Mothers and Sons

I don't really have anything profound to say about these works that have caught my eye lately, other than to note that they've caught my eye.  

For all my romantic notions about everything else that urges me to rush in to it like the proverbial fool, the harsh light of reality glints off of parenting.  And these two items have stuck with me for a few weeks now.  I don't know why, haven't really examined it.  Well, that's not true.  I just haven't processed these completely, is all.

Iron & Wine, Upward Over the Mountain

Read

Billy Collins, The Lanyard

Listen

Gone Bananas

I've had quite the taste for banana bread lately - some is in the oven now! I've yet to try a bread that beats my mother's recipe (which goes back at least another generation). Rich banana flavor, deep brown crust, freezes well. And it's very easy to make uninspiring banana bread unless you know the rules:

Good things come to those who wait. If your bananas aren't at least a week old, don't turn on the oven. Seriously - they need to be *black*. Overripe bananas make all the difference in flavor. Personally, I don't like fresh bananas if they're much past the green-tinged stage, so once they turn completely yellow, I just hang on to them and let them get all rotten for killer banana bread.

Good things again come to those who wait. Wait until the next day to eat the final product. Even with a great loaf, waiting a day for flavors to meld keeps the bread from being one-dimensional. This is a particularly handy trait - I often make miniature loaves and freeze them. They usually taste better than fresh loaves.

Don't underestimate the importance of salt. Salt in sweet baked goods brightens the flavors and again ensures multidimensional flavor instead of one-note tropical sweetness. My mother always used (salted) margarine. I use unsalted butter and beef up the pinch of salt. Some salted butter or margarine on top of a slice is a nice salty-sweet counterpoint.

Don't forget about sour, either. Sour milk is specific to my mom's recipe; it doesn't show up in most others. I haven't conducted an experiment yet in which I evaluate the flavor of a batch made with sour milk and one without - but I have to think it contributes to the flavor. It probably keeps the bread from drying out. And it allows the use of baking soda instead of baking powder, and I can usually tell when a recipe requires too much baking powder.

Anyhow, give this a try. And if you're feeling kicky, toss in some toasted coconut before baking.

Mom's Banana Bread

1 1/2 c. sugar

1/2 c. unsalted butter, softened

2 eggs, beaten

4 T. sour milk*

1 t. baking soda

2 c. flour

1 c. mashed banana (2 bananas) - must be exceedingly ripe

1 t. vanilla

1/4 t. salt

Combine butter and sugar, then mix in eggs, milk, and vanilla. Add bananas, soda, flour, and salt. Pour into greased loaf pan(s) and bake at 350 degF until dark golden on top and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

* Add a splash of vinegar to 4T. milk. Stir, and set aside for 10 min to thicken.

Listening

My playlist for cleaning the kitchen and pantry, repotting my kitchen basil, and baking a tres leches cake.  

How Will He Find Me, The Weepies

Cacophony, Tilly & The Wall

Shimmer, Fuel

Our God Reigns, Brandon Heath

Where I Began, Caedmon's Call

Hope to Carry On, Caedmon's Call

The Man Who Sold the World (MTV Unplugged), Nirvana

All I Want Is You, U2

Englishman in New York, Sting

All This Time, Sting

Sister, The Nixons

A Girl Like You, Edwyn Collins

The Love That You Had, Tracy Chapman

Innocent Bones, Iron & Wine

Old Friends (Concert in Central Park), Simon & Garfunkel

Under the Milky Way, The Church

Not An Addict, K's Choice

Wolves at Night, Manchester Orchestra

Grounds for Divorce, Wolf Parade

Bathtub Families

This week, I attended a poetry reading by Poet Laureate Billy Collins.  

He easily would have been one of my favorite professors in college.  I had been introduced to his work by a friend a couple years ago, but I was only familiar with a few of his poems - most notably The History Teacher.  What a delightful evening!  I know this is obvious, but it's one thing to read a poem on a page, and very much another thing to hear the author's inflection as he intended... they are more immediate, more accessible.  And some of his poems are hysterical.  There was one, in particular, that I now have a pretty big crush on. 

