Food writing

Well, my friends, what you have here is a bunch of cookbook covers--some twice or more for reasons I don't understand. I finally did drag them to the appropriate places, but I can't figure out how to get rid of the extra jackets at the bottom. It's very late, and I've been to a party, had a bit of wine, and am too tired to deal with it. So please ignore the extra jackets at the bottom. I'll figure this out another day.

As I said yesterday it was time to update my web page. Since my writing career is pretty static now, except for projects in process, I don't have much  reason to update--but I figure I can at least change the recipe page. This time I didn't write recipes--I wrote about books on food I've enjoyed lately. And I'm being lazy and copying the update here for a blog post. Maybe this will send some of you to my web page--http://www.judyalter.com. I'd love your comments.

Right now, I’m reading The Art of Eating In by Cathy Erway (New York: Penguin, 2009). A youngish career woman in Manhattan decides to give up eating in restaurants or buying takeout for two years—this in a city where eating out is the lifestyle. She began with a blog, “Not Eating Out in New York” that is still up and running and offers all kinds of sub-sites to explore. The book is not just a collection of blogs, but a chronological following of the development of her experiment. When she first started a friend sent her a recipe for squash biscuit. It called for yeast. She didn’t know what yeast was. I can’t tell you much more than that, because I haven’t gotten very far into it. But the narrative is charming and honest, and there are enough recipes scattered throughout to keep cooks happy.
A book I bought for the title: I Loved, I Lost, I Made Spaghetti, by Giulia Melucci ((New York: Grand Central Publishing, 2010). Giulia takes us through several of her romances—she too is in Manhattan—and the things she cooked for the men in her life. Lots of recipes here, some from her Italian background, some even garnered from boyfriends’ families, some from friends. I photocopied a lot for my own recipe collection, from simple tomato sauce and pasta for two to angel hair pasta with asparagus and her father’s rather unusual minestrone. But it’s not all Italian—there are recipes for meat loaf, pumpkin bread, “unforgettable halibut,” “frugal frittata,” farfelle with zucchini and egg, pork teriyaki, a cosmopolitan collection. Along the way the reader follows Giulia’s unsuccessful relationships with guys that will make most of you want to say, “Ditch that loser!” In the final chapter, after the departure of the last boyfriend, she turns to pasta, confessing that she never made pasta from scratch—and she delves into that subject. Giulia Melucci may not be much at romantic relationships (I’m still crossing my fingers for her), but she’s a great cook and a good writer.

A book that made a lasting impact on me was Jam Today: A Diary of Cooking With What You’ve Got, by Tod Davies (Exterminating Angel Press, 2009). I must have flagged at least fifteen pages with cooking ideas (there are few recipes, just descriptions) and given ten copies of the book as Christmas presents last year. Davies has an undeniable advantage over most of us: her vegetarian husband has a bountiful vegetable garden, so she can simply walk into the garden and see what looks good that night. She’ll mix whole wheat pasta with butter and shredded cheese and then add bits of whatever cheese she has on hand—Morbier (fat and creamy), Gorgonzola, Parmesan, some Salem Blue. On the side that night she had a sliced tomato that she salted, covered with rocket (a leafy green with a strong flavor) and spritzed with lemon—she let that marinate while she fixed the pasta. How about a meal of eggs poached in a roast tomato/chipotle chili sauce, black beans refried, and avocado/jalapeno/cilantro/scallion lime salad? She describes how to cook one of my favorites: beets with greens, served with vinaigrette. Eggs scrambled with cheese and white wine, put on baguettes, and baked in a skillet till the cheese melts. You get the idea—simple, no-fuss cooking.

Hard thoughts on writing, some memoirsand some critters

If you follow this blog at all, you probably know I am about 12,000 words into a mystery. I keep putting it aside for other things, even while I read all those posts on the Sisters in Crime and AgentQuest listservs about persistence, keeping after your writing, writing is hard work, etc. As I sit at my desk, trying to drum up free lance projects which require more research than creativity, thoughts flit through my head about that mystery--how to toughen it up, make it different from the thousands of cozies editors see every day. And then I go back and rewrite that first 12,000 words. It occurred to me yesterday that I am running away from the hard work of writing, looking for the easier, distracting chores. I used to know a historian who said, "A page a day is a book a year." Some days I'd do six or eight pages, and then coast on my laurels. But I think I'm going to go back to Don's advice--I'm going to write something new on that novel every day. You see, last night I rewrote again--the characters keep taking firmer shape in my mind, which occasions all that hard rewriting. Even now I've thought of something I didn't rewrite last night and have to, if things are going to work out the way I think they will.
Right now I'm reading a book with a wonderful title: I Loved, I Lost, I Made Spaghetti. The recipes are good, basic Italian, and I'm enjoying it. Author is Giulia Melucci. Just finished It is Well with My Soul, the autobiography (with a co-writer) of 106-year-old Ella Mae Cheeks Johnson, the first black woman to receive a masters from Case Western Reserve University (in social work). It's a good lesson in communication and parenting--words are everything.
Critters: Yesterday morning I glanced out the front door and saw something with a long hairless tail scooting across the porch. Having been invaded by rats a couple of years ago, I was really apprehensive. It proved to be a possum--I think that's who's (or what's) eating Scooby's food when he doesn't. Later when I went down the driveway I saw that the possum had a buddy. I'm not much on judging the size of possums, but I thought these were young. My neighbor said he had no idea either. When I was unloading groceries later, one came quite close to investigate. I shooed it away gently--what would I do if it got into the car to investigate my groceries? I know when cornered they can be mean, so I surely don't want to corner these.
I finally found a reasonable bird feeder that looked squirrel proof and hung it in the yard yesterday, but so far no birds.
But I had a cat underfoot all day. My fussy eater smelled the chicken I was cooking and would not get out of my way. Finally I put a few scraps in her dish and poured a bit of broth over it. She lapped it up, but today I was cooking vegetables--not her deal at all--and she was still underfoot. If I wanted her in the kitchen, she wouldn't deign to be seen there. "Dogs have masters, cats have staff."
Good dinner tonight with company--my successor as director of the press and his wife. We had wine and salmon tartare on the porch--hot as it's been, there's a nice breeze. But we decided dinner indoors would be better because of the noise of the traffic. My cold supper was a hit--the chicken loaf was good as was the roasted vegetable salad. Nice company, a pleasant evening.