This and That

I love you guys for wanting an iced coffee recipe. It's, like, coffee? With, like, ice in it? No. I'm kidding. Because the truth is: I happen to have an excellent method. It involves my trusty Melita Coffee Cone--one of those plastic things a filter sits in, and then you stick it on top of a mug and pour boiling water into it. (Although now I just hurt my own feelings by looking it up on amazon and seeing that it comes in porcelain! Oh! Mine is cruddy old brown plastic. Sigh.) I put a lot of dark ground coffee in it and brew the coffee right into my to-go glass: strong and short, that's how I do it. An inch or so of nearly espresso-strength coffee. Then I fill the glass with ice cubes and then with milk. If I'm needing something sweet, then I add a dash of vanilla and a small spoon of agave syrup or sugar. Voila!

But I forgot to say that there's another to-go cup option you can use in a pinch, and it's this:

Can you see that? It's a mason jar, but instead of the metal lid insert, you screw a piece of wax paper under the ring, poke a hole in it, and insert a straw. Voila! It's not as leak-proof as the one below, but it has the added advantage (if you use a skinny jar) of fitting in a cup holder.

Okay, moving on from summer drinks. Wait--not yet. Okay, now. I have some recipes over at Family.com that I'd love for you to check out. One is meat on a stick, more graciously known as satay, that has actually inaugurated a crazy eating-everything-on-a-stick phase at our house (we actually did make that Greek salad on a stick, and it was awesome). And then there are homemade corn tortillas, which are a delight in every way. I'm going to post a related recipe soon for classic Mexican rice, but I keep trying to make it work with brown rice, because I've just completely lost any remaining shred of interest in white rice. So I've been trying to adapt my excellent white-rice Mexican-style pilaf, but with poor results--the brown rice seems so disinclined to cook. Thoughts? I'd appreciate any ideas you have on this front. {edited to add: the actual cooking of brown rice is not the problem--I do that in a rice cooker, which I love. It's the pilaf-style cooking of it with broth and tomato sauce that's not working so well: the rice persists in its rawness for an almost uncannily long time.}

And, finally, another book give-away! My friend Jennifer has just published her first book, and it's this:

and it's here and it's beautiful. It's a memoir about raising her two hearing-impaired daughters, who happen to be two of my favorite kids and also very good friends of Ben and Birdy, and it's moving and real and redemptive in all the best ways. She has given me a copy to give away here, so I'm going to do just that. Leave me a little comment if you would like the book. Don't worry if there are also comments about Mexican brown-rice pilaf or to-go cups. I will figure it all out.

xo Catherine

Smoky Shrimp with Garlic and Olive Oil

This is a recipe was actually inspired by a dish I didn't make: "Portuguese-style pork and clams with chorizo and fried potatoes" from the exquisite Sunday Suppers at Lucques cookbook that I checked out of the library. It's a cookbook that really makes me understand the expression food porn: it's under my side of the bed, and before I go to sleep, I look at the photographs in a drooling stupor of fantasy, thinking about the actual dinner I've eaten the way maybe some people think about their regular old non-centerfold wives. Sigh.

And I could make that dish--I could. Clams are relatively inexpensive, and I love them. And Ben loves clams. And Birdy, well, Birdy is Birdy when it comes to any chicken-of-the-sea type of situation, so clams and shrimp--it's all the same yuck to her. But Michael is allergic to clams. Or was. Or is still kind of. And only because somebody so rudely mentioned that a recipe column may not be the best place to tell my endless stories about barf (What the?) will I spare you the details. Of the two incidents. One which involved Michael not singing his rightful half of a West Side Story duet in the car ("Honey, honey, this is you! Tonight, tonight. . .  Wait, are you okay?. . . . Oh. . . . yikes. . . . ") and the other which involved baby Birdy in the Bjorn. With Michael and his clam poisoning. Enough said.

