Hee Come Sanny Claus, Hee Come Sanny Claus

I am missing my Elvis Christmas tonight! (Or should I say, "I am missin' me some Elvis Christmas"?) There have been many Christmases in my life, of all different sorts, in all sorts of locations, but the Elvis "Blue Christmas" album has been a constant. My sister and I could sing along with it in both 33 and 45 rpm. I'm thinking about that tonight as Mike and I ice these impromptu sugar cookies.




What about this guy? Rabbit? Sheep? Deer? Moose?


I had a plan early in the week to start a rich beef stew this morning so that by Christmas Eve we'd be curled up on the sofas with our tummies full of cozy comfort food. I bought all the ingredients in advance, and planned not to go to the store again this week. But somehow the day got away from me (including two trips to the store) and we ended up having cheese, wine and bread for dinner, after an aperitif of rum-laced eggnog. Then we got into decorating the cookies and it was too late for anything else. Such is the Christmas eve of the kidless. Still have to finish shtitching (typo or wine?) the letters on Pixie's stocking, since this is her very first Christmas and she almost didn't get one.

I have been thinking a lot about the things that I remember from Christmases past. Skiing, and hot chocolate back at Grandma's house. Mom's gingerbread. Singing the Elvis Christmas songs with my sister. Flannel nightgowns borrowed from Grandma. Heavy woolen quilts on the living room floor. In later years, Mom's clam chowder. Morning bacon, mimosas or bloody marys at Dad's (whatever else you think of them, Southerners do know how to liquor up a holiday). There is much, much more, but my husband is watching television by himself on Christmas Eve, and I just can't continue to let that happen. Maybe more tomorrow.

After the Fact

Here's the golden heart ornament I agonized over a few years ago. And I hope that no one got the impression because I said "damn presents" or something like that, that I resent buying presents. I LOVE buying presents. My only regret is that I can't buy all of the presents, at any price I want, for everyone. I love to give presents at least as much if not more than I like to receive them.

The Junk Drawer of Christmas Past

I did not send any Christmas cards this year. And, unless I said something that simultaneously offended about 15 people (which is totally possible), neither did many of my friends.

But not to worry, because I still have all of your Christmas cards from last year... and probably the year before. And quite possibly many years before that, if I poke around a bit. Until recently, the ones from last year lived in the top right hand drawer of my desk, where all of the "go to" stuff is supposed to be. The high-use, need-it-now stuff, like, oh, I don't know...STAPLES! or a STAPLER! or a pair of sharp SCISSORS! or a MARKING PEN! I'm shouting these things at you because they seem like ACTION THINGS! Things that are ready to spring into service immediately, poised as they are in the ergonomically located top right hand drawer. But my top right hand drawer is not organized thus.

In my top right hand drawer (which I am opening now) you will find the following: patch kit for inflatable bed (if I spring a leak, it will be ready for duty pronto), a "label blaster" punch-style label maker, an out of date rubber address stamp, a two line phone adapter (one of several I own), shoelaces, ribbon, hand lotion, sunscreen (you can never have too much of that), cough drops (who knows how old those are), a printout from West Maui Tiki Tours, a soft cloth for cleaning my computer screen, last year's calendar, Photoshop's "100 Hot Tips for CS3," a picture of Rusty and Jennifer's kids, with Santa, from last year, a stack of all of your Christmas cards, a postcard my mom sent me from York in 2006, before she came back and found out she had to have a quadruple bypass, birth announcement for Juliana Socoloff, my 1984 AYH membership card with serious looking photo (never know when that's going to come in handy), a postcard of a tongue, my poetry journal from 1982 or so, which I dug up to submit to Cringe, but which didn't make the cut, a very big antique marble, many, many binder clips, a baby's first thank you card from Abbie Duff, a bottle of prescription pills that I took one of and never took another of, a hilarious card from Karen Farley from her ex, Richard Gere, and the Tibetan monks, the picture-hanging kit I was looking for this morning to hang the stockings, two old journals, a bag full of beer caps made into magnets, foam helmet liners, a heavy silver cuff watch I used to love but haven't worn since I stopped working in an office (Damn, this is a big drawer!), a cute container of clips and tacks from The Design Group, three glue sticks, a red stamp pad, a bag of miscellaneous IKEA parts and screws, a giraffe keychain (that is very important), and maybe five other things which I have just run out of the energy to catalog.

But this is not about junk drawers, or why we have them, or why my most-accessible drawer is full of the least usable stuff. This is about your Christmas cards. This year, many of them became gift tags for presents. Very handsome ones, at that. I just cut the fronts into squares, punched a hole, then added a slit for the ribbon to slip into. Voila. And I'm contemplating sending out Thank You postcards, cut from the fronts of these old cards, too. But if I tell you, that will spoil your surprise at receiving a cheap, recycled, late Christmas card from me for New Year's. So shhhhhhh.

Last Minute

Just in case you still need a last-minute gift, here are a few ideas: Donate to the Heifer Foundation and help a family in need build self-sufficiency and better health. (A flock of ducks is still just twenty bucks! Not only that, but you can print a card for the honoree right on the site.)

Drop off some unneeded coats today at a One Warm Coat location.

Food banks across the country are running out of food; find one at Feeding America, or make a donation to the bin at the grocery store. Every dollar donated to Feeding America helps buy 20 pounds of food for hungry families. (Whole Foods and Sunshine Market have bins set up here in the valley.)

Drop off toys for Toys for Tots.

Contribute to your local public television or radio station.

Check out charities at Sixdegrees.org, where you can get a "Good Card". You choose the amount, the gift recipient chooses the charity.

Here it Comes Again

Even though intellectually I've committed to paring down this year, as so many of our friends have, it feels just as hectic. Yes, I'll be buying fewer, and less expensive, presents, but I still have to locate the things and wrap them. Smaller presents take just as much time, if not more, to wrap. And price, high or low, does nothing to assuage the guilt of trying to locate presents with meaning, presents that are Special.

Once, when Mike and I were going through a particularly rough patch in our marriage a few years ago, I was zombie-walking through Cost Plus, late at night, just about this time of year, looking for that final, special, meaningful present. I came across a rack of heart-shaped Christmas tree ornaments, painted gold. I picked through them meticulously, until I found one with the right sheen, the right proportions, to carry the weight of the symbolic gesture I was attempting to make.

I stood in a long, long line, the heavy shopping basket making deep reddish indentations in the crook of my arm. As I reached the front of the line and the bleary-eyed cashier began to ring my order, I spotted a flaw in the heart's finish. Just a little nick, in the back. In those few seconds, I agonized over whether to mention it, or to forget about it and just get on with it.

But I couldn't give a flawed heart. It just had to be perfect. So much depended on it. In the time I'd waited, this heart had become laden with all of the meaning and hope that had gathered like a storm cloud over me in the preceding months. So everyone in line waited while I ran back to grab another one, quickly scanning through the hearts I'd previously rejected. I was back before she'd finished ringing the... whatever the hell else I bought that year and gave away, never to be seen or remembered again, so in the scheme of things, I suppose it wasn't a big deal to anyone else.

