Girl Detective

Once upon a time, I dated a smart, dark-haired computer guy. We got engaged, set a date. I bought a dress and planned a ceremony and reception. As the wedding date approached, the relationship got worse. He said if I didn’t convert to Judaism, he wouldn’t go through with it. If I didn’t agree to having a kid right away, it was a deal breaker. He asked me to lie to my employer and say I wasn’t leaving after I was accepted to grad school. We fought. We said mean things. We cried and yelled a lot. Things got so bad he moved out and we postponed the wedding. Then, a surprising thing happened.

People kept asking us when we were moving back in. People kept asking if we’d set a new date. Not one person asked how we were doing, or if we needed help, or if canceling the date had maybe been a sign. Everyone knew things had been rocky, though not the extent or the details. The only person who didn’t encourage us to move ahead with the wedding was my psychotherapist, who waited patiently for me to figure things out on my own. It took me a few months, but I did. The relationship was over, only no one wanted to acknowledge it. Not him, not me, not family or friends. Instead of noticing the disintegrating relationship, everyone obsessed about the wedding.

I thought about my “postponed” wedding a lot last week as I read Heather McElhatton’s clever and surprising Jennifer Johnson is Sick of Being Single. Jennifer is single and miserable. Her sister and her ex are getting married, both on Valentine’s Day, to twist the knife a little deeper. She’s in an unfulfilling cubicle job, and the only dates she gets are so bad they’re almost surreal. Then she meets Brad–handsome, rich Brad, who asks her out. And keeps asking her out. As their relationship unfolds, it’s not great, but not entirely terrible, either. But the hope of a pretty, shiny wedding is very alluring to Jennifer, as well as to her family, Brad’s family and co-workers. The pressure for their relationship to succeed is tremendous. As many couples would, Jennifer and Brad begin to buckle beneath the weight of all those expectations.

McElhatton does an exceptional job of skewering the soap bubble that is the wedding dream. She unveils the process for what it is: a machine-like industry, meant for couples to go in, get bounced about and homogenized, then sent out into marriage with nary a clue. The book wonders, again and again, what happens when people get what they think they want. Weddings are just one example of how characters in the book distract themselves from the realities and unpleasantries of everyday life.

The book recalled my fumbled first wedding attempt all those years ago (more than fourteen, now.) I was in a flawed relationship; planning the wedding created more pressure than it could bear. The wedding, its details and particularly its fripperies, were like anesthesia. They were distractions from the relationship, rather than accessories to celebrate it. Once I realized that, I was done. I broke the engagement and ended the relationship. He moved out and away, and I moved on.

A few months later, I met a cute, smart, dark-haired guy into computers. We dated. We got engaged. We got married. We moved to Minnesota. Several years after that, when I combined our comic book collections, he said he finally felt like maybe he wasn’t just the rebound guy. (NB: I organized the comics AFTER we had our first child.) My second engagement, and the second wedding I planned, were very different from the first time around. This time, I knew to focus on the relationship, not the wedding. McElhatton, in Jennifer Johnson is Sick of Being Single, advocates the same thing. In an interview with The Onion AV Club, she said:

This book is a sleeper cell. I know it’s going to end up on the chick lit tables. I know it’s going to be packaged that way. I’m slipping one in there. I’m really hoping this breaks up some weddings.

It might sound mean spirited, but speaking from experience, I think she’s onto something. Had I gone through with the first wedding, I doubt the marriage would have lasted very long. This weekend, my husband and I will celebrate 11 years of being married. I’m glad I got it right the second time.

I’ll admit it; I’m biased. I bought T-Minus: the Race to the Moon because it’s illustrated by a friend of mine, Zander Cannon, and his no-relation co-worker Kevin Cannon, both of Big Time Attic. But I introduced myself to Zander to compliment him on his comic Replacement God, from the mid-90’s, so in a way, I made friends with him based on admiration for his work. It’s a nice bonus, then, that T-Minus is a well-written, strongly told story of the US and Russian space programs as they compete first for space, then for the moon.

Jim Ottaviani has carved a niche for himself writing comic books about true-life science, and he’s an able storyteller, mixing fact with invention to move the book forward. The Cannons’ art skillfully assists. It’s clear and straightforward, with distinct-looking characters, a necessity in a tale that might have had a cast of 400,000, as Ottaviani notes in his afterward. The historical facts of the progressing flights and failures of the program are detailed in the outside of the pages, which allows for a facts-only skimming before, during or after reading the whole book. By turns funny, sad and touching, T-Minus does a good job of balancing story and history. It’s accessible for older kids and adults, and is a good jumping off point to learn more about the history of space travel, which Ottaviani aids by including a list of further things to read and watch along with brief summaries. I’ve already reserved one DVD from the library, and I think I may need to watch The Right Stuff again, soon.