So these shrimp were my response to all that clammy lukewarmness, and man--as compromises go, this is as good as it gets.  So good, in fact, that I ended up making them, and then making them again five days letter: both times we licked the platter clean. With the smoky paprika and the sherry vinegar, you'll feel like you're eating tapas on the coast of Spain (or so I imagine, having never eaten tapas on the coast of Spain). And you have to serve the shrimp with lots of crusty bread for mopping up all of the lovely, ruddy, garlicky oil (and so that crustacean-haters like Birdy can eat just the bread and oil for dinner: Hello, unbalanced meal! "Pretend the shrimp are sea monkeys!" I said. No, just kidding. I would never.) I could eat them again this second, and if shrimp weren't on the pricier end of our food budget, I would. (Alas, tonight's more of a lentil night. Not that I don't love lentils.)

But I actually think that this exact recipe would be really good with clams subbed in for the shrimp, and Michael swears he's ready to try again. I promise I won't tell you how it goes.

Smoky Shrimp with Garlic and Olive Oil

Serves 4 for dinner (as long as one of those four people is a child who won't eat it)

Active time: 10 minutes; total time: 25 minutes

I really, really recommend using the ingredients below. Sherry vinegar is just so incredibly smooth and deep--you will love it here, and on a salad with walnuts, and drizzled onto a dish of lentil soup. . . And the smoked paprika, well, you know how I feel about it. And the masses of garlic. Do take the time to salt the shrimp beforehand: it seasons them beautifully and also firms them up a bit, which I find a more appealing texture. Serve this with lots of crusty bread for sopping up the sauce.

                                           

1 pound medium shrimp, peeled and deveined (thaw frozen shrimp by running cold water over them in a colander for five or so minutes; I use frozen "Whole Catch" peeled, tail-on raw shrimp)

2 teaspoons kosher salt (or half as much table salt)

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

2 tablespoons chopped garlic (5 or 6 large cloves)

1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika

1 teaspoon sherry vinegar (Vinegar! Not the same as sherry or cooking sherry!)

Chopped flat-leaf parsley

Sprinkle the shrimp with the salt and set aside for 10 or 15 minutes.

In a wide skillet over medium heat, heat the olive oil over medium heat until very hot but not smoking. Add all the shrimp to the pan in a single layer (more or less) and sprinkle the garlic over it. Cook for a minute, then sprinkle in the paprika and cook, stirring, until the shrimp are pink and cooked through--around three minutes altogether. Turn off the heat, stir in the sherry vinegar and sprinkle on the parsley, and serve. Sprinklingly.

A Gift to You, for the Summer

Ready? It's this.


I have been making all my summer to-go drinks this way for years, and it just occurred to me to share it, because reusable to-go options can be so cheerless and/or toxic. Not this one, right? It's a large Luminarc glass with a lid, like these (if you don't want so many, look around: it looks like you can buy individual glasses, but the lids you have to get in packages of 6 I think) and a glass straw, like this. (Wow, there are now tons of glass straws online, I see. These were the cheapest I could find in a quick search, though there are some truly lovely ones. Also stainless steel straws. We've broken only two of our four glass straws in six years, which seems pretty good, considering that we have tile floors.) It's all machine-washable. No. That's not right. Dishwasher-safe. And eco-friendly and exciting to drink out of. The only problem is that they're too big to fit in a cup holder--but hey, if having too much iced coffee is a problem, I must love problems. Oh, wait, I almost forget: use an x-acto knife to make a small x in the middle of the lid to poke the straw through. It still manages to be amazingly leak-proof and durable: I've been using mine this way for years, and I can still use the lid for other things (needless to say, these glasses and lids are also a favorite way to store leftovers).

Meanwhile, incredible smoky, garlicky shrimp are here.

Have a wonderful week, and please do stay tuned: I'm going to be doing a massive board-games round-up soon! The fun is more or less nonstop.

We Have Another Trio of Winners!

Thank you again for playing. I so love reading about what it is you want--I feel like the book equivalent of a drunk, wanting to buy another round for an entire bar-full of strangers. "Maybe I should honor *all* the requests!" I exclaimed, and Michael raised his eyebrows. Okay. Maybe not. But giving away books is starting to feel like a vocation. (I'll just have to brainstorm ways to make money at it. . . )

SeeTryFly who, wanted a Robert Saduba pop-up book; I am sending you this. (Which looks so cool and beautiful)
Alissa is getting this. (Which I use every day.)
And Allyson is getting this. (Which is on my wish list too!)