But it was a huge deal. For me, at that moment, everything depended on the perfection of that golden heart. So many times, this is what it comes down to for me: a present begins to symbolize the entire relationship, and I find myself standing in some store at half-past nine on a weeknight,, my eyes dried to eggshell from all the mall air, holding some aubergine cashmere shawl, or minuscule jeweled penguin, or whatever, in my hand, wondering if this thing will be a thing that the receiver recognizes as truly special. As meaningful as I, at that moment, am feeling that it is. If I walk away from that one perfect, destined to be misunderstood thing, the guilt hits me immediately. I cannot leave these things behind. Which is why I must Christmas shop very quickly, and with a list. If possible, I need to finish early, before the guilt of not finding the perfect, most meaningful present drives me to go out and seek it all over again.

I don't even want to talk about the emotional weight of handmade gifts, whether they are imagined and made imperfectly or imagined and never completed. I'd need to pay you by the hour.

(There would be a picture here of that heart, which I still hold in my hands for a few extra seconds before I put it on the tree each year, but for some reason, every time I click the "add picture" icon, the "save now" button is activated, and I don't get an opportunity to add my picture-- ever.)

This is just another in a long, long string of frustrations starting with satellite internet (hughes sucks), and ending, for the moment, with the discovery of the AT&T data card, which doesn't suck yet unless it is the cause of my not being able to add pictures. The good news is, I am back on line.

*****
If you're not sure what to make for dinner, try lentil soup: dice some mirepoix vegetables (carrot, celery, onion) and saute with thyme. Meanwhile, put a cup or so of lentils, rinsed, in a saucepan and boil in water or stock until tender (about 30 minutes). If you have some on hand and like it, dice up some ham, chicken or turkey and add to the vegetables. Likewise with chard or other greens. I used some beet greens, and added a pinch of oregano, pepper flake and nutmeg. When the lentils are tender, throw in the contents of the saute pan, and then season to taste with sea salt or Better than Bouillon. Cook together for as little as 0 minutes or as much as a day, serve with sourdough or levain bread brushed with garlic butter.

More soon, my friends.

(Anyone else see "Pumpkin Dump Cake" in the google ads at the right? What the hell is that?)

The Pies that Bind

Images from TG at Monty and Emilio's. Pies not pictured. Thanks for the shots, E!

On Thursday morning, after a little bit of a sleep-in, coffee, reading and breakfast, I started my pumpkin pies. Friends of ours host a gorgeous (see above) and mind-blowingly delicious holiday dinner, and this year I was allowed to bring the pumpkin pie, which I very much looked forward to doing. But I would have made the pie anyway.

My mother's pumpkin pie is a Thanksgiving must-have. Mom's pie was one of the few things that I ever remember my grandmother praising about her cooking. Creamy and light, sweet, but not too sweet, with a flaky, savory crust that contrasts with the smooth center. (I took a pumpkin pie made earlier in the week up to my grandparents on Tuesday, only to find that their freezer had been stocked up with homemade apple pies by one of their caregivers. Pie for weeks!)

There have been many things I have gone without from one Thanksgiving to the next, but Mom's pie is never one of them. The secret to her "secret" pie recipe is the very hot water added to the pie filling just before pouring into the crust, which makes the pie light as it steams away during baking.

I thought of my mother as I spun the flour, salt, shortening and butter in the food processor. (Which she always did by hand, but I had six crusts to make.) I thought of her as I rolled out the dough with her rolling pin, one of a handful of things I took with me when I left home. I thought of her especially as I shaped the edges of the pie with my fingers and thumb, about the way her thumbs bend back a little bit more than the average person's, making a little flourish to her gestures and her crusts, and how she always manages to execute a smooth and perfectly fluted pie edge.

Contact with Mom has been sparse lately. She has her hands full with family in Modesto. But the current was running strong between us Thursday morning, whether she knew it or not.

Just before I took the dogs out for their walks mid-day, I checked my email and found a sweet note from my friend Kristin in Eugene, Oregon, letting me know she was thinking of me, too, as her pumpkin pie, made from Mom's "secret" recipe, was baking, filling their house with cinnamon and spice. It made me smile to think of us smelling the same things, sitting in our kitchens, so many miles away.

All of my Thanksgiving recipes can be found at this link. And here are several pie crust variations: Butter Crust, The Very Best Crust, and Mom's Classic Crust. I recommend the classic for pumpkin pie because there is no sugar and it doesn't over-brown. The Very Best is good for everything else. I'll be using that for an apple pie on Sunday with the just-picked Granny Smiths Grandma gave me. The All Butter, minus the sugar, makes a decadent turkey pot pie for the weekend after the holiday. Don't forget the frozen peas.

Love,
Tam

PS- the lack of photos and posts lately has been largely due to the fact that Hughes satellite service has dragged to a creeping, dial-up style halt. If you can avoid Hughes, I recommend that you do so. Their customer service is so pathetic, and so very, very far away, that it is easier to bring a magazine to the desk to read while waiting for pictures to upload than to spend four hours on the phone in order to complain about it. But it has started to cramp my style.

They are the only game in my little wooded valley, so until someone runs a line or puts up a new tower, I'm stuck with them. Should be upgrading to their second satellite soon. I know that I've promised some of you that I would get kid pictures out there for you to print, but I'm going to have to give you a disk instead, because it just isn't going to happen through Hughes.

Pixie's Big Adventure

Pixie and I went on a trial visit up to Lake Tahoe to see my grandparents this week. We stayed at the dog-friendly Montbleu Casino, (formerly Caesar's Tahoe). Pluses: jacuzzi tub, tons of down pillows, dogs, cats and birds welcome. Minuses: 8th floor pet wing rather far from semi-dark doggie park area, maids vacuuming and having a conversation down the hall at 11 pm, $35 extra pet fee.

Pixie still had a terrific time, especially sleeping on the bed and sitting in Grandpa's lap. I think next time Mike and I will go up and scout the location first to make sure there isn't a semi-dark midnight hike involved, and then Pixie will get to go up again for a visit. Tugboat's legs aren't up to the drive, but luckily, he loves his doggie hotels here in town.

When we arrived, Grandma was practicing her dexterity exercises, and proudly demonstrated her ability to put on and take off a pair of fitted wool gloves. We all had a very nice meatloaf dinner together, as well as coffee and breakfast the next morning.

He SAID I could get up here.

Kiss, kiss, snorgle, snorgle.

Why don't you go and get us some snacks? I'll be right here.

Hot tub, anyone?

Beats the heck out of the Motel 8!

Sunday Morning

I realize that this is only the second post since the election. I've been catching up with friends since then, and as I talk with or email each person, I'm sweetly surprised by the reaction to our new president. Still processing. So relieved.

While bloghopping over the weekend, I stopped off at Orangette and somehow wound up in the archives, wrapped around this lovely post about popovers. So this morning, I got up and made some. Here is the recipe I use, from my mother's red-checkered cookbook. Mom used to make these quite often. The ingredients are simple and usually on hand, and the directions are few. These are yummy piping hot out of the oven for breakfast, with Grandma's strawberry jam and scrambled eggs. (Not on the same popover.) 35 to 40 minutes seems like a long time, but if you set a timer and have something else to do, like drink a cup of coffee and read, or catch up on emails while you let someone else sleep in, it's nothing.

