Girl Detective

My friend The Hoff and I joke how we spend most of our Sunday morning yoga class thinking about what we’re going to eat when we’re done. This past Sunday, all I could think about was having another go at poached eggs and hollandaise with greens.

The previous week I tried to do an Egg Florentine-y thing with English muffins, sauteed greens, poached eggs, and hollandaise sauce from Bittman’s How to Cook Everything. I overcooked the eggs, the hollandaise was too thin, and nothing finished together, so the dish had hot and cold elements. Even with all that, it wasn’t bad. But I wanted to see if I could do better.

So I turned to my recently acquired copy of Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking that my mom unearthed from her basement.

First, though, the poached eggs (which Linda Holmes, aka Miss Ally from Television without Pity, attempted recently, too, and wrote about at NPR.)

How to poach eggs

To transfer the egg from the shell to the water you may either break it directly into the water as described below, or break it into a saucer, tile the saucer directly over the water, and slip the egg in.

A saucepan or skillet 8 to 10 inches in diameter and 2.5 to 3 inches deep
Vinegar (which helps the eggs hold their shape)
4 very fresh eggs
A wooden spoon or spatula
A skimmer or slotted spoon
A bowl of cold water
A bowl of hot water containing 1.5 tsp. salt per quart
A clean towel

1. Pour 2 inches of water into the pan or skillet and add 1 tablespoon of vinegar per quart of water. Bring to the simmer.

2. Break one of the eggs, and, holding it as closely over the water as possible, let it fall in. Immediate and gently push the white over the yolk with a wooden spoon for 2 to 3 seconds. Maintain the water at the barest simmer and proceed with the other eggs in the same manner.

(My eggs were not very fresh, as the recipe specifies, which perhaps accounts for the “ghosting” of the whites.)

3. After 4 minutes, remove the first eggs with the skimmer and test with your finger. The white should be set, the yolk still soft to the touch. Place the egg in the cold water; this washes off the vinegar and stops the cooking. Remove the rest of the eggs as they are done, and poach others in the same water if you are doing more. (*) The eggs may remain for several hours in cold water, or may be drained and refrigerated.

Next, I warmed one of the biscuits my husband G. Grod made while I was at yoga, and thawed some frozen spinach.

Then I reheated the eggs according to instruction and placed them atop the biscuits:

To reheat eggs, trim off any trailing bits of white with a knife. Place them in hot, salted water for about half a minute to heat them through. Remove one at a time with a slotted spoon. Holding a folded towel under the spoon, roll the egg back and forth for a second to drain it, and it is ready to serve.

Julia suggests making hollandaise by hand before using her blender recipe so that the cook can learn how egg yolks behave. I was ravenous after yoga class, so ignored this and took on the blender recipe.

Hollandaise Sauce Made in the Electric Blender

This very quick method for making hollandaise cannot fail when you add your butter in a small stream of droplets. If the sauce refuses to thicken, pour it out, then pour it back into the whizzing machine in a thin stream of droplets. As the butter cools, it begins to cream and forms itself into a thick sauce. If you are used to handmade hollandaise, you may find the blender variety lacks something in quality; this is perhaps due to complete homogenization. But as the technique is well within the capabilities of an 8-year-old child, it has much to recommend it.

For about 3/4 cup

3 egg yolks
2 Tb. lemon juice (I’d use less; this was very tart)
1/4 tsp. salt
Pinch of pepper
4 oz. or 1 stick of butter
A towel, if you do not have a splatterproof blender jar

1. Place the egg yolks, lemon juice, and seasoning in the blender jar.
2. Cut the butter into pieces and heat it to foaming hot in a small saucepan.
3. Cover the jar and blend the egg yolk mixture at top speed for 2 seconds. Uncover, and still blending at top speed, immediately start pouring on the hot butter in a thin stream of droplets. (You may need to protect yourself with a towel during this operation.) By the time two thirds of the butter has gone in, the sauce will be a thick cream. Omit the milky residue at the bottom of the butter pan. Taste the sauce, and blend in more seasoning if necessary. (*) If not used immediately, set the jar in tepid, but not warm, water.

And so, here was my second attempt at poached eggs with hollandaise.

The biscuits weren’t sturdy enough, the spinach was too we, and the recipe made far more hollandaise than I needed. But still, a big improvement over last weekend’s attempt, especially in the consistency of the sauce.

