Checking In

I'm starting to feel guilty about the blog. I can tell when my lack of posting here is starting to really bother me; it's when I vacillate about whether or not to link to it when I comment on Pajiba. That's where I've been for the past two weeks (not that I've only been on Pajiba for the past two weeks, but that that feeling is where I've been) . I'm actually in the middle of a post, which I started last week, that I just need to finish.

Part of my annoyance about not having new material up here is that I actually have a couple of things I want to post about, but just haven't gotten around to it. For example, I finished my sixth CBR-II book a couple of weeks ago, but haven't posted a review yet. And I wanted to post about my recent trip to Nashville, while it was still fresh in my head. That was three weeks ago, now. And there's that other post that I mentioned above. Argh. I will get on the ball, at some point, I'm sure.

Oh, and while I'm lamenting/complaining about things, I seem to have maxed out the gadget space on the right-side of the blog, so I can't add new books to my reading list, possible reading list, or recommendations list. I need to do a little research on that. I'm thinking one or more of those lists will have to be transferred to a post that gets semi-regularly updated., was

Anyway, the purpose of this post, was just to let my loyal readers :) know that I'm not ignoring the ol' blog, I'm just, well, kind of, um, ignoring it and thinking about it at the same time.

For Me, This Is AlabamaPink's Day

I will always associate St. Patrick's Day with AlabamaPink (aka Amanda Amos). Two years ago, we found out that Ms. Pink would not be able to hoist her glass with the rest of the boozing Pajibans, because she was going to spend the day hooked up to monitors trying to find out what the hell was going on with her body. Not that long after, we got the bad news of her leukemia diagnosis.

While AlabamaPink launched her fight with this evil disease (did you know that cancer has cankles and terrible halitosis?), the 'Jibans rallied around her: gifts and well wishes were sent, at least one marathon was run, there was a comment thread envisioning the Godtopus & the Murdertank smiting her cancer, Ms. Pink challenged Prisco to the original Cannonball Read and other Pajibans jumped on the bandwagon. Like any community, we support our own.

As I was thinking about what I would say in this post about her, the word that came to mind was fierce. She fought an intensely fierce battle with cancer; she never gave up. And although her body may not have won the war, I have no doubt that her spirit lives on. It is also clear that AlabamaPink fiercely loved her family, and I am thinking especially of her husband and Little A today. Ms. Pink was also fiercely witty. The humor, intelligence, insight, and wit she brought to the comment threads of Pajiba were a thing a beauty.

Last year, about this time, I posted a comment on her blog, because it was St. Patrick's Day and so, of course, I was thinking of her. I wanted her to know that I was holding her in my thoughts and in my heart. I'm 99% sure she never saw that comment, because it didn't get posted until after her death. I take consolation in two things about that: first, knowing that her husband must have seen the comment and knew that the Pajibans were still thinking of and rooting for her; and second, knowing that the most important thing was that that positive and hope-filled energy was being sent her way.

So today, on the holiday that I will always associate with her, I will be raising my glass to celebrate this fierce woman (while wearing my AlabamaPink shirt, of course). I invite the rest of the Pajibans, her friends, and family to do the same

Bundt Cake Season One

Having established the history of Bundt Cake Season, I thought I'd share the cakes of the first Bundt Cake Season. Unfortunately, after all this time, I do not remember the exact order of the cakes--I actually had to refer to my two bundt cake recipe sources to jog my memory of which cakes I made last season. So here's the list, in no particular order:

Chocolate Grand Marnier Cake - This is the cake that started it all, the one brought to Thanksgiving. I recall that it was well received. It has a chocolate & Grand Marnier glaze. Need I say more?

Irish Whiskey Cake - I made this for the Main Squeeze's dad's birthday (which falls shortly after Christmas). It's really just a fancy fruit cake--but with real (dried) fruit (which are soaked in whiskey), not that scary artificial-colored stuff you find in traditional fruit cakes. And this one was tasty, again, unlike traditional fruit cakes.

Honey Cake - A bit of a disappointment, actually. The farm where we have had our summer farm share would sell really fabulous honey cakes for Rosh Hashanah, and I was hoping to replicate that. No dice. My search for a fabulous honey cake recipe continues.

Black Mocha Cake - I don't have much memory of this one. I think it was totally serviceable. Clearly, I should make it again sometime to refresh my memory.

