team even made it to States. All while this was going on, he and two buddies were also coaching a bunch of 10-year-olds in basketball, and he was also playing in his futsal league. Spring track just began this week, although they are predicting still more snow for tomorrow. Sigh. 

Julie has also taken up a new sport: volleyball! She is in a league with two friends, and they are the only seventh graders—it goes all the way up to high school seniors! Volleyball was the only sport I ever played competitively (well, if you can call it that), so I can appreciate her enjoyment of it. She will finish out her travel soccer league commitment this spring, but then I think she's done with soccer. I would love to see her play volleyball in high school. (OK, part of the reason is that I understand the entire game.)

Book and Dip

We met last week to discuss The Paying Guests by Sarah Waters, which I had been dying to read based on rave reviews from pretty much everyone everywhere. (Go look at the Amazon page and you'll see what I mean.) We all really enjoyed it, but most of us felt that it was too long, and that the first half in particular was too slow. (I seemed to have minded this less than some others in the group.) 

This is the story of Frances Wray and her widowed mother, upperclass women in a post-WWI London suburb. They've come upon hard times and have had to take in lodgers, a young couple from the "clerk class." I won't give away anything that you can't pick up from any review, but the book turns quickly into a star-crossed love story and then even more quickly into a murder mystery. I honestly did not have any idea how the book would end—which is a delight in and of itself—and was racing to finish to find out what would happen.

Waters is a terrific writer, and she seems to have gotten all the period details right—or at least so it seemed to me. I can't say that I was too fond of any of the main characters; normally that puts me off, but in this case I still found myself thoroughly engrossed. There was also plenty for us to talk about, so if your book group members don't mind a 575-page hardcover, I highly recommend it.

I offered the usual snacks and treats (most from Trader Joe's), and I also made a pesto dip that was simple and tasted great. I can't remember where I found the recipe, but it's pretty basic and could probably be enlivened in any number of ways. At Trader Joe's I had bought a bag of multicolor carrots (orange, yellow, and purple) and a bag of multicolor bell peppers (orange, yellow, and red). I put the bowl of green dip in the middle of a round platter. I cut the veg into sticks and arranged them all around the bowl. It was quite a pretty display, and I'm sorry I neglected to take a photo. I also had bread sticks and crackers to go into the dip. Yum, I do love me some pesto. (But don't bother using your good homemade stuff for this dip—save that for when you plan to enjoy it in its pure form.)

Pesto Dip

1 (7-ounce) container pesto
4 ounces cream cheese, at room temperatures
1/2 cup sour cream plain Greek yogurt
2 tablespoons shredded Parmesan cheese

Combine everything in a food processor or blender and buzz until smooth and creamy.

Eleven Years of Blogging Finally Pays Off

Whoops, I guess I missed my own blogiversary! Last Sunday marked ELEVEN years that I've been blogging chez Verbatim. I'm obviously no longer doing the every-day thing, but I do my best to check in now and again. I want to again say thanks to those of you who still show up here to see what I have to say, and especially to those who occasionally comment below or via email, Facebook, or Twitter so that I know I'm not just hollering into a void.

Meanwhile, something funny happened last week. I got an email from a woman in Florida:

So 10 years ago, on Oct 31, 2005 you posted about a purple stretchy toy lizard. Is there any chance it is still in your possession and if is in reasonable condition? I googled purple toy lizard after our dog managed to eat the legs off my daughters favorite toy and the first image that comes up is yours and it's identical. I have no idea where she got this lizard toy, but she's had it for years. Poor girl was in tears, which is not like her at all. I managed to cheer her up, but decided to see if we could find a replacement. Just wanted to see if you still had one and would let me buy it from you, strange I know.

The post (and lizard) in question are here. Julie was all of FOUR years old at the time.

I wrote back and said that I was sorry, but we'd long ago given away all of our little toys like that. Later on I told Julie the story, and she said, "Mom! We still have that lizard! It's under the couch in the den!" And sure enough, there it was. (The irony is not lost on me, that she's the one who knew where it was.) 

So I wrapped it up and sent it off to Florida (no, I didn't let her buy it), and a few days later she wrote back to say that her daughter was thrilled to be reunited with her beloved lizard!

Try pulling off a stunt like that pre-Internet, huh?

Dinner at Grandma's

It's been a while since I've done any blogging, let alone reviewed a cookbook, but here I am to take care of both matters in one swell foop.

Here's a terrific idea for a cookbook, right there in its title: 

(In case you can't read it, it's In Her Kitchen: Stories and Recipes from Grandmas Around the World.)

Photographer Gabriele Galimberti set out on a trip around the world (60 countries!) to visit grandmothers in their own kitchens and see what they're cooking. Each photo essay includes a photo of the woman, along with a brief bio, a photo of her signature dish, and the recipe.

Galimberti's last meal before he left was his own nonna's ravioli, which is the first photo essay in the book. From there we leap all over the globe to meet grandmas making stuffed grape leaves in Armenia, ceviche in Peru, fish in coconut sauce in Fiji, lamb and vegetable soup in Iceland, and rice and lentils in Lebanon. This is most definitely a book more for looking through than cooking from—I'm not likely to be making shark in coconut soup (Philippines), iguana with rice and beans (Cayman Islands), or bull meat and vegetable soup (Norway). And certainly not caterpillars in tomato sauce, which we're told is a staple food item in Malawi, where the people in small villages must eat whatever they can find—Galimberti says, in fact, that what they call "caterpillars" are actually the maggots of moth-like insects. Very eye-opening, to say the least.

Even more than the food photos, I loved looking at the photos of the women in their kitchens, whether it was a bright modern room in Iceland or a thatched hut in Cambodia or an outdoor table in Haiti. This is a fascinating tour of the world's cultures via their food—and via the women who cook it every day for their families. It made me miss my own Grandma Sophie, and especially her chicken soup, mandel bread, and kugel.