Popovers
1 1/2 tsp shortening (try Spectrum Organic vegetable shortening)
2 eggs, beaten
1 c milk
1 T cooking oil (olive is fine)
1 C flour
pinch salt

Tools
Muffin tin or preferably a deep popover tin
Whisk
Bowl

Method
Preheat oven to 450. Grease a muffin tin or popover tin with the shortening. Preheat pan with oven. Beat eggs, add liquids. Sprinkle in flour, beat until smooth.

Divide evenly in muffin or popover tin, no more than 2/3 full.
Bake at 450 for 20 minutes, reduce heat to 350 and bake for 15-20 minutes more

Adding herbs and finely grated parmesan cheese to these makes a tasty, savory accompaniment to breakfast or dinner. The more cheese you add, the less puffy they'll be. The Orangette recipe is a little more involved. PS- All of my popovers were mile-high with great big perfect bubbly hollows inside EXCEPT the one I saved to photograph.

HBTY

I Voted

No matter which president we wake up with tomorrow, the world always needs a good peanut butter cookie recipe. I looked for one for years, and then tasted the perfect cookie at the restaurant where I worked. Luckily, the young pastry chef was nice enough to share it with me.

This one is truly the best peanut butter cookie you have ever had. The recipe is scaled down for a couple of people plus sharing at work the next day, because most people don't want to make 8 dozen cookies. We refer to it as "Cookies Dammit" because I once sent it to my friend Karen after forgetting to send it for a long time, and that was the title of the email.

I took the picture at the top on my way home from work last night.
V I S U A L I Z E P R E S I D E N T O B A M A

For a refresher course on the Electoral College and how the election process actually works, here is the Wikipedia entry about it. Especially interesting is the the fact that there have only been three times that a candidate has won the popular vote and not received all the votes in the electoral college: twice in the 1800s, and then not again until...2000.

Cookies Dammit- Small Recipe

1 stick butter- room temp if possible
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar (use less if you like)
1 egg
1 1/8 cup peanut butter, preferably natural and chunky
1/4 to 1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp soda
1/2 tsp vanilla
1 cup cake or AP flour
extra 1/8 cup granulated sugar for marking

Method
Cream butter and sugars in a stand mixer or with a fork and a strong arm. (Definitely warm your butter if you are doing this by hand.)

Mix dry ingredients together in separate bowl.

When sugars are thoroughly blended with butter, add egg and vanilla. When thoroughly blended, add peanut butter.

Mix dry ingredients into bowl, just until combined.

Use two teaspoons to form cookies into roundish lumps on parchment-lined cookie sheet. Use a fork dipped in sugar to mark the classic "waffle-stomper" pattern in the cookies. Bake for ten to twelve minutes at 375 degrees, remove to racks to cool completely before placing on a plate. Best slightly underdone.

Options: Form with a small melon or ice-cream scoop for pretty, evenly round cookies. Leave the lumps as lumps and press a Hershey's kiss in the middle of each cookie. Or press a sugared thumb in the middle of each and add a teaspoon of strawberry jam for peanut-butter-and-jellies.

"...mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed.

But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guard for their future security."

Thomas Jefferson, from the Declaration of Independence

Go Here, Read This

McCain campaign persists in repeating false accusations about Democratic tax plan.

This is Just Wrong

Ok, these costumes for babies from Martha Stewart start out promising, with the little goldfishy in a tub, but the babies dressed as food are just weird.

This piece is definitely one of those "what is Martha thinking?" moments. You can imagine her hard marble-y syllables rolling adoringly through the descriptions of these weird costumes while the people around her smile tensely and give each other the "Can she possibly be serious?" look behind her back. Love the Spider Baby, though. If you could incorporate the black socks into a baby carrier, you could have a costume with or without the baby.(Father Ted reference here.)

Soup and Risotto

May I direct your attention to the Parsnip-Cauliflower-Leek Soup, whose link can also be found at the right. This soup is so simple to make, and so deceptively delicious, you should put it on your list to try. You don't even have to like cauliflower. The parsnips are what really make it.

And, of course, I don't stick to the quantities that are listed. I had one very big leek, two parsnips, and one cauliflower, so that's what went in it. I had chicken stock, so that went in instead of water. Everything else was pretty much the same. Damn good with buttered crusty sour bread and butter. Be sure to puree. I had it for lunch again today, too.

Turnips also appeared this week. Some beautiful Scarlet Beauties again. Cooked up in a little stock with their chopped greens and a pinch of sugar, they were so delicious-- even the next day-- they could have made their own soup.

It doesn't appear that I've mentioned risotto in my posts, which is unfortunate, but which will soon be rectified. I learned to make risotto on the line at Tra Vigne, while Michael Chiarello was still the chef. During my week in the kitchen for manager training, I dressed in whites and was to observe the workings of the "back of the house".

While on the hot side, on sautee, as they call it (as opposed to grill), we had a pretty busy lunch. The line cook ran me through the steps of making the already par-cooked risotto for each order as it came up. Front of the house manager trainees were expected to remain hands-off in the kitchen, but as the lunch rush heated up, and risotto orders poured in, the line cook began to get busier than he expected. An order of risotto was fired, and I watched the first cook-down. The rice began to bubble dry...

"Permission to stir risotto, sir?" I asked. Permission was granted and for the rest of the lunch it was "Fire risotto!" from him, and "Fire risotto!" back from me as I ladled and stirred each order of risotto*. (Later, my week turned into two weeks when the baker's assistant went to Mexico and didn't come back. If you had biscotti at Tra Vigne that was mysteriously missing its fancy sugar topping, that would have been me.)

Basic risotto recipe

As usual, I am not going to give you quantities. Use the guidelines on your box of risotto rice (Festa per la tavola! A party for your table!) for portions of rice and liquid. Do not try to do this with regular rice. It's not the same. Have an extra container of chicken stock (or vegetable stock) on hand in case you've underestimated. You've got one anyway, right?

Ingredients
olive oil
1/2 yellow onion, finely diced
(no matter how much risotto I make, or how little, I find that I use 1/2 an onion)
short-grain risotto rice
thyme
white wine
chicken stock, simmering in a pan next to your risotto pan
parmesan cheese, grated, about 1/2 to 2/3 cup
salt if necessary

Materials
2 med/large saucepans or one saucepan and one anything else pan to hold stock
wooden spoon
ladle

Method
heat olive oil in a large saucepan over med-high heat
add onion, saute until soft and only slightly golden
add rice, stir into oil and onion to coat
add thyme
listen to the sound of the rice as it hits the sides of the pan when you first pour it in. When it starts to sound tinny and looks slightly translucent and a little golden, and the onions are just barely brown, you are ready for the next step
Pour in just enough wine to barely cover the rice, about 1/2 cup. Cook the rice and wine just until absorbed.
Now you are ready to begin your "cook-downs". It will take 3 or 4 to finish the risotto.
Ladle in 2 to 3 ladles full of warm stock. If I buy stock from the store, sometimes I throw in a celery top or two while it is cooking to give it more flavor.
Stir the risotto constantly until your spoon leaves a dry path at the bottom of the pan. The rice and stock at first will be soupy, and the spoon won't leave a path. As the stock cooks into the rice, the rice will stay parted a little bit, then a lot, when the spoon-- did I mention it has to be a wooden spoon-- passes through.
When this happens, add another 3 ladles of stock and do it again. After the third cook-down, check your rice. It should still taste a little dry in the middle of each grain. Add more stock, and cook until not quite dry and the rice just al dente. The last cook-down should be a little bit slushy, because the liquid will continue to evaporate as it sits. It's ok to put in a little more stock to achieve this. Stir in parmesan, taste, and salt to your taste. I don't recommend salting before adding the cheese, but if you choose not to add the cheese, check it for salt anyway.