Please email me your address, and I will get those books right into the mail.

Over at family.com, meanwhile, there are pork chops and energy bars. Pawk chahps en enijy bahs.

And here at home there are these (sigh)


And these (sigh)


And also these hirsute children.



Sigh. Have wonderful week!

xo Catherine

More cookies, more books

The flowering of our dogwood plunges me into existential angst: Really? It's been a whole year? I despair over time's fleetingness, everybody's sandals pulled out and outgrown, everybody's front teeth like enormous Chicklets, the violets nodding purplely away: "Yes, yes, the years are flying by." Oh, spring! I love it so much despite my bittersweetness about everything.

Meanwhile, over here, at family.com, I have a recipe for chocolate chip cookies made with all whole wheat flour, and they are simply the best chocolate chip cookies I've ever made. Also, there has been some commentary prompted by the word "log." Our own BillyJoe is back in action! Phew.

The cookies are from this beautiful book, and, speaking of revenue-generating links on amazon: it's time for another book give-away! That's right. You know the rules. Post over at family.com, if you're able (aren't I strict? but please. . . ) and then come back here and leave the name of the one book you most want in the comments (comment only once, please). I am going to pick three winners at random and send them the books they picked. I'll post the winners next Friday (April 23rd). If there's still money left after that, we'll do it again. I suppose you oughtn't enter if you've already won.

But here's another little gift: learning to love you more. Given that this website has already started, turned into a book, and concluded, it seems that I am late to the party, the guy already out in the driveway with his push broom sweeping away the cocktail napkins and magnolia petals, but no matter. It is a strange and moving and inspiringly beautiful website. I am slightly addicted.


Have a wonderful weekend, dear ones. xo

A Few Foolish Ideas

Do you need just one or two more tricks to play on your kids?

Try this "Chore Camp" brochure from FamilyFun. Oh we got Ben so bad with this. "Wow," we said. "This seems so different from the online description. . . " "Yikes," he said. "It really does." I love this quote: "My favorite part of camp was when we got to clean up the mess that the kids in the other camp made while cooking smores." Brilliant.

Or this letter, adapted from FamilyFun:

Bwa ha ha ha. Or this "milk" adapted from the twisted recesses of my own brain.



Dissolve 1 packet of plain gelatin in 1/2 cup boiling water (stir until it's really dissolved), then stir in 3/4 cup milk, 2 tablespoons sweetened condensed milk, and 1/2 teaspoon vanilla. The kids loved it. Besides that it looks exactly like real milk, and so is an excellent trick, it also tastes a lot like panna cotta (crossed with a Jello Jiggler), and so is an excellent treat.

Have you played any good tricks yet? Or been tricked? Michael served me a steaming cup of "tea" that was actually hot water, milk, Diet Coke, and Jack Daniels. Yowza.

Meanwhile, in case you have some matzoh left over, this recipe is INSANE. It is so good it's criminal. Seriously. Toffee Buttercrunch Matzoh. Here. In fact, you should buy matzoh specially and make this, it's that good.

Also, I have an essay over at Brain, Child.

And we're going to do another book give-away next week. Stay tuned! And send me pictures of yourselves with your won book, and I'll post them here!

Happy Passover. Happy Easter. Happy Spring. Happy Life. xoxo

We have a winner!

Or 3 winners, to be precise. Thank you random number generator! Though I will say it is strangely terrible not to be able to send you all the books you want. What wonderful desires you have. I have a new reading list.

AndieD: Healthy Bread in Five Minutes a Day (which I am going to borrow from you)
Wendy: Making More Plants: The Science, Art, and Joy of Propogation (which I am sending you used because it is $250! Ha ha.)
Laura S: The Wind's Twelve Quarters

Please email me with your mailing addresses, and we will get these books on their way. Plus, I think there will be enough money left to do this again! Should I just pull from here, or should we redo the contest from the start? I can't think clearly.

