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.