A VERY BIG SPIDER IS HUNTING ON THE PILLOW IN THE WINDOWSEAT RIGHT NOW.

I think that's it. Tonight we had risotto made with stock I already had in the freezer, sauteed swiss chard, and roasted Delicata squash. (I love these damn squash!) I have pictures for you, but at the moment, Lightroom is not cooperating to release my pictures, so I'll post them tomorrow.

Roasted Delicata Squash

This is a basic method that works for pretty much any fall/winter squash except spaghetti squash. You can just keep that.

Halve and seed squash. Sometimes a bread knife helps in the sawing, or a very sharp pointy knife. Keep the squash on a flat surface for stability.

Each cleaned squash half gets placed face-up on a foil-lined cookie sheet (face down is ok for the first half of cooking if you want to do it that way, just oil it first with olive oil so it doesn't stick). If you're cooking face up, give each one a sprinkle of salt and pepper, a dab of butter, a sprinkle of brown sugar and a sprig of sage. Bake at 350 until soft and sweet. If you like, you can baste the tops with the melted butter/sugar as they bake. If you've started out upside down, flip them at some point and add the goodies.

Yum. Again, pictures will be coming.

*If you ever go to Tra Vigne, and you sit on the left side of the long bar that flanks one wall, there is a small black and white picture of Peter Lorre nestled among the colorful bottles. That is Il Santo di Risotto: The Saint of Risotto. One of the first sous-chefs at Tra Vigne resembled Peter Lorre, and he was the one who discovered just the right method of par-cooking the rice so that each and every order of risotto-- cooked from scratch to order-- wouldn't take 30 minutes. This was a very important revelation, learned the hard way by the patrons, waiters and cooks who worked that first opening month. Thus, he is a saint.

Just the Right Size Batch of Oatmeal Cookies

Just the Right Size Batch of Oatmeal Cookies
10 minutes max to prep using a stand mixer, 20-30 minutes to bake

Ingredients
1 stick butter
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 cup brown sugar, firmly packed

1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
2 tblsp molasses

1 1/4 c flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon

1 cup slivered raw almonds
1/2-1 cup raisins
1 1/2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cream butter (room temp if possible) with sugars until light and fluffy or well-mixed (if your butter is cold). Add egg, molasses and vanilla, mix again thoroughly. Mix together dry ingredients in a separate bowl, add slowly to wet ingredients. Once combined, add oats, nuts and raisins, mix until just combined.
Using two teaspoons, drop onto parchment-lined baking sheet (press down with spoons to flatten slightly). Bake +/- 10 minutes, cool on rack completely before moving to a plate.
Tasty, chewy, molasses-y, not too sweet, and full of oats and nuts that aren't so bad for you.

Scary

Am I the only one that finds this whole TV appearance weeks before the election thing really surreal? It's like a scary movie about the future, where we all vote with remote controls for imaginary political candidates on television screens built into the backs of other people's heads.

Presidents and celebrities are not the same. Tina Fey doing Sarah Palin is scarily funny. Sarah Palin head-bobbing on TV to a fake rap song is a little sickening. (Amy Poehler singing it while hugely pregnant, surrounded by faux-eskimos and a stuffed moose only very slightly redeeming. Poor Amy!)

Sarah Palin is beautiful, ok, but she's not auditioning for America's Next Top Model, she's running for VICE PRESIDENT. Is this what it's come to? When the lines blur so strongly (Reagan flashback) between celebrity and reality that we are in danger of electing someone who is a caricature, running with someone who is pretty, over thoughtful, intelligent men... well, I just don't even want to think about it. How about we just elect Tom and Katie?

Read this. And this. And this. And this.

It seems every sound clip I hear of McCain lately has him desperately squawking his new mantra: "Kills Jobs! Spreads the wealth! Awk! Kills Jobs! Spreads the wealth!" You'd have to be a moron not to see that he's trying to stoke the most primal fear of loss. At the simplest level, the seed is being planted: "Fear the black man, he is going to take away what you have." The language he's using always contains strong negative associations. Even when he (weakly) defended Obama after he'd been criticized for ignoring the jeers and threats, he said, "...he's not a man you need to be afraid of being president." It doesn't matter that the foundations of his statements about Obama's tax cuts vs. his own aren't true. (I doubt even people making over $250,000 a year are shaking in their boots.) The people he's addressing-- the people who are responding-- believe him. What makes them think that a man who has helped to build the government structures that have created the world they live in today would do anything to change their lives if elected?

OK, OK, OK. This is what happens. I set out to make a simple point about how weird it is that the candidates are smiling and laughing on late night TV in the midst of one of the worst economic crises in the nation's history, and seven paragraphs later, I'm ranting and raving.

VOTE. VOTE. VOTE. Democrats, Liberals, Greens, Independents, Converts, Undecideds, women, men, young people, old people...it's going to take every single one of us to make that margin decisive. Don't give up.

By The Way

I'm not really reading Divisidero by Michael Ondaatje, yet. I've gone back to My Stroke of Insight.
***
Keep a big watering can in your shower and use it to catch the water as you're waiting for it to warm up each day. It also helps to remind you to water your plants. At least it does me. I have one pot on the front porch that always used to get neglected in the scorching summer, now it doesn't.
***
Reduce, reuse, recycle. If you are overwhelmed by the options, try reducing your use of little things, like shampoo, fabric softener, detergent, to see how little will actually do the job. I now use the small scoop from protein powder for detergent, and only one third of a fabric softener. I use a boatload of conditioner, but hardly any shampoo or body soap. No need to deprive yourself, just see what works. It may be a lot less than you think.

***
And while we're on hygiene, it's taken me a year, but I've fully adjusted to organic cotton, applicator-less tampons, which reduce waste and resources used. And I've switched to washable glad rags for night. (More than you need to know, I know, but I felt I should say something.) Mike is using a replaceable blade razor instead of buying packs of disposables.

Ack!

Look! I don't know if you see what I see, but my google ads (which don't add up to anything in terms of income, so they may soon go away) have been McCain-ized! Mine offer me several options of going to McCain sites, seeing pictures of Cindy McCain (like I would), and who knows what other malarkey. Guess what? Ads are paid for by companies and entities and political candidates. I mention Obama just as often as I mention McCain. Does that mean Mr. M is spending more money on Google advertising? Maybe he should have spent it on fact checking research about Colombia.

And don't you think it's a little weird that he and shoot-em-if-ya-got-em Palin are doing appearances on Letterman and SNL before the election? Don't they have better things to do than to yuk it up on TV two and a half weeks before a Presidential election? I haven't heard yet, maybe Obama is doing some similarly lame stunt to try to make people like him before the votes are cast, but I sincerely hope not. Please lord, let Obama win and give Sarah Palin Jerry Springer's job when he's done. I think she'd fit right in. She's going to try to show the world she's a good sport, just like her cheerleading cousin George. Please, please, America, just buy them a beer if you feel sorry for them this time.