I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review. All opinions are my own.

Amazonian

I know we are all supposed to hate Amazon, but I don't. I love Amazon. Granted, I wasn't too happy last year when they were screwing over some of my Hachette authors, but I couldn't boycott. I just couldn't.

Let me first say that I also love my neighborhood indie bookstores, particularly the New England Mobile Book Fair and Newtonville Books. My first choice is always to buy my books at one of those stores. If they don't have what I need and I have time, I order it from them. But if I don't have time, and I need it tomorrow, I get it from Amazon.

But I get so much more than books from Amazon. Looking at my last few non-book orders: earbuds, tea bags, water filter, humidifier, wheelchair. And a few months ago I finally explored their "Subscribe and Save" program, which is amazing. You agree to get a delivery of a certain item every x months (you decide), and you get 5% off and free shipping. But you can cancel the subscription any time you want! I use this for things that we use regularly but that are a pain in the neck to buy at the store, like bags of dry cat food and giant packages of toilet paper. They arrive at my door just before we run out! (You can easily change the subscription schedule if you need to.) One more thing I don't have to worry about.

Of course I have Amazon Prime, which allows me to get free two-day shipping on almost anything. Often the items come the very next day. Prime also allows me to stream certain videos for free, which I always forget I can do!

I also finally got the Amazon VISA card, where you earn points for every purchase anywhere. I used it for quite a few of Julie's Bat Mitzvah expenses (flowers, booze, chair rentals, etc.) and earned so many points that for some time after, every time I put something in my Amazon cart it was free! I know that lots of people have credit cards that earn them air miles, but we don't travel enough for that to be worth our while. All these years I've been using my L.L. Bean VISA, which I still have, to earn free snowpants and parkas and boots and backpacks. Now I'm mostly using the Amazon one.)

Another thing you can do is have a portion of all your Amazon purchases go to the charity of your choice. All you have to do is begin all your purchases at Smile.Amazon.com instead of just Amazon.com. (I frankly wish it would happen automatically. I sometimes forget to go to Smile, and usually but not always a reminder pops up to ask if I want to go to Smile. Yes. Always.) My current pick is charity:water, a nonprofit that brings clean, safe drinking water to people in developing nations. 

Finally, I get a few pennies every time one of you lovely people purchases something on Amazon by using one of my embedded links or buy starting your shopping trip in the Amazon search thingy in my sidebar (which is not visible in Chrome for no good reason I can think of). My goal is for that to cover my annual fee to Typepad for hosting my blog.

So, if you must, go ahead and tell my why I should still hate Amazon. Lalalalalalalalala I can't hear you!

Interwebby Things Worth Checking Out

Oliver Sacks, upon learning that he has terminal cancer: "There is no time for anything inessential." This brought to mind Roger Angell's amazing piece on aging in the New Yorker last winter, which this winter won a National Magazine Award. Takes my breath away.

I am not happy when people die, of course, but I am happy when I get to read an obit by Margalit Fox in the Times. She is the best in the business. Here's one for my fellow crossword-loving pals.

Meanwhile, some genius paired quotations from Samuel Beckett with photos of the horror that has been this winter in New England (so far!).

These confessions of a "comma queen" at the New Yorker made for some great reading for this editor, and I am delighted to learn that this essay is an excerpt from a forthcoming book. I am even more delighted that I will be able to meet the author in March—stay tuned for details!

Here's John Malkovich being everyone in every famous painting ever. 

And yeah, Misha still has it. Totally.

Take a wicked awesome tour of Boston with a David Foster Wallace/Infinite Jest junkie.

How to Braise

Remember a few months ago when I accidentally received two copies of a cookbook I'd edited for Michael Ruhlman? Well, lucky me (and lucky you, as you'll soon see), it happened again! Whoever keeps mistakenly putting my name twice on the publication shipping list, thanks!

Last time it was How to Roast, and this time it's How to Braise. As you have no doubt guessed, this is the beginning of a whole series of slim volumes, each describing a particular technique and providing a couple dozen recipes demonstrating the technique. (Next up: How to Sauté.)

So, what is braising? It's certainly not as well-known a term as roasting or sautéing. Braising involves searing food (usually meat) and then cooking it (usually for a long time) in liquid until it's tender. After the introductory section of the book, which tells you everything you need to know about this technique, the recipe section leads off with the iconic braise, Lamb Shanks. This is a classic example of the wonder of the braise, because you take a rather unappealing-looking cut of meat and turn it into the most elegant, rich, satisfying dish. And that's what Ruhlman find so exciting about braising: It transforms food in a way that most other cooking techniques don't. You're not just browning the meat, you're turning it into something else entirely.

There are recipes for braised beef and chicken and duck legs, but also a few veggies you might not have thought to braise, like radishes and Spanish onions.

As always, Donna Turner Ruhlman's photos throughout are both gorgeous and instructive, so you'll see not only a preview of the finished product, but also how each step in the process ought to look along the way, which is especially helpful for a technique that might be new to you.

Oh, and for those who've asked, yes, the Acknowledgments page is the first thing my family turns to whenever one of "my" books comes in the mail:

Anyhow, thanks to another paperwork error, I'd like to give away my extra copy of this book to one of my (U.S.) readers. Leave me a comment below about anything to do with braising—a recipe you love, a recipe you want to try, a question, anything. Be sure to leave your email address so I can contact you if you're the winner! I'll pick a random comment on Monday at noon (Boston time) and contact the winner for a snail-mail address.