Bathtub Families

is not just a phrase I made up

though it would have given me pleasure

to have written those words in a notebook

then looked up at the sky wondering what they meant.

No, I saw Bathtub Families in a pharmacy

on the label of a clear plastic package

containing one cow and four calves,

a little family of animals meant to float in your tub.

I hesitated to buy it because I knew

I would then want the entire series of Bathtub Families,

which would leave no room in the tub

for the turtles, the pigs, the seals, the giraffes, and me.

It's enough just to have the words,

which alone make me even more grateful

that I was born in America

and English is my mother tongue.

I was lucky, too, that I waited

for the pharmacist to fill my prescription,

otherwise I might not have wandered

down the aisle with the Bathtub Families.

I think what I am really saying is that language 

is better than reality, so it doesn't have

to be bath time for you to enjoy

all the Bathtub Families as they float in the air around your head.

from Ballistics (2008)

I have a reputation for recording and collecting clever turns of phrase (or at least instructing someone else to write it down!).  So while a friend thought we were being called out on our behavior, I took the justification path - "no, look, Billy Collins's persona does it too!"  The difference is that I would have bought the Bathtub Family to keep around my house.  Much like I did the Bag of Plagues at Publix one passover season.  Maybe it would have been sufficient to keep the Bag of Plagues in the air around my head.

And I can't walk down the halls of our school anymore without giggling at spurious acclamations of praise.

Oh, My God!

Not only in church

and nightly by their bedsides

do young girls pray these days.

Wherever they go,

prayer is woven into their talk

like a bright thread of awe.

Even at the pedestrian mall

outburst of praise

spring unbidden from their glossy lips.

from Ballistics (2008)

Other highlights (links when I can find 'em):

Serenade

How Poets Read Prose (published as Searching)

Dharma

Tension

Forgetfulness

Sunset

Tonight's sunset was beyond stunning! Like, stop-everything-leave-the-food-cooking-on-the-stove-and-go-outside-and-gawk beautiful.

First Day

Today was my 24th First Day of School. Granted, most of those were as a student! Nevertheless, it's time for a new start, time for another cycle of catch-and-release.

I was reminded of my first day as a teacher of teenagers. It was a significant career change, so I had a lot to prepare. I spent so much time and energy preparing for that first first day: syllabi, lesson plans, my classroom arrangement, seating charts, policies and procedures for everything. I wrote, printed, and copied everything for the day, did some demos, and gave my introductions; that night, I pulled off my suit, and fell - exhausted - into bed when it dawned on me: how was I ever going to do this 179 more times?! What had I gotten myself into? I wonder whether this is what new parents feel - nine months spent preparing for the arrival of a child and panic sets in when you take her home and realize your job has only begun. Anyhow, I made it through that day, that week, that year. And several more first days since.

I'm reasonably pleased with my schedule and very happy with some changes to the department and my courseload. I hope this auspicious First Day gives way to a Good Year.

Old Friends/Bookends

Paul Simon

Old friends

Old friends

Sat on their park bench

Like bookends

A newspaper blown through the grass

Falls on the round toes

Of the high shoes

Of the old friends

Old friends

Winter companions

The old men

Lost in their overcoats

Waiting for the sun

The sounds of the city

Sifting through trees

Settles like dust

On the shoulders

Of the old friends

Can you imagine us years from today

Sharing a park bench quietly?

How terribly strange to be seventy

Old friends

Memory brushes the same years

Silently sharing the same fears...

Time it was, and what a time it was, it was

A time of innocence, a time of confidences

Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph

Preserve your memories; they're all that's left you

Europe Tour-o-Matic II

Excerpts from the Travel Journal

Monday, 23 June 2008
Paris, France

We arrived in Paris yesterday, but I wasn't fully aware ofthe differences between Paris and the Italian cities we visited [Florence and Rome] until today. The light is completely different - the sunshine that buttered Italy in gold has given way to a crisper light, one that renders Paris in more of a greyscale. It's not gloomy, but the light - like the air - is cooler.