At the New York Times, Nina Sankovitch is profiled as she nears her goal of reading a book a day for a year. She began last year on her birthday, with The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery (a book I want to read but haven’t, yet.) She posted a review the next day and kept going.

Ms. Sankovitch claims not to be a Type A maniac and does seem pretty normal. A non-reading indulgence, she says, is watching “NCIS” while folding laundry. Still, to make this work she’s cut out a lot – the garden, The New Yorker, wasting time online, ambitious cooking, clothes shopping, coffee with friends.

In addition, the family is comfortably off, and she has two older kids, 11 and 14, both readers. I’m glad the piece included the details of how she made it work. And her story has struck a chord with readers. I followed the link from The Morning News, but later saw it at Pages Turned, and other book blogs.

I like the idea of Sankovitch’s goal even if it wouldn’t fit with my life and I’m not sure I’d want to do a whole year even if it did. There are so many books I want to read that simply wouldn’t fit into a day even if I could read for the entirety of it.

But a week? A fortnight? A month? Any of those would sure go a long way toward reading what I own, rather than buying or borrowing new stuff. I’m pondering it. Maybe I start with a week, and see how it goes.

What does everyone else think?

Another Sandman-related graphic novel, Thessaly, Witch for Hire by Bill Willingham (Fables) and Shawn McManus, revisits a character from Neil Gaiman’s Sandman storyline A Game of You. She’s the last and most powerful of the Thessalian witches, a Greek coven. When an old “friend” turns up, he turns out to be part of the problem. He’s a ghost called Fetch, and he’s called down a series of demons on her that she’s had to dispatch. The problem, though, is that she’s trying to live in peace, after a lifetime of violence. Demon killing is not only NOT peaceful, it’s not low profile, so Thessaly has to keep moving once the neighbors twig to what she’s up to. But the biggest and baddest demon of them all is yet to come, and Thessaly has no idea how, or if, she’s going to survive it. She and Fetch give it a go, though, with predicable results.

This is a good one-off story, entertaining and well-drawn by McManus, who created the character along with Gaiman. There’s funny banter, and some mean people get what’s coming to them. Good, but doesn’t scratch much deeper than the surface, and some graphic sex and violence mean it’s for older teens and adults.

Jill Thompson’s Dead Boy Detectives is a manga-size digest that plays in Neil Gaiman’s Sandman sandbox. Thompson was one of the best of the many artists who illustrated Gaiman’s 75-issue run on the comic-book series Sandman. Here, she takes two characters from Season of Mists, Charles Rowland and Edwin Paine, two boy ghosts who refused to die when it was their time. They stayed on as ghosts, helping those without power solve mysteries.

Rowland and Paine are summoned from England to Chicago by a group of girls whose friend at their boarding school has disappeared. The teachers act suspicious and won’t answer questions. The girls hide the boys in drag (of course) but it’s the boys masquerading as living, not as girls, that is the most funny and even touching at times. Thompson uses a manga style to illustrate her own story, and it works well here. It’s a cute, sweet pop-culture story told in a cute, sweet art style and format with cameos by Morpheus and Death. A good quick read for fans of Sandman and of manga, it’s suitable for middle-grade students and older.

Cold Summer by Jennifer Young is a graphic novel that’s been sitting on my shelf since I was pregnant with 3.5yo Guppy. My friend Duff of Girl Reaction sent it with a bunch of other goodies, and I never got ’round to it, which is a shame, since it’s pretty good.

India is a 20-something southern belle sent to a camp in rural northern Minnesota by her mom so she can quit smoking. She’s immature and self-centered, but she’s also smart and funny, especially in how she deals with not smoking (she doesn’t not smoke) and her variety of campmates–an Asian lesbian, an African-American woman, a spookily quiet woman from Wisconsin and a Minnesota-nice group leader. Rural Minnesota’s a foreign land to India, who’s like a groomed poodle among lynxes. Her drawl and self-centeredness can be wearing, but they’re offset by glimmers of self-awareness and occasional peeks of insight into others.

At the end, India says her story isn’t over by a long shot. Yet I can’t find evidence of further volumes of the Cold Summer story. Jennifer Young and her book are no longer with Cute Girl Demographics, the publisher of the book. Instead, she’s done collections of her online comic.