Meanwhile, fish with brown butter. Also, shoes with brown butter. And cat with brown butter. I am planning to put brown butter on everything I own.

Have a lovely weekend.

xo

Hello, dear blogamists!

Besides the incredible nick-of-time arrival of spring--birdsong, twilit dinners, crocuses, bare-legged children, heaven--lots of other stuff has been happening around here.

Birdy, for example, is heading off to college.

Have fun, sweetie! Use the generic brand of Monistat! Text me!

("I know what kind of cake I want this year!" she announced months ago. "A frog pond with lily pads!" 2 boxes of lime Jell-o, 1 bag of gummy frogs, and 1 flower candy mold later: voila. "You should totally pitch this to the magazine!" she said, and I just might.)

Craney, too, is growing--though he doesn't seem to realize.


And Ben! His hands have gotten so big, he keeps--yowch!--poking his thumb through his ear.


Meanwhile (natch) I've been cooking up a storm.

There is a super-spring recipe for asparagus that is almost literally irresistible. The smell of the butter browning will make everyone in your whole zip code salivate.

And that yummy, yummy coconut chicken soup you order at the Thai restaurant you like? You can make it yourself and it's delicious.

But are you here for the next give-away? Of course. I understand. To recap: when I recommend books here, and you click the links and go to amazon, they give me a small percentage of the money you spend on that visit, regardless of what you buy. It comes in the form of store credit--so let's use it! But first, a few questions.

Who bought Footloose the 25th Anniversary Edition?
Who bought the Holy Bible on Kindle?
Who bought the Blind Melon album?
Who is going to Europe and bought all those travel guides?

I love, love, love that they show me all that! Don't worry, though. I don't know who you are. (Except you, with all the exercise bands: they told me your name. Just kidding!)

This is a simple give-away: leave the name of the one book you most want in the comments (comment only once, please). I am going to pick three winners at random and send them the books they picked. I'll post the winners next Friday. If there's still money left after that, we'll do it again.

Have a wonderful weekend, dear ones. xoxo

And the winner . . .

of this lovely book
is

"lastdogz said...

The best advice...to sing to your child. I was told that singing improves your child vocabulary, and I have to agree, I feel like my 2.5 year old son has a great vocabulary. But more than that, I love singing with him just for the joy of it. I love that he doesn't care if I screw up the lyrics or sing off-key. He asks to sing all the time. It's just such a simple pleasure, so basic. I didn't, however, realize how awfully morbid all the old folk songs I grew up with really are. Check out the full lyrics to My Darling Clementine sometime.
I just posted my first ever comment on family.com. I'm greenmombr there."

Plus, doesn't that happen to be excellent advice? I actually do know the lyrics to Darling Clementine. "Dreadful sorry." Yikes.

Thank you for posting so thoughtfully. Did you get a chance to read through? What an amazing mix, right? It's interesting, too, the split between "take care of yourself" and "take care of your kids." Both important, certainly. I've been thinking recently something along the lines of "Make sure you're raising people whose company you enjoy, since you're going to spend a lot of time in it." I should have entered my own give-away!

Thank you all so much. And lastdogz, would you please email me your address?

I was actually thinking I'd take a picture of the on-line random number generator to show you--but I couldn't get up and get the camera (see reason below), so I thought, "Oh, I'll just use photobooth on the computer!" Um, yeah, Cath. Great idea! Like the computer version of trying to see your own eyelid. Instead, I took a photobooth picture of my great and furry encumberedness.

For a good soup recipe and an excess of self pity, please see my latest posting here.

And come back soon. I'm going to do another book give-away--a book of your own choosing--to use that Amazon credit we all generated here with those awesome book links.

Have a fantastic weekend! xo

Hiding


Where's Craney?


Where's Daddy?
(Note: Michael was playing motel-room hide-and-seek with the kids--and it took them strangely long to see him there.)

Where am I?