Pecan Cardamon Poundcake - My favorite of Bundt Cake Season One, by far. It was so good, I made it a second time for a pot luck. So. Good. I think it's the coffee glaze that tips the scale to awesomeness.

Brandied Raisin Sour Cream Pound Cake - Another one that does not stand out for me. Again, totally serviceable, but nothing to write home about, I guess.

Nutty Orange Cake - this was the only cake I made from my Bundt Cookbook (which is put out by Nordic Ware, the company that makes many bundt cake pans, including mine) last season. It was delicious! You line the pan with ground nuts (and other ingredients, I just don't remember what exactly--breadcrumbs and butter, probably) so you end up with this really lovely nut topping when you turn it out. The orange flavor was good too.

And that's it.

As for length of Bundt Cake Season One, it started in November and ran through mid-May.

Hamentaschen

When I was 10 or 11, I had my first introduction to Purim. When my sister and I came downstairs that morning, my mom had out The Children's Book of Bible Stories. We read the story of Esther and how she saved the Jewish people from Haman. My mom then presented us with poppy seed Hamentaschen, the special pastry made for Purim. If I remember correctly, the pastries resemble the hat that Haman wore.

It may or may not be important to note that we are not Jewish. I'm not sure exactly why my mom decided to celebrate Purim that year, but I suspect it had everything to do with the fact that it's a holiday that celebrates a woman. And there aren't a lot of those. And she was a smart woman. A woman who was able to save her people from death. That's no small feat.

We didn't mark the occasion after that, but I've always had a special place in my heart for the holiday because of the one year that we did.

Many years later, while in the grocery store around the time of Purim, I saw some poppy seed hamentaschen. I was excited, because I remembered how good the ones were that we had that morning so long ago. Sadly, these hamentaschen were a big disappointment. I think I may have tried them one other time after that, with the same disappointing results. I gave up on the idea of finding good poppy seed hamentaschen and suspected that, someday, I would probably need to make my own. (In retrospect, if I had gotten my hamentaschen from a good bakery, I might have had different results, but then I wouldn't be here now, telling you about my own hamentaschen-making experience. And in my defense, the grocery store does make a very tasty rugalach.)

Over the years, Purim has snuck up on me repeatedly. I miss it every year. I'm guessing this is because I'm not Jewish, so it's not like I have any seasonal or annual reminders, or any Jewish relatives to remind me or with whom to celebrate. So, I'd keep missing my opportunity to try my hand at making hamentaschen--not that I had a recipe with which to work.

This past summer, at the annual reunion we have with my folks' college friends, I was speaking with one of our old family friends and I brought up how I always miss Purim and wanted to make my own hamentaschen (not that I remembered the name of the pastry) and she said that she had a recipe for it. Yay! Here was my in.

Fast forward to February 10th of this year. Determined to not miss Purim again, and thinking it was sometime in March, I put out a request on FB asking my Jewish friends to remind me when it was happening this year. I also specifically asked the daughters of the previously mentioned old family friend if they could get me their mom's hamentaschen recipe. Turns out, Purim falls on the last weekend of February. So, good thing I asked when I did.

The eldest of the sisters, Jennifer, was able to procure her mom's recipe for me. Not only that, but it's a scan of the original, so I get the illustrations and some very helpful additional notes written at the bottom. But it's only for the dough, not any fillings. This is not a problem; however, because I have access to the internet! I find a couple of hamentaschen poppy seed filling recipes online, and identify one as looking most promising (but printed out a second, just in case).

So, Purim weekend rolls around and I go to the local natural food store on Saturday to buy the ingredients I don't have, with fingers crossed that they have enough bulk poppy seeds (I need a 1/2 pound). On the way, I stop at the winter farmers' market (yes, I am very lucky to live in a town with one of these) to pick up another jar of honey (both the dough and the filling call for it). I'm super happy to find everything I need, except eggs. So, I make a second stop at a local grocery and get (relatively) local eggs.

The process starts Saturday night with pouring boiling water over the poppy seeds, so that they can soak overnight. On Sunday morning, as I wait for the Main Squeeze to get ready for a trip to the mall (ugh, the mall), I make the dough--it needs to chill before being rolled out. I have already decided to make a change to the recipe, which calls for shortening. I am wary of shortening--unless you're making a pie crust, and I don't make pies. So I opt for butter instead (mmm, butter). The other ingredients include: flour, honey, eggs, baking soda, and salt.

