Girl Detective

The year after my 40th birthday I was very smug. Life was largely good. 41, however, has not been so kind. Weight gain, blurring of up-close vision, aching knees and joints were among the harbingers of age. As is my wont, I threw a flurry of attention at diet books, got several from the library, then ignored them for weeks. Several I returned. But Katzen and Willett’s Eat, Drink, & Weigh Less I renewed and finally read.

Simply, this book is what most everyone should do about their diet and health. Eat better (not less or more) and move more, and your chances for things like heart disease, diabetes and other age-related maladies are reduced. Throughout, Willett lists the long-term studies that prove what we know already: eat better, exercise more, and we’ll be in better health. The book is structured around 9 pieces of common-sense advice, such as eat more veg and fruit (but fewer white potatoes), choose good fats like olive oil over bad ones like trans fats, choose whole grain rather than simple carbs, and stay hydrated.

Additionally, Katzen, the author most famously of The Moosewood Cookbook (from which I learned to cook), includes a wealth of simple recipes and food advice. I tried several of the recipes, like the vegetable broth with peas, the vinaigrette and the avocado butter; all were easy, healthful and tasty.

For those looking for a diet book, this contains a quiz, a 21-day plan, a portable plan for travel and non cooks and maintenance advice. For everyone, though, is the short, sweet warm-up plan and the advice to practice the advice until it becomes standard practice.

What this book lacks is an emphasis on fresh, seasonal, local foods. For that, though, there are other books like Mark Bittman’s Food Matters. What this book does is make common sense health improvement easy to understand and easy to implement. Whether you’re looking to lose weight, or suffering from the lurking knowledge that your diet and exercise are not what they could be, this is a smart, helpful book to have on the shelf. Worth owning.

Adventureland glanced off me like water off a duck’s back. I didn’t get the appeal at all, though it received mostly good reviews when it was in theaters. Jesse Eisenberg plays the Michael Cera role–a smart geek inept with women. His post-college trip to Europe is canceled, and the only job he can get is at a local theme park. The year is 1987, and while some references were spot on (mostly the music) others were not quite right. Kristen Stewart and Ryan Reynolds look as if they were dropped in from a modern movie, Eisenberg is so vague in appearance he could have been, so the other characters often looked as if they were in 80’s drag rather than in character.

The plot feels like that of every teen movie, ever, except that it’s characters are supposedly post-college, which never felt quite right to me. Their emotional and communication skills seemed more suited to high school. And that’s kind of an insult to high schoolers. Eisenberg is a geek who likes the cool girl, Stewart, who has the emotional acting range of a turnip. Her idea of emoting is fiddling with her hair, which IMDB says she does 55 times in the film. Stewart is fooling around with the cool guy, Reynolds, but develops feelings for the geek, and things don’t quite come together. SNL’s Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig have a few good moments in supporting roles–one with a bat, the other with stuffed bananas. The plot is not dissimiliar to that of Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist, which I liked at the time but seems cut from a similar cloth–trying to go for the charm of a John Hughes 80’s romance, and not being sincere enough to pull it off.

My husband G. Grod was similarly unimpressed with it, but two friends, The Big Brain and his henchman C, said they loved it. BB even said it was one of his favorite movies from last year. He wondered if perhaps when I am older and no longer caring for small children, and my heart has softened from its current stone-like state, if I might view it more favorably. I doubt it. I’d rather re-watch a John Hughes movie.

No, not the Adam Sandler remake. You know me better than that, right? The original, Mr. Deeds Goes to Town, is one of those famous old movies that I’d never yet seen, so when Take-Up Productions had a Capra series, I made sure to address that gap in my movie experience. This is an utterly charming, funny movie, and a great example of Capra’s style.

Gary Cooper is Mr. Deeds, a small-town greeting-card writer who inherits millions when a distant relative dies suddenly. He’s a kindly eccentric, and tries to keep his head about him when he’s whisked off to NYC. There he meets Jean Arthur as Babe Bennett, a reporter who poses as an everyday small-town girl.

Louise “Babe” Bennett: That guy is either the dumbest, stupidest, most imbecilic idiot in the world, or else he’s the grandest thing alive. I can’t make him out.

They develop feelings for each other, but just as things might go well, he is sued for insanity in an attempt to seize his money. The suit is based on Arthur’s articles on him, and he finds out her real identity.

Will the bad guys steal his money? Will he be institutionalized? Will he forgive Arthur? Though the outcomes are predictable, the tension is real, and the enjoyment is palpable. This is truly a feel-good movie, though it easily could have been something else. Capra was to have made another movie, Cooper wasn’t available for months, the original female lead backed out, the studio head was against Arthur, yet it all came together. It has a further claim to fame. According to imdb:

This movie marks the entry of the verb doodle (in the sense of absent-minded scribbling) into the English language. The word was coined for the movie by screenwriter Robert Riskin.

