Archive for April 2014

Stroll Down Creativity Lane

            I do a lot of walking. This is partially because I’m lucky enough to live in a neighborhood that is safe, pretty, and has most of my typical destinations (e.g. grocery store) within a handful of blocks. It’s also because I’m on a tight gas budget; I like the exercise; and – most relevantly – it gives me time to mentally develop plots and characters. Then the final bonus: there’s plenty of scope for the imagination, to borrow and Anne Shirley-ism. I love looking around me as I stroll and seeing little visual treasures—to me, they’re like short stories for the eyes.
      I took a delightful walk in the rain today; a warm, fragrant, pastel shaded spring rain. There were several rich visual vignettes to be observed along my way. I saw a baby snake – no longer than six inches – sulking in the middle of the sidewalk, brown and wet. I saw a big puddle swirling with sinister looking designs of bright, yellow-green pollen. I saw a late-blooming magnolia tree surrounded by such a thick ring of flowering dandelions that the white and pink blossoms on the tree seemed to be glowing.

      And I saw two prim houses across each other on a narrow side street, each with a second floor window open to the humid morning, and a cat perched inside the window. One was a fluffy grey with a white chin, the other a lean-looking tabby. These cats were clearly eyeing one another across the way. Whether their mutual gaze was one of affection, suspicion, or idle interest is beyond my ability to fathom, but it was highly entertaining for observe.

Research, Research, Food, Research

Today I’m writing a scene that takes place over dinner in a wealthy family home, set in 1860’s New Orleans. This is the kind of research that makes me hungry—my favorite kind!

Since the Edwardian and Victorian eras are really my favorites, I’ve read a lot of books written in the time period. Alas, they tend to be pretty light in describing their meals. There are, of course, notable exceptions (such as the “Anne of Green Gables” series and nearly anything written by Charles Dickens), but often these writers use the food to inject humor or highlight a character quirk, which means they should not always be taken as common culinary habit.

A better resource for me has been museums, especially those in the form of preserved personal residences! Tour guides are a wealth of information, and they typically love to share details they are unable to work into their regular spiels. For example, I recently visited Boston, MA and made a point of touring Gibson House. Our tour guide Jonathan was excellent about pointing out various details around the family china, the layout of the butler’s pantry, and the general atmosphere of the dining room—all wonderful tidbits that help make a scene come alive! But more to our topic, he talked about how a Victorian-era dinner party would typically include no fewer than twelve courses and in Boston they invariably included some form of oysters.

This would also have been true of New Orleans. Alas for me, oysters are probably the one shellfish with which my palate is not on amiable terms. Scallops? A peerless first course option. Mussels? I’ll take extra bread for sopping up every drop of whatever cooking broth you use! Clams? I’ll take ‘em anyway you make ‘em! But oysters…well, I haven’t given up, but let’s just keep it to a wave and a smile for now. I had oysters Rockefeller once that were pretty good, but mostly I remember tasting parsley and Parmesan. (Which is probably why I liked it.) I’ve had oyster stew that I couldn’t finish, sautéed oysters that were so oily I gagged, and the one time I tried raw oysters I needed two glasses of wine for my mouth to recover (and then, since I’m a lightweight, the rest of the meal was a rather boozy blur).

It must come down to texture: I don’t do slimy. Which makes me sad. There are some people who take abject pride in their culinary “aw HELL no’s”*, but I am not one of them. Generally speaking I love to try new things, and if given the opportunity will happily prattle on about the more rare and unusual edibles I have consumed (and oh look! Now I have a blog!). Somewhere in my life, I learned that food tastes good. It might not taste good to me right away, but if I can take my time and be discerning, I can usually determine what stands out about it and find the niche in my own palate to correspond. Which isn’t to say I like everything—I have a vivid memory of receiving a complimentary dessert sample from the chef at a high end boutique restaurant in Portland, OR: curry strawberry gelée. I like curry, and I like strawberries, but after that little experiment I can promise you that in my kitchen ne’er the twain shall meet. Yeeeuck. So the fact that I can’t get past my slimy hang-up grieves me, because it precludes me from enjoying some rather famous flavors.