Heritage Cooking

Way back in November, before all the Bad Stuff happened, I won a giveaway from Artisan Books! (You do subscribe to their e-newsletter, right?) The prize was a doozy: first, a signed copy of Sean Brock's amazing cookbook Heritage, which the New York Times Book Review called "the blue ribbon chef cookbook of the year, without a doubt." The back cover is plastered with glowing praise from the likes of Anthony Bourdain, Mario Batali, David Chang, and more.

The inscription with Brock's autograph is "Cook with soul," and that's also the first item in his manifesto, with an important expansion: "Cook with soul—but first, get to know your soul." And the second one directly addresses the title of the book: "Be proud of your roots, be proud of your home, be proud of your family and its culture. That's your inspiration." And this book is most definitely a reflection of Brock's Southern heritage.

Other items on his manifesto are "Do as little as possible to an ingredient when it's perfect and at its peak" and one of my faves, "Cook using your instincts. Cooking times are just guidelines."* The last item is "He who dies with the biggest pantry wins." And to that end, the rest of my haul from this giveaway was a gorgeous assortment of grains from Anson Mills, purveyors of "handmade mill goods from organic heirloom grain." Look at all this amazing stuff I got:

These will be perfect for trying Brock's recipes for Cracklin' Cornbread and Savory Benne Wafers. I'm also eyeing his Chicken Simply Roasted in a Skillet, Slow-Cooked Rib Eye with Potato Confit and Green Garlic-Parsley Butter, and Buttermilk Pie with Cornmeal Crust. Yum. Everything in this cookbook looks wonderful (thanks to gorgeous photography by Peter Frank Edwards).

I think it's time for me to get cooking....

*When I edit cookbooks, I always change sentences like "Sauté the onions for 15 minutes, or until golden brown" to "Sauté the onions until golden brown, about 15 minutes." To me, what I call the doneness cue (in this case, "golden brown") is the key. Depending on your onions and the fat you use, your pan and your stove, and your kitchen's ambient temperature that day, browning onions could take considerably less or more time than 15 minutes. I want home cooks to learn to trust their own judgment—if the onions are golden brown but it's been only 10 minutes, they're done; and if they're still not golden brown after 15 minutes, keep sautéing. There are exceptions, of course, but for the most part the timing is indeed just a guideline, as Brock says. And it's an important guideline—it helps you plan your time in the kitchen so that everything is done when you want it to be done, and it lets you know if you're way off on something—so I'm frequently nagging my authors with "About how long will that take?" if they provide only a doneness cue. But I also nag them to provide a doneness cue when they give only a time guideline—if, for instance, they say, "Bake for 35 to 45 minutes," how will we know when to take it out of the oven? Ah, "when a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean."

Book Group

The members of my book group were notified that we were required by law to read All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr immediately, since we were the last people on the planet who hadn't read it. So we did, and we met last week to discuss it.

Here's the summary from Amazon, where it was a best book of the month (8/14): 

Does the world need yet another novel about WWII? It does when the novel is as inventive and beautiful as this one by Anthony Doerr. In fact, All the Light We Cannot See—while set mostly in Germany and France before and during the war—is not really a “war novel.” Yes, there is fear and fighting and disappearance and death, but the author’s focus is on the interior lives of his two characters. Marie-Laure is a blind 14-year-old French girl who flees to the countryside when her father disappears from Nazi-occupied Paris. Werner is a gadget-obsessed German orphan whose skills admit him to a brutal branch of Hitler Youth. Never mind that their paths don’t cross until very late in the novel, this is not a book you read for plot (although there is a wonderful, mysterious subplot about a stolen gem). This is a book you read for the beauty of Doerr’s writing—“Abyss in her gut, desert in her throat, Marie-Laure takes one of the cans of food…”—and for the way he understands and cherishes the magical obsessions of childhood. Marie-Laure and Werner are never quaint or twee. Instead they are powerful examples of the way average people in trying times must decide daily between morality and survival.

That pretty much sums it up for me. It's a very long book (544 pages), but the chapters are each just two or three pages, so the reading goes fast. The chapters mostly alternate between Marie-Laure's and Werner's point of view, and the time frame shifts back and forth between certain days in 1941 and 1944. I really love Doerr's writing; there were many gorgeous turns of phrase that took my breath away. 

There's virtually no mention of the Holocaust in this book, because that's not the experience of the two main characters, although we as readers obviously know what's going on and what's going to happen in the larger picture. 

Everyone in the group enjoyed the book, although some people did not like that Werner was a sympathetic character, since he is indeed doing Hitler's bidding. That didn't bother me, because I felt that he was just a kid trying to stay alive in a very brutal situation. Indeed, with the exception of a few sympathetic souls, pretty much all of the Germans were portrayed as either monsters or buffoons.

I did not care much for the subplot about the stolen gem—it was there as a plot device to throw everyone together, but otherwise it did nothing for me.

Next time we're reading The Paying Guests by Sarah Waters, which I have been dying to read. What are you guys reading?

Status Report

Hey, remember me? I blog here?

So, first of course is the Steph update. She did get the cast off and stitches out a week ago Thursday, so we could get a good look at the incisions, bruising, swelling, scars, scabs, etc. (Gross? I’ll show you gross.) Then she got fitted for a “boot,” which the surgeon said is mostly to protect her when she’s out and about, but she doesn’t need to wear it all the time. Which means … shower time! She has showered every day since then; once we get her onto the shower seat, she can close the door and do her thing. Yay!