Jane Gardam’s books were recommended to me over a decade ago by my dear friend Thalia. I was reminded of this recently when The Man with the Wooden Hat, Gardam’s latest, was reviewed at NPR. Since it is a bookend to a previous novel, Old Filth, I sought that out first, and am quite glad I did.

Filth is an acronym, supposed coined by the main character of the book, Edward Feathers:

His colleagues at the Bar called him Filth, but not out of irony. It was because he was considered to be the source of the old joke, Failed In London Try Hong Kong. It was said that he had fled the London Bar, very young, very poor, on a sudden whim just after the War, and had done magnificently well in Hong Kong from the start. Being a modest man, they said, he had called himself a parvenu, a fraud, a carefree spirit.

Filth in fact was no great maker of jokes, was not at all modest about his work and seldom, except in great extremity, went in for whims. He was loved, however, admired, laughed at kindly and still much discussed many years after retirement. (17)

Filth is indeed easy to love, all the more so as his life story unfolds in fits and starts. It swoops in time and perspective so wildly that in the hands of a less-skilled author, the book would be dizzying instead of dazzling. Filth was one of many “Raj orphans.” Like Rudyard Kipling, these were children of English parents sent East in the name of Empire. The children were often returned at four or five to foster families in England to avoid disease, if they hadn’t succumbed to it already.

From a tragic beginning, Filth’s supposedly golden life is deconstructed for the reader, though not to the people around him. He becomes a sympathetic, almost amazing figure, set largely against the backdrop of WWII. Several times in the book he’s urged to write his memoirs, something he struggles with and finally gives up on. Readers of fiction are well rewarded that Gardam created his fictional one. I look forward to reading more about him in Gardam’s story collecion The People of Privilege Hill and the sequel, his wife Betty’s story, in The Man with the Wooden Hat.

The December selection for the Twin Cities’ Books and Bars reading group is Hannah Tinti’s impressive debut novel, The Good Thief. It had been on my radar since Jennifer Reese, former senior books editor at Entertainment Weekly, reviewed it in 2008

It’s a thumping good read, one I finished in fewer than 24 hours. Tinti gives a New England twist to Dickensian themes of orphans, thieves and poverty. Young Ren was abandoned as a baby at an abbey, with two clues to his identity: a nightshirt with the letters “REN” sewn into the collar, and a missing hand. Years later, a handsome, silver-tongued stranger appears, claiming to be Ren’s brother. Adoption is the highest hope of the orphan boys, whose only other fate is to be conscripted into the army when they come of age. Whether Ren’s being claimed is what he’d hoped for, soon turns out to be much more complicated.

After [that] Ren couldn’t think anymore. Instead he felt the air on his damp skin, the smell of fish in his clothes. The lamppost disappeared behind them, and the boy realized that he was sharing a seat with a murderer. There would be no more bargaining with God. He was into hell now for sure. (177)

Villains, grave robbers, illicit surgery, and overall skulduggery abound as Ren encounters an embittered former teacher, a dead man, a kind but deaf housewife, and a sarcastic dwarf. It is a skillful and entertaining adventure novel with suspense and mystery to spare. Good stuff.

I can’t figure out why last year’s Pulitzer winner for fiction, Olive Kitteridge, wasn’t a contender earlier this year in the Morning News Tournament of Books. I read seven of those sixteen books, including the winner, A Mercy, and the runner up, City of Refuge, and this easily bested them both.

Olive Kitteridge is a good book, well written. Its reach is impressive, yet its grasp is perfectly firm. This is a series of related short stories, all of which refer, overtly or no, to the character Olive Kitteridge. Olive is one of the most arresting and memorable literary figures I’ve “met” recently, but she is surrounded by a dazzling panoply of others. Strout is masterful with characterization, and does much with little in each story. We see Olive most often through the eyes of others–her husband, neighbors, and son.

Olive…knows that loneliness can kill people–in different ways can actually make you die. Olive’s private view is that life depends on what she thinks of as “big bursts” and “little bursts.” Big bursts are things like marriage or children, intimacies that keep you afloat, but these big bursts hold dangerous, unseen currents. Which is why you need the little bursts as well: a friendly clerk at Bradlee’s, let’s say, or the waitress at Dunkin’ Donuts who knows how you like your coffee. Tricky business, really.

Yet we also see them through her eyes, and its a dizzying feat of perspective, pulled off so well I didn’t think to wonder how Strout managed to create umpteen authentic voices.

The stories progress in linear time, though with flashes to the past. Each can stand on its own, yet together they form a complex whole. Olive is a woman of strong opinions, and she often irritates those around her, including the reader. Yet I found her by the end irresistible. Olive’s honesty, her pain, and any hard-earned joy she’d won were a pleasure for me to read about.