After last night's dinner, a group of us took the tunnel under the Place de l'Etoile to the Arc de Triomphe. It was that part of the early evening where the sun is low and accentuates any haze or particles in the air to give photographs a romantic blur. I was hoping to convince them to go up to the top of the Arc; the last time I was in Paris (November 2001) , I took this gorgeous photograph of the city from the top. Usually I'm not much for aerial shots, but from that relatively low height, you see a lot more detail in the rooflines and there's a lovely shot of the city that includes the Eiffel Tower. And the light was perfect for it. Alas, they didn't want to.

As if to make up for that missed opportunity, later in the evening, a few girls from the group asked me if I would take them into the city the next morning (today) at the crack of dawn so they could get good pictures of the Eiffel Tower. Well, after a country's worth of pictures in harsh midday sun, I was more than happy to agree to their offer, which I negotiated for a free Metro ticket and a bottle of wine [which still has not been delivered!]. We took off from our hotel at 600a and got to the Tower in dramatic sidelighting, with virtually nobody (save for some workers clearing leaves) in the Trocadero plaza opposite the Tower. We made some beautiful photographs, walked up the Champ du Mars, and caught the Metro back. Well, not before stopping at McDonalds for breakfast. The girls were so cute - even excited about the orange juice - and celebrated their first hot breakfast in a week that wasn't crusty bread.

I took our dear student to the Embassy this morning. We rode with the group to the same Metro stop, then they entered the Tuileries on their way to the Louvre, and we crossed the street to find the embassy. Even though I was missing the Louvre, I was happy to volunteer because I, quite honestly, really wanted to see an embassy, and anymore, it seems like you have to have a really good reason to go in one. The location on our maps didn't seem right - and I could tell we weren't in the right place because of the conspicuous lack of heavy security. Even the US embassy in Oslo had barriers that required you to cross the street - ours and Israel's. The sign on the door said that consular services had moved down the street, across the Place de la Concorde. So we walked in that direction, where the presence of armed guards and security fencing confirmed our bearings. I wish the students had had a chance to see this, to see the buffer zone our embassy requires. Maybe it's security theatre, but it just seems unfortunate no matter how you look at it. Anyhow, we got a replacement passport in under 3h and were able to rejoin the group at the Eiffel Tower in the afternoon.

[Public service message to readers who intend to lose their passport in a foreign country: a copy of your passport is invaluable, as is a copy of your passport application or birth certificate, if you have it. Unless you remember your parents' birthdates and locations (which our student did not), in which case you're probably fine without it. A police report of your lost/stolen passport may be required; the Parisian embassy did not ask for it, others do.]

Highway Thoughts

At a recent appointment, my doctor gave me a brochure describing how their pap tests now screen for HPV (previously known by the less-than-savory name "genital warts" and is now recognized as a cause of cervical cancer) and why we women over 30 aren't being vaccinated against it. Pulling out of the parking lot, I was stopped at a traffic light, so I grabbed the brochure and opened it.

My eyes fell on this:

How does a person get HPV?

HPV is a very common virus. It's estimated that 8 out of every 10 people get HPV at some point in their lives. However, many will never know they have had it, since most women fight off the virus before it causes any problem.

"What??" I incredulously ask the paper, but again it tells me the same thing. Eight of every ten. 80%.

Now, I know that statistics can be twisted into illustrating anything, but even if that's half-true, that's horrifying. And that's just one disease.

As is customary, I chewed on this the whole fifty-minute drive home.

As my life goes on, the more I realize the freedom afforded by God (and living according to His ways and not of the world) is not as much freedom to, it's more freedom from. Freedom from worry. Freedom from shame. Freedom from heartbreak. These are not insignificant freedoms. And I'm not perfect, so I understand this kind of captivity. But I also get that we are granted an even greater freedom - freedom from our pasts.


