What did you cook today?

Sundays always bring out the cook in me, or maybe weekends do. Last night I fixed one of my favorite meals--stir-fried asparagus, onion, mushrooms, and tomatoes (you have a huge plate of vegetables before you know it). Took them out of the pan and sauteed bay scallops, with nothing more than salt and pepper. I used to add soy or lemon or something to them, but they are so good just by themselves. Ate the whole huge plate and loved it.
This morning I made a do-ahead dish to take to Sue tonight at her new house. She had thought her kids would be with their father, but they weren't, and I had only brought two servings of a veggie dish they probably wouldn't like. I sauteed a bit of thyme (too little), a bit of red peppr (I'm very cautious with crushed red pepper but even I admit I could have used more), onion, and capers--in retrospect I would do the spices and capers first, then add the onion because it releases liquid. When the onions were soft I added some diced, cooked potatoes (I had fried them for extra effect but it got lost in the final dish), a can of fire-roasted tomatoes, and a can of artichoke hearts. I didn't know if fire roasted meant spicy or not, so I tasted them before I cooked the red pepper. But I really couldn't tell much difference between them and diced tomatoes in sauce. Anyway you cook this a bit and then can refrigerate until serving time.
At suppertime, make wells with a spoon for two eggs per person and break eggs into the wells. Bake at 375 for 12-15 minutes or until eggs are set as you want them. Sprinkle with Parmesan and serve. It ended up being the kind of dinner you soak baguette slices in to get the last of the juice--really good, very tomato-ey.
Sue has done a remarkable job in 24 hours of making her house liveable. It's bigger than her house next door to me (which is good with one teenager and one about-to-be) but she has room to buy furniture, which makes me a bit jealous. I occasionally see pieces I'd like to have but there's simply no room in my house. Sue's new house is a 1940s model (I think that's what she said) so it lacks the charm of her 1920s house by me but makes up for it in many other ways--space, a family room, a huge deck out back, a large room she can use as an office, and a much bigger kitchen. She'll settle in, get into a routine, and be very happy, though I'm sure we'll continue to see her.
My main accomplishment for the day was not culinary. It was getting the edited Trash History manuscript, with notes and captions, off to the publisher. Not that I don't have a lot of projects on my desk, but this one was huge, and I was pleased to get it off.
I'm going to read a mystery and worry about the othr projects tomorrow. Maybe Trash Hisstory has put the Gone with The Wind philosophy in my mind.