And then last Tuesday she went back to school! First we met with the housemaster, guidance counselor, and nurse to figure out logistics. Like, how will she get from one end of this big school to the other? (A friend will be allowed to leave early with her and push her in the wheelchair, using the elevators when necessary.) What about P.E. and working at the preschool? (Not gonna happen.) What about the bathroom? (The nurse has a giant bathroom that she can easily wheel into and a bar to hang onto so she can hop over to the john.) What if there’s a fire drill, not necessarily a planned one (which they sort of wink-wink said is “unlikely”) but one where some idiot pulls the thing (also unlikely since they’ve installed surveillance cameras) or where the electrical system fails (a real possibility)? (At this point we all blanched. The elevators would be inaccessible, so if she wasn’t on the first floor, they’d have to find someone to carry her down the stairs. There won’t be a fire drill, right? Right?)

Then the guidance counselor wheeled her off to her first class, and I went home. Without her. For the first time in almost 3 weeks! And then I picked her up, and she was fine! And back we’ve gone every day since, with me dropping her off before her first academic class and picking her up after her last, and friends (who are all so. totally. getting taken out to dinner when this is all over) pushing her around all day when the distances are too far for her to maneuver herself. Her schedule is different every day, so my own schedule has been … interesting, shall we say. 

But she’s doing it, and that’s the important thing. She also started physical therapy last Thursday, and she’ll be going twice a week to strengthen all those muscles in preparation of the day when she gets to put weight down! We see the surgeon in less than a month about that. Sheesh, what a long haul. 

I said that “first” would be the Steph update, but it turns out that’s all I have in me, so other updates will come later in the week, I hope.

Progress Report

So far, so good. Steph is quite good at getting around the house with her walker, to the point that we finally got to move the commode out of the living room! Yay! (Although let me say that the commode is maybe the greatest invention ever—I never thought I'd be so thrilled to have a toilet in my living room until I had a kid who couldn't get to the bathroom! I wish we'd known about this when Andy had all his bazillion orthopedic surgeries.)

The physical therapist who came to the house was appalled at the rental wheelchair we'd gotten—she said, "That looks like something at a VA hospital!" And at $90/month to rent, it was a no-brainer to buy a better one from Amazon for $123, that we now own. 

We decided against the knee scooter; the school nurse thought that it would be a nightmare in the crowded school hallways, and I'm not sure it would be easy enough for Steph to hop off and into a chair—she still has some balance issues. And, in any event, she is supposed to keep the foot up as much as possible, so a wheelchair makes more sense. 

I  finally got a plastic cast-protector thingy for the shower, which worked great, although I did still put about a mile of plastic wrap over the cast first just in case. It's still not easy to get her into the shower, but those days are numbered anyhow, because she's getting the stitches out and the cast off on Thursday! Then she gets a boot thing, which she can remove for showering. We'll have to ask whether she needs to wear it all the time otherwise (like for sleeping); I suspect yes. We also need to find out whether she can (or perhaps even should) move her ankle at all for the next month or so while she still can't put weight on that foot.

The semester ends on Friday, and then we have the long MLK weekend, so she's going back to school next Tuesday. We've worked it out with her guidance counselor and teachers so that she won't get any "incomplete" grades, since her recalculated GPA gets sent to her colleges. Phew. We're starting off on Tuesday meeting with the guidance counselor, housemaster, and school nurse to figure out all the logistics for getting her to and from her classes, bathroom stops, lunchtime, etc. I imagine she'll be on a modified schedule as much as possible, which will probably make me want to tear my hair out because I'm going to have to drive her back and forth to school every day at a different time! As it is, I honestly don't know what we would do if I didn't work from home.

New Year, New Bionic Daughter

Steph's surgery went well, and everyone at the Newton-Wellesley Hospital was just wonderful. We have always suspected that nurses are perhaps the highest life-form on Earth, and last week just solidified this for us.

And now we're home, and the big difference from last week is that Steph is now getting better, instead of just hanging around waiting to be repaired. Last week the pain was kind of constant, but now it is actually abating! Yay!

Logistics are still an issue, but we have figured out a way to get her up and down the stairs with little assistance, so tonight is the big night we've all been waiting for, when she and I will each sleep in our own beds, for the first time since December 23. Ready? Yeah, I am kinda.

A week from tomorrow she gets the stitches out and the cast off, then "just" another month of no weight bearing, but at least she'll be able to get the damn thing wet. (Showering has been a nightmare. Pro tip: Buy stock in plastic wrap now.)

The semester ends next Friday, so we decided that it doesn't make sense for her to try to go back to school before then. Her teachers have unanimously declared that she's the most conscientious student on the planet, so her grades won't suffer. Not that it matters a whole lot, because in case I haven't had a chance to mention it, she has already gotten in to several colleges, including her top two picks! We have CHOICES, and that's a very good thing. 

Many thanks to all for the supportive tweets, FB messages, and emails. We will get there, by and by.

Oh, One More Thing

Well, apparently 2014 wasn't quite finished effing with this family. On Christmas Eve morning, Steph slipped and fell while running errands and ended up being taken by ambulance to the ER. She managed to break both bones in her ankle. The x-ray of her tibia and fibula looks like this:

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Really. (There's also a third break, but it's so small we're not even going to worry about it!) They put her under to realign the bones and then wrapped her up in a splint/cast-type thing. They said she would definitely need surgery but because the bones in the ankle are right under the skin, they have to wait until there's no swelling at all. So we saw the surgeon yesterday, and he said she can have the surgery on Friday. He's going to install a metal plate and 6 screws on one of the bones and 2 screws on the other. He said that the hardware can stay in forever, but some people are bothered by it and have it removed in a year or two.

Worst of all, it's a very long recovery period: She has to stay completely off that foot for 6 whole weeks! The first 2 weeks she'll be in a cast. Then they'll remove the cast and the stitches and put her in a "boot"—but not the kind of boot you can put weight on—for another 4 weeks. She'll have to use crutches or a wheelchair that whole time. Andy (who has way more experience with crutches than anyone should have) has been working with her on crutching around, but it's very hard for her balance- and stability-wise, so I think she'll go back to school in a wheelchair whenever that time comes. 