I found Steven Soderbergh’s The Informant!, like the exclamation point in its title, to be surprising and funny. It is funny in the way shown in the trailer–Matt Damon plays a pudgy, earnest guy blowing the whistle on his company’s practice of price fixing in the corn industry. It further surprises by casting actors known for comedy, like Joel McHale, Buster from Arrested Development and Biff from Back to the Future, as straight men. Scott Bakula as the befuddled FBI guy is also very good. Damon’s bizarre character is the center the others orbit around, and I liked the effect of having these guys play against type and react to Damon, who was very, very funny. He gained thirty pounds for the role, but what stood out for me were his lacquered hair and his endless array of ugly but expensive ties–I know I bought ones just like them in the early 90’s for my boyfriend and father. It’s Damon’s character, who starts out bumbling and is gradually revealed to be much more complicated, that really made this movie for me. Not high art, but definitely enjoyable and worth paying full price for, especially some of the reveals would be easily spoiled between now and the DVD release.

I bought Alissa Torres’ American Widow after I saw it recommended at Mental Multivitamin and Entertainment Weekly. On 9/11, Torres was in her third trimester of pregnancy, and her husband had just started working in the Twin Towers the day before. This comic-book memoir tells of her relationship with her husband, Eddie, his death on 9/11 and its aftermath. It touches occasionally on the nation and world at large, but focuses mostly on Torres story, which bring the event into painful, individual detail. Most moving to me was the shift from the outpouring of goodwill and rage, to the backlash and pulling away of both friends and institutions. The black, white and blue illustrations by Sungyoon Choi are simple yet evocative. They’re a good complement for Torres’ text, which I appreciated for its honesty, ambivalence, and ultimately, its hope.

Frank Portman, author of Andromeda Klein (which I reviewed here) in an interview at Gothamist:

I just found out today that one of my school visits here (in Portland) was canceled because of parental worries about the occult elements in Andromeda Klein. It’s the first time I’ve ever been banned, and they’re worried about the occult.

I knew as I read Andromeda Klein that the centrality of the occult tradition to the book and its importance to the main character would be a problem for a lot of parents. Andromeda reads tarot cards, studies mysticism, tattoos herself with symbols, and performs rituals for privacy and other things. Andromeda’s interest and knowledge of the occult are thorough, and the depiction is presented realistically; some of the rituals produce results, and Andromeda has conversations in her head and in her dreams that are too relevant to be random. I’m not surprised this has ruffled some parental feathers. On the surface, at least, it comes across as pretty subversive.

I’d argue otherwise, though. Andromeda is an outsider–a skinny, clumsy girl with bad hair and worse hearing. It’s natural she’d gravitate to something off the beaten track, and something she could immerse herself in the study and practice of while on her own. While there are mentions of demons and Satan in the book, these are details of the historical tradition. Andromeda doesn’t worship or pursue demons or Satan. Instead, she uses the occult tradition to try to figure out and make sense of the world, especially because her outcast status means it’s senseless and cruel a lot of the time: she’s trying to come to terms with a friend’s death and an ex-boyfriend, while trying to deal with a crazy friend, a boy who admires her occult acumen, a clueless depressed dad and an intrusive insensitive mom. For Andromeda, the occult is a tradition of knowledge and ritual. She studies and practices to learn and grow. Other kids do the same with more mainstream things, like religion, sports, or academia. If Andromeda were interested in one of those, I doubt the book would set off any alarms.

I’m likely preaching to the converted and singing to the choir, here, but just in case: Andromeda’s interest in the occult might put off some readers, but I’d encourage them to actually READ the book, and consider how the occult tradition, as it’s practiced and studied by Andromeda, compares and contrasts to other traditions. Andromeda tattoos herself? I saw more than one teen swim teacher at the pool this summer sporting a Christian tattoo. Andromeda burns incense and asks questions, then “hears” advice in her head or in her dreams. Religious practitioners call this prayer and meditation. Andromeda reads a variety of books, many of which she disagrees with and all of which she tries to learn from. All traditions have some sort of sanctioned and recommended reading, as well as heretical texts that can help one “know thine enemy.”

Andromeda Klein is an interesting, thoughtful book with a wonderful, complex main character. It would be a shame if it were banned and people missed it based on prejudice. Tolerance of difference is a theme of the book, but it can also be applied TO the book.

We’ve had cooler autumn temperatures this week, so 3.5yo Guppy wore jeans to preschool. The combination of long pants, sneakers with socks, and the ball cap made him look very big-boyish. Several people wondered if he’d gotten taller.

The next day when he picked out his own outfit–plaid madras shorts and a clashing-colored striped shirt–he looked again like his 3yo self.