Also, as in the case of this particular scene I’m writing, it means I am unable to draw from personal experience when describing the food. I should vastly prefer to close my eyes and recall the flavor, aroma and mouth feel of a food myself before having a character take a bite. I know from personal experience how specific dishes can change the mood of a meal almost instantly. But here, my two fictional friends will begin a lengthy dinner by consuming oysters, and they will enjoy every bite, while I – the poor soul who composes it all – am restricted to imagination and second hand information to do them justice. Le sigh.


*Oooo, I like this! I think I’m going to reference it again and again, with the abbreviation CAHN’s: “culinary-aw-HELL-no’s!”

Les Croissants!

Well, I did it! I successfully created and baked croissant dough!
My conclusion: the French are insane.*

Let me assume most of you are unfamiliar with how croissants are made. And, before I go any further, I suggest you take a moment to revel in your ignorance. No, seriously, lay back and roll around in it like a happy puppy squirming on spring grass, because the luscious, buttery, painfully perfect flakiness that is a quality croissant is a beautiful thing. How DO they do it?! It's like a dense cobweb of tender bread wisps constructed within its own humid atmosphere of butter. (Ok, least poetic description ever...but I stand by its accuracy.) With its fragile, golden brown exterior of baked crispness, a true croissant never fails to satisfy. It is unlike any other pasty known to humankind. Like the nautilus shell, its beauty is part uniqueness, and part mystery.
And unlike a nautilus shell, part fabulously scrumptious.

So now that you've pondered and appreciated the unknown aspects of the croissant, let me tell you how it's done! It's all about layers. Layers of pastry and layers of butter. And these layers are created through repeated rolling, folding and chilling. I started this dough on Friday night, warming some whole milk and adding sugar, vanilla and yeast (yeay yeast!), then stirring in some flour and salt. Pop in the fridge and let it rise over night.
Saturday I created a butter block (a giant wad of butter beaten with a tad of flour - while still cold!) and sealed it within the dough. Then I rolled it out. The idea is to create a sort of butter-and-dough sandwich with a nice, even layer of butter. Who wants to take bets I got that right the first time? Aaaand you all lost your money, my butter tried vey hard - and succeeded - to break into shards and escape the dough encasement. It didn't get melty and ooze out, however, so I was spared that misfortune. Once rolled out, fold over a few times and chill 30 min. Then remove and let sit at room temp for 15 min. Then roll and fold. Repeat. Repeat again. How much time has gone by since we started this nonsense? Oh yeah, FOUR FREAKING HOURS, not including the over night rise and prep the day before. By this time, if you're like me, you've entered the grim stage of baking. The this-bloody-stupid-pastry-had-better-f@$%!*&-turn-out-because-I-damn-well-could've-learned-how-to-perform-life-saving-surgery-in-the-time-this-has-taken stage. When the dough was finished, I opted for a toasted almond cream filling and made a Kringle, which I then stuck in the fridge until I baked it this morning.

And how did it turn out? Scrump-diddily-umptious!
I won't say it was as pretty as I had hoped, but my first-time desserts never do, it takes practice to make them as lovely looking as they taste. But the pastry was buttery, flaky, tender, and delicious! Check all four boxes and give the girl a passing grade, she successfully made CROISSANT pastry!
My husband and I probably ate way more than was good for us for breakfast, and I'm already planning on having another slice for tea. I'm at a point in the story I'm writing where my main character leaves the wild west and returns to mid-Victorian era Boston, so tea and pastry will be an appropriate writing-time snack. But that's another blog post, I suppose. I will simply bid you all happy brunch, and hope your next culinary endeavor meets with similar (or superior) success!


*Insanely AWESOME!!!

In the Beginning, there was Yeast.

So let's get down to brass tacks: I started this blog because I write fiction, and I have a dream of being a published author someday. How long have I had this dream? Well, in her astonishing pile of sentimental odds and ends from my early days, my mother has a compilation of scarcely decipherable picture books I doodled as soon as I could get my hands on washable markers--so it would seem I was writing books since before I could write. I love stories. I think in stories, dream in stories (sooo many fascinating dreams), and my conversation is liberally peppered with them. I will happily write until the end of my days no matter what happens, but let's face it: my life would be even cooler if one of my stories appeared in professional print on a nice bookstore shelf.