Buried in slush. Playing Rummikub. Working hard. On a two-night vacation. Eating Trader Joe's chocolate-covered pomegranate seeds. Reading this book. Watching figure skating. Not sleeping. Cooking, of course:

Here's a recipe for one of those crazily addictive iceberg-wedge salads with blue cheese. Yum.

And one for soft pretzels, which are fun to make--and make a great and nutritious snack for kids, especially if you use some whole-grain flour.

But speaking of the two-night vacation: I networked in the hot tub with a couple of beautiful, amazing women, including Tara Keppler, who co-wrote this book: food for thoughtful parenting: 12 must-have lists for new parents & young families. It's such a lovely book--beautifully designed, clean, small, and full of the kind of compassionate wisdom that can turn your day around. Plus, Tara's own children are so incredibly kind and confident that you know something is going really well in that house; Birdy fell completely in love with them.

Tara gave me a copy to keep and a copy to give away. And so I'm going to do that right now, here. If you can, comment for me over at family.com first (I really appreciate that), then come back here and write the best piece of parenting advice you've ever gotten. I'm going to draw randomly--but I thought that might make it more fun. I will pick a winner a week from now. Thank you for playing along, dear ones. xo

p.s. I'm going to add a few little extra top-secret things to the winning package.

Every time I go to update the blog, the cat has doubled in size again. Which means that I should update more regularly. Next time I write he will be the size of a large pony.

Meanwhile, recipes. I don't know what to say about these empanadas, except don't make them when you have people coming for dinner or you will have none left. There's my generous thought for the day.

This walnut-orange cake is delicious, and made with olive oil, which is an easy and wholesome way to bake a cake.

And this roast chicken is simply an excellent, basic roast chicken recipe. The skin becomes golden and crisp, and the meat is fragrant and juicy. Although I confess to being one of the only humans on the planet that likes dry chicken. I realize that it's more of a moral failing than a simple quirk.

I am thinking about Valentine's Day, which is a holiday that I love. Maybe because it's fun and pretty, with none of the make-good-memories-or-die pressure of the December holidays. Today I made Valentine's in Ben's classroom, and he was actually mildly embarrassed by my singing of Frank Sinatra songs to get the kids in a romantic mood. Only mildly, and only briefly, since he couldn't resist singing along. He was also mildly embarrassed by the giant book of stock art images I'd brought for the kids to cut up: acres of Renaissance-era nudity and medieval hell-type shenanigans. And, finally, he was mildly embarrassed when I spilled glue on my pants and said, "Oh, crappity crap." At least I didn't say "shit"! Until a minute later, when I *did* say it. Oh well. At least I didn't say "fuck"!

Hello! I have wanted to write with the links to new recipes on family.com.

But then Birdy was home sick all week. The poor girl had to spend all day every day with her cat. Misery all around.



Oh right. But the recipes.

These, for instance. Which are, apparently, lemon *squares*, not lemon bars (thank you for your corrective emails). In my cookbook, the recipe is in my mother's handwriting but is called "Robert's Lemon Bars." My brother works 16 hours a day and still finds time to make lemon bars. You do the math.

And this. Which is rated NC-Carnivore, if you catch my drift, you vegetarian sweethearts out there. But I cried again a little, just now, looking at the pictures.

And this. Which might seem silly--who needs a recipe for hot chocolate? But if you aren't making it with real chocolate, I encourage you to try it. I don't even really like hot chocolate? But this I like.

A couple other things. Books. Who recommended Without a Map here? Man that was a killer good book. And I am about to finish Tracy Kidder's Mountains Beyond Mountains, which is about Haiti and Paul Farmer, and which is so good I wake up at 4 in the morning to read a few chapters. If you are in need of inspiration, I can't think of a better way to get it.

Randomly, some PR people sent me a giant box of Cabot cheese and a giant box of Olivia's Organics salads. I don't usually do promotional pitches here, but I had to laugh because we already buy and eat both Cabot cheese and Olivia's Organics salads. So I thought I'd say: they're both good. There. Now I can gorge guiltlessly on cheddar and arugula.