I’m in the midst of some vegetable anxiety. I still have nearly a full bin from last week (cabbage, scallions, onion, beet w/greens, carrots, lettuce, cuke) and just got the new box from our share at the farm: carrots, eggplant, onions, potatoes, squash, leeks, melon, tomatoes, basil. I will say again: buying a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) share seemed like a good idea at the time, but it’s a lot of work to keep up with even our half share, especially since the kids often won’t eat what I make. (They DO love the farm’s carrots, though, as do I.)

Here were a couple things from last week, mostly from the CSA box (not the figs).

Here, Roasted Potato Slices with Lime and Chili. I’ve posted the recipe before, but not with a photo. I managed to snap this before it was devoured.

Not so the Roasted Cauliflower and Broccoli Popcorn, which had a really lovely green and white contrast. Until it disappeared.

Our grocery coop had some lovely looking figs,

so I made fig jam from Super Natural Cooking again, served here with Bent River a camembert-esque cheese made by the Alemar Cheese Company, on slices of Rustica Bakery baguette.

Alas, I decided to experiment and added a whole teaspoon of cardamom (I’m on something of a cardamom kick) which turned the whole batch bitter. I’m not sure whether to add more figs, more honey or both. Here is the base recipe, which I made before with very good results.

Fig Spread with Black Pepper and Toasted Sesame Seeds from Super Natural Cooking by Heidi Swanson

1 1/2 lb. ripe fresh Black Mission figs, stemmed and cut into 1/2″ dice
1/4 c. freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/3 c. honey
1/4 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
1/4 c. toasted unhulled sesame seeds

Toss chopped figs and lemon juice together in a large bowl. Stir in the honey and black pepper and set aside for 10 minutes. The figs will start to break down and get soupy. Pour the fig mixture in to a large, heavy pot over medium heat and bring to a slow, gurgling boil. Cook, stirring constantly, until the figs start to reduce and thicken, about 10 minutes. Stir in the sesame seeds and remove from the heat. Let the spread sit for 5 minutes, taste, and add more pepper to taste if needed.

This spread may be canned as you would other jams, but it keeps well for up to a week in the refrigerator. Makes 3 cups.

And my friend A. corralled my friend The Hoff and me to make soup for twenty for a Kevin Reich for Ward 1 fundraiser. We made a quadruple batch of squash stew based on a recipe from Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone.

There were many compliments, and they sounded sincere, so I think the soup was a success. I’ve made it before, and would definitely make it again.

Thai Tofu and Autumn Squash Soup, adapted from a recipe in Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone

2 medium leeks, white parts only, cleaned, halved lengthwise and cut into 1/4″ slices
2 Tbl. peanut oil
2 garlic cloves, pressed
2 serrano chiles, minced
1 Tbl. finely grated ginger
1 Tbl. curry powder
1 tsp. light brown sugar
3 Tbl. wheat-free tamari
32 oz. mushroom broth
1 15 oz. can unsweetened coconut milk
1 1/2 lbs autumn squash (we used a mix of butternut and delicata) peeled and cut into 1/2 to 1 inch cubes
Salt
1 10-oz. pkg. silken firm tofu cut into 1/2″ cubes
Juice of one lime
1/4 c. chopped cilantro
1/3 c. chopped peanuts

Heat peanut oil in wide soup pot. Add leeks and cook over medium-high heat, stirring frequently, until partially softened, about 3 minutes. Add garlic, most of chiles, and ginger; cook 1 minute more, then add curry, sugar and soy sauce. Reduce heat to medium, scrape pan, and cook for a few more minutes. Add broth, coconut milk, squash, and 1 tsp. salt. Bring to boil, then lower heat and simmer, covered, for 15 to 20 minutes. Remove from heat Puree some or all of soup, in blender or with immersion blender. Taste for salt, add tofu, lime juice and cilantro.

Fry peanuts in a little peanut oil over medium heat in a small skillet, then chop. Serve stew over basmati or jasmine rice, garnished with peanuts and remaining chili.

This is a vegan, gluten-free soup. Plain yogurt with a little cardamom would make a nice garnish and you can try pepitas instead of peanuts. Serves 4.

From Jennifer Johnson is Sick of Being Single by Heather McElhatton:

Don’t think about the impending roundup meeting or my mother or my sister’s wedding or any of the things I was going to do and then I didn’t. Don’t think about the last ten years, which have collapsed in a lightning split-second, and even though I’m not sure what I was doing for ten years, we can be sure I wasn’t getting married or having kids or buying a house, or working on getting out of Minnesota.

We can be sure of that…

I keep thinking it’s not too late; I can still turn everything around. I could meet a guy any days now who would sweep me off my feet, and he would happen to be a millionaire just like Jane Austen planned for all us cheeky, uppity modern girls.