Apparently, however, in this glorious digital age, one greatly increases one's chances of being published if one has written other stuff--even if it's a blog.  0.o  I confess, while I think the progeny of my over-active imagination are suitably entertaining, I don't flatter myself the ramblings of my real life are all that interesting. I have attempted bloggishness in the past, but it's always dwindled off. So how to make a blog that keeps my interest (at the very least) and possibly may amuse some other random people in the universe? (Hi, random people!) The advice I have received suggests genuineness. As with being a good friend, a good therapist, or a good statesperson (as opposed to a politician), being genuine is central.

Which means writing about things that genuinely interest me. Therefore, this blog shall largely focus on reading, writing, and food. Because for me the three are oddly closely linked. Reading a good book with a snack is frankly the most basic comfort activity I can think of. I've never written a cookbook and currently have no plans to do so, but whenever I write I find myself using meals, eating habits and specific foods as character development. I also have a habit of cooking types of food my characters would eat, and then devouring it myself as I type my stories. So as far as topic fodder, scribbles and munch seem pretty straight forward.

Which brings me to yeast: I've been planning an Easter brunch for my husband and I(I love any excuse to make a fancy brunch--did you know that April 16th was National Eggs Benedict Day, incidentally? I love me some Julia Child hollandaise!), and finally decided to try my hand at croissants from scratch. It shall be a daunting task, consuming many hours and potentially lethal amounts of butter. But I have more than mastered pie crust, biscuits, buttermilk bread, and brioche. It's time to take the next step. It's time to use these granite counter-tops to their full potential. And as every good croissant starts with yeast, so does this blog! Fail or triumph, it is the process that matters.

And if I mess up too badly, there will still be ham.

Enjoying Excellent Scribbles at S.P.A.C.E.

(Hee hee...remember "Pigs in Space," on "The Muppet Show?" SCRIBBLES IN SPAAAACE!)

This last weekend I went to Columbus, Ohio to attend the Small Press & Alternative Comics Expo (S.P.A.C.E.) with a friend of mine. That was a lot of fun! I got a crick in my neck from looking down at interesting tables for about three hours. I saw some very beautiful artwork, some very creative stories, and some highly entertaining ideas. Best of all I had some interesting conversations with comic creators and their friends.
One artist was a woman I had met on a previous occasion at a writer’s conference, Kat Klockow, the creator of “Lady Grey” (which I intend to being reading over a nice glass of chilled wine later this evening). She was actually one of the first tables I visited and I’m glad I did, because she recommended a few other artists to me and also informed me of the sad under-representation of female artists in comics. C’est tragique! (I took French in middle school and high school, and it remains my brain’s go-to language for drama.) Being an artist, a writer, and woman, I immediately resolved to stop and chat with every female at S.P.A.C.E. This was an easy resolution to make and fulfill, because I spoke with almost all the artists regardless of gender—plus, the women were really cool! I loved the variety of age and personality they represented, and their creative energy was positively contagious.
Some of my favorites? Colleen Clark (http://www.colleenclarkart.net/) had some great art, some kick-ass messages, and one print of pugs that particularly delighted by friend and I for its astonishingly accurate portrayal of pug-hood. Kori Michelle Handwerker (not sure if that’s her real name, but I sincerely hope it is because it rocks), the creator of “The Prince of Cats,” and online comic I’ve followed diligently for several months. She captures mood and character really, really well with her watercolors, and also demonstrates great storytelling. Then there was Lora Innes (do ALL female comic artists have cool names?), the creator of “The Dreamer” (http://www.thedreamercomic.com/). I haven’t started reading her in earnest, I only flipped through the first issue at her booth because I found her prints arresting: wonderful expression, great use of color and shape. Also, the story grabbed me in the first few pages, so I’m really looking forward to it.
There were several others, but I’m a big believer in not going on TOO long in blog posts—plus, it's freezing cold (again) and I want to start baking.

(I’ll share some recipes later!)

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