80%.

Miscellany

I've had a fantastic mail week! A birthday gift, notes and letters from a few far-flung friends, a couple postcards from a friend who's touring the country and knows I love postcards. Hooray! :) I can't even describe the joy I get in my driveway as I leaf through mail and spot a hand-addressed envelope with my name on it. I think I will spend tomorrow morning making some cards and doing some writing - something for which I have loads of supplies but never the time.

My great mail week was punctuated today by an unfortunate kitchen incident. I was carrying a stack of dishes - 2 bowls, a plate, 3 glasses - over to the dishwasher. I thought I had everything secure, but then something shifted, and CRASH! I lost everything but the plate to the unforgiving tile floor. I try really hard not to get hung up on stuff and things, but I really love my kitchen items - particularly little bowls - and of the casualties, I lost one of my favorite bowls, one of my oldest bowls, and one of my oldest-and-favorite glasses. I will admit I tend to attribute a lot of memory and meaning to my things. I could tell you where I was when I got them or who gave them to me, triggering a whole flurry of memories just by going to the cupboard. And as is human nature, I think I grieve the loss of intangibles more than the loss of the tangibles. Which is silly - it isn't like I won't ever think of these people or places again. And then there is the shock of a particularly catastrophic event - five objects in a fraction of a second. I've swept three times, vacuumed once, and mopped twice, and I'm still picking shards of glass and ceramic out of the soles of my shoes.

Dumpster outside ceramic studio, Assisi, Italy. June 2008.

Cakery Chronicles 2008

[Updated with pictures: 21 July 2008]

Since I have my laptop in the kitchen, I'm tempted to liveblog my cake-making today. I'll do it as long as I'm running on schedule. :) Delivery is set for 500p, with a 50-min drive.

Pre-Blog: Most of cake baked. Top tier (6" pecan spice), second tier (9" pecan spice), third tier (12" toasted coconut), and one layer of bottom tier (16" vanilla bean - but without the bean...) are already baked and wrapped and ready to go. I even have a couple 4" pecan spice layers that I may make into a special bride-and-groom cake for them to share. I had leftover batter, but the bride and groom never get any cake that they don't feed each other after cutting, so this seems like a good use of my little layers.

1017a: Oven preheating. About to make second layer of vanilla bean cake. I'm going all Rachael Ray with a garbage bowl. Someone stop me. [WTF - they sell these? Use a mixing bowl, people!]

1020a: Almost forgot to take out butter to soften!

1022a: Playlist choice for today is High School Favorites. REM, 10,000 Maniacs, Milla Jovovich, Don Henley, Tracy Chapman, Gin Blossoms. Decided yesterday (with ridicule from a certain music snob) that Third Eye Blind is good kitchenwork music. But that's on my College Favorites playlist.

1034a: ...Leonard Bernstein!... Ha ha ha.

1113a: Six minutes to go on the cake in the oven. Apricot filling ready to go between some layers. Took the picture of my pans above.

1125a: Vanilla layer out of oven. Very soon I am going to have to make a decision whether to bake another. They're baking deeper than I expected, but they're still a bit shallower than the others. Well, if some is good, more is better... This means I need more eggs. :-\

1151a: All (except the hot one out of the oven) layers are leveled. Coconut tier filled and squared off, same with top anniversary tier and the bonus tiny tier. I'm really pleased with the vanilla bean-less cake - it's a new recipe. Tight, dense crumb that trims easily, tastes like pound cake. The coconut tier is messy - very crumby and just sort of dissolved when I carved out a well for filling. I'd better go get some eggs.

1239p: Back from my egg run. Oven re-heating.

118p: Third bottom vanilla layer in the oven - 26 min to go. Quick kitchen cleanup, then I'm going to start buttercreams and level the now-cool vanilla layer.

