Julie and Julia - Reread

Reorganizing the bookshelves, as one is wont to do in times of crisis, I came across Julie and Julia. It's just the thing for vicarious cooking (and cleaning up), especially when the stores are still out of flour. Haven't checked on the whole marrow bone thing.

The following is a repost from 2009.

“Sometimes I just made stuff up.” Despite the disclaimer on page one, Julie Powell serves up a humorous account of her attempt to follow all the recipes in Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child. Faced with conception complications at home and the endless files to be copied at work, she began the cooking project (and blog documenting the project) in August of 2002. Interspersed throughout the book version are imaginary scenes between Julia and Paul Child. I skimmed these for the most part to get back to the meatier narrative.

Powell recounts her successes – skinning a duck and flipping a flawless crepe - but more entertaining are her mess ups – one memorable description likens her homemade ladyfingers to “so many sunk mastodons” in a “tar pit” of caramelized sugar. She also relates how she connected with her blog readers with proficient swearing and as ifs which resulted in donations of funds and jars of her favorite salsa. You might recoil with her in the discovery of a maggot colony under the drainer, but you’ll marvel at her chutzpah at leaving an offering of butter at the Julia Child exhibit at the Smithsonian.

 If you missed the blog, then read the book. If you missed the book, there’s always the Nora Ephron movie.

The book by Julie Powell is called Julie and Julia: 365 days, 524 recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen: How One Girl Risked Her Marriage, Her Job, and Her Sanity to Master the Art of Living.

Giving Thanks for Vegetarian Cookbooks

Since we've lived in Washington, Thanksgiving has been a meal for four. I'm still vegetarian, but I'm outnumbered three to one. This year I'm looking forward to perusing the recipes of Half Baked Harvest - a cookbook I eventually hope add to my collection - for a dish that will appeal to the pickiest among us.

This week's post harkens back to something I originally posted in November of 2008.

As Thanksgiving approaches my husband and I are faced once again with the vegetarian’s dilemma of what dish to bring to the family feast. We strive to make something that contains protein, serves more than four people, and is not too odd as to freak out the carnivores (we’re probably not going to show up with Curried Tofu Scramble). Since we’ll be traveling this year, the dish or ingredients should also be portable or simple enough to make in someone else’s kitchen. I’ve perused three vegetarian cookbooks worthy of meeting the challenge.

Moosewood Restaurant Celebrates by The Moosewood Collective

I have to add this book to my collection. It has both vegetarian and vegan menu ideas for Thanksgiving. It also contains the most recipes that appeal to traditional palates. Contenders include: Lentil Salad, Harvest Stuffed Squash, Mushroom Filo Pastries, Crisp Autumn Salad, Roasted Squash with Corn and Beans, and Gingered Carrots with Hijiki (this one probably won’t make the cut since hijiki - Japanese seaweed - has high freak-out potential).

Super Natural Cooking by Heidi Swanson

I also borrowed this one from the library, but it’s on my wish list for the pomegranate reds, grainy golden yellows, and spinach greens that pop out from the photographs accompanying the recipes. Even more impressive is these photos were taken by the cookbook’s author. Although these dishes probably wouldn’t meet any of our criteria, I’ve bookmarked the Risotto Style Barley, Otsu (a soba and tofu dish), and Hijiki and Edamame Salad. Ok, so I like hijiki.

Three Bowl Cookbook by David Scott and Tom Pappas

My Buddhist priest friend sent me this book after I returned from Japan. I received it just in time for that year’s Thanksgiving, so I made the Rutabaga, Leek, and Sweet Potato Puree. Once I procured the ingredients (I had to have the Whole Foods produce guy show me where to find both the rutabagas and leeks), I had little trouble making this tasty alternative to traditional milk and butter mashed potatoes. Other recipes I’m considering: Carrot and Parsnip Puree with Fresh Tarragon and Green Beans with Ginger, Corn, and Miso.

There’s a Chef in My Family

Since we no longer live within driving distance of a family Thanksgiving gathering, we’ve had to develop some new traditions for a lunch for four.  

Last summer when my sister visited, she guided my son through the steps of the pastry dough recipe from his new cookbook Baking with Mary Berry.  So for Thanksgiving he decided to make pumpkin tarts on his own.  He made the dough, mixed the filling, and put them in the oven to bake. When they had cooled, he decided to sample one. It was then he realized there’s a difference in a ¼ teaspoon of salt (which the recipe calls for) and the 4 tablespoons of salt he had added. Scratch the tarts.