We traveled around the holiday this year, something I usually avoid. But the flight east was easy, then we met family for lunch before driving south in time for a real barbecue supper. The boys played well together, and were affectionate with family, especially their great-grandmother, recovering from hip surgery at 93. The feast came together, as did family we didn’t think we’d see because of a timely improvement for an unexpected illness. The weather was good, beautiful for our drive back to the airport. We met more family again for lunch, arrived early to our gate, and 30 minutes early home to Minnesota. I read four books in five days (Odd and the Frost Giants, Olive Kitteridge, The Guernsey Literary and Potato-Peel Pie Society, and The Good Thief), all of which I enjoyed.

It was a family visit with countless logistics, yet it came together seamlessly with joyful reunions, and quiet time to read and relax. I often remark that family visits are not the same as vacations, but this one, this rare perfect one, actually was. I was and am thankful for it.

The Thanksgiving table:

Creamed spinach from Smitten Kitchen:

Savory Corn Pudding, from Cook’s Country:

Savory Corn Pudding, serves 8 to 10
1 tablespoon unsalted butter , softened, for greasing casserole dish
Table salt
6 cups frozen corn
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
6 large eggs , lightly beaten
1 1/2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese
1 tablespoon sugar
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
3 tablespoons chopped fresh basil

1. Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 350 degrees. Grease 2-quart casserole dish with butter. Bring large kettle of water to boil for water bath. Bring 2 quarts water to boil in large saucepan for corn.

2. Add 1 tablespoon salt and corn to boiling water and cook for 1 minute. Drain in colander and dry with paper towels. Pulse 4 cups corn in food processor until rough puree forms, about ten 1-second pulses. Transfer to large bowl and stir in remaining whole corn, 1 teaspoon salt, cream, eggs, cheese, sugar, cayenne, and basil until combined.

3. Pour corn mixture into casserole and transfer dish to roasting pan. Pour boiling water from kettle into roasting pan until it comes halfway up sides of casserole dish. Place roasting pan in oven and bake until pudding is set and a few brown spots appear around edges, 40 to 45 minutes. Remove casserole from water bath, transfer to wire rack, and let set for 5 to 10 minutes before serving.

Make Ahead:

The corn can be cooked, processed, and mixed with the whole corn, salt, cream, cheese, sugar, and cayenne up to 2 days in advance. Refrigerate until ready to use, then stir in the eggs and basil when ready to cook.

Grandmother’s Famous Cranberry Bread, from childhood favorite of mine, and now the boys, Cranberry Thanksgiving by Wende and Harry Devlin

English Toffee Pecan Pie, recipe by Marjorie Johnson (The Minnesota Blue-Ribbon baking lady), and winner of Martha Stewart’s first pie contest.

G Grod and I watched The Princess Bride with 6yo Drake and 3yo Guppy. Once the man in black turned up and began to chase the kidnappers, George asked who he might be.

“I know.” said Guppy. “It’s the princess’ friend.” G and I exchanged a significant glance. Later, Guppy asked why there were two stories in the movie, (the grandfather and the princess.) And I was worried he wouldn’t like the movie.

At dinner, I reheated some frozen mac and cheese for the boys. Drake looked at it suspiciously. “Is this new, or leftover? I won’t eat leftover.”

“New,” I lied, knowing it was close enough, as I’d added extra butter.

“I’m not eating it,” Drake announced. “It’s not new.”

The down side to having a discriminating child.

This fall the Twin Cities was host to TWO major stagings of Othello, both with some of our best local actors. When I pulled our Arden 2nd series copy off the shelf, I was repulsed by the cover, and annoyed, as it portrayed Othello as a boy, which he’s not. The copy, which was used, was filled with someone else’s notes and underlining, so I hied myself off to the bookstore, in flagrant dereliction of my latest book vow (WHY do I make those?) and picked up a lovely new copy of the 3rd edition of Arden Shakespeare’s Othello, edited by E. A. J. Honigmann and published by Methuen. (My dear friend Thalia introduced me to the Arden editions in 1995, and I’ve been with them ever since, even as they’ve gone through multiple editions and publishers. I can barely understand who publishes it now.)

About the text of the play: Othello, a successful military man, marries Desdemona, a young gentlewoman of Venice. He is dark, (whether African or Middle Eastern is a point of scholarly contention) and she is fair. Iago, Othello’s ancient (or ensign), is upset because he’s been passed over for promotion, and seeks revenge, or at least that’s what he says to begin. He persuades Othello that Desdemona and the new lieutenant, Cassio, are having an affair. Othello sinks quickly into jealousy, and bad things happen. Then worse things happen. It is a tragedy, after all, one whose themes of racism, jealousy, loyalty, deception and murder continue to play out in the world’s headlines today.