Enjoy your weekend. And please keep the book recommendations coming. There's no better midwinter tonic than a great read.

I will write a real blog update soon. But if you're thinking about Haiti, and I know that you are, I wanted to mention that Partners in Health seems like a fantastic organization, and might be a good place to give money to, if a relief donation is something you're able to consider. Tracy Kidder has written about them, both in his book, and in tomorrow's Times. I know that resources are tight, but all those photographs in the newspaper--those faces devastated by grief and pain and fear, all those kids--really focus my perspective. You know what I mean. xo

Stuffed

Hello, dear ones! Have your holidays been marvelous? Ours have been. Except for the overeating. I go on a clementine fast every day after dinner and it lasts all the way until morning. But somehow it's not getting the job done.

These recipes--beef stew and no-knead bread--are the least of my worries, in some ways. What with my mother's melt-in-your-coronary-artery linzer cookies. And our friend Jonathan's roasted pork. And my potato-fennel gratin that absorbed a shameless entire pint of cream. Sigh. But that stew is nice and regular, if you need a break from holiday feasting. It's not dietetic or anything (unless you serve it at a diner inside a cantaloupe half with a scoop of cottage cheese), but it's straightforward and excellent. And the bread? Try it. If you haven't tried no-knead bread before, try it. Try it even if you have. I have tinkered and tinkered, and it is a near-perfect recipe. Let me know how it goes, okay?

And thank you so much for the book recommendations. Given that a bunch of you mentioned it, I rushed out and got The Glass Castle, and it totally blew me away. I could not stop thinking or talking about it, and now Michael's reading it too--just to spare himself, I think, from my overstimulated nattering. Thank you, too, for your enthusiasm about the books I mentioned. Thanks to our dear old BillyJoe6666--who told me about it--I recommended them via an amazon account that gave me credit for your purchases, so I thought that, once they send me the credit, we could do a little give-away of favorite books here. Stay tuned!

Have a joy-filled New Year. I leave you with another holiday-card out-take. "Just go ahead get it out of your system," I said. And so they did.

And a sleepy cheers to you, from the babiest of babies:

Angels We Have Heard on High

Can you believe we're already seven sausage slices into December? What? You don't have a salami advent? Us either. Alas.

But boy am I getting into the holiday spirit. Which you will see over at family.com if you read only about the eggnog cheesecake bars and skip the whole lice episode. Or kale slaw! I know! Festive or what? The column seems fixed now over there, so hopefully it will be updating regularly.

Meanwhile, I don't always understand the way it works, this receiving of gifts, but I wanted to thank you. I asked about great websites for kids, and your suggestions have been utterly fabulous. "Wow," Ben said. "These people really *know* me." I feel the same way. Already he's played Bookworm on popcap, a bunch of games on that sweet Orsinal site, something on the Vancouver 2010 site, and some strange car-crash thing on the edheads site. He has many more suggestions book-marked too--oh, and he completed the dance-mat typing lessons on the BBC, which we all loved. It's been so great to look with him at these tried-and-true favorites of yours. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

In return, I am offering a holiday gift-book round-up. Some of these are books that I have mentioned so many times that you'd think I'd be over them by now--but I'm not, apparently.

For instance

I know. I have been talking about Children Just Like Me for, like, a hundred years. But it's such an incredible book, the way it shows kids from over the world--their schools and houses of worship, their homes and pets and favorite toys and meals--and it prompts loads of conversation about sameness and difference, about privilege and hardship, without ever bonking you over the head with a moral hammer. We still read it all the time, and it would make a great gift for any child up to the age of 10 or 11 or so. But I'm warning you: the kids in the book are so beautiful that you will be a little bit heartbroken.

Okay. Jame's Herriot's Treasury for Children is another book that I can't say enough good things about. Did you ever read his vet books for grown-ups? You might think you don't want to hear about this tweedy English guy pushing his gloved hand into the yonis of various birthing farm animals, but actually, you do. Nevertheless, this is a collection of his gentlest, least gynecological vet stories, and they're beautifully illustrated. Plus, a) there's a Christmas story about a cat and, b) you get to read the dialogue in a heavy cockney accent. You know. If you want to. We have given it as a present to many children, and everybody loves it.