Undeterred, he went on to make Never-Enough Dinner Rolls from the children's cookbook There’s a Chef in My Family! by Emeril Lagasse. Although he did have to start over once on the rolls – mistaking the ingredients list for the directions and just throwing everything into a bowl – they turned out quite scrummy.  And, true to their name, there wasn't enough. 

Meanwhile, my daughter made Martha’s sweet potato casserole recipe, a fruit salad, and supervised the table setting. With my husband in charge of the slow cooker turkey, I just had to roast some Brussels sprouts and open the wine. 

And for that, I am truly thankful.

Study Break

While I’ve had a month off from writing this blog, I haven’t been slacking off on my reading. From microagressions and power to virtues and race, I’ve been trying to assimilate a variety of provocative thinkers and ideas. Having finally selected my ethics project topic and written three of the four papers I need to finish the quarter, I decided to pick up Sourdough by Robin Sloan for a tiny study break. 

There went my afternoon.

But at least I was able to check off the challenge for a one-sitting book.

When Lois Clary lands her dream job as a software engineer in San Francisco, she never expected to be so lonely or exhausted. A phone call to Clement Street Soup and Sourdough introduces her to two brothers who end up providing not just nightly nourishment, but a new vocation. When the brothers are deported, they leave Lois a magical sourdough starter. Soon her bread baking turns from hobby to venture. Her draining days in front of a screen are replaced by the sensory explosion of mornings spent baking at a new underground food market.  

Reading this book reminded me of the first bread book I bought in college. For a semester or so I actually did bake bread every week. However I was never so ambitious as to try a sourdough starter. Now that my kids are interested in baking maybe we can make that our summer project. After I finish all my assigned reading. 

Comfort Reads

In the tongue-in-cheek tradition of shows like this, comes this series brought to us by PBS. Except, delightfully, it’s not a mockumentary. Amateur bakers ranging in age from 17 to retiree meet in a tent each weekend for a bake-off showcasing a different skill.  Although the baked goods look scrumptious, it’s the contestants’ asides, facial expressions, and repartee with the hostesses and judges that will keep you watching.

To bide my time waiting for Season Two to be made available somewhere on the Internet, I’ve discovered the Hannah Swensen murder mystery series by Joanne Fluke. Hannah owns a bakery in Lake Eden, Minnesota. However, in between baking the next day’s batch of cookies or catering her mother’s Regency Romance club, she has a nasty habit of stumbling upon dead bodies.

Comfort food for the serial reader, this series is predictable in plot (find a body, eat chocolate, go behind boyfriend detective’s back to interview suspects, make a cake, get trapped in a small space with the killer, eat more chocolate).  Swensen’s obsession with new recipes (helpfully printed at the end of each chapter) and dilemma of which suitor to marry - detective or dentist - is quaintly old-fashioned, in our age of Pinterest and Match.com. Also, comforting, once you’re hooked, is knowing that there are 17 or 18 more to read.

And recipes involving double or triple chocolate to try.

A Homemade Life

The library finally had a copy of Molly Wizenberg's A Homemade Life. I've only begun the introduction, but I'm already as charmed as I was by her blog.

Thanks a Lot

What will it be this year? Sunflower Rice Patties? Not-Too-Dirty-Rice? Cocoa Avocado Mousse?

I found these potential Thanksgiving (ahem) delicacies in the following new (to me) vegetarian cookbooks.

Get It Ripe by Jae Steele
I don’t mind the occasional “chik” on my plate, but the spellings in this vegan cookbook (Creemy Rice Pudding, Chewy Peanut Buttah Cookies) take the cutesy a bit far. I did like Steele’s section on menu ideas which divides the book’s recipes into meal and holiday plans. Although for my next “living foods feast,” I’m thinking I’ll skip dessert (Avocado Mousse). For Thanksgiving, either the Spiced Squash Muffins or The Good Shepherd’s Pie seem like safe bets.

Vegan Soul Kitchen by Bryant Terry
Each recipe in Terry’s book is accompanied by a personal comment or suggestion for improving your cooking game AND ideas for music to dice to. A palatable symphony. I’m not sure how well his “Sweet Thang” recipe for Maple Yam-Ginger Pie would go over at our table, but the Boppin’ John might be worth a try…for New Year’s.

Enemy of the Steak by Nikki and David Goldbeck
The Goldbecks’ latest book introduces the vegetarian recipes with a section called Basic Training. With detailed instructions and cooking times for stewing beans, soaking grains, and grilling vegetables, you can finally use those speckled beans that have been eyeing you from the pantry. I’ll take pity on the carnivores and opt out of the Orange Arame Salad and Rare Root Stew, but perhaps the Maple Pecan Tempeh won’t feel too neglected next to the green bean casserole and that last turkey leg.