Iago: O beware, my lord, of jealousy!
It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock
The meat it feeds on. (3.3.165-7)

About this edition: Honigmann’s editing is clear and helpful. Useful glosses are provided for difficult or archaic usage as well as helpful notes on understanding some of the repeated themes and phrases of the text. As with most introductions, I think it should be read after, not before, as it refers to minutely to the play that it is more helpful when the play details are fresh. I particularly like the section on the history of the play’s performance, and how actors have played the major roles.

Additionally, Honigmann lays out the evidence for some of the major questions about the play: was Iago in love with Othello, how does the play deal with the passage of time, what is the right tone for Iago, and most important to the editor: is Othello Shakespeare’s greatest tragedy? Honigmann says yes. While the text of Hamlet may excel in poetry and Lear in pathos, both are often criticized as too long in performance. In performance, Othello’s “extraordinary momentum and the audience response it generates place it, in these respects, ahead of its nearest rivals, Hamlet and King Lear.”

I saw both the recent Twin Cities’ productions, and hope to view the Lawrence Fishburne/Ken Branagh film soon. The Park Square Theater production (reviews from Twin Cities Daily Planet, Examiner, and Star Tribune) was very good and traditionally staged. But even though I sat in the second row, it had nowhere near the power of the intimate setting of the Ten Thousand Things production (reviews from TC Daily Planet, Star Tribune, and MinnPost), after which ending the room leapt to their feet in an outpouring of spontaneous admiration and applause. I was extremely fortunate (if financially poorer) for being able to see two professional productions in one week so I could compare and contrast them.

Among many points, I was interested to note that in both, Iago was portrayed as a villain for villainy’s sake, with little query or complexity given to his shifting reasons for destroying so many. One Desdemona went to her death meek, while the other fought fiercely. I continue to find I prefer the more simply staged, evocative performances to the traditionally staged ones. To my sensibilities, there is a creativity that shines on the smaller stage that highlights the play more than fancy backdrops and sound effects do.

I consumed a lot of books and food over Thanksgiving; Neil Gaiman’s Odd and the Frost Giants was the beginning of my book binge. It’s a sweet fable set in Norway of a crippled boy named Odd, who helps out a few Norse gods in distress. It’s a short tale, told briskly. Odd is a good foil for the strong-willed gods, and an easy hero to cheer for.

There was a boy called Odd, and there was nothing strange or unusual about that, not in that time or place. ‘Odd meant the tip of a blade, and it was a lucky name.

He was odd, though. At least the other villagers thought so. But if there was one thing that he wasn’t, it was lucky.

While $14.99 seems a steep pricetag for this slim volume, it is beautifully bound in blue cloth, and contains lovely pencil illustrations by Brett Helquist. Overall, this runs a big lighter than much of Gaiman’s work, and would be a great readaloud for children who can manage to listen when there aren’t pictures on every page, and for young readers to read on their own. Gaiman wrote it for World Book Day in the UK, an event that seeks to inspire children to read.

And for Sandman fans, I think the cover illo is an homage to one of Shawn McManus’ from “A Game of You” of Barbie riding atop Martin Tenbones. But I can’t find an online image to back that up.

I know I’m having a good holiday when I race through three books, and am set to embark on a fourth. One of these, The Guernsey Literary and Potato-Peel Pie Society begun by Mary Ann Shaffer and edited by her niece Annie Barrows, was recommended by my mother-in-law.

I’d heard of the book before, but hadn’t read a review, and was wary of it for two reasons. One, because I thought it had been on a worst-of-the-year list I’d read for last year. (I think I had it confused with The Lace Reader.) Two, the title sounded precious to me. But when my MIL said it was one of the best books she’d read recently, and after I perused the many blurbs of praise, most from reputable sources, I decided to dive in. Fewer than 24 hours later, I came up for air, well pleased.

TGLaPPPS is pleasantly reminiscent of Helene Hanff’s 84 Charing Cross Road, which was clearly an influence. It’s an epistolary novel, with author Juliet Ashton as its fulcrum. Juliet has recently had a collection of her WWII humor columns published. While she in on the exhausting book tour, she meets up with a handsome American suitor, Markham V. Reynolds, Jr. and receives an odd letter from a man who lives on the isle of Guernsey, which had been recently occupied by the Germans. Dawsey Adams writes Juliet that he’s come into a copy of a book she used to own, Selected Essays of Elia by Charles Lamb, and wonders if she can help him find more by its author.

So begins Juliet’s correspondence with the members of the eponymous literary society of the title.

I wonder how the book got to Guernsey? Perhaps there is some secret sort of homing instinct in books that brings them to their perfect readers. How delightful if that were true.