135p: No matter how innocuous it is, "beating butter" for buttercream just sounds dirty. "whipping butter" isn't much better. Tee hee. Maple buttercream about to fill pecan spice cake. Just need to hollow out a well for it.

Maple Buttercream

150p: Last cake is out of the oven. Pecan spice cake filled and edges trimmed. Time to coat all but largest tier with crumb layer of buttercream to prepare it for fondant.

202p: Water simmering in double boiler to melt chocolate for espresso ganache. Brewing espresso.

243p: Ganache is filling the vanilla layers. Just waiting for the third vanilla layer to cool so I can trim it and put it on top. About to crumb coat the other tiers.

252p: Sky over the airport is getting very dark, and I'm starting to hear thunder. Should also hear some aborted landings, if it's typical operations. [254p: Yep, there's one, as if on cue. Spirit, I think?]

331p: All layers crumbcoated. Rolling out fondant means I have to move my computer so I have enough room. I severely overestimated my powdered sugar needs. And forgot I had a big ol' bag in my pantry. So now I have three unopened seven-pound bags of confectioner's sugar in my pantry. Yipes!

427p: Fondant on all but one layer. My layer supports are too tall for them, so I'm going to have to improvise. Running a little behind schedule, but still on target.

455p: Okay, everything that's supposed to be covered in fondant is covered in fondant. Plus some other things. Like the chef. Okay, off to put on some clean clothes, real shoes, and then these go in the car.

458p: Whoops. Never mind. I should make a small batch of royal icing before I go.

525p: Fortuitous discovery of dowels in the house! Engaging in an activity with a saw that is highly likely to end in serious injury.

817p: Cake is delivered and assembled, but no photos yet because the tiers need ribbons, which I had to pick up on the way home. I'll add those before the reception tomorrow!

Done!

Lilies

Speaking of a macro lens, these weren't taken with one. But they approach the effect more than any photos I've taken (at least recently).

Raspberries

Hello, my name is Jennifer, and I have a problem.

I definitely need a macro lens.

Cherries

Apparently, I'm starting a new series. I haven't forgotten my plans to write about my trip, honest. Summer produce is just so darn photogenic.

Cabbage

A food-porn shot of a cabbage I brought home for my last batch of tortellini soup. (link SFW!)

Water droplets were natural - present when I pulled off the outer leaves.

Pasta Party

This fete was a long time in the planning. My grandmother gave me her pasta maker years ago, and I've never put it to use. I can say with confidence that it will not fall into disuse from now on. It was so much fun to make fresh pasta! We threw quite the soiree to celebrate its debut, with nearly the same cast of characters from our July 4th party.

We made regular semolina fettuccine (which our chef friend tossed together with Alfredo sauce), some chocolate fettuccine for dessert (to be served with a raspberry sauce and white chocolate shavings) - which we actually didn't end up serving, and a trio of ravioli. So we wouldn't confuse fillings, we tinted the dough - and if you're going to tint, go big or go home - turquoise (chicken curry with coconut and peanut), orange (potato, bacon, and cheddar), and hot pink (shrimp scampi). Not your average ravioli fillings.

Since Hazel and I needed to get our bake on, we made a Kentucky Derby pie (pecan pie with bourbon and chocolate), baklava (I let it cool too much before pouring the honey syrup over it, and I don't think I baked it nearly long enough - I was off my game), and bean pie (not for amateurs). I've seen loads of retro recipes for war-shortages-beget-creativity mock pies lately - No-Apples-Were-Harmed-During-the-Making-of-This-Pie pie using Ritz crackers (actually not awful - kind of fun for my AP students during our organic chapter), mock-pecan pie using beans, etc etc. So when Hazel pulled out her recipe file and showed me a 1979 recipe for "Bean Pie" - I was in! We went to the grocery store for the requisite navy beans (also lemon extract and evaporated milk), came home, unfolded the recipe, and read "makes three pies". Hm. Well, if some is good, more is better, I always say. So we (actually, we made Nunzio do it) made up three bean pies! The texture is much more like pumpkin pie. But blonder. And ... interesting. Nevertheless, I still want to try this.