That's Aubergine to You, Mate

Eggplant Parmesan

In my vegetarian college days, I used to love eggplant. One of the reasons is that it is usually sold by the piece, rather than by the pound, so as a person on a budget, I always looked for the biggest, prettiest one for the money. And eggplant is cheap to begin with. Here's how to make Eggplant Parmesan (Parmigiano if you prefer):

1 large or several small eggplants, sliced 3/8" thick
salt
paper towels
bread crumbs or bread ends
dried oregano
dried basil
grated parmesan cheese
garlic salt
eggs
milk or milk-like substance
tomato sauce
mozzarella cheese

glass baking dish
parchment
food processor
cookie sheet

The reason this recipe is so vague is that if you are eating by yourself, you are going to buy a small eggplant (did you know that they are so named because the variety that existed in the new world that was "discovered" by the europeans was small, white and egg-shaped?), use one egg, one piece of toasted bread, etc., while if you are feeding a family, you may use two large eggplants and increase everything proportionately. You're going to have to wing it.

Slice eggplants, toss with a sprinkle of salt in a bowl, and lay out on paper towels. Flip after 20 minutes. This step is optional, but it allows the salt to draw out some of the moisture and bitterness, making for a firmer, less slimy end product. If slimy bothers you, you might want to do it.

While the eggplants are draining, toast your bread ends, stale baguette pieces, whatever, in the toaster, then chop roughly and crumbify in the food processor until very fine. (If you've been thriftily saving bread ends and already have your dry crumbs in the pantry, good for you.) Add a teaspoon or so of dried oregano and basil, a half-teaspoon of garlic salt, and about one part parmesan cheese to two parts of bread. Whirr in the processor until well combined.

Now you can do this one of two ways, and I've tried both. Beat some eggs with a dab of milk in a bowl. Pour your crumbs into a shallow pan or plate. From here, either line a cookie sheet with parchment and oil or spray with cooking spray, or pour some tomato sauce into the bottom of a glass pan. Depends on how you want to cook your eggplant, wet (firmer) or dry (moister).

What I like to do is bake off the eggplant first, THEN layer them in the tomato-sauce pan with sliced mozzarella and top with cheese. Alternately, you can toss ALL of the eggplant in the egg bowl, mix, and then toss all of it in the crumbs to coat, and pour the whole mess in the pan with the tomato sauce. This is the lazy way, and it doesn't cook evenly, but it still tastes good. (If you are a fried-green-tomato fan, this is the way to get out of dipping each dainty little slice and getting a thick gob of crumby goo on your fingers, too. Chop your tomatoes into 1 inch cubes instead of slices, coat with egg all at once, toss in crumbs and spread the whole mass out on a greased cookie sheet or fry in a big cast iron pan. Kentucky style. Thanks Diana Brown.)

First things first. Dip each slice in egg, then in crumbs, then place on the parchment. Bake at 350 until golden on one side, then flip and finish the other side. Prepare glass pan with a thin pool of tomato sauce, then layer the cooked eggplant slices with slices or dabs of mozzarella cheese, and finish with the remaining tomato sauce and a sprinkle of the remaining parm over everything. Bake again until the cheese is melted and the tops brown.

We had this yesterday with chicken that was coated in herbs, sliced thin and baked in the same hot oven, and some steamed broccoli. Tonight, the leftovers were tossed with green beans and penne pasta. My vegetarian days were important and nostalgic cooking days for me, learning how to keep a budget and keep myself fed and healthy. I still think about those times when I eat this dish. It's warm and smells like a pizza palace, the eggplant has a meat-like bite to it, and it's comforting and yummy in the tummy. And cheap.

Election Etc.

Wednesday:
Today I had lunch with a friend and her parents. We were each talking about trying to make sure we were home to watch the debate tonight. Her mother started talking about her feelings about the two candidates. I didn't even have time to steel myself to what I expected to be a conservative take on things before she said, "Obama just sounds like a more intelligent, more thoughtful, man. More of the kind of man that we need right now." Amen, Mom.

***

In the 8th grade, a bunch of kids ran for student government. The speeches were pretty basic, probably the same speeches given by kids running for office every year in every school in the country. Nerdy, likeable, hard-working kids promised to do a good job. Popular kids' campaign promises of "vending machines in every room" or "longer recesses" or "no homework for a week" brought cheers and whistles from the crowd, and sometimes won them the election.

I remember thinking then, just as I'm thinking now when I hear some of the campaign promises being offered, "Do the people listening really believe that the candidates are going to be able to deliver on these promises?" It's easy to get caught up in the fact that someone seems to want for you exactly what you want-- be it free candy or lower taxes-- but can he or she really deliver, and does it make any sense to promise it at all?

***

After watching the Frontline profiles of the two candidates last night on PBS, I have a better understanding of their backgrounds. While I see McCain as a little more human now, I still think that Obama is a smarter man. McCain was 5th from the bottom of his class. Obama presided over the Harvard Law Review. McCain was the son and the grandson of Navy Admirals, and chose to get into politics after he married the daughter of a wealthy Arizona beer distributor. Obama, on the other hand, tried community organizing out of high school, and chose to go to law school after he realized that his efforts at the grassroots level weren't enough to make a big difference.

And the number one reason not to vote for McCain? His stand on choice, second only to his choice of vice president. The sound of President Palin sends shivers up my spine. If he becomes president (at age 70) I believe it will happen.

***

And finally, Fact Check.org is a great resource for seeing who lied, who fibbed, and who got confused during the debates.

Yet Another Reason to Get Out There and Vote

I knew there was something fishy about her.

Hie thee to Salon.com's article about Mrs. P., and then pass it on.

I Wish I'd Said That

Hop over right now and click on the Say No to Sarah link over there on the top right under FABULOUS. Read what some very intelligent, articulate women from different political parties are saying about Sarah Palin and John McCain's roles and responsibilities with respect to the thoughtless and vicious comments made by their supporters.

Gma Update

Grandma is back out of the hospital and comfortably watching TV at home. The caregivers are back on their regular schedule. My father and his brother have had a chance to spend some time with her this weekend and have headed or are heading home.

I'm so amazed at the resiliency and the plasticity of her brain, and her amazing ability to right herself. Each time she has one of these strokes, she seems not only to bounce back but to regain function. Grandpa says that her language is coming back, almost to the level it was before Tuesday.

For a glimpse into how strokes work, and what one might feel like, check out My Stroke of Insight, by Jill Bolte Taylor. (The link is for the youtube video, here is the link to the book.)

Where is My Hybrid?

Subaru, Subaru, Subaru…where is my hybrid???

I am currently the owner of a Subaru Impreza WRX, and I love my car (28-30 mpg still beats out all hybrid SUVs). If I had my choice, I would only buy Subarus. But Subaru is seriously lagging in getting into the hybrid market, and it seems that all they can offer is excuses. Batteries are not ideal, but they seem to work fine for the Prius, and all the other hybrids. Toyota, Lexus, Ford and Honda aren’t claiming that they can’t get them, or that the technology isn’t there yet. The article is full of facts and figures, all sorts of smoke-and-mirrors “education” attempting to mask the fact that Subaru doesn’t have an answer for the hybrid market and didn’t really do its homework. What's the real story?