Jennifer is an everywoman: thirty something with a snide boss, a cubicle job writing copy for a Minneapolis department store, a Cinnabon obsession, and smarts she doesn’t quite know what to do with. Online dating is a nightmare, and she doesn’t have a date for her sister’s wedding. She’s Bridget Jones in Minnesota.

Then Jennifer meets someone, and he asks her out. He’s handsome and from a wealthy family. But as they date, her “gay bee” friend Christopher in the Visual department doesn’t like him, and her co-worker Ted is suddenly cold to her.

As I read this book, I thought I knew what was going on and where it was headed. I was puzzled by how unlikable Jennifer often was, but appreciated her sense of humor, her sharp observations, and wanted to see what happened to her. When I finally did, though, I was shocked. McElhatton utterly surprised me. Initially, I thought she was crazy. As the ending and the book melded together, though, I saw the method to the ostensible madness.

Jennifer Johnson, both the book and the character, show what we think we want, and what happens when we try to get it, and IF we get it. But there are no easy answers here, and I shouldn’t have expected any. I read and enjoyed McElhatton’s tart and clever Pretty Little Mistakes: a Do-Over Novel in 2007. What I enjoyed most about it were the unexpected twists and turns of karmic irony that seemed as much to do with fate than free will. Jennifer and her story would fit right into one of the “what happens next” scenarios from that book.

This book looks like chick lit, and much of it reads like that. Lurking beneath the surface and eventually rearing its head, though, is a complex, dark streak that takes this book another place entirely. This is not a sunny beach read, as I thought it would be. It’s something much more interesting and cool. Bravo.

Sandal season is mostly over, but for those remaining warm days, I wanted one last pedicure. Funds are short, so I knew this would be a DIY endeavor using materials on hand. You can modify this for time considerations by leaving out steps, but this list will provide a comprehensive at-home pedi. (Adapted from this article by Shandley McMurray at Kaboose.

1. Remove polish. Use acetone remover for faster results, and use cotton balls, not tissue for better absorbency.

2. Soak. I added kosher salt to warm water along with a few drops of tea tree and lavender essential oils and soaked for five minutes. I’ve also used milk beyond its expiration date with cinnamon and nutmeg with good results. Rinse and pat dry.

3. Buff. Use a pumice stone or stick, like the Diamancel Food Callus Rasp, on heels and other rough spots.

4. Exfoliate. Rub a mix of oil and salt or sugar. You can use olive oil, massage or body oil mixed with brown sugar or kosher salt. Rub upward toward the heart for a few minutes, then rinse and pat dry.

5. Trim nails. Use a clipper or scissors to cut straight across.

6. Moisturize. Use a thick cream.

7. Soften. Use cuticle treatment, like Dr. Hauschka’s Neem Nail Oil (the bottle, NOT the pen), or Burt’s Bees Lemon Butter Cuticle Cream. The oil for exfoliating also works. Rub gently into cuticles.

8. Push. With a washcloth or soft stick, GENTLY push the cuticles back to make room for polish.

9. Remove again. Sweep a cotton ball soaked with polish remover over each nail again, so there’s a clean, non-oily surface for polish to stick to.

10. Polish. Apply a base coat, two coats of polish and a top coat for best results. Be patient, and give each coat a minute or two to dry between layers, then at least fifteen minutes at the end. Seche Vite is widely regarded as the best quick dry top coat. Look for polishes without toluene, formaldehyde and Dibutyl phthalate (DBP), like Sally Hanson Salon Nail Lacquer, OPI nail color, and Zoya, which is vegan-friendly.

My friend E inherited a giant zucchini from a friend. Stressed from a recent move, she re-gifted it to me. I peeled, seeded and shredded it, which filled 6 3-cup containers–about 12 zucchini’s worth, I’d guess. I gave three containers away, then got to work.

First was having another go at the Chocolate Zucchini cake. I remembered the cocoa this time. And since I’d peeled the zucchini, there weren’t any telltale green flecks in the cake; my boys devoured this.

Next was a zucchini saute with fresh corn, tomatoes, onion and jalapeno in a chili-lime sauce. Better in theory than in its soggy reality. Zuke is just too watery to saute.

Finally, I made another go at zucchini bread, adding golden raisins and telling the boys it was raisin spice bread since there were no telltale green flecks. It was much more popular with the kids under its new name.

And that’s the end of that zucchini, and (I hope) zucchini this season.

Elaine Dundy’s Dud Avocado has been on my to-read list since it was re-published in 2007 by the New York Review of Books, and received all sorts of praise in the blogosphere (e.g., Maud Newton.) In his introduction, lit blogger Terry Teachout says,

It is the destiny of some good novels to be perpetually rediscovered, and Elaine Dundy’s The Dud Avocado, I fear, is one of them.