Marathons and Scotsmen in kilts

Today was the 31st annual Cowtown Marathon, which I heard on the radio is one of the largest mutli-race events in the country (that means they have the marathon, a half-marathon, a 10K, and various other assorted races for kids, etc.) What is means to us in Southwest Fort Worth is that it messes up traffic. I got away relatively lightly--slid down a back road on my way to Central Market only to discover that for two blocks it was part of the race. Cops let me go through with a caution to go slowly,which I did. But I could see that I couldn't come home that way (road was blocked going the other way) and University Drive, the main thoroughfare I was avoiding, was a parking lot. Coming home, I cut through a shopping "village," and then on to University, just after the point where the runners were crossing. A policeman waved me through, and it was smooth sailing. Jeannie, though, said she was trying to go home from Hulen and went on so many side streets, she doesn't even remember where she was.
The Cowtown is more than a nuisance to me--it's a sentimental trip back in time. In the late 70s, a group of doctors, physiologists, and who knows what used to meet in my living room to talk about establishing an Institute of Human Fitness, promoting a healthy way of life, and running (my ex was a big runner--but that's another, not always-happy story). At the time a friend was living with us, and she and I would be in the kitchen, making the richest, fanciest desserts we could imagine--I particularly remember Ann's Italian cream cake. Those health and fitness freaks would scarf it down! But it's always fun to say the marathon began in my living  room.
I called my friend Charles this morning to reminisce, and he verified the origins. The first T-shirts had a runner named Cowtown Charlie, which was, of course, Charles--though my ex liked to think because of the mustache it was him. I still have one of the T-shirts, tucked away somewhere. The first marathon was in 1979, and Charles and I talked a bit about those days. Colin would have been ten, Jordan just four,and I am amazed to think that while I worked publicity for the event (I loved being in the midst of things), I let them wander the area around the North Side Coliseum, where among other threats there is a river. What was I thinking? I wouldn't let me grandkids do that today for all the tea in China. But the kids loved the day--and so did I. The first year the weather was all sleet and snow (I won't repeat what Joel said when he heard the sleet hit our roof) but he left early and I drove the kids up there in that weather in an old Cadillac I was then driving. Amazing! I told Charles it made me nostlagic, and he admitted to the same feeling but reminded me, "What's done is done"and I added  "and certainly for the better."
On the way home, having successfully avoided the traffic jams, I cut through Forest Park and came upon a groups of Scots, in kilts, practicing I don't know what but it looked like something for the Highland games. I couldn't stop and gawk, much as I wanted to, but one glimpse reinforced my belief that there is nothing sexier than a Scotsman in his kilts. The only thing missing was a bagpiper.Thrilled my Scottish blood.
Spent the rest of the day mired in the manuscript I'm editing, Trash History: Discoveries of an Accidental Historian. It mostly has to do with Civil War, Custer, Bonnie and Clyde, and the Alamo, but it is a charming fun book and an especially illuminating look into re-enactments. Note to non-fiction authors: avoid those blasted embedded notes. They're driving me crazy! I'll finish it tomorrow and email everthing to the editor at Texas Tech Press. Note to most readers: buy this book when it comes out next fall. It's really fun!

Snow--and history

This is my house after anywhere from seven to nine inches of snow--my neighbor took this early in the morning. The airport reports slightly over 12 inches, with a year total now of over 15 inches. We broke all records, but as Sue said any of us northerners nostalgic for snow ought to now remember how much trouble it is. Trees were down all over the neighborhood--my neighbors lost an old cedar, and my youpon is bent double--don't know if it will recover or not. I think it's because ours is an old neighborhood, and the trees are old.

I was snowbound for the second day, thouogh someone came to talk to me about a possible publishing project this afternoon and Jacob is spending the night, so I'm not as isolated as I was yesterday. Still I'm going to the grocery tomorrow (if Christian walks me to my car) and will be glad to get out.

Many of my neighbors were out in the snow.The boys across the street made a giant slingshot to catapult snowballs (their parents may have nixed it because I didn't see it long, but the boys were out all day doing varioius things). Sue was shoveling the walks and digging out her car. This afternoon I saw a young mother skipping down the middle of the street that deadends into my house; she was followed by a young child who couldn't quite skip but was trying. It made me nostalgic because I used to skip and play in the snow with my children but now they're too old--and so am I. I wish I had the confidence and balance to frolic in the snow once again.

Meantime I was in the house editing a manuscript called Trash History: Discoveries of an Accidental Historian, by Monte Akers. It's sort of an autobiographical wandering through American history, with chapters on Little Big Horn and and San Jacinto, both of which I know something about, and a lot about the Civil War and re-enactment, where I'm on shakier ground. (I'm editing for writing not accuracy, so it's okay and I'm learning a bit--there's so much to know about the Civil War and its battles, and Akers has done a good job). He has a theory that the current divisiveness in our country is reminiscent of the great divide after the Civil War, worse than that after Vietnam or Watergate or the impeachment of President Clinton. He is passionate about the need for healing that divide. I like his politics a lot, and I like his writing style--it's slightly ironic and satiric and he's not afraid of poking fun at himself (he does it often) but he is deadly serious about history, artifacts, politics, and honor. Look for it from Texas Tech Press in the fall. If I had to spend the last couple of days inside, working on this manuscript was a good way to do it. Actually I've been working on the manuscript for over two weeks, and tomorrow I hope to send it to the author for his reaction to my edits. I really love some of the work that comes my way.