The original recipe calls for mixing the dough by hand, and since I'm going for the full homemade treatment, I'm going with it. (The old family friend, Judy, now makes hers in her Cuisinart, as I learned from the hand-written note at the bottom of the recipe.) Besides, I don't have any other recipes in my repertoire that call for mixing the ingredients with my hands, so I think this will be fun. It was. But Judy's warning from the summer, that the dough is really sticky, turns out to be quite true. It takes me awhile to extract the dough from my hands and vice versa. But eventually, I am mostly free. And the dough goes into the fridge to chill.

When we get back from the mall (a relatively painless trip, but still, ugh, the mall) and after having lunch, it was time to make the filling. The first step was to drain the poppy seeds. Good thing we have a cheese cloth on hand. The second step is to grind the poppy seeds. They recommend a special poppy seed grinder, but say a coffee grinder will do the trick. I dig ours out of the pantry, and start grinding. Guess what? They just swirl around. Poppy seeds are tiny! They aren't about to be ground by a coffee grinder. So, I decide this is a silly step and move on. (Besides, the poppy seeds in the hamentaschen I've had have been whole, anyway.) Along with the poppy seeds goes in honey, butter, coarsely ground walnuts, golden raisins, a little cream and orange zest. (At least that's what I remember from off the top of my head.) Then the filling went into the fridge to chill as well.

And that's where my plan to have these made for Purim went off the rails. Because now it was time to make dinner. (It didn't help that I had had to make an emergency trip to the hardware store in the middle of the filling making to get something for the Main Squeeze.) And once dinner was over, it was far too late to tackle rolling out dough and forming the hamentaschen and baking them and all that. So, I resigned myself to being a day late and finishing them on Monday.

Monday evening, after dinner, and dinner clean up, I get the dough and the filling out. More flour is added to the dough so it can be handled, the counter is thoroughly floured, as is the rolling pin. I get out a wide-mouth glass and get to rolling, and cutting out circles, and plopping down heaping tablespoons of filling, and folding up the edges in a triangular pattern, and putting them on cookie sheets. They look like hamentaschen. I'm getting excited.

I got at least the three dozen Judy said I would (and I have about 2 cups of leftover filling--note for next year, halve the recipe). They come out of the oven perfectly golden brown. I barely wait for one to cool before testing it. And... Heaven. They are as good as I remember the first hamentaschen I had! SUCCESS!

When the Main Squeeze got home, he loved them too.

So clearly, I will be making my own hamentaschen for all future Purims. And I'm well on my way to being a Jewish grandmother. Except for the Jewish and the grandmother parts.

Bundt Cake Season - The Beginning

I'm not sure exactly why it came up, but a couple of years ago, while visiting with the Main Squeeze's relatives, it was mentioned how, years ago (I think it was about 30) the Main Squeeze's uncle was aghast at the cost of his wife's recent purchase: a bundt pan. But over time, he had come to see the error of his ways, because he had enjoyed so many delicious cakes from that very pan. It turned out to be money well spent.

This conversation got me to thinking. You see, I do not have a particularly strong sweet tooth. ( I don't dislike sweet things, but they are not my weakness.) I did not grow up in a home where we had dessert regularly, nor were baked goods usually to be found. They were an occasional item, and therefore a special treat. And I have, in the past, found iced cakes to be too sweet. Now, that could very well be due to too many grocery store bakery cakes, which I find too sweet--the icing is so sweet, it makes the roof of my mouth itch-- and too boring and so not worth the calories. (I might have even said, on occasion, that I didn't really like cake.) But bundt cakes, on the other hand, are usually not cloyingly sweet. So the mention of the bundt pan set off this light bulb, "Hey, I like bundt cakes. They're not too sweet. And they're kind of retro. I should get a bundt pan." What made this idea especially perfect, is that I had some graduation money from the aforementioned aunt and uncle and I had been waiting for the right thing to spend it on, and a bundt pan would definitely fit that bill.

I had actually seen the bundt pan I wanted at the fancy kitchen store in town probably a year before I bought it. It caught my eye because it was so lovely. Initially, I couldn't rationalize buying an expensive bundt pan, since I'm not a big baker (this was before the aunt-uncle-bundt-pan-light-bulb moment.) Then, after I decided getting a bundt pan was a good idea, I wavered on getting the specific one that I wanted, because it's a ten-cup pan, and most recipes are for a twelve-cup pan. Eventually, I just said screw it, I'm getting the fancy bundt pan that I want and we'll see how the cakes work out.