Our heroine is an American in Paris, sometime post-Hemingway. A rich uncle funds her adventure abroad, and she’s trying to get his money’s worth. She has a strong, distinct voice, and a great sense of humor, especially at her own expense.

It was around eleven in the morning, I remember, and I was drifting down the boulevard St. Michel, thought rising in my head like little puffs of smoke, when suddenly a voice bellowed into my ear: “Sally Jay Gorce! What the hell?”…

“Why pink?” he asked, studying my new coiffure carefully. “Why not green?”

As a matter of fact I’d had my hair dyed a marvelous shade of pale red so popular with Parisian tarts that season. It was the first direct remark he made about the New Me and it was hardly encouraging.

Slowly his eyes left my hair and traveled downwards. This time he really took in my outfit and then that Look that I’m always encountering; that special one composed in equal parts of amusement, astonishment and horror came over his face.

I am not a moron and I can generally guess what causes this look. The trouble is, it’s always something different.

I squirmed uncomfortably, feeling his eyes bearing down on my bare shoulders and breasts.

“What the hell are you doing in the middle of the morning with an evening dress on?” he asked me finally.

Sally Jay tries to disentangle herself from her Euro lover and entangle herself with an old friend. The book details the dubious results, and becomes utterly engrossing toward the end. Surprising revelations occur, not least of which are the ones Sally Jay has about herself.

This is an odd, funny book with engaging twists at the end and a weird, lovable main character. It’s a little Movable Feast-y, Great Gatsby-ish, and Breakfast at Tiffany’s-esque. I’m glad it’s back in print, and glad to have read it, finally.

The veg box from our farm share this week had all the colors of the rainbow, save blue*.

I used the salad mix with a fresh tomato, garnished with chopped bacon, with blue cheese dressing made with Big Wood’s Blue from Shepherd’s Way Farm–adding blue to the week’s rainbow!

Blue Cheese Dressing, from Cook’s Country, Serves 6

If buttermilk is not available, use milk to create a somewhat lighter dressing.

3/4 cup crumbled blue cheese
5 tablespoons buttermilk
5 tablespoons sour cream
3 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
1/4 teaspoon sugar
1/8 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon table salt
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

Using fork, mash blue cheese and buttermilk together in small bowl until mixture resembles cottage cheese. Stir in sour cream, mayonnaise, vinegar, sugar, garlic powder, salt, and pepper.

I made caprese pasta again, with the onion and other tomato, and served it over spinach as a warm salad.

Carrots and melon went into Drake’s lunch. And he ate them!

For the remaining spinach, I unearthed this recipe:

Wilted Spinach Salad with Miso Dressing, adapted from one by Ron Barron

2 slices whole wheat bread, buttered and toasted
1 medium garlic clove, sliced in half

1/2 Tbl. balsamic vinegar
1/2 Tbl. white miso
reserved garlic clove

1 bunch spinach, stemmed
1/4 c. kalamata olives

2-3 Tbl. olive oil

Rub cut side of garlic over buttered side of each piece of toast. Mince or press garlic and reserve. Cut toast into half-inch square croutons.

In large bowl, whisk together vinegar, miso and garlic. Top with spinach and olives.

Heat olive oil in small saucepan till shimmering (not smoking). Pour over salad. Toss to coat and wilt. Add croutons and toss again. Serve.

And the Veggie Slaw turned into a vehicle for almost all the remaining veg:

Veggie Slaw, starring broccoli, adapted from the Broccoli Slaw at Smitten Kitchen

Makes about six cups of slaw

1 heads of broccoli, trimmed
1 bunch celery, trimmed
2 or 3 carrots, peels and chopped
1/2 cup roasted peanuts
1/3 cup dried golden raisins
3 scallions, finely chopped

Buttermilk Dressing
1/2 cup buttermilk, well-shaken (or mix 1/2 c. whole milk and 1/2 Tbl. vinegar or lemon juice; let sit for 5 min.)
1/3 cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
1 tablespoon sugar
2 scallions finely chopped

Optional: 2 slices bacon

Cut broccoli, celery and carrots into large chunks, then chop into smaller ones, or use a mandoline or food processor. Stems of broccoli are OK, even good.

Toss the sliced veggies with the peanuts, raisins and chopped scallions in a large bowl. Meanwhile, whisk the dressing ingredients in a smaller one, with a good pinch of salt and black pepper. Pour the dressing over the veggies and toss well.

For optional bacon: fry in pan until brown, drain well on paper towels, then chop.

Season well with salt and pepper to taste. Garnish with chopped bacon.

Adaptations: substitute difference crisp veggies, like cauliflower, kohlrabi or turnip. Use different nuts or dried fruit. Use different onions like red, sweet or shallots.