Her fascination with the islanders and with the history of the German occupation grows so she eventuallly goes to visit the island, in an attempt to find a new topic to write on.

The book borders on twee, sometimes precariously so, but manages, I thought, to stay on the side of emotional truth. There are things that are sweet and wonderful, but they are balanced by as many of cruelty and hardship. In the end, the authors have created a group of people I was happy to spend time with, and would be glad to be in conversation about books with. And the details of Guernsey’s occupation were a new window into many familiar facts of WWII.

In the end, this is a cheering, uplifting book, easy to read, but with enough emotional and historical heft to make it more than a mere confection.

As may become obvious in upcoming food posts, I’ve become enamored of powdered cardamom. It’s from a plant related to ginger with a strong, distinct taste. It’s historically been used in the middle East to flavor coffee, to spice Indian foods, and in Norwegian baked goods.

In the main course, I used a pre-mixed Garam Masala, which contains cardamom, along with a pre-mixed curry powder. Per the recipe, I toasted them prior to making this winter curry. The recipe says to toast until spices darken.

Here was me, watching the pan: Stir, still light, stir, stir, stir, still light, when’s it gonna turn, minutes gone by, OMG IT’S SMOKING!, walk pan around kitchen stirring furiously, hoping I haven’t burned it and that the smoke alarm wouldn’t go off. Later that night, my friend K8 gets in my car and says, “Yum. You smell like curry.” So did the house. For days.

Indian-Style Curry with Cauliflower, Peas and Chickpeas, from Cook’s Illustrated May 2007

Serves 4 to 6 as a main course.

This curry is moderately spicy when made with one chile. For more heat, use an additional half chile. For a mild curry, remove the chile’s ribs and seeds before mincing. Onions can be pulsed in a food processor. You can substitute 2 teaspoons ground coriander, 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper, 1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom, and 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon for the garam masala. Serve with Basmati Rice, passing yogurt and at least one type of chutney or relish at the table.

Ingredients

2 tablespoons curry powder (sweet or mild)
1 1/2 teaspoons garam masala (see note above)
1/4 cup vegetable oil
2 medium onions , chopped fine (about 2 cups)
12 ounces Red Bliss potatoes , scrubbed and cut into 1/2-inch pieces (about 2 cups)
3 medium cloves garlic , minced or pressed through a garlic press (about 1 tablespoon)
1 tablespoon finely grated fresh ginger
1-1 1/2 serrano chiles , ribs, seeds, and flesh minced (see note above)
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1/2 medium head cauliflower , trimmed, cored, and cut into 1-inch florets (about 4 cups)
1 can (14 1/2 ounces) diced tomatoes , pulsed in food processor until nearly smooth with 1/4-inch pieces visible
1 1/4 cups water
1 (15 ounce) can chickpeas , drained and rinsed
Table salt
8 ounces frozen peas (about 1 1/2 cups)
1/4 cup heavy cream or coconut milk

For Condiments: Plain whole-milk yogurt and chutney

1. Toast curry powder and garam masala in small skillet over medium-high heat, stirring constantly, until spices darken slightly and become fragrant, about 1 minute. Remove spices from skillet and set aside.

2. Heat 3 tablespoons oil in large Dutch oven over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add onions and potatoes and cook, stirring occasionally, until onions are caramelized and potatoes are golden brown on edges, about 10 minutes. (Reduce heat to medium if onions darken too quickly.)

3. Reduce heat to medium. Clear center of pan and add remaining tablespoon oil, garlic, ginger, chile, and tomato paste; cook, stirring constantly, until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add toasted spices and cook, stirring constantly, about 1 minute longer. Add cauliflower and cook, stirring constantly, until spices coat florets, about 2 minutes longer.

4. Add tomatoes, water, chickpeas, and 1 teaspoon salt; increase heat to medium-high and bring mixture to boil, scraping bottom of pan with wooden spoon to loosen browned bits. Cover and reduce heat to medium. Simmer briskly, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are tender, 10 to 15 minutes. Stir in peas and cream or coconut milk; continue to cook until heated through, about 2 minutes longer. Adjust seasoning with salt and serve immediately, passing condiments separately.

A recent online search for recipes with cardamom turned up one for spiced brownies at one of my favorite food sites, Smitten Kitchen. Deb says, “Welcome to your new brownie nirvana.” I wouldn’t go that far; my stand-by recipe (from Alice Medrich’s Cookies and Brownies) is pretty solid. But this was a nice alternative. I used 1 tsp. chipotle powder, and the brownies have only a hint of spice. My 3yo liked them, but a 2yo friend declared them “too ‘picy.”