She really can't maneuever by herself at all, so she and I have been camped out in the living room all this time–she's on the couch and I'm on the air mattress. Andy and I managed to get her upstairs and into the shower over the weekend, which took approximately 50 hours (or so it seemed). We might try it again today....

Meanwhile, she is just such a trouper through all of this, it practically breaks my heart.

Eat!

Quite a few weeks ago, I received a cookbook for review and am only just now getting around to posting that review. Yes, I was busy, but I also have to admit that I was disappointed with the book and thus not inspired to write about it.

I had high hopes for Eat by Nigel Slater, which was the 2013 Cookbook of the Year according to the Times of London; they called it "an instant classic." Slater is nearly always described as "Britain's foremost food writer," and I've heard him—and enjoyed listening to him—a few times on The Splendid Table.

The subtitle is "The Little Book of Fast Food," and that's a pretty apt description, as these aren't complicated recipes. Indeed, many of the "recipes" are really just ideas for food combinations, often without any precise measurements or instructions. That suits me just fine, as I don't need to know every little detail for very simple recipes. But the truth is that nothing leaped out at me as something I just had to try. Some flat-out didn't appeal to me, like Rib and Rhubarb Broth, or Strawberry and Cucumber Salad, or Grilled Kippers, Beets, and Horseradish Mash. Others were just so basic that I was all ho-hum, like Beef Sandwich, whose ingredients are "leftover gravy, cherry tomatoes, roast beef leftovers, fresh horseradish, mayonnaise, rolls." How is this a "recipe"? This is just making a sandwich out of what's in the fridge! Same for Spiced Scrambled Eggs, or Risotto, or Chorizo and Potatoes—none of these offer anything one would need a cookbook for.

Each chapter (and they have cutesy names like "In a Bowl" or "On the Stove") begins with "a few favorites," which, I'm sorry to say again, don't strike me as cookbook-worthy. Here's an example from "In the Hand":

The Italian
Paper-thin air-dried ham and soft, flour-dusted, airy bread such as ciabatta. I have been known to tuck in a basil leaf or two. You can brush the cut bread with olive oil, but the holes prevent the inclusion of any sort of spread.

So this would be yummy, but why is it in a cookbook? This is what you make when you don't have the time or energy to follow a recipe. Even this, from "Little Stews": 

Chicken thighs, golden skin, herbs, a flash of lemon
Let 4 chicken thighs, skin on and nicely seasoned, cook in a generous slice of butter in a shallow pan till their skin is crisp and golden. Pour in a glass of white wine, a medium-dry Riesling perhaps, then scrape at the crusted sediment with a wooden spoon, stirring it into the bubbling wine. Finish with chopped herbs: parsley, chervil, tarragon, dill—one or two only. Stir in the juice of a lemon and a last slice of butter, whisking it into the juices.

It's more of a "recipe," I suppose, and surely delicious, but still: been there, done that. (And I suspect that a novice cook who had never pan-fried chicken might need more explicit instructions.) 

My last complaint is about the design. Some of the recipes offer a few variations, but the presentation is confusing. The main recipe itself is on the right-hand page, and the variations are on the left. So when you turn a page, the first thing you see are the variations for a recipe that you haven't gotten to yet. For instance, on the right is Crab Mac and Cheese; the variations on the left tell you how to make the Classic (leave out the crab, duh), Blue Cheese Mac (add blue cheese), and Leek Macaroni Cheese (add sautéed leeks). I can't imagine why they decided to present the recipes this way. 

So, I'm not a fan. Maybe the key is in the title: Eat (not Cook). But then why Cookbook of the Year?

I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review. All opinions are my own.

Memories of Mystic Mints

Just in time for those of you who have holiday baking to do, here's a festive cookie recipe that Julie made for my book group's holiday party, and they came out delicious. They are exactly like the Mystic Mints of the 1970s, which my sister and I used to devour. (I found a Facebook page that is hoping to get enough "likes" to urge Nabisco to start making them again.)

My photos came out lousy, so I will use Sarah Coates's lovely photo over at Food52, where I found the recipe in the first place:

So, you get a nice chocolate cookie on the bottom, then a thin layer of peppermint creamy stuff, and then the whole thing is dipped in melted chocolate. I'm not a huge fan of peppermint, but I still love these (and also Girl Scouts' Thin Mints, of course). Instead of peppermint extract, Julie used peppermint oil, which is much more concentrated, so she used just a scant ⅛ teaspoon. I found them a wee bit too pepperminty still, so I think just a few drops would be perfect.

Homemade Mystic Mint Cookies

4 ounces butter, at room temperature
½ cup granulated sugar
1 egg
¼ cup cocoa powder
1 cup all-purpose flour
1½ cups powdered sugar
1 tablespoon water
½ teaspoon peppermint extract (See note above re using peppermint oil.)
4 ounces milk chocolate
2 ounces dark chocolate (There was barely enough melted chocolate to coat all 20 cookies, so consider adding another ounce or so.)
1 tablespoon coconut oil or vegetable oil

Cream together the butter and granulated sugar until light and fluffy. Scrape down the bowl, add the egg, and continue beating until the egg is incorporated and the mixture lightens in color. Add the cocoa powder to the egg mixture and beat until there are no lumps. Finally, fold in the flour until it is all incorporated.

The dough will be very soft. Turn it out onto a piece of parchment paper, roll it into a log about 1½ inches thick, and wrap the dough. (Julie said it stuck to the paper a bit.) Place the log in the freezer to chill for at least 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 350° and line two baking sheets with Silpats or parchment paper. When the dough is finished chilling, take it out of the freezer and slice the log into rounds just under ½ inch thick; you should get about 20. Place the cookies on the baking sheets and bake for 10 minutes. (There's no doneness cue here, but they will start to smell good!) Remove from the oven and set aside to cool completely on the baking sheets.