*On an episode of Top Chef, Tom Colicchio claimed, in a voice of authority, that there were no blue foods. I suspect he maintains that all foods we think are blue are actually green or indigo. I can’t find anything to support his claim, but many to refute it: blue cheese, blue potatoes, blueberries, blue grapes, blue plums, and chokecherries, and blue-colored herbs, including borage, hyssop, rosemary, sage.

Interestingly, because blue foods are rare, the color blue is an appetite suppressant.

World Gone Beautiful by Linda Buturian was this month’s pick for my book group. I was glad to read and support a local writer, but I was even more interested to learn about Buturian’s unique living situation that she and a group of friends and family have created on the Rum River near the small towns of Princeton and Milaca Minnesota:

A commune, a planned neighborhood, an intentional cul-de-sac, the compound. What are we? For eight years now, four families have lived next to each other on a piece of land in rural Minnesota…We are middle-aged friends who bought land together and are living and raising our kids alongside each other. It continues to make good sense. (120)

Through a series of linked, deliberately non-chronological essays, Buturian uses words to sketch impressions of her life in the deliberate community she and her friends created in 1996. It’s a history, a journal of sorts, and an ongoing meditation on the questions of “what have we done/what are we doing?”

The idea came first. Linda and her friend Debbie talked about buying land and living as neighbors when they were theology students in Oregon. Then came the land in Minnesota, the building and renovations, the animals and the children.

This is not a how-to manual, or even necessarily an encouragement to do what they have done. Buturian is refreshingly honest about the ambivalence she often feels, and how the joys and rewards are sometimes fleeting compared to the irritation and hard work of the life they’ve created. Like Anne LaMott, an author she mentions in the book, Buturian has a wry and self-deprecating sense of humor that keeps her observations afloat above depression or self-involvement. She interweaves stories of parenting, relationships, and religion as LaMott has done, with ecology and sociology thrown in for good measure.

This is a thoughtful, provocative book, especially for those who’ve wondered about moving off the grid, or at least away from a city for more land and greater peace. Buturian makes it clear their “cul-de-sac” is no utopia, but it certainly has its idyllic moments, which I found delightful to read about and ponder.

I found Entertainment Weekly’s 2009 Fall TV preview disappointing. What used to be a week-long analysis of what to see and what to skip was over after a quick perusal.

New shows I’ll be adding: Glee and Community.

Continuing and returning shows: Mad Men, House (ahem, a proper medical caduceus only has one snake. Two snakes is Mercury, and marketing), How I Met Your Mother, Top Chef, Project Runway, 30 Rock, Office, Parks & Rec (for now), and Dollhouse (for now).

I find myself a little embarrassed about how excited I am about the new season of Fetch with Ruff Ruffman, a PBS show I actually like to watch with my kids.

From Rustic Fruit Desserts by Cory Schreiber and Julie Richardson, recommended by my friend Duff. This dessert can be made in individual ramekins, or a 10″ skillet, which I used. It can be made with any small stone fruit, such as apricot, plum or pluot. I chose a local variety of plum, though mine were too ripe. Look for ones that DON’T resemble water balloons, the authors of this book say. This is the second dessert I’ve made from this book and both were very good. The recipes are well-written, as you’ll see below, and the baking is non-fussy–no need to remove skins!

Stone Fruit Upside-Down Cornmeal Cake
Baking time 30 min. for ind. cakes, 45 to 50 min. for 10″ skillet. Serves 8.

Fruit Topping

4 small stone fruits such as apricots, plums or pluots
1/4 c. (2 oz.) unsalted butter, melted
1/2 c. packed (3 3/4 oz) brown sugar

Preheat oven to 350F. Score the skin of the fruits with a few strokes of a knife, then slice them in half and remove the pits.

To prepare the fruit topping for individual cakes, distribute the melted butter among eight 5-oz. ramekins, brushing the butter up onto the sides of the ramekins. Sprinkle 1 Tbl. of the brown sugar in each ramekin, then place half of a stone fruit on top of the sugar, cut side down. Place ramekins on a baking sheet.

Alternatively, to prepare the fruit topping for a single large cake, melt the butter in a 10″ cast-iron skillet set over medium heat. Add the brown sugar and stir until the sugar dissolves and blends with butter to form a caramel. Remove from the heat and arrange the fruit halves on top of the caramel, cut side down.

Cake

1 1/4 c. (6 1/4 oz.) all purpose flour
3/4 c. (3 3/4 oz.) fine cornmeal
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. fine sea salt
1/2 c. (4 oz) unsalted butter, at room temp.
2/3 c. (4 1/2 oz.) granulated sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp. pure vanilla extract
3/4 c. buttermilk

To make the cake, whisk the flour, cornmeal, baking powder, baking soda and salt together in a bowl. Using a handheld mixer with beaters or a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and sugar together on medium-high speed for 3 to 5 minutes, until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time scraping down the sides of the bowl after each addition, then stir in the vanilla. Stir in the flour mixture in three additions alternating with the buttermilk in two additions, beginning and ending with the dry ingredients and scraping down the sides of the bowl occasionally.