Now, Christmas Tapestry I have to mention because we read it every year, and every year it makes me cry, and every year the kids say, "Oh, Mama, this book makes you cry every year!" and yes, it does. It's kind of heavy--we used to edit it a little when the kids were younger--because it refers briefly to the Holocaust (though not in very specific terms), but it is the most devastating and romantic fantasy about restoration and reunion that I can imagine. Also, a good mix of Jewish and Christian stories.

Okay, those are my recommendations for children. Though I also wanted to mention a few chapter books. The Children of Noisy Village, which Beck once recommended to me right here, and which we loved: it's by Astrid Lindgren (Pippi Longstocking), and it's a collection of rustic little tales of old-fashioned daily life in Sweden; think Little House on the Prairie, only with less death defiance and more lutefisk. Also The Great Brain series, which I loved and devoured as a ten-year-old, and then ten-year-old Ben loved and devoured 30 years later (annoyingly, they don't seem to exist as a boxed set). And The Famous Five series by Enid Blyton, which my ten-year-old mother loved and devoured and then, many, many decades later, her ten-year-old grandson loved and devoured (annoyingly, these also don't seem to exist as a boxed set in this country, though I was able to order one from the UK to send my nephews in Geneva. Shhhh.).

Those are my picks for kids. And for grown-ups:


My mother and I love, love, loved the novel Brooklyn, though my father did not. Maybe it's more of a women's kind of book? But Colm Toibin is a devastatingly fantastic writer, and I have loved all of his books. This one is worth reading if only for the most harrowing sea crossing you can imagine. Also, because it too is like Little House on the Prairie, only set in an Irish immigrant neighborhood in Brooklyn in the 1950s. If you can picture.


But maybe you wanted to give that special someone not a novel but a book of odd, melancholy drawings. Principles of Uncertainty, by the incomparable Maira Kalman, is one of the strangest and most beautiful books I have ever held in my hands. She is heartbroken and filled with gratitude all the time--a stranger's earnest fur hat can bring her to tears--and her grief-filled joy is always pitch-perfect. Always. I am giving this as a gift.



Or did you want to give a book of poetry? True, the white cover is not showing up very excitingly here, but Evidence by Mary Oliver is full of her stunning, grateful observations of love and the natural world, along with the the kinds of lines ("Tell me / what is it you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?" is not in this book, but it could be) that have been changing lives for as long as she's been writing.


Or do you know someone who loves to cook? Local Flavors is a cookbook that I read cover to cover, like a novel. It is beautiful to look at, and full of fresh, delicious farmer's market recipes that are so sparklingly good you won't even miss the bacon. Also: grape chiffon pie. I just love her for having that recipe.

Please feel free to add more in the comments here about what you've been reading/loving/giving as gifts, book-wise. I am always so thrilled about your advice.

Meanwhile, I hope you are thriving and louse-free. xoxo

Cranberry Sauce

Oh, happy Thanksgiving, dear ones! I am thankful for your company on this journey. So, so thankful. I am also thankful that I decided not to make sweet potatoes this year. Just like that. "I'm not making sweet potatoes," I just said to Michael, two minutes ago. And he made a sad face. Too bad. He can be thankful that I've made them so many times before! Oops--that wasn't a very thankful thing to say, was it? No. It wasn't.

And will you be thankful for my recipe for cranberry sauce? Maybe. But only if you didn't already buy canned. It's fine to buy canned. Be thankful that you did.

I am also thankful for Mr. Outtakes.


Oh he sure likes to insinuate himself into photographs, that Flattypants Cat of ours.


Although this sad little scene I couldn't even blame on the cat.


Are you thankful that you didn't have to clean my stove top? I know I was! Ha ha. Thank you, Michael. I owe you.