In an extremely weird instance of confluence, Michael May reviewed this 2005 book at Comic World News just last week, on the same day I finished it. Apparently it leapt off both our shelves at the same time.

Cold Summer v. 1 is worth looking at and picking up if you see it, but not seeking out, as it seems to be a standalone that stops in the middle.

I read online using Google reader, through which I subscribe to sites I like so I receive posts when they’re updated. I read through when I’m able, and rarely have a zero balance.

Certain posts and links tend to accumulate, like long articles and videos. I took tonight to catch up, and so watched a tremendous melange: the mean Joe Green video, Kate DiCamillo reading from her new book, a Freaks and Geeks retrospective (link from Sepinwall), a film on synesthesia and another on visual hallucinations (link from Bookslut).

I have been well entertained, and feel suitably well informed.

Tomorrow is Rain Taxi’s Twin Cities Book Festival. Authors include literary heavyweights like Robert Olen Butler, Nicholson Baker, and Lorrie Moore as well as local treasures like Alison McGhee, John Coy and Zander Cannon.

It’s from 10 to 5 at the Minneapolis Community and Technical College. It’s a great event. Go, go, go!

Warm. Comforting. Not necessarily healthful!

Chickpea and Leek Soup from The Naked Chef by Jamie Oliver

Ingredients:

* 12 oz chickpeas, soaked overnight in water, or a 15 oz. can, drained and rinsed
* 1 medium potato, peeled
* 6 leeks, finely, sliced
* 1 tbsp olive oil
* knob of butter
* 2 cloves of garlic, finely, sliced
* salt
* freshly ground pepper
* 3-4 cups chicken or vegetable stock
* 2 handful parmesan cheese, grated
* extra virgin olive oil

Directions:

1. Rinse the soaked chickpeas, cover with water, and cook with the potato until tender.
2. Remove the outer skin of the leeks, slice lengthways from the root up, wash carefully and slice finely.
3. Warm a thick-bottomed pan, and add the tablespoon of oil and the knob of butter. Add the leeks and garlic to the pan, and sweat gently with a good pinch of salt until tender and sweet.
4. Add the drained chickpeas and potato and cook for 1 minute. Add about two-thirds of the stock and simmer for 15 minutes.
5. Purée half the soup in a food processor and leave the other half chunky this gives a lovely smooth comforting feel but also keeps a bit of texture.
6. Now add enough of the remaining stock to achieve the consistency you like. Check for seasoning, and add Parmesan to taste to round off the flavours.
7. This is classy enough for a starter, but I like it best for lunch in a big bowl with a good drizzle of my best peppery extra virgin olive oil, a grinding of black pepper and an extra sprinkling of Parmesan.
© Jamie Oliver 2002 http://www.jamieoliver.com

I only used 3 leeks (what I had at home) added chopped celery and pureed all of it, then topped with fried sage leaves.

Creamy Cauliflower Casserole with Bacon and Cheddar from Cook’s Country 10/2006

Roughly chopped cauliflower acts as a casserole “filler,” much like rice or pasta, while the large florets add texture.

Serves 6 to 8
8 slices bacon , chopped, cooked until crisp, and cooled
3 cups shredded cheddar cheese
1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley leaves
table salt
2 heads cauliflower , trimmed and cut into 1-inch florets (about 8 cups)
4 ounces cream cheese
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/4 cup sour cream
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1. Mix bacon, 1/2 cup cheese, and parsley in small bowl. Set aside for topping.

2.Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 350 degrees. Bring 4 quarts water to boil in large pot. Add 1 tablespoon salt and cauliflower and cook until tender, about 7 minutes. Drain and rinse cauliflower with cold water. Transfer half of cauliflower to cutting board and roughly chop. (Topping and cauliflower may be refrigerated separately for up to 1 day.)

3. Melt cream cheese in now-empty pot over low heat. Stir in heavy cream and remaining 2 1/2 cups cheese and cook until cheese starts to melt, about 3 minutes. Off heat, stir in sour cream, cauliflower, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and pepper. Transfer mixture to 2-quart baking dish, sprinkle with topping, and bake until browned and bubbly, about 15 minutes. Serve.