Distribute the batter evenly among the ramekins (about 1/4 c. per cake) on top of the fruit, or transfer all of the batter to the skillet and gently spread it evenly over the fruit. Bake in the middle of the oven for about 30 min for ind. cakes or 45 min. for the skillet, or until the center of the cake springs back lightly when touched.

Allow the ind. cakes to cool for 5 min. before inverting onto plates; the large cake will need 20 minutes to cool before you flip it over.

Storage: This cake is best if eaten the day it is made, but any leftovers can be covered with plastic wrap and enjoyed the following morning for breakfast.

Here’s a colorful dinner from last week.

Green salad with sliced raw turnip, chopped raw broccoli, and green goddess dressing, which is such a good recipe I’m going to post it again:

Green Goddess Dressing, from Cook’s Country

Makes 1 1/4 cups—enough for 6 wedges of lettuce

To appreciate the full flavor of this rich dressing, drizzle it over chilled wedges of mild iceberg lettuce or leaves of romaine lettuce. A blender yields a brighter, slightly more flavorful dressing, but a food processor will work, too.

2 teaspoons dried tarragon
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon water
3/4 cup mayonnaise
1/4 cup sour cream
1/4 cup roughly chopped fresh parsley
1 medium clove garlic , chopped
1 anchovy fillet , rinsed and dried
1/4 cup chopped chives

1. Combine tarragon, lemon juice, and water in small bowl and let sit for 15 minutes.

2. Blend tarragon mixture, mayonnaise, sour cream, parsley, garlic, and anchovy in blender until smooth, scraping down sides as necessary. Transfer to medium bowl, stir in chives, and season with salt and pepper. Chill until flavors meld, about 1 hour. (Dressing can be covered and refrigerated for up to 1 day.)

Yellow- and blue-corn nachos with WI cheese and canned black beans that I sauteed with tomatoes, jalapeno, corn and onion from last week’s CSA farm share box, garnished with sour cream and K8’s homemade salsa.

Today was 3yo Guppy’s first day of preschool. It was a “soft” opening, for only 90 minutes and with a parent. Tomorrow is the full 2:45 length and they say goodbye to parents, so I’ll see how that goes.

Earlier at 11 CST, I turned on CNN to watch President Obama’s speech to students. Guppy protested. “Turn this off!” he hollered.

“It’s about school,” I replied. “You start school today.”

“No!” Guppy said. “He (the president) said KINDERGARTEN! Not preschool!”

Already with the loopholes. Sheesh.

In an unfortunate bit of timing, I had two miniseries come into the library at once. Both were BBC productions. Wallender has three 90 minute movies and stars Kenneth Branagh. I’s based on the mystery novel series by Swedish writer Henning Mankell. State of Play had six hour-long episodes and was the basis for the US film starring Russell Crowe and Ben Affleck that was released this week on DVD. Try as we might, we weren’t able to finish 450 minutes of BBC miniseries in a week that also included Mad Men, Project Runway and Top Chef. But with the long weekend, we managed and the library late fees aren’t too bad.

Branagh’s Wallender is a weary Swedish detective whose wife has left him because he was too involved with work. His daughter tries to get him out of his shell, but he’s confronted by such horror in his work that it’s understandably hard for him to heed advice to rest, stay home, relax and see other people. In “Sidetracked,” Wallender tries to help a scared young woman who then burns herself alive before his eyes. In “Firewall” a young girl commits a grisly murder, seemingly at random, while an apparently healthy man drops dead. And in “One Step Behind” he is so plagued by lack of sleep he doesn’t listen to a colleague who desperately needs his help.

Both “Sidetracked” and “Firewall” were good, if not great. The moody acting and the Swedish scenery are impressive, the mysteries less so. Branagh is utterly engaging as the harrowed and talented detective. “One Step Behind,” though, is a dud. Not only does it have Wallender acting stupid and insensitive because of lack of sleep, it has a horrible cliche of a villain–a jealous, vindictive, murderous transvestite. It’s a nasty sexist portrayal that further brings down this already weak entry in the series. I recommend the other two episodes, though, and will seek this series out if it comes back to PBS. The strengths outweigh the problems.