Subaru drivers pride themselves in being sporty, outdoorsy, environmentally-correct types. We are the perfect market for the sporty hybrid wagon (that sort of looks like a shoe) you’ve so elaborately described in your article on HEVs.

So WHERE IS IT??

Even though our cars are fuel-efficient, very soon we’re all going to feel just a little bit more guilty (as though we don't already) that we’re not driving something less harmful to the environment and more economical. One by one, Subaru drivers are going to switch to hybrids. Will you be there for us, or keep making excuses?

Ruining a Perfectly Good Hairstyle Forever

Illustration by Victor Juhasz

Rolling Stone corrects the myths about Sarah Palin. Oh, lordy. The article is full of spit and venom, and somewhere in between really scary and very satisfying to read, but the truth behind her wink-wink, nudge-nudge campaign claims needs to be seen. Don't those voters who think she's cute as a button care that she's lying? Not little-white-lying, but big, fat, to-your-face- without-flinching lying. Read the whole article and see. (Isn't the illustration just awful? I want it as a t-shirt. Now.)

Remember that we are dealing with politicians on both sides here. Photo ops and media clips. Never trust anyone 100% if they are trying to sell you something. There is a whole lot of selling going on in the next four weeks. I totally disagree with politicians on both sides about their approach to healthcare. I think they are both equally full of it on the war, and their ability to fix what's wrong. But on the issues that I care about, only one party is saying what I want to hear.

Spoke Too Soon

Here is the email I sent to close family members yesterday, after visiting with Grandma and Grandpa on Sunday:

"Mike and I went up to help them out with winterizing yesterday. Gma is doing pretty well-- seems a little more anxious, but no trips to the emergency room this week, and that's a good thing. Next time, we hope to be able to spend more time. Gpa has lost more weight, but he looks good. Often it's hard to get a read on how he's feeling on the phone, as there is always somebody right next to him. Sometimes the girls even answer the phone. But both of them seemed well this weekend other than that...and we all made it down from the roof safely.

The girls that come and help them are all very nice and have been doing a really good job keeping the house clean. Nichole (one of the caregivers) actually dismantled and cleaned the whole dining room chandelier, and I washed the tablecloth, so it's looking pretty good in the dining room along with all the dusting that you did. The living room stuff is now confined to the side nearest the door, and it looks like it's getting smaller.

We all sat down at the kitchen table and had meat and cheese sandwiches, soup, potato chips and bread-and-butter pickles, just like old times. It was so nice to sit at the table again! One question: Grandpa and I were looking for Grandma's cookbook from the 40's that used to sit right behind the TV in the kitchen. We couldn't find it upstairs in either of the bookcases, or in any of the kitchen drawers with the rest of the recipes. Unless someone knows where it is, we'll start going through the boxes until we find it, but I didn't see it when I was moving the stuff around in the living room either. Does anyone remember seeing it?"

And this morning, Tuesday, sometime between 3 a.m. and 12 p.m., Grandmother suffered another stroke that left in its wake the physical signs you always hear about. She's not talking right now, and we don't know if she will again.

Wow.

I hadn't thought about what a big deal that is until I typed it. She can still understand, as far as we know. As of this morning, the caregiver said she was understanding and responding to directions, but couldn't speak. The CAT scan confirms that there has been major damage this time.

Tomorrow will be as tomorrow will be. Dad and his new wife are flying in from Tennessee and Missouri. My uncle is coming up from Fresno tonight. The doctor says now is the time to visit, but I wish they had all been there in September. Grandma was still having a good time then. I wish that they had all been there on Sunday, too, to talk to her and see that despite the setbacks, she was comfortable. Anxious but happy, participating in conversations and jokes. She had her sense of humor--and her trademark icy glare at Grandpa when he told her she was doing just fine eating by herself. Earlier in the week, she had said she wanted to make applesauce from the apples on the little tree in their backyard. When Grandpa could only reach one, she-of-few-words-lately popped off with a perfectly sarcastic, "Oh, the last of the big spenders-- thanks a lot!"

Sunday, she remembered the location of her jam recipes at the bottom of a kitchen drawer and made me take them home. She told me at least ten times to be careful, thank goodness Mike fixed the dishwasher, and have a safe trip home.

Grandma, I wish more than anything that you have a safe trip home, too.

Love, Tamarina

Don't Vote- and Don't Miss This

The Saturday Night Live parody of the Vice-Presidential debate takes a little bit of the sting out of the fact that people actually praised the alleged Governor of Alaska for not completely blowing it.

If you'd like to view the fascinating celebrity "Don't Vote" video, hop on over to my friend Briana's blog for the link.

Don't forget that you have just over a week to register to vote. This election will make a huge difference: the prevailing party will put the judges of their choosing on the Supreme Court, and the rights that our mothers and grandmothers fought for in the 70s are on the line. Every single vote counts. Every woman's voice, young and old, needs to be heard. We cannot go back. We will not go back.

Missed You!

Hello darlings!

I feel like I'm curling up on a cushion in a sunny bay window with a cup of tea and a friend (more likely, a glass of wine!). I missed you!

I know the first question on your mind is "How is Grandma?" She is doing well, consistently staying out of trouble (mostly) and the emergency room (fingers crossed). Mike and I and possibly one of the dogs are going up this Sunday for a visit and work day to get a few things done that need to be done before the winter weather really sets in.

Pixie had her "tanks pulled" as Mike puts it, on Tuesday a week ago. I felt sort of bad getting her spayed, just because it was elective surgery, but it had to be done. She was fine with the surgery, but had a pretty hard time afterwards, a bad reaction to the anesthesia that made the vet keep her overnight. He's a great vet: he spent all evening with her at the office, up until 10 p.m. when he determined she could finally keep some food down. Sometimes she is a royal pain in the ass (like tonight, fidgeting around, stealing Tugboat's toys and chewing up the coasters when we're not looking), but I was so worried about her that day that I cried for hours, no lie. She was supposed to have nothing more strenuous than leash walks for two weeks, but she's so restless tonight that I don't think either one of us can handle not running for that much longer. I'm not a running freak, but when my days are busy, my gym time shrinks, so sometimes that hour with the dogs is the only workout I get. And I have to remind myself that there are only a few months (3 to 9) of her doggie teenagerhood left. If I can just survive this, I'll have one really nice dog and one totally neurotic one.

A couple of notes: Sarah Palin. WTF?! I thought I was overreacting to her, and then I saw the interview with Katie Couric. She is a joke! I don't really care anymore what she stands for-- she's a total idiot. The only thing I can think is that after the cute factor wears off, the Republicans hope that McCain will indeed die during his term and they'll have another clueless puppet president in the back pocket of the oil interests.

Saw the debate. Thought Obama was much more together and definitely more presidential than that woodchuck McCain. I really tried to listen with an open mind, but it was difficult. Here are some of the phrases I'd like to plaster to my car, were I the bumper-sticker type:

SARAH PALIN IS A JOKE

I JUST WANT A PRESIDENT WHO ISN'T EMBARRASSING

CAN YOU AFFORD FOUR MORE YEARS OF THIS?

and

THERE IS FAR TOO MUCH AT STAKE TO VOTE REPUBLICAN

Oh yeah, and based on the fact that a large number of people said that they voted for Bush because he seemed like the kind of guy they'd like to have a beer with:

THIS TIME, BUY McCAIN A BEER AND ELECT A REAL PRESIDENT.