I didn’t have cream cheese but I had roasted cauliflower that hadn’t gone well and heavy cream about to expire, so I made a roux with a tablespoon of butter and flour apiece, added the cream and stirred till thick and added the cheese to that. Cream cheese would have been easier, but a trip to the store for only that? No way. I didn’t have three cups of cheddar either, so I added mozzarella and parmesan to get the right amount. This worked fine and used what I had on hand.

Regular readers know, I have a LOT of unread books. I write about them often. I read them less often. I fret and make vows, then break them, and fret some more after the book-buy buzz has worn off. I don’t think I’m alone. A reader suggested recently that I made a from-the-shelves challenge. I got inspired, so here are two related shelf challenges for the new year.

Who’s with me? Ideas? Suggestions? If you think these sound good, spread the word to the book-blogging community, and I’ll firm up details to launch at the new year.

2010 Balance the Books Challenge

I buy and borrow new books more often than I read books on my shelf. Often, the newly purchased books gather dust, and become old books. Next year, in 2010, I want to balance my reading. For the year, I’d like to read a third new books, a third borrowed books, and a third books from my shelf, whether first or re-reads.

I hope to get a color chart to track the progress with red/yellow/blue for each category. My ideal is to read as many shelf books as I borrow or buy new. I’ll do a post on or about the end of each month so readers can post progress reports.

Clear The Shelves Challenge (2010 and Beyond!)

In an effort to chip away at the nearly 200 books I own but haven’t read (and want to!), I challenge other readers to read at least 25 books a year that have been on your shelf for over a year. I’ll do quarterly posts for readers to post progress reports. At the end of the year, we could chip in for a gift certificate for the reader with the most shelf books read.

Even though I know they’re good for me, I still sometimes have trouble getting excited about eating greens. Here are three dishes from last week in which I used them to good results, even the stems!

Kale and Ricotta Salata Salad, from Bitten

Eggs Benedict with tarragon hollandaise alongside sauteed beet and radish greens (stems reserved)

Beet green and kale stems (pretty!)

Egg sammie with Canadian bacon, cheese, and green-stem fritatta

When I got my first solo apartment, in the Art Museum area of Philly in 1991, my father bought a bookcase for me and finished it in a cherry stain to match the rest of my furniture. When I moved again in 1994, I told him I needed another bookcase. Not wanting to go through the PITA of finishing another one, he bought the same bookcase, already finished.

Or so he thought. It arrived, and the wrong case was in the box. It was unfinished. As I’m hardly handy, and only sporadically compulsive and perfectionistic, I let it be.

Flash forward fifteen years. My boys have outgrown our beloved stroller of countless miles, the Mountain Buggy Urban Double. I barter with a woodworker, in exchange for finishing the bookcase and two other pieces. Finally, after a decade and a half, I have a truly matching set of bookcases. They’re lovely. And full.

The ostensible protagonist of Stieg Larsson’s posthumously published bestseller, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, is journalist Mikael Blomkvist. It’s true center, though, is the girl of the title, Lisbeth Salander, who doesn’t get fully introduced until page 38:

[Lisbeth] was a pale, anorexic young woman who had hair as short as a fuse, and a pierced nose and eyebrows. She had a wasp tattoo about an inch long on her neck, a tattooed loop around the biceps of her left arm and another around her left ankle. On those occasions when she had been wearing a tank top, [her boss] also saw that she had a dragon tattoo on her left shoulder blade. She was a natural redhead, but she dyed her hair raven black. She looked as though she had just emerged from a week-long orgy with a gang of hard rockers.

Larsson’s novel is a complicated one. Blomkvist is sued for libel by a shady businessman, then is asked to investigate a decades-old murder in a wealthy family. Salander, meanwhile, does her own investigations in other areas until her path crosses with Blomkvist’s. Blomkvist is engaging, the mysteries are involving, but it’s the character of Salander that’s truly bewitching. I enjoyed this book up to a point, then I flat-out loved it and begrudged putting it down. It’s in the spirit of Smilla’s Sense of Snow, the books of Henning Mankel, but it reminded me most strongly, in only good ways, of Tana French’s novels, In the Woods and The Likeness. Highly recommended, but not for the squeamish.