State of Play also had a serious flaw for me. The first five hours of it were absolutely riveting. David Morrissey shines especially, as the English Parliament member whose affair with an aide is exposed after she dies in an apparent accident. Polly Walker as his estranged wife also does great work. Their reporter friend, Cal McCaffrey, is trying to help them while also unravel the mystery that gets more complex with each episode and unfolds into a brain-twisting mass of government and big-business conspiracy and espionage. The ending of the final hour, though, undoes much of what was good about the episodes that went before. It may be an attempt at a surprise ending. The problem with these, though, is that they tend to negate all that went before. This audience member was left feeling cheated. This was fun to watch, and well done until the last episode. The US movie was not well reviewed, and I can’t imagine how they must have dumbed it down to fit into 2 hours. I recommend this miniseries, but with reservations about the ending.

In light of these, I’m reminded of a few film and literature cliches that need to be retired, including the evil transvestite and the surprise twist ending. I’d add to those the mystical person of color, who teaches an ignorant white person the deeper meaning of life, and the sacrificial mentally retarded character, whose death teaches others tolerance. Enough, already. Quit with the gimmicks, especially those that perpetuate stereotypes about those with already challenging lives.

I barely knew it existed–I’d seen a blurb about it the week before–when C at Big Brain pressed it into my hands. It was Andromeda Klein by Frank Portman, the author of King Dork, which I liked exceedingly a few years back.

Andromeda the book, and Andromeda the main character, are similar to King Dork’s. She’s an outsider with few friends. Those she has aren’t always reliable. Someone close to her has died, and she has difficulty dealing with her parents.

Now that I type that, I realize how many teens that can describe.

Andromeda is a self-taught occult and tarot expert. I’ll offer fair warning here: those uncomfortable with details of the occult and magick with a “k” are not going to like this book and probably shouldn’t read it. I was surprised by how much, and how deep, the details of Andromeda’s occult practices and knowledge went. There are passages about demons, conjuring, body modification, ghosts, and spirit-world communication.

That said, I found this a fascinating book. Portman presents Andromeda’s studies in a fair, informative way. It’s not devil worship, or (intentional) demon conjuring. Rather, it’s an ancient and varied tradition that seeks knowledge and understanding of the self and the universe–rather like religion. If you feel there’s more than one path up the mountain, and are interested in tarot as well as a good young adult mystery novel, I think you’ll really enjoy Andromeda Klein, the book and the character.

Anyone observing Andromeda Klein from a distance at that moment would simply have seen a slender teenage girl on a bicycle splashing through puddles; any who happened to glimpse the face looking out of the black zip sweatshirt’s hood might have noted a tense, rather worried expression. But anyone reading her mind would no doubt have been taken aback by the confused riot of arcane images to be found within. A limitless host of glyphs, sigils, images, and mathematical processes unfolded from the Two of Swords…

Life is complicated enough because Andromeda has something called “disorganized collagen”. It makes her body and especially her hearing out of whack. (It does, though, make for an entertaining lexicon of misheard phrases, such as bacon for pagan, vacuum for bathroom, and spinach U-turn for Finnish Lutheran.) Further, her friend and occult “sister” Daisy recently passed away, and her friend Rosalie is a bundle of bad news: steals a car that can only be driven in reverse, schedules drinking parties for her friends when parents are away, and tries to set up Andromeda with weird guys. Andromeda’s mother is controlling and intrusive; her father is depressive. And she’s recently broken up with someone she calls “St. Steve” and feels really bad about it.

This book was often sad, but also funny and singular. Andromeda has a strong, unique and humorous character voice. It’s easy to feel for Andromeda, and hope things turn out well for her. There’s no neat and tidy happy ending, but there’s a satisfyingly complex one that gives a lot of credit to its readers by leaving some things to the imagination. I was completely involved in this book till I put it down; it’s an involving and engaging character and story.

For more, Andromeda has her own theme song, as Portman is a punk rock musician. Largehearted Boy has a set list for the book.

A recipe to use up zucchini and buttermilk which I always buy for a recipe and then end up having to throw out unless I work to use it up. Cook’s Country says it can be frozen in 1 Tbl. amounts for up to a month, so I may try that.

You may notice that my cake doesn’t look chocolate, but rather chocolate chip. I forgot the cocoa, so it came out more like chocolate chip bars. Unlike my zucchini bread, my boys, 6 and 3.5yo, ate and liked it, even with visible zucchini.

Chocolate Zucchini Cake from Cook’s Country, Serves 16

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup Dutch-processed cocoa powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter , softened
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 3/4 cup sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup buttermilk
2 medium zucchini , seeded and shredded
3/4 cup semisweet chocolate chips

1. Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 325 degrees. Grease 13- by 9-inch baking pan. Combine flour, cocoa, baking soda, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, and cloves in bowl. With electric mixer on medium speed, beat butter, oil, and sugar until smooth. Add eggs, vanilla, and buttermilk and mix until incorporated. Stir in flour mixture until combined. Stir in zucchini, then pour mixture into prepared pan.

2. Top batter with chocolate chips and bake until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean, about 45 minutes. Cool on wire rack. Serve.