Here, served with Haagen Dazs Five Brown Sugar ice cream, recommended by my friend JB (good, but won’t sway me from my allegiance to Sonny’s vanilla):

The Baked Brownie, Spiced Up
Adapted from Baked: New Frontiers in Baking and the Baked Bakery in Red Hook, Brooklyn

So, of course the story is even more complicated than this. You see, my friend jotted down the recipe they were using back in the day for the chipotle brownie, so I could try it at home. But I lost it. For three years. And only found it recently, coicidentally, just a couple weeks before someone gave me a copy of the Baked cookbook. Which turned out to have their brownie recipe, improved over the years with more chocolate and more butter (thankyouverymuch) but no chipotle version. And I really had liked that chipotle version.

Below, I have cobbled together the spices from the older recipe with the current one so you can attempt an unofficial version of their very subtly spicy brownies. Not interested in spices? Just skip the chipotle, cardamom and cinnamon. Either way, welcome to your new brownie nirvana.

Yield: 24 brownies

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons dark unsweetened cocoa powder
1 to 1 1/2 teaspoons chipotle powder (I didn’t have this and used smoky spicy paprika, with a very similiar flavor profile, instead) (for the spicy version)
3/4 teaspoon cinnamon (for the spicy version)
1/4 teaspoon cardamom (for the spicy version)
11 ounces dark chocolate (60 to 72% cacao), coarsely chopped
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 teaspoon instant espresso powder
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1/2 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
5 large eggs, at room temperature
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Butter the sides and bottom of a 9 x 13 glass or light-colored metal baking pan.

In a medium bowl, whisk the flour, salt, cocoa powder and spices (chipotle, cinnamon and cardamom), if you’re using them, together.

Put the chocolate, butter, and instant espresso powder in a large bowl and set it over a saucepan of simmering water, stirring occasionally, until the chocolate and butter are completely melted and smooth. Turn off the heat, but keep the bowl over the water and add the sugars. Whisk until completely combined, then remove the bowl from the pan. The mixture should be room temperature.

Add 3 eggs to the chocolate mixture and whisk until combined. Add the remaining eggs and whisk until combined. Add the vanilla and stir until combined. Do not overbeat the batter at this stage or your brownies will be cakey.

Sprinkle the flour mixture over the chocolate mixture. Using a spatula (not a whisk), fold the flour mixture into the chocolate until just a bit of the flour mixture is visible.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top. Bake in the center of the oven for 30 minutes, rotating the pan halfway through the baking time, until a toothpick inserted into the center of the brownies comes out with a few moist crumbs sticking to it. Let the brownies cool completely, then cut them into squares and serve.

Tightly covered with plastic wrap, the brownies keep at room temperature for up to 3 days.

In a strange coincidence, my husband G. Grod requested The Misfits from the library, though it was me who’d heard it referenced on a recent Mad Men. It’s a John Huston film, with a screenplay by Arthur Miller, based on a story he wrote while he was in Reno waiting for his divorce to come through so he could marry Marilyn.

Marilyn is Roslyn, a recent divorcee, who falls in with Clark Gable’s aging cowboy lothario, Eli Wallach’s bitter mechanic, Montgomery Clift’s fading rodeo rider and her landlady, Isabelle:

Isabelle Steers: The Leave It state. Ya got money you want to gamble? Leave it here. You got a wife you want to get ride of? Get rid of her here. Extra atom bomb you don’t need? Blow it up here. Nobody’s gonna mind in the slightest

.

The men are all in love with Roslyn, though she and Gable try their hand at playing house. Tensions build, and reach a breaking point in a breathtaking sequence in the mountains with the men chasing mustangs.

The film never seemed to find its footing for me, though. Ostensibly it’s about a group of outcasts trying to find their way in a changing world. I think it was at least as much about the futility of group friendships and how men can act like vicious idiots to and about women. Miller’s screenplay is verbose, and not suited to Monroe’s twitchy, breathy attempts at acting. Gable seems like he’s playing himself, Wallach is fine, but it’s only Clift who caused me to feel anything for any of the characters other than the horses.

Uneven, but still fascinating, if only for the glimpse of Monroe and Gable in their last film, and how prophetic the film seems in retrospect. As for prophecy, this is one of the bits of trivia listed at IMDB:

On the last day of filming, Clark Gable said, “Christ, I’m glad this picture’s finished. She [Monroe] damn near gave me a heart attack.” On the next day, Gable suffered a severe coronary thrombosis. He died in hospital from a heart attack just ten days later.

We had a lovely supper last weekend with friends we hadn’t seen in too long. Nutmeg in the casserole and cardamom in the cake made for a warming winter supper.

Alas, a bad choice in ice cream nearly derailed the cake. (The maker was apologetic and quick to offer restitution.) The cake achieved redemption when later paired with Sonny’s vanilla.

Chicken Noodle Casserole:

Chicken Noodle Casserole from Cook’s Country

Use leftover roasted or poached chicken in this recipe or buy a rotisserie-cooked bird at the supermarket.