Ok, that's enough of that. In the past, I've been always been blase about politics. I hate to say it, but has always been more like celebrity news to me. It never affected my daily life. Something to talk about, as remote and untouchable as goings-on at the space station. I got excited about Clinton and he disappointed me, so I'm reluctant to stand up and cheer for anyone. HOWEVER, I would like to be proud of my country again, and I would like to have respect for the person elected president. I don't know if Obama can change the way the world now perceives us, but it is important to hear that he understands the concept. Marching Band McCain and his wooden rendition of God Save the Regime doesn't work for me.

In other news...the girls and I had a fun day at the preview of the new Academy of Sciences in Golden Gate Park two weeks ago. The Academy officially opened this weekend, and 250,000 people attended. When we were there, I had the feeling that it would eventually grow into its space, but hearing that number (500 admitted every half an hour from a line in which people waited two-and-a-half hours) I'll bet the space was filled out as it was.








We checked out the scene then had a picnic on the green, did some hill-rolling under the Francis Scott Key statue after lunch, and then checked out some more. There are a lot of really cool things to see. I enjoyed watching the skates and rays in the lagoon. I'll probably go back by myself during the week sometime to sit in front of the coral reef and watch the fish. The alligators (crocodiles?) gave us a surprise thrill from the downstairs vantage point. The centerpiece rainforest was still being...forested... when we were there. In fact, I wondered if they'd get it all finished in time, given the number of things being unpacked, assembled, painted and built while we were visiting.

The penguins were cool, if a little surreal. They are situated at the end of the restored "African Hall" which is a display of incredibly skillful and realistic taxidermy of African animals. Sealed completely into their habitat, they appeared as in a giant fish tank. They were friendly and definitely interacted with those of us on the other side of the thick glass, but it was a little confusing to the smaller children. More than one asked why the taxidermied animals weren't alive, and if they were real. Well yes... and no... Maggie repeated our explanation that they were real on the outside, but not on the inside anymore. It's hard to remember that you're not exactly in a zoo. For a first day, it was pretty darn cool. I wasn't sure how much Maggie liked it, until she said, "I wish every day could be like today!"

After flailing around King of Thai on Clement Street, we made our way sleepily home. Ahhh.

Still more to catch up on. Talk to you soon.

Melon Granita

We are overwhelmed by beautiful melons from the veggie box at the moment, and this seemed like the best way to use up one or two that we couldn't get to.

Melon Granita

1 1/2 small melons, canteloupe, orange honeydew, etc.
1/4 cup sugar
fresh lemon juice to taste if desired

Cut peeled melon into chunks, place in blender, add sugar and lemon juice (if desired). Blend briefly, just until you have a slightly chunky puree. Pour into a metal cake pan and freeze. Scrape with a fork to make snow-cone textured granita. Serve with a garnish of mint leaves or a thin dutch butter cookie. An orange granita alongside a green honeydew granita would be an elegant, tasty and inexpensive dessert for a warm summer night.

The basic recipe I consulted called for 1/4 cup sugar and 1 tsp lemon juice to 2 cups melon. I used at least twice that much melon with the same amount of sugar and no lemon juice, because the melon was very sweet and I wanted the true flavor to come through. You could make this any way you like it.

That's it. It tastes absolutely divine, especially since my mouth is burning from the sriracha* on the take-out pizza we had for dinner tonight. I promise to try to photograph this some time in the next few days, as I realize I have been slacking on good food photographs since I took the photo class back in July and August.

*If you haven't tried sriracha on pizza, and you are someone who flirts with danger when it comes to the chile flakes on your pie, this may be your new best friend. Indispensable when it comes to chilis, curries and chinese peanut sauce.

And Now for Something Completely Different

Bunny with a Handgun

Sarah Palin is cute as a button. I admire a perky, smart, ambitious woman as much as the next person. I love that she's from a woodsy state like Alaska, wears big husky fur collars and was voted Miss Congeniality. How cute!

However (prepare yourself, o conservative reader) I believe that a woman's right to decide whether or not to carry and deliver a child is the most fundamental freedom. There is nothing more important. Without the right to decide for herself who lives inside her own body and when, a woman becomes no more than livestock. No man, no god, no party and no government has the right to make that decision. Cute though she may be, Sarah and her party are carrying hatchets meant to chop away my fundamental freedoms.

Nobody likes abortion. It's an ugly word that no one likes to say. I would love to live in a world where education, planning and prevention made abortion obsolete. So what if her "abstinence only" policy with her own children left her own young daughter high and dry?

According to the Washington Post, "The choice of Sarah Palin smacks of desperation..." She is being dangled before us, a cute hand-puppet, a spunky mom with troubles of her own, to distract us, to give the impression of change where there is none. Everybody loves moms, right? So what if it's an anti-gay mom?

It is almost unbelievable that Sarah Palin is being offered as an alternative to disenfranchised women who felt defeated when Hillary Clinton did not win the nomination. (Except that I'd believe just about anything at this point.) As long as the women in question don't really care what a woman in power believes, as long as she's a woman. As long as they don't give a hoot about the rights of their friends, their neighbors, or their daughters.

Lisa Schiffren, speechwriter for Dan Quayle (talk about the blind leading the blind!) says: "Talk about a role model for our daughters: Annie Oakley in the halls of power! With a newborn . . . and a son serving in Iraq. I am giddy!" Hmmm...except I think Annie Oakley might have been a lesbian, and therefore a non-person in Sarah's world, the newborn is her underage daughter's, and she thinks exploiting the Alaskan wilderness is the way to get us out of Iraq. Sorry, son!

How's Grandma?

That is the question of the day.

Grandma is great. In fact, I just called the house to thank Grandpa for referring me to Redwood Credit Union (they are so nice!) and she unexpectedly picked up the phone and chatted for a minute. Apparently, the caregiver got sick today and went home, so Grandpa made lunch.

Grandma is also 85. There are a lot of things that go along with being 85, most of which are a little too delicate for public airing. There are caregivers coming to the house to help out with basics each day. It's not an ideal situation, but it is the best thing for right now.

She seems pretty good, generally, except for the days when things go very badly. Those days sometimes wind up in the emergency room. But if you ask her, she'll tell you herself that she's doing better and better every day.

Who Are You, and What Have You Done with August?

Where were we?

Since I have no idea where we left off (ok, I read the posts, but before that) I'm going to start somewhere. Mike bought the audio book of Jack Kerouac's "On the Road" recently and has made it to disk 3, so I've been listening to it in the car on my way to and from work so that I can catch up with him.

It is blowing my mind to think that the people in the book are people of my grandparents' generation. The urgency of youth is both enviable and sweetly naive. The rhythm of the prose is like the works of a ticking wooden clock, moving at a staccato clip and glinting with curious and unexpected little jewels. It's funny to be driving through the Napa Valley in the cool mornings, smelling fermentation happening, following grape gondolas and teams of dark and serious workers, and simultaneously hearing Kerouac's romantic rendering of the October mists of Fresno and his holy communion with dirt while picking cotton in the Big Valley.