At the Sun Times (link from Morning News), Roger Ebert remembers wondering, as a student:

What do I really need that isn’t here in this room? Its dimensions are a little more than twice as wide and deep as I am tall. I don’t know, maybe 150 square feet? Here I have the padded wood chair in which I sit tilted against the wall, my feet braced on my straight desk chair. I am holding the three-inch-thick Paul Hamlyn edition of Shaw’s complete plays. This room contains: A wood single bed, an African blanket covering it, a wood desk and its gooseneck lamp, a small dresser with a mirror over it, my portable typewriter, a small wardrobe containing my clothes, a steamer trunk serving as a coffee table, and two bookcases, filled to overflowing. What more do I actually need?

I enjoyed reading Ebert’s description of his book collection and office, and his admission–only toward the end!–that he’d miss his wife. I am a reader, but also a weeder of books. This has led to moments of regret, though few compared to the number of volumes I’ve gotten rid of. My husband G. Grod is more of Ebert’s stripe. Given his druthers, he’d never get rid of a book. (Alas, we are not the king and queen of infinite space. Or many bookshelves.)

I was thinking along the same lines as Ebert just this morning, as I worked in my office, organized books on our shelves, and spent time in our back bedroom and porch. Those three spaces–bedroom, porch, “office” (aka closet) are about all I’d need in a living space. They comprise my fortress of solitude, for whatever scant time I spend there to read, write and rest. Food and company I find elsewhere. (The latter, in the form of my two boys, usually finds me, first.)

All recipes from Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone

Beet Salad with Ricotta Salata and Olives

1 1/2 lbs. beets, steamed or roasted, peeled
1 sm. garlic clove
salt
2 tsp. fresh lemon juice
2 Tbl. extra-virgin olive oil
2 handfuls arugula
8 Kalamata olives
4 oz. ricotta salata, thinly sliced (I used Shepherd’s Hope cheese from Shepherd’s Way farm. Ricotta salata is a dry, tart sheep’s cheese from Italy. Another good sub is feta.)

Cut beets into wedges or large dice, keeping different colors separate. Pound the garlic with 1/4 tsp. salt in a mortar until smooth, then whisk in the lemon juice and olive oil. Dressing should be tart. Toss beets in enough dressing to coat lightly. Arrange beets on platter and garnish with arugula. Just before serving, tuck cheese and olives among the greens. If any dressing remains, spoon it over cheese.

Here’s a detail of the salad. I thought the beets looked like tuna sashimi. They were from a chiogga beet I’d roasted alongside red beets.

For the main dish, I adapted one of my favorite dishes from the cookbook.

Chickpeas with Potatoes and Tomatoes (or, as 3yo Guppy says Chickpeas with Tomatoes and Tomatoes)

1/3 c. extra virgin olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
3 red potatoes, peeled and diced into cubes about the size of chickpeas
2 carrots, cut into 1/2-in. rounds
3-4 stalks celery, cut into 1/4 inch slices
1 pinch dried red pepper flakes
2 plump garlic cloves mashed with 1/2 tsp. ground coriander
1 c. diced tomatoes
3 c. chickpeas, cooked, or 2 15-oz. cans, rinsed
salt and pepper
1/2 c. water, broth or wine
1/2 c. chopped parsley

Heat the oil in a wide skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until it’s lightly colored, stirring occasionally, about 8 minutes. Add the potatoes, carrots, chile and garlic and cook for 5 minbutes more. Add the tomatoes and chickpeas, season with 1 teaspoon salt and a few twists from the pepper mill, and add the water. Cover and simmer gently until the potatoes are tender, 15 to 20 minutes. Taste for salt, remove from heat and stir in parsley.

For dessert, I succeeded in saving the failed batch of fig jam from last week that I botched by putting in too much (1 teaspoon) ground cardamom. Madison notes, “Everyone needs a dessert to fall back on in a pinch, and this is one.” This saved the jam, was easy to make, and turned out well even though I forgot the baking powder! Now that’s a useful dessert recipe.

Jam Bars or Tart (I used a 9 inch tart pan)

1/4 (1/2 cup) unsalted butter
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1/2 cup packed light brown or white sugar
1 tsp. vanilla
1 egg
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 c. all-purpose flour
1/2 c. whole wheat pastry flour
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 to 3/4 c. preserves
3/4 c. chopped walnuts, pecans or rolled oats

Preheat oven to 350F. Cream butter and sugars until light and fluffy. Add vanilla and egg, beat until smooth, then add dry ingredients except nuts.