Serves 8 to 10

Topping
2 tablespoons unsalted butter , melted
1 cup fresh bread crumbs
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley leaves

Filling
Table salt
12 ounces egg noodles
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 small onion , chopped fine
1 pound white mushrooms , cleaned and sliced thin
Ground black pepper
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 cloves garlic , minced
3 cups low-sodium chicken broth
3 tablespoons dry sherry
2 cups sour cream
4 cups cubed leftover chicken
1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley leaves
2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme leaves
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg

1. For the topping: Mix melted butter, bread crumbs, Parmesan, and parsley together in bowl.

2. For the filling: Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 350 degrees. Bring 4 quarts water to boil in Dutch oven. Add 1 tablespoon salt and noodles and cook until nearly tender. Drain and set aside in colander.

3. Melt 2 tablespoons butter in now-empty Dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion and cook until lightly browned, about 5 minutes. Add mushrooms, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper and cook until mushrooms begin to brown, about 7 minutes.

4. Stir in remaining 4 tablespoons butter until melted. Add flour and stir until lightly browned, about 2 minutes. Add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Gradually whisk in broth, sherry, and sour cream, and cook, not letting mixture boil, until thickened, 5 to 7 minutes. Stir in chicken, noodles, parsley, thyme, and nutmeg and season with salt and pepper.

5. Transfer mixture to 3-quart baking dish. Top with bread-crumb mixture and bake until browned and bubbly, about 30 minutes. Cool 5 minutes. Serve.

Lovely local Liberty apples:

The finished apple cake:

Upside-Down Apple Cake with Winter Spices, adapted from this recipe at Cook’s Country

Serves 8

4 Tbl. Butter
½ c. packed light brown sugar
1/8 tsp. Salt
4 firm-fleshed apples, peeled, cored and cut into ½-inch slices, for about 5 cups

½ c. sour cream
1 large egg plus 1 yolk
½ tsp. Vanilla
½ c. whole wheat pastry flour
¾ c. all-purpose flour
½ tsp. Baking powder
¼ tsp. Baking soda
¼ tsp. Salt
¾ tsp. Ground cinnamon
¾ tsp. Ground ginger
¼ tsp. Ground cardamom
8 Tbl. Unsalted butter, cut into chunks and at room temperature

1.Place oven rack in center position and preheat oven to 350F. Lightly butter or spray a 9-inch cake pan.
2.Place butter in large, heavy skillet over medium-high heat. When butter stops foaming, add sugar and stir to combine. Continue to cook until sugar turns dark brown, about 2 minutes, swirling pan occasionally. Add salt and apples and fold with spatula to combine. Cook, stirring often, until apples have softened slightly and juices are thickened and syrupy, 5 to 7 minutes. Remove pan from heat and pour apples into prepared pan.
3.In small bowl, whisk together ¼ c. sour cream, egg, yolk, and vanilla until well combined.
4.Place flour, sugar, baking powder, soda, salt, and spices in large bowl. Use electric mixer on low speed for 15 seconds to blend. Add butter and remaining ¼ c. sour cream and mix on low until dry ingredients are moistened, 1 or 2 minutes. Increase speed to medium and mix for 2 minutes. Add sour cream/egg mixture and beat on medium-high, scraping down sides of bowl, until batter is homogeneous and fluffy, about 1 minute.
5.Spoon batter over apples and gently spread out to thin layer that covers apples. Bake until cake is a dark golden brown and tester comes out clean when inserted in center, 35 to 40 minutes. Let pan cool on wire rack 5 minutes.
6.Place serving plate over top of pan and invert. Let cake sit inverted for about 1 minute without tapping or shaking pan. Cake will slowly detach itself. Once cake is on platter, gently remove pan. Serve warm or at room temperature with with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream.

A la mode:

Frost/Nixon finally came up in my library queue. My husband G. Grod wasn’t interested; he abhors bio-pics. So I squeezed in viewings here and there. It was mostly well done and engaging. Frank Langella and Michael Sheen reprise the roles they created on stage. Langella does a great job playing an historic figure without simple mimicking Nixon, or resorting to caricature, as would have been easy to do. Sheen is ridiculously likable as lightweight television host David Frost, and given a bit of grounding by his director John Birt, played by Matthew McFadyen in a truly awful blond wig. (NB to MM fans: he goes running butt-naked into the ocean in one scene.) Sam Rockwell and Kevin Bacon are strong in supporting roles.

David Frost: I’ve had an idea for an interview: Richard Nixon.
John Birt: You’re a talk show host. I spent yesterday watching you interview the Bee Gees.
David Frost: Weren’t they terrific?