European Tour-O-Matic I

Top Fives, European Edition

1. Abundance of sparkling water (frizzante!)
2. Paying for pizza by the 100-g increment
3. Reliable and useful public transportation
4. Affordable and well-crafted espresso drinks that don't come in gallon-capacity takeaway cups
5. Masterpieces as public art

Honorable mention: the chocolate




Bonus Joke!

What do you call a dehydrated Frenchman?

Pierre.

Summer Cooking

It's summer, and I'm in some kind of cooking frenzy.

I don't understand why I wait until vacation(s) to use the bread machine, it seems the perfect thing to use during the school year. Anyhow, made a hearty hazelnut loaf which was perhaps a trifle too nutty, and I think I'd have enjoyed it better if I'd toasted the nuts first. I'm on the hunt for a good sunflower-seed bread recipe, and a cinnamon-raisin loaf, too. Anyhow, today's loaf is fantastic - it tastes great and the bonus: it made use of several ingredients that had been withering in my pantry - leftover granola cereal from a houseguest, some banana chips, and the end of a small bottle of honey.

Banana Granola Bread
from the book that came with my machine

1 c. water (80 degF)
2 T. milk
2 1/2 T. honey
2 1/2 T. oil
3/4 t. banana extract
1 1/2 t. salt
3 c. bread flour
3/4 c. granola cereal
2 3/4 t. rapid-rise yeast

1/2 - 3/4 c. banana chips, crushed

Add the ingredients to the pan in the order shown, except add the banana chips to the extras dispenser, if your model allows. Bake for a 1.5-lb loaf, medium crust, rapid yeast white bread cycle. If using regular yeast, decrease amount to 2 t. and use regular white cycle.

I went to the grocery store this morning and bought 3-4 days worth of food - lots of vegetables and fruit, some whole chickens, some milk to make yogurt with a yogurt-maker I got for my birthday. Fixings for quiche, potato-cauliflower szabzi, a bacon-basted roast chicken in the oven right now (the leftovers of which will go into chicken-bean enchiladas tomorrow). Hooray!

Bonus Recipe du Jour

Made this last night, and it turned out beautifully.


Greek-Style Pork Tenderloin

1/2 c. lemon juice
1/4 c. olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
3/4 T. salt
2 T. dried oregano

Mix all ingredients in a large plastic bag, add a 1-lb pork tenderloin to the marinade and let sit for about an hour. Grill over medium heat for about 15-20 minutes, until internal temperature is about 155 degF. Put on a plate and tent with foil, let sit until temperature increases to 160 degF.

Birthday Week!

First, to the kind and gentle reader who sent me two memory cards, the package arrived with no note - so please take this public acknowledgment of the gift until I can thank my anonymous benefactor personally.


Second, good gravy, it's been a while since I posted. But, I'm finally finished with school. No, that's so not true. I don't have to go back to school. No wait, that's not totally true, either. The school year is officially over! I still have exams to finish grading, and it escapes me why I'm not doing that and writing here instead... but anyhow, it is indeed summer. My summer to-do list is so long, I have to get cracking.

Third, I'm still recovering from birthday week. The week was capped off in a fete at the home of friends, friends good enough to (a) throw a low-food party in my honor - see also this, this and this , (b) serve meat1 in their vegetarian kitchen, and (c) eschew our typical highbrow wine for jug sangria. Kids, can we make a pact never to drink such quantities of plonk again? I'm all for integrity of theme, and I suspect the aftermath had a lot to do with my sleep deficit from the school year, but in the last 36 hours, I spent 22 of them asleep, and the better part of one trying to get back to sleep with a raging headache. We drink the J. Lohr next time with our Fritos and hummus! But, I have to say, it's fantastic to have friends willing to sacrifice good taste to make me a Poke Cake (with Cool Whip!) for my birthday. :)

1 the term "meat" used very loosely...