Set aside about 3/4 c. of the dough and press the rest evenly into an 8 x 10″ baking pan or a 9″ tart pan with removable bottom, or pie plate. Spread the preserves over the top. Mix the reserved dough with the nuts or oats and crumble it over the top. Bake until lightly browned on top, about 40 minutes. Let cool, then cut into squares or wedges. Serve with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream.

The other night, 6yo Drake and 3yo Guppy took forever to fall asleep. When I checked on them before I went to bed, this is what I found:

The bottom bunk is Guppy’s; they’d fallen asleep while reading comics. I tried to remove the comics, figuring I’d leave Drake there to sleep. Unfortunately, Guppy woke. Also unfortunately, he’s going through another bout of 3-related insanity.

“Get Drake out! Get him out! OUT!” Screaming. Crying. Thrashing.

I managed to nudge Drake to consciousness, then put him on the ladder; he climbed to the upper bunk on autopilot. Guppy finally stopped screaming. He tried to shove the rest of the comics out of his bed; I hastily removed them to safety, and went to my own bed. A few minutes later, I heard Guppy again:

“I don’t WANT these friends!” This announcement was followed by a number of thumps as he threw the stuffed animals from his bed.

A little while later I heard him get up and go to the bathroom, then nothing more. I thought he’d gone back to bed and finally settled, but when my husband G. Grod came to the top of the stairs, Guppy was in the door to his room. He took one look at G and started to wail. He’d been standing in the hall, silent, trying unsuccessfully to get his pajamas back on. G helped him into them, and escorted him to bed. As per his usual, he insisted on the light staying on. After about ten minutes, I checked on him. He was asleep, for good this time, and I turned out the light.

Things ejected from Guppy’s bed:

Brothers: 1
Stuffed animals: 16
Comic books: 37

Inspired by the question posed by The Morning News about favorite books of childhood, and because I was too overwhelmed to send them my response, I dug through my kids’ shelves to unearth my copy of The Practical Princess by Jay Williams (better known as an author of the Danny Dunn series for children), illustrated by Friso Henstra.

This certainly was one of my favorite books as a girl, and is the one I choose as an adult because it’s entertaining and clever for all ages. Published in 1969, it’s now out of print. The princess of the title is a formidable heroine, and the main reason this book has endured in my affection:

Princess Bedelia was as lovely as the moon shining upon a lake full of waterlilies. She was as graceful as a cat leaping. And she was also extremely practical.

When she was born, three fairies had come to her cradle to give her gifts as was usual in that country. The first fairy had given her beauty. The second had given her grace. But the third, who was a wise old creature, had said, “I give her common sense.”

“I don’t think much of that gift,” said King Ludwig, raising his eyebrows. “What good is common sense to a princess? All she needs is charm.”

Nevertheless, when Bedelia was eighteen years old, something happened which made the king change his mind.

A dragon moved into the neighborhood.

Of course the dragon demands the princess as his due. How Bedelia responds to this dilemma is both laugh-out-loud funny and smart. When she is subsequently confronted with an unpleasant suitor, she also brings her wits and sense of humor to bear with excellent results.

The Practical Princess does a lot of things, and does them well. It turns fairy-tale tropes on their head, like the princess-demanding dragon, the ugly suitor, the difficult tasks, the suitor’s attempt to take what he cannot have, and a princely rescue. A more recent book, Princess Smarty-Pants, tried to do these same things, to worse effect, I thought. Bedelia is extremely likable, and an excellent role model for young girls, far superior to those namby-pamby Disney ones, who make me glad I have two boys and don’t have to fight against their encroaching influence. Also unlike those Disney damsels, Bedelia is not skinny with a Barbie-like bod. She wears a smashing orange empire-waist dress with pink boots, and could actually be pear shaped! Hensta’s illustrations are distinctive, a mixture of 60’s mod and cross-hatched detail, with brilliant colors that glow forty years on.

Keep an eye out for this treasure in library collections and used bookstores, especially if you suspect that the Disney-ification of the princess trope is as insidious as I think it is. I feel thrilled and fortunate to still have my childhood copy to share with my boys.