My one problem is how overly dramatized the film became. There was more than enough to have a quiet, moving film. Instead, there’s a pivotal event near the end, invented for dramatic purpose, which spurs Frost into an utterly predictable montage and through to the easily anticipated end. What elevates the film are the performances and the small details of Nixon’s private life.

At The New York Review of Books, author Paula Fox, on moving from Manhattan to Brooklyn:

The evening of the day we moved in, I made a quick supper. We sat at a table surrounded by stacked cartons that evoked in me a memory of Stonehenge, a cardboard one. The atmosphere at our table was a mix of hilarity and malaise. The neighborhood and the house felt alien. We had moved into a foreign city, a feeling shared by some of our friends in Manhattan in those years, and indeed still.

The piece is ostensibly a review of a reissue of a book by a former neighbor and friend of hers, L.J. Davis. Instead, it’s a beautifully written mini-memoir that happens to discuss the book. (Link from The Morning News)

I was stunned by the power of Fox’s writing when, as an adult, I read her Newbery Award winning Slave Dancer. Monkey Island and One-Eyed Cat were good, too. I have a few of her books on my to-read shelf, including her memoir.

Did you know she’s the biological grandmother of Courtney Love?

I feel like a heretic writing this, but the original Muppet Movie kinda creeped me out on a recent re-watching with my kids. “Rainbow Connection!” “Movin’ Right Along!” What could go wrong?

For starters, the villain of the film is Charles Durning’s Doc Hopper, who owns a chain of frog-leg restaurants. When he fails to convince Kermit to shill for him, Doc Hopper goes on a cross-country chase, hiring goons with guns and even a frog assassin with a deadly trident. An additional overlong scene with Mel Brooks as an evil Nazi-ish scientist trying to melt Kermit’s brain was similarly disturbing.

Add in the annoying, feminist’s nightmare of Miss Piggy, along with Gonzo’s good-time chicken Camilla, a host of celebrity cameos that weren’t funny, and WAY too many awkward scenes of Muppets walking, and that’s it for me, even with a gargantuan closing scene featuring all the Muppets, ever. (According to IMDB’s trivia, both Tim Burton and John Landis were in that crowd.) This was the first Muppet project to take place in the real world, and it didn’t work. I won’t watch it again, though I’m happy to view the collections of The Muppet Show and read the excellent new comic by Boom Studios with my kids, 6 and 3yo.

Valentino: The Last Emperor is a dishy little documentary about European designer Valentino, the last of the big-name global fashion designers to run his own house. At 75, after 45 years designing, Valentino continued to work daily, even as his company was sold and then taken over, and rumors flew about his retirement. The film shows the events leading up to his last few shows, as well as the amazing 45th anniversary celebration that took place in Rome.

Fashionistas will delight in glimpses of insiders like Anna Wintour and Karl Lagerfeld, as well as celebrities like Gwyneth Paltrow, Anne Hathaway and Uma Thurman. Valentino is a dynamo, but he shares the spotlight with longtime business and personal partner Giancarlo Giametti, as well as with his own stunning creations, brought into being by a hard-working team of numerous seamstresses.

I finally made it to a showing at the Trylon microcinema in south Minneapolis. It’s owned and run by Barry Kryshka of Take-Up Productions. With an entry through an art gallery, it’s a sweet little space, and Frank Capra’s American Madness was a sweet little little film to see there.

Walter Huston (director John’s father, and Angelica’s grandfather) is Thomas Dickson, a bank manager who provides loans or withholds them based on hunches and a person’s character. In the financially volatile 1930’s, this drives the bank board nuts, and they try to oust him. The plot takes a guy with a gambling problem, the mob, a neglected wife, and a few nice guys, and mixes it all to good effect. It’s funny, clever and touching with some striking images, particularly of a run on the bank.

The Trylon shows two films, about 7 and 9, on Fridays and Saturdays. It’s near Midori’s Floating World or the Town Talk Diner for dinner, or Glaciers Cafe for frozen custard before or after. The Trylon has good popcorn with real butter, with a good selection of beverages and candy. They just published their winter schedule, December is Powell/Pressburger films (”The Archers“), January is Johnny Depp and February is Godard. They’ll also have a Brit-noir series at the Heights that runs December through March.

3yo Guppy and I had some time to kill before his dentist appointment this morning. I know I always say I need to read more of what I’ve got rather than buying new or used, but these fairly flew off the shelves at me, crying, “Take me home! Home!”

So I did.

Little Black Book of Stories by A.S. Byatt
The Unpossessed by Tess Schesinger, which I saw reviewed in Vogue years ago, and wanted ever since
Expletives Deleted and Nights at the Circus (look at the gorgeous covers!) by Angela Carter
Rebecca by Daphne DuMaurier, which I recently realized I didn’t own, and thus promptly corrected.