Apropos of nothing, here are ten things I like right now:

My Grandma and Grandpa (I'm not counting that, because that is a different level of love than the things below)

Whole Foods
Bumble and Bumble Curl Conscious Conditioner and Creme (but it's stupidly expensive for conditioner)
Dr. Hauschka Mascara
Pixie
Mark Helprin's Books (when is he going to write a new one?)
The New Best Recipe cookbook
Mother Jones Magazine (Wow- where has this been my adult life? The last I remember, this was a grow-your-own type of rag in the 70s. The cover this month with George Bush as the melting Witch of the West is damn funny.)
Dooce.com
Sea Wolf

Just a totally random list of things I could think of quickly. No links, look 'em up yourself.

Oh yeah, and caffeine. Dude! I haven't had any caffeine to speak of for years, and Sunday I had a very dainty regular espresso in my favorite fashion, which is to say with a tiny dab of sugar and half-and-half. (In Healdsburg, where we went to a new shop called 14 feet- faboo). It was incredibly delicious, and I had such a nice time. I came home and organized my entire office, including the closet. I knew it was dangerous when I craved another hit the first thing the next morning, so I will avoid it again for a while.

This is my week for doctor and dentist check-ups, and then next Tuesday I am SO EXCITED to be going to a member preview at the spanking new Academy of Sciences. I have been waiting for this ever since they closed the Steinhart at the park.

This is it for now...need to see what my little dog is doing snuffling under the bed....

It's good to be back!

So Little Time

When I wrote the post title above, I really just intended to write about all of the things I am excited to do, to read, to see, to try, and how there never seems to be enough time to do them all. Then I thought of my grandma, who is back in the hospital today, and it seemed a little bit more weighty to contemplate, and those things to do lists awfully unimportant. Love your people. All of 'em, big and small.

Back in the Saddle Again

Thank you once again to everyone who has offered support, cooking help, cross-country emails and lots of positive thoughts.

Although each day has its ups and downs, Grandma and Grandpa are holding steady for now. She's even allowing kisses and hugs, and yesterday she told me that she finally got two good hours of sleep. Despite a rocky morning after, Grandpa was also able to catch up on a little shut-eye.

The last day I was there, I was talking with the caregiver about keeping Grandma happy and comfortable. I turned around to Grandma and said, "Grandma, are you happy?" and she said, "Oh, yeah, real happy!" Can't beat that.

Rosie the Riveter

First and most importantly, for those of you who have been worrying along with me, Grandma is not only still very much with us, she's doing absolutely great. I've been up in Tahoe with them both since Friday. She came home from the rehabilitation center on Saturday. She had a rough patch (putting it fairly mildly) and went back into the hospital, but yesterday and today she was again feisty and chatty. She asked for Grandpa to bring "some boxes of chocolate" for the nurses (which he did) and for a ride in the wheelchair (which she got). She ate her dinner last night "like an athlete" according to Grandpa.

When her doctor, who wasn't quite up to speed with her condition (and in my opinion, is not exactly an A student), came in to check on her, he said, "Rose, do you know who I am?" very slowly and loudly. Grandma looked at him, rolled her eyes at us and said, "Yes-- do you know who I am?" We cracked up. That's my Grandma! Those of you who know her, please do continue to send cards to her home address, as she is reading and saving every one.

Tomatoes

Two Quick Summer Recipes

Due to a host of circumstances, my posting has slipped a bit in the last two weeks. These past few days have been about getting things back in order around here, and yesterday afternoon I took a walk out to the big garden for the first time in weeks to see what was happening. I found myself in the midst of glorious summer. On top of the fragrant cantaloupe, fresh corn, skinny Japanese eggplant and tangy zebra and green grape tomatoes I found there, we also discovered a little nectarine tree in our backyard, laden with fruit. Here is what we made from the bounty:

Frozen Nectarine Margaritas
16 oz sliced fresh nectarines
2-3 shots tequila
Juice of 1/2 large lime or 1 small lime
1-2 tablespoons agave syrup, as needed, depending on sweetness of fruit
1 cup ice cubes
1/2- 1 cup water, if necessary to thin to drinking consistency

Blend until smooth, adding water to thin if necessary. To freeze nectarines, slice and arrange in a single layer on a parchment or plastic covered sheet pan. Freeze until solid. Store in zipper bags. Great in smoothies too. I keep these in the freezer throughout summer, adding new fruit as the supply is depleted. These are also good defrosted just a little bit for dessert, with ladyfingers and cream or by themselves. Frozen peaches and nectarines also work for pie and cobbler.


Gazpacho- basic recipe
4.5 lbs tomatoes
1 cup vodka (I'm assuming this is optional)
2 T lemon juice
1/2 T horseradish
1 T worcestershire
kosher salt to taste
1/2 to 1T tabasco (Can be added later to each serving)
1 gypsy pepper, diced
1 avocado, diced
fresh cilantro, basil, or parsley, chopped

Divide tomatoes in half. Roughly chop 1/2 and place in blender with ingredients up to kosher salt. Puree and strain. Dice the remaining tomatoes and gypsy pepper very small, and add to strained puree. Chill.

To serve, ladle into small bowls, making sure to get both soup and diced tomatoes, and add tabasco to taste. Top with avocado and fresh herbs. Creme fraiche would also be nice on top if you have it. I like this soup best topped with chilled crabmeat or shrimp. This time, I used the full tablespoon of tabasco in the whole batch of soup to be chilled. It was not too spicy for me, but I would have left it out if I had guests, because I think children would eat the soup without it. Too hot otherwise. Also substituted wasabe for horseradish. Either works.

Grandma

Thank you to those of you who have sent messages of support for my grandma. She is out of the hospital again and into a rehab facility after the latest stay in ICU, but she is definitely not out of the woods. It is a roller-coaster ride-- less for me than for my grandpa, who is still in Modesto with her. Your support has been so important to me. I hope you'll all continue to send good thoughts her way.

Before I Forget

I recently replaced my aging bathroom towels with these from Target. I had been looking and looking for just the right grassy green and couldn't find it in any catalog or store, not at Macy's, not even Garnet Hill or Pottery Barn. I came across these on the sale shelf at Target and bought one washcloth to take home, check the color, and run through the wash to see how it fared. The towels are surprisingly lush, fluffy and large. Besides the brights which are now on sale but may be in short supply (order them from Target.com if you can't find them locally), they also come in white and lovely sedate earth tones. I am so far very happy with the quality and feel. They feel much more expensive than they were.

The only drawback was that there were no matching bathmats. I like a washable towel-material bathmat, rather than one of those grungy, rubber-backed stringy things that always ends up permanently stained or stinky, so I guess the hunt is still on. Since hardly any of the furniture in the house we now live in belongs to us, when I buy things I'm furnishing the beach house in my mind. Instead of saying, "Will this match the sofa?" I think, "Will this match the off-white canvas Pottery Barn sofa with the striped rug under it?" or "Will this go with my orange and white paisley fluffy bed from Anthropologie?" Or my "retro-modern aqua naugahide (htfdy spell that?) settee?" Ok, not that extreme, but like that. And that is my way of explaining why I have grassy-lime towels even though my tile is beige and my bathroom floor is (ugh!) navajo red stone. You'll see.