So, two Novembers ago, graduation cash in hand, I went to the fancy kitchen store and bought the fancy bundt pan I had been coveting. (This is it, in case you are wondering. I had forgotten it's the Bavarian Bundt Pan, which is hilarious and fitting, since my heritage is predominately German.)

My first bundt cake was made for Thanksgiving, which we were celebrating with the Main Squeeze's family that year. (A funny aside, the Main Squeeze was not terribly pleased that I was bringing this bundt cake to Thanksgiving, because "Thanksgiving is pie's holiday," and this cake was clearly encroaching on pie's big day.) I wanted to show the Main Squeeze's aunt and uncle what I had used the graduation money for, so in spite of a certain person's protestations, I brought a bundt cake to Thanksgiving.

And thus began, what would turn out to be, the first Bundt Cake Season.

Fifth Review: The Best American Short Stories 2009 edited by Alice Sebold

I was first introduced to The Best American Short Stories series in the winter of 1999. My roommate at the time had gotten a copy of the 1998 BASS for Christmas and had left it out in the living room. So of course, I picked it up and started reading it. That one was edited by Garrison Keillor and I loved it. I have been asking for them for Christmas every year since then.

I have not loved all of them equally over the years, and it's hard to know if that's simply a fact of the types of stories which the series editor and the guest editor had to choose from in a given year, or if it's more of a reflection of the guest editor's taste. I've always assumed it is more of the latter. Which is why, for example, I was surprised that the edition that Amy Tan edited (1999) is not a favorite, because I love Amy Tan's writing. (In fact, now that I think about it, I'm not sure why her A Hundred Secret Senses isn't on my list of recommended books. Also, where the hell is my copy of that book?).

Two BASS that do stand out for me, are the aforementioned 1998, as well as, 2006 editions. Of course, my love of those particular editions could easily be due to issues completely unrelated to the stories included in those books. Obviously, 1998 was the first in the series that I read, and therefore, as my introduction, would have a special place in my heart. As for 2006, I started that one while on a Caribbean island (St. Kitts, to be exact) in the middle of January, after I had finally finished the most important incomplete from my grad program. I very, very clearly remember that experience of waking up before everyone else and sitting on the deck, in gloriously warm weather, enjoying a mind-bogglingly beautiful view, and reading that short story collection.

The short explanation of how these stories are collected is that the series editor, Heidi Pitlor, reads thousands of short stories that have been published in various magazines over the previous year and whittles them down to a more reasonable number (in this case, 120) for the guest editor--this year it was Alice Sebold--to read through and select the top 20. Clearly, subjectivity abounds--but that's one of the things that I like about this collection, and why I think the guest editor truly does put his or her stamp on the final collection. The guest editor is always an author. (I'll be honest, every year, when I crack open my latest copy, I always imagine how fun--and ridiculously challenging--the guest editor's job is. I secretly covet it.)

A short story collection, especially when it doesn't come from a single author, is hard to review as a whole. That being said, I enjoyed this year's collection and there were several stories that particularly stood out for me.

Steve De Jarnatt's story, Rubiaux Rising, about a drug-addicted Gulf War vet, trapped in the attic during the rising waters of Hurricane Katrina is beautifully powerful. Eleanor Henderson's The Farms is a quiet contemplation of race in modern-day America. Sagittarius by Greg Hrbek is one of those stories you just have to go with, as it pulls a bit of what would normally be found in a fantasy novel into an everyday situation. Jill McCorkle's Magic Words is the sort of story that I contemplate not finishing, because of that pit of dread in my stomach, but I have to see it to the end, because I need to know how it all turns out. Modulation by Richard Powers is about music and technology and earworms (of the musical, rather than Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, variety) and it's hard to describe beyond that. Alex Rose's Ostacon provides a bittersweet window into Alzheimer's, from the perspective of the sufferer. And The Peripatetic Coffin by Ethan Rutherford is about the Confederate submarine, the H. L. Hunley, used in the Civil War and it's third crew.

I really don't want to give much more information on the stories than that, because, well, they're short, and any more information will give too much away.

As I said, these were the ones that stood out for me, though all the stories in the collection are strong (even the ones that weren't really my cup of tea.) I definitely recommend the collection. If you aren't in the habit of reading short stories, this is a great place to start.