Here’s how I used last week’s box o’ veg:

Otsu, from Heidi Swanson’s book Super Natural Cooking:

Used up scallions and cuke, plus I added beet greens and blanched carrots to good effect.

Lime and Peanut Slaw, from Heidi Swanson’s 101 Cookbooks site:

Used cabbage and tomatoes.

Paolo’s Eggplant and Green Olive Tapenade:

Used up eggplant.

Foccaccia with chard and red/gold tomatoes:

I used Nick Malgieri’s dough recipe as the base, and added what I had on hand: chard, tomatoes, red onion and basil.

Green salad:

Used greens, thinly sliced chiogga beets, blanched green beans, chopped capers and goat cheese with green goddess dressing.

And finally, Roasted Cauliflower “Popcorn,” also from 101 Cookbooks:

3yo Guppy ate some! 6yo Drake tried it! And G. Grod and I fought over the rest. This is really a great recipe.

Inspired by this post at The Happy Accident (link from the inimitable Camille at Book Moot), I gathered my to-be-read (TBR) books in one place.

I organized them,* then borrowed the books from my husband G.Grod’s TBR shelf (yes, he has just one shelf) that I want to read too:

I counted: 151. Then I bought another graphic novel: 152. Then I remembered the Austen, Bronte, O’Brian and Shakespeare shelves downstairs: 183 (includes the 21 Aubrey/Maturin books), then I remembered the books I have on reserve at the library: 186.

I could read a book every other day and still not finish in a year. In reality, I read about 2 books a week; these alone would take me almost 2 years. Given future purchases/borrowings of graphic novels, new releases, and new recommendations, I estimate if I knuckle down, I could read what I have in three years.

Let’s say 3 years plus. Books, you are hereby on notice. I’m going to dust you off and read you by the end of 2012.

Hear that sound? It’s the books, laughing.

A few amusing books from the shelf:

A.S. Byatt’s Still Life, the sequel to Virgin in the Garden, which I read in 1997.

Iris Murdoch’s A Word Child, recommended to me by someone I no longer like.

Lonesome Dove, recommended to me by by JJ, a former co-worker and friend with whom I’ve fallen out of touch.

Ditto for Startide Rising and Zod Wallop, recommended to me by former co-worker CC whose cred is high with me because he recommended A Game of Thrones to me, and the Miles Vorkosigan novels, both of which I loved, albeit over a decade ago.

Children of God, the sequel to Mary Doria Russell’s The Sparrow, which I’m afraid to read in case it’s as emotionally wrenching as its predecessor.

And the most embarrassing entry: Getting Things Done by David Allen. Bookmark is at page 10.

And now I’ll get back to a recently purchased book, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, that I rationalized buying because it was for two book groups. Must stop buying books.

*in a manner that probably only makes sense to me (big books alpha by author, except Beowulf, which is by title, then mass market paperbacks (MMPB) alpha by author, and the rest of the big books by author, then graphic novels by size. The ones on top of the white bookcase are borrowed from G’s TBR shelf for illustrative purposes.

An informal poll of friends, culminating with local fashionista and vintage maven MD this morning on the street, confirms that this is my bag for fall:

which I’ve accessorized with this scarf:

Confession: I picked the bag to complement the scarf. Like the bag; love the scarf.

This weekend, my husband G. Grod took 6yo Drake and 3yo Guppy on a trip to Byerly’s, a local upscale grocery store. Inside, Drake complained it smelled bad and his stomach hurt. On the drive home, G. looked in the rear-view mirror. Drake turned pale, then threw up his breakfast.

Once home, a parental debate ensued. Was it a virus? His reaction to low blood sugar after mostly skipping supper the night before? The smell of the store? G. wasn’t sure about the third theory, but I think it might have been a combination of the latter two. I too have a sensitive schnoz, and Drake seems to have inherited it. Here are a things that make me feel as if I might lose my breakfast:

1. Scented laundry detergent, which I can smell as I walk by a house from their vent.
2. The smell of fried scrapple, which G. found at Byerly’s and cooked this morning for brekkie.
3. Most scented candles.
4. The smell of a Subway sandwich shop.
5. The smell of whatever onion dish they were making in my grocery coop’s deli last weekend.

Confronted with these, I breathe through my mouth. Perhaps that’s why I lose my breakfast less often than Drake does.