To make the mint filling, stir together the powdered sugar, water, and peppermint extract. The mixture should be very thick, like the texture of playdough. (Julie's was somewhat crumbly, so she added a tiny bit more water.) Take a scant teaspoon of the mint filling and put it atop each cookie, using your fingers to pat and smooth it down to cover the top but stopping shy of the edge of the cookie.

To coat the cookies, melt the chocolate and the oil together in the microwave in short bursts, stirring well between each burst until you have a smooth mixture. Let the melted chocolate cool slightly, and set a rack over a sheet of foil or parchment paper.

Dip each cookie in the chocolate, coating it completely. Set them on the rack to drip and set. (We put the rack and foil right in the fridge.) Once they're set, store them in a covered container in the fridge, where they'll keep well for at least a week. They also freeze beautifully for up to a month—and even taste great straight out of the freezer.

Paella Perfection

I have plenty to catch up on these days, including blogging about some things that were going on around the time my dad got sick.

Just about a month ago, I went with a friend to Dave's Fresh Pasta, which is a wonderful store in Somerville that I had somehow never been to. They sell ... well, everything! Fresh pasta (of course), plus gourmet items like fancy-shmancy mustard and imported rice and olive oil, fresh bread, homemade sauces, artisanal cheeses, tons of prepared foods (both fresh and frozen), wine and beer, and more. It looks as though one small shop kept expanding to neighboring shops, because the whole place is like a series of rooms, each with more delectable goodies than the last. 

They also offer wine-tasting and cooking classes, and that night we were there for a paella class! There were about a dozen of us, and it was much more of a hands-on evening than just a watch-and-learn. We nibbled on the ingredients while slicing vegetables, sautéing shrimp, drinking wine, and marinating chicken. Here's how it turned out:

Awesome, right?

I've made paella before, but I might try Chef Jason's recipe next time. (I had to pick up some Palacio chorizo while I was there, of course, and now it's just calling to me....) 

Photo Album

I finally have some photos to share of Julie’s Bat Mitzvah! I keep thinking I’ll get more soon, but I might as well just post a few now. (Those of you on FB may have already seen a few of these.)

Here's the main attraction herself:

and with her proud parents:

and the whole family:

(Yes, I'm really that short. Let's move on.)

At the party, the kids' tables had these awesome balloons:

and the adults' tables had gorgeous flowers:

Of course we again used Linda Marino at La Bonne Maison caterers (and she's also the one who sourced those beautiful balloons and flowers). She is the best in the business. We did mostly a combination of our favorite foods from Steph's and Pete's, with a few new items thrown in for fun. Hors d'oeuvres were:

Petite Filet Mignon with Herb Butter
Baby Lamb Chops with Mint Mustard
Wild Mushroom Purses
Crispy Manchego with Claret Syrup
Smoked Fish on Black Bread with Horseradish
Hoison Duck on Scallion Pancake
Vegetarian Peking Ravioli with Soy Ginger

For the first course, we had a soup and salad combo (because I couldn't make up my mind): Winter Squash Soup with Parmigiano Croutons, and Mixed Greens with Dried Berries and Pepitas. The main course was Pistachio-Coated Chicken Breast with Red Wine, Cranberry, and Orange Sauce served with five-grain pilaf and a mélange of winter vegetables. There was also a roasted plum tomato stuffed with something luscious. And for dessert, again because I couldn't make up my mind, each person got a dish with four individual compartments: (1) chocolate bread pudding, (2) caramel ice cream, (3) apple crisp, and (4) a dollop of whipped cream. Something for everyone!

At all three of our kids' parties we have had people come up to us practically speechless because the food is so exceptionally delicious. I just can't say enough wonderful things about Bonne Maison. 

VERY Mixed Emotions

Julie’s Bat Mitzvah was a beautiful day, and something of an antidote to the very difficult week leading up to it. I was worried that there would be a somber air hovering over her big day, but there wasn’t. There were sad moments for sure, but all in all it was a chance for us to surround ourselves with loved ones and celebrate Julie.

I expect to get the photos soon and will share some with you, and also the menu and highlights, but today I just want to talk about the juxtaposition of Dad’s funeral and Julie’s Bat Mitzvah, exactly 48 hours apart.

I had called my rabbi the week before Dad died, asking for help weathering the emotional tempest I knew was coming. I knew my Dad was going soon, and all I could think about was Julie. Every night I would lie in bed counting the days and wondering how it would all work—both logistically and emotionally. The rabbi’s advice seems very simple but had a profound effect on how I coped. He encouraged me not to think of joy and sorrow as mutually exclusive. He said that these two emotions can coexist—that I can weep for my Dad at Julie’s Bat Mitzvah and dance the hora with her though I’m in mourning. He was of course just pointing out that humans are capable of this, but it almost felt as though he were giving me permission. He also said that when a person is in a place of great sorrow and then experiences great joy, that joy is heightened and intensified. He said he sees this phenomenon all the time and has experienced it himself, and he promised it would happen to me. (Spoiler alert: He was right!)

(I should mention here that in Judaism, a celebration always takes precedence over a funeral. The old story that is told is of a wedding procession and a funeral procession reaching an intersection at the same moment. The funeral procession stops and lets the wedding procession go ahead. So there was not even a chance that we would put off Julie’s Bat Mitzvah.)