One of the things that I appreciate about a short story is how much can be conveyed in such a minimum number of pages. I deeply love novels; however, a short story, when done well, is a simple thing of beauty. I enjoy knowing that at least once a year, I will immerse myself in a collection of well-written short stories.

A short story collection, especially one like this with a variety of authors, is kind of like a mix tape. You move from one story to the next, not knowing what to expect, finding yourself going from one very different topic to another, occasionally finding two stories that have some subject or theme in common, but mostly just going along for the ride and enjoying some excellent writing.

And there is nothing wrong with that.

Vegetarian Scrapple

If you are from the Mid-Atlantic region, you should be familiar with Scrapple. For the uninitiated, scapple is simply leftover pork bits combined with cornmeal and seasonings. It's formed into a block and then sliced and pan fried until crispy and brown on the outside. It's delicious. But for those who did not grow up eating it, I guess it can be kind of scary. Personally, I think that if you eat sausage, you have no business being skeeved out by scrapple.

Anyway, I'm originally from Maryland and grew up eating and loving scrapple. The thing is, I became a vegetarian* about 20 years ago, so no more scrapple for me. I became a vegetarian, because I could no longer rationalize eating animals (I'm a huge sap), not because I didn't think they were tasty. So, I'm one of those vegs who is happy to try out fake meat products. I love Morning Star Farm's veggie links, patties and bacon. They are a key part of my weekend breakfasts.

I will also be the first one to tell you that it helps to have distance from the real deal to appreciate the fake versions. If you can clearly remember what bacon tasted like, then the fake stuff is so not going to cut it. (That being said, fake sausages can fly for meat eaters, because it's often about the seasonings, rather than the actual meat ingredients).

Anyway, a few years ago, the Main Squeeze got me a cookbook, Ethnic Vegetarian, for Christmas. The focus of the book is recipes (traditional and modern) from Africa, America, and the Caribbean. It's divided up into sections: African recipes, Caribbean recipes, African-American recipes, and Southern recipes. As soon as I saw the recipe for vegetarian scrapple, I was intrigued and have been meaning to make it ever since. The thing is, it's one of those recipes which you have to make a day in advance, and well, for me, that's often too much planning.

Finally, this past weekend, I decided to go for it. On Sunday, I bought the ingredients we didn't already have and then whipped it up. As I mentioned, it's been awhile since I've had scrapple, so the ingredient list did not raise any red flags--especially because you never know how separate ingredients may come together to form an entirely different whole. The ingredients for the veggie scrapple (as best as I can remember them) are: onion, garlic, celery, bell pepper, black-eyed peas, corn meal, oatmeal, salt, pepper, cayenne, onion powder and vegetable stock.

Some things that should have tipped me off that this recipe was not really going to resemble the original in flavor: A) bell pepper, B) cayenne pepper, C) the fact that she recommends it as part of supper (um, scrapple is definitely a breakfast/brunch kind of food), and D) the fact that this recipe was in her Southern food section. Scrapple is not a southern food. It may be found there--I don't know, I haven't spent much time in the South--but it originated in Pennsylvania and it was created by German immigrants there. (There is debate over whether it started with Pennsylvania Dutch (Amish) or just regular German immigrants.)

The veggies and spices are sauteed until the vegetables are soft, then the beans & spices are added and cooked for five minutes, and then the other ingredients are added Finally, everything is poured into a buttered loaf pan. The scrapple is baked for 45 minutes--which gives the corn meal and oatmeal a chance to absorb the broth. You refrigerate it for four hours or overnight (I did overnight) and then slice it and pan fry it.

I'm not sure if it's because I used steel-cut, Irish style oats (rather than the traditional rolled kind)--I doubt it--but the cornmeal/oatmeal portion settled on the bottom, while the veggies were mostly on the top. The cornmeal part did have the right consistency, but the flavor was totally off. This scrapple was far too savory--the cayenne and red peppers were all wrong. I could see how the celery might blend in a different context, and if you don't have meat, then onion and garlic could be important for flavor. But yeah, this combination was never going to have that special scrapple flavor.

All in all, I'd have to rate this as a disappointment. The "scrapple" was tasty, as long as you weren't actually expecting it to taste anything like scrapple!

I may or may not try out other veggie scrapple recipes, but I am very interested to try Vrapple a vegetarian version that won second place at ScrappleFest 2009. I may just overlook the fact that it costs $10. A girl's gotta get her scrapple fix somehow.

*And by vegetarian, I mean that I sometimes eat seafood. Don't you judge me!