Next week I'm going to offer some book and game suggestions for holiday giving--to grown-ups and kids both. And I'm wondering if you might offer me some advice: Ben is getting a little bit of computer time, newly, and I'm wondering about some great sites for kids. Mostly he plays little games on the American Girl site, and they are quite benign ("Fun for girls!" he likes to read from the banner, in his wry way, before playing). But do you have any thoughts about other fun games he could play? Cool things he could look at? Thank you. Thank you.

Thank you!
xo

Well, hello there! How did it get to be the second half of November? Birdy just now said to me, "Wow, soon it will snow because it will be December!" And I said, "Uh oh." "What is it, Mama?" "I have to go order a turkey." This part of the year crashes in like a sleeper wave, and I will pop up in January, gasping and exhilarated and happy to be combing the seaweed out of my hair.

Meanwhile, as the weather cools, there is my world-famous (okay, at least 3 or 4 of my friends make this) instant oatmeal recipe over at family.com. And then there is the buttermilk birthday cake, which is up though not posting on the homepage. In it you get to ogle many parade-float style cakes we've designed over the years.

And did you want to see how the carnival fortune teller answered Birdy's question, "Will I go to college?" I like how her New York accent breaks through on the word "chariot." The funniest thing was how few of the kids realized that they actually *knew* her. "I do!" they'd cry, baffled and thrilled. "I *do* have two older brothers!" Or, even the kids she didn't know: "I am! I *am* kind towards animals! How did you know?" Eet voz a lucky guezz.

Edited to add: I thought it was so obvious, but before anyone says anything awkward about the fortune teller, I wanted to give you a hint that I'm in this video. And I'm not the one filming it.

Hi guys! For some reason the new column is posting on the home page this week. But you can find it here, where you will see many frightening things there. The specter of tooth decay! A wild beast! Roasted cauliflower! But you won't see this. Birdy's Charlotte in her Halloween bunny costume. Enjoy the rest of your week. And don't make me tape a paper carrot to your face.

Oh, you are lovely. You are. Thank you for your kindness, and for offering me the comfort of being known. How sweet that is. It is indeed a sad and reflective time.

Which may explain the French fries over at family.com. For some people, comfort food is oatmeal and scrambled eggs. For others, it is salty grease. Hello!

And meanwhile--the crackers! Who knew? I read other people's food blogs, and it's all, "These look great!" And "Thanks for another super-duper recipe!" But if you think that for one second I would trade your frank crankiness, merciless teasing, or grumpy skepticism, then you really don't know me. I do love you. (Not that I don't love you when you're appreciative too, of course!)

xo

[Edited to add: That's a sad Birdy after she did her own crown tattoo and didn't realize she was putting it in her hair. I just thought that picture so perfectly conveyed the way I feel sometimes.]

We have a cord of wood waiting in the driveway. We will stack it and then we will burn it. Every year, at this moment, the wood strikes me as a metaphor, even though it just is what it is. "It's like a cord of wood in your driveway," I say to Michael, metaphorically, and he laughs. It's work and it's warmth and it's the season changing. It's wood in the driveway.

A childhood friend died suddenly--a person who was vital in every sense of the word: he was healthy, a community activist, the father of a 6-year-old and a 1-month-old, a husband, son, brother, friend, wildly beloved by everyone who knew him. I had the opportunity to grieve with old friends, to be inspired, to let gratitude and sadness and fear wash over me in alternating waves. I wish I'd understood better that knowing him was the opportunity of a lifetime. I wish that loss were not so firmly barnacled to love. I wish that time would pass more slowly. I wish, I wish, I wish. But I want for nothing.

I am at it again, this heartbreak of mine. And now there's this kitten in the mix. "He's getting so big!" I said last night, with tears in my eyes, and Michael kissed me.

There he is. With his brother Ben, who turns ten on Friday. What the?

Meanwhile, there are recipes up at family.com: The Soup of 1000 Vegetables, which offers some of my old-school self-flagellating melancholy along with a really good pot of soup. Hurray! And Homemade Fancy Crackers. Yes, it's crazy to make your own crackers, but you'll never go back.

Sending love to you, here from this cold and golden world.