In Judaism, you’re supposed to have the funeral as soon as possible after someone dies (although never on Shabbat [Saturday, the Sabbath]). Dad died on Monday, and we knew it would take a couple of days for the body to be prepared and sent up from Florida, so we planned the funeral for Thursday. And that meant that there was a silver lining on this very dark cloud: Mom would be able to come to Julie’s Bat Mitzvah. We’d known for a few weeks that Dad wouldn’t be coming up, and there was no way she’d leave him. But she was so sad at the thought of missing the opportunity to see her seventh grandchild up on the bimah. I told her that maybe Dad’s last good deed on this planet was to let go in time for her to come up here and celebrate with us.

The week was a surreal mix of making funeral and party arrangements at the same time. At one point I was on the phone talking about caskets when I heard the “call waiting” beep. I looked at the caller ID and it was the balloon people. Then there were programs to be printed up—for both events. Every time the phone rang, I wondered whether I would be talking about Yahrzeit candles or M&Ms imprinted with “Mazel Tov, Julie Mae!” I honestly didn’t know which end was up.

The funeral was very difficult for all of us, of course, and we were very grateful for the support of relatives and friends from all over. My sisters and I had met with the rabbi (not mine, my sister’s) to talk to him about Dad, and he wove our memories and descriptions into a beautiful eulogy; my mother thought it was perfect.

Then began the shiva, which is a week of mourning. I was very glad to have Friday, a day in between the funeral and the Bat Mitzvah, because I was completely wiped out by then. I let the kids skip school (I am normally really strict about such things, but this one was a no-brainer); Andy’s sister took Steph and Julie for mani-pedi’s, then got Pete and took them all out for lunch. Me, I was running on empty with no sleep the night before and a very messed-up stomach, which I took as a hint that I needed to just rest quietly at home.

Friday night we went to services at the temple (we were planning to go anyhow, as it is traditional to go the night before a Bat Mitzvah), and it was the first time that I was one of the ones who had to stand for the Mourner’s Kaddish, and say my dad’s name. But here’s something interesting: Although you say Kaddish on Shabbat, you aren’t allowed to mourn. Of course you can’t prevent yourself from feeling grief, but you don’t sit shiva, you don’t wear a torn garment or black ribbon, and so on. Shabbat literally means “stop,” and you’re supposed to take a break every week from work and obligations and worries and everything else you’re doing—including mourning—and take a day to relax and recharge. Or, in our case, celebrate. And that will be the subject of the next post….

Limbo

Yesterday was Dad's funeral, and tomorrow is Julie's Bat Mitzvah.

I have no idea what today is.

Stay tuned....

Dad

I have to share with you the sad news that my dad passed away on Monday at the age of 86. You may recall that my parents had sold their Cape condo and were moving down to Florida to become year-rounders. They left on October 18; Andy drove them to the airport and reported that Dad seemed perfectly fine, even lugged the suitcases out of the car with no problem. On November 2 he went to the ER with shortness of breath, spent a week in the hospital, received a diagnosis of advanced lung cancer, and then went home. He was gone three weeks later.

It was awfully quick, yes, but long enough that I got a chance to fly down to Florida and say my goodbyes. He was lucid right to the end, and not in any great pain, for which I’m grateful. We even managed to make each other laugh a little bit while I visited.

My parents celebrated their 61st anniversary last February—a very exclusive club, as Andy points out. 

Dad painted in his spare time; his artwork adorns the walls of all his children and grandchildren’s homes. This one’s my favorite; it hangs in my living room:

 

He was also an avid gardener, golfer, traveler, and food lover. He taught his daughters how to play poker and how to body surf (we called it “taking in a wave”). He was really smart and had a wicked sense of humor.

Here’s my favorite photo of Dad, from when he was about 23 or 24, in Germany:

The funeral will be held tomorrow. Rest in peace, Dad. I love you.

How to Roast

Every job has its perks, and my favorite perk is getting a free copy of (most of) the books I work on! Especially because I edit so many cookbooks, and I do love cookbooks.

My latest cookbook to arrive in the mail was Michael Ruhlman's How to Roast, which is the first in a series of short books devoted to specific culinary techniques. (How to Braise will be out in the winter.) It's awesome—recipes for roasted chicken (of course), root veggies, rack of lamb, shellfish, whole head of cauliflower, and more. And all accompanied by Michael's wife Donna's luscious photos, showing you each step in the process as well as the (gorgeous) finished products.

Thanks to a paperwork error (I'm guessing), I received two copies of How to Roast, and I'd like to share one with one of my (U.S.) readers. Leave me a comment below about anything to do with roasting—a recipe you love, a recipe you want to try, a question, anything. Be sure to leave your email address so I can contact you if you're the winner! I'll pick a random comment on Monday at noon (Boston time) and contact the winner for a snail-mail address.

Good luck, and happy roasting!

On the Side

One night last week we had something-or-other for dinner (pork tenderloins, maybe?), and I made this quick pan-roasted root veg side dish that turned out splendid. The only problem was that I doubled everything—except the size of the pan!—so the veggies did not quite reach optimal browning and caramelization. We preferred the carrots and parsnips to the turnips, so next time there will be no turnips. And a larger pan.

Ten-Minute Root Vegetables

½ cup water
2 medium carrots, cut into ½ x ½ x 2" sticks (about 2 cups)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 teaspoon sugar
½ teaspoon table salt
2 small parsnips, cut into ½ x ½ x 2" sticks (about 1 cup)
1 small turnip, cut into ½ x ½ x 2" sticks (about 1 cup)

Bring the water, carrots, butter, sugar, and salt to a boil over high heat in a large skillet and cook for 2 minutes.

Add the parsnips and cook an additional 2 minutes.

Add the turnip and continue cooking, stirring about every minute, until all of the liquid is evaporated and the vegetables are tender, browned, and shiny, about 6 minutes longer.

Adjust the seasoning with salt and pepper to taste and serve immediately.