Gum Arabic

Grand-maman presides over the table covered in her mother’s tablecloth. Beautiful people lounge in mismatched wooden chairs set on the grass. It’s Sunday and children are in from the city seeking escape from their day jobs in publishing, finance, and children’s clothing design. Carafes of wine, children in spotless white, women in tastefully wrinkled linen. Cheese for dessert.

If you’ve been waiting to recreate such a scene, here’s the manual: A Well Kept Home: Household Traditions and Simple Secrets from a French Grandmother by Laura Fronty and Yves Duronsoy.

In this book, Fronty and Duronsoy have created a tisane of beautiful photographs (straw hats, lily oil), vintage recipes (Colette’s quince water, Dumas’ butter), and practical home keeping advice (returning the shine to glassware, keeping moths away with peppercorns). Sprinkled throughout are Fronty’s reminisces about lemon balm, ivy water used to wash silk, and a time when currants, quince pips, and bergamot oil were household staples.

Although I don’t own a straw hat, my wine glasses, sadly neglected, are cloudy. I took a recipe from this book and am, as I write, hoping the vinegar/egg shell mix works its magic. If it does, I may drag my own mismatched set of wooden chairs out on the lawn, sip a glass of wine, and savor the plate of plum cake at my feet – though I daresay my children won’t be wearing white anytime soon.

Like Butter: Julie and Julia

“Sometimes I just made stuff up.” Despite the disclaimer on page one, Julie Powell serves up a humorous account of her attempt to follow all the recipes in Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child. Faced with conception complications at home and the endless files to be copied at work, she began the cooking project (and blog documenting the project) in August of 2002. Interspersed throughout the book version are imaginary scenes between Julia and Paul Child. I skimmed these for the most part to get back to the meatier narrative.

Powell recounts her successes – skinning a duck and flipping a flawless crepe - but more entertaining are her mess ups – one memorable description likens her homemade ladyfingers to “so many sunk mastodons” in a “tar pit” of caramelized sugar. She also relates how she connected with her blog readers with proficient swearing and as ifs which resulted in donations of funds and jars of her favorite salsa. You might recoil with her in the discovery of a maggot colony under the drainer, but you’ll marvel at her chutzpah at leaving an offering of butter at the Julia Child exhibit at the Smithsonian. If you missed the blog, then read the book. If you miss the book, there’s always the Nora Ephron moviecoming out this summer.

The book by Julie Powell is called Julie and Julia: 365 days, 524 recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen: How One Girl Risked Her Marriage, Her Job, and Her Sanity to Master the Art of Living.

Giving Thanks for Vegetarian Cookbooks

As Thanksgiving approaches my husband and I are faced once again with the vegetarian’s dilemma of what dish to bring to the family feast. We strive to make something that contains protein, serves more than four people, and is not too odd as to freak out the carnivores (we’re probably not going to show up with Curried Tofu Scramble). Since we’ll be traveling this year, the dish or ingredients should also be portable or simple enough to make in someone else’s kitchen. I’ve perused three vegetarian cookbooks worthy of meeting the challenge.

Moosewood Restaurant Celebrates by The Moosewood Collective
I have to add this book to my collection. It has both vegetarian and vegan menu ideas for Thanksgiving. It also contains the most recipes that appeal to traditional palates. Contenders include: Lentil Salad, Harvest Stuffed Squash, Mushroom Filo Pastries, Crisp Autumn Salad, Roasted Squash with Corn and Beans, and Gingered Carrots with Hijiki (this one probably won’t make the cut since hijiki - Japanese seaweed - has high freak-out potential).

Super Natural Cooking by Heidi Swanson
I also borrowed this one from the library, but it’s on my wish list for the pomegranate reds, grainy golden yellows, and spinach greens that pop out from the photographs accompanying the recipes. Even more impressive is these photos were taken by the cookbook’s author. Although these dishes probably wouldn’t meet any of our criteria, I’ve bookmarked the Risotto Style Barley, Otsu (a soba and tofu dish), and Hijiki and Edamame Salad. Ok, so I like hijiki.

Three Bowl Cookbook by David Scott and Tom Pappas
My Buddhist priest friend sent me this book after I returned from Japan. I received it just in time for that year’s Thanksgiving, so I made the Rutabaga, Leek, and Sweet Potato Puree. Once I procured the ingredients (I had to have the Whole Foods produce guy show me where to find both the rutabagas and leeks), I had little trouble making this tasty alternative to traditional milk and butter mashed potatoes. Other recipes I’m considering: Carrot and Parsnip Puree with Fresh Tarragon and Green Beans with Ginger, Corn, and Miso.