 

Puzzling

If you know me even a little bit—in real life or online—then you know that I love puzzles. Whether it's sudoku or crossword, kenken or acrostic, I'm game. (Get it?) So I was delighted to receive a review copy of Bend Your Brain: 151 Puzzles, Tips, and Tricks to Blow (and Grow) Your Mind, which comes from the folks behind Marbles: The Brain Store.

The book is filled with a wide variety of puzzles divided into five "brain categories": visual perception, word skills, critical thinking, coordination, and memory. Within each category, the puzzles go from "mind-warming" to "mind-stretching" to "mind-blowing." However, not surprisingly, I didn't always find the levels to be accurate—especially for puzzles that have to do with trivia (you either know it or you don't!). And, some puzzles just didn't interest me at all. But on the whole this is a fun and unique collection of puzzles, and there's bound to be something here for everyone, whatever your interest. There are also "brain facts" scattered throughout the book.

Julie got to the book before I did and got busy right away—there were plenty of puzzles that she could handle, or at least start. Oh, but we did find a few errors, which is annoying to say the least, especially in the answer key! (Anyone know a good editor...?) (No, I've never edited a puzzle book, but I bet it would be fun!)

I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review. All opinions are my own.

What Was for Dinner

Here's an interesting variation on the usual pasta-and-cheese casserole or pizza—there's no pasta or pizza crust! So I guess that makes it gluten-free, for those who are looking for that kind of recipe. The base of this casserole is made from zucchini, egg, and cheese. Then on top of that goes tomato sauce with sausage, but you could do just about anything here you want—think of your favorite pizza toppings! (Which makes me realize this would be a good Meatless Monday option, with soysage or just lots of veg.) Then more cheese, of course. 

I served this with salad and (gluteny) garlic bread and everyone was happy. We all ate plenty and there were still leftovers.

Zucchini Pizza Casserole

4 cups shredded zucchini (about 1 pound, or 4–5 smallish zucchinis)
½ teaspoon kosher salt
2 eggs
½ cup grated romano cheese
8 ounces (2 cups) shredded mozzarella cheese
4 ounces (1 cup) shredded provolone cheese
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, diced
1 pound sausage (I used garlic/herb chicken sausage.)
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 (15-ounce) can tomato sauce
1 tablespoon dried Italian herb blend

Preheat the oven to 400°. Lightly coat a 9x13-inch baking dish (I used Pyrex) with nonstick spray.

Place the shredded zucchini in a strainer and sprinkle with the salt. Let drain for 10 minutes, then squeeze out any additional moisture with your hands.

Beat the eggs in a medium bowl. Add the drained zucchini, the romano, half of the mozzarella, and half of the provolone. Stir to combine.

Dump the zucchini mixture into the baking dish and use your hands to press it into a smooth layer. Bake for 20 minutes. It will be lightly brown.

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the onion and sauté until tender, 3 to 4 minutes. Remove the sausage from its casings and crumble the meat into the pan. Cook, stirring frequently and breaking it up into pieces, until no longer pink. Add the garlic and cook for another minute. Stir in the tomato sauce and herbs.

Spoon the sauce over the baked zucchini mixture. Sprinkle the remaining mozzarella and provolone cheeses over the top. Bake until the cheese is melted and starting to brown and the casserole is heated through, about 20 minutes.

Reading*

Over the weekend I read The Good House by Ann Leary.** It's the story of Hildy Good, a real estate broker in Wendover, a fictional town on the North Shore of Boston. Hildy's family has been in the area for generations—she is a descendant of Sarah Good, one of the girls hanged at the Salem witch trials. Hildy is not a witch, but she says, "I can walk through a house once and know more about its occupants than a psychiatrist could after a year of sessions." She also has a party trick where she reads people's minds, but in fact she's just a very good student of what makes people tick.

The one thing that Hildy doesn't seem able to do is get a handle on her drinking, even after her daughters stage an intervention and send her to Hazelden. There are several converging plot lines, but Hildy's alcoholism is the thread running through the book.

This is a quick read, and not terribly demanding, but it kept my interest. I enjoyed meeting the various characters and seeing how the story would unfold. Hildy is a classic unreliable narrator, but you can't help liking her even while you occasionally want to shake her. There was a very warm-hearted humor throughout.

Before that one, I read The Art of Hearing Heartbeats by Jan-Philipp Sendker for book group. We met last night to discuss it. Everyone loved it except for me. I found the writing way too flowery and sappy—so much so that it distracted me from the story. (Or perhaps it was the translator's fault? This was originally written in German.) And I did like the story: A young woman's father vanishes, and she follows his trail to rural Burma, where he grew up. No one in the family had ever known anything about the father's first 20 years of life, and the woman is about to learn more than she ever imagined. It's a beautiful love story, but I found the telling of it eye-rollingly syrupy. I probably should have guessed from the title. But I appear to be in the minority—and a tiny one at that—of non-believers, not just in my book group but in the Amazon comments as well. Anyone out there read it? What did you think?

*When you were little, did you think the railroad in Monopoly was pronounced "reeding" instead of "redding"? (If not, are you from Pennsylvania?) Also: In college I wrote a paper on Oscar Wilde's poem, "The Ballad of Reading Gaol." That's "redding jail," not "reeding goal" as I first imagined.

**Because I am one of maybe eight people on the planet who read every single word of most books, I saw in the Acknowledgments that the author thanks "my dear, dear family: Devin, Jack, and Denis Leary." I saw that lone "n" and thought hmmm. Google confirmed that she's married to that Denis Leary. The author bio that accompanies her photo on the back book flap doesn't even hint at it: "She and her family share their small farm in Conencticut with four dogs, three horses, and an angry cat named Sneakers."