Cookbooks, fair weather, and a sad day

Today I spoke to the PEO chapter to which I belong--because my mother was a dedicated PEO in Chicago, North Carolina, and Fort Worth. The meaning of those initials is secret, but my dad always claimed it stood for "Poor Emancipated Oldsters." For those who don't know, it's an international sisterhood devoted to education for women. Chapter G in Fort Worth invites me to talk about books every so often--sometimes my own, sometimesTCU Press books. Today it was Cooking My Way through Life with Kids and Books. At Christmas, my brother gave me a copy of the cookbook our mother edited for the hospital auxiliary at home--it has, for one thing, my first bit of publication, a recipe for a hot garlic/cheese dip. The cookbook was all handwritten, in the hands of various contributers, so there was my fairly childish signature, "Judy MacBain." Mom had a lot of recipes, plus many of my distant aunts in New York "contributed" recipes in her hand. And then there were various cooking hints from Penelope Jones--who knows where she got that name? Anyway, I took that cookbook today since many of the members remember Mom, and one gave me a picture of Mom and two others taken in the early 1980s. Made me sad, because Mom was still herself then--she looked bright and pretty and with it.
The talk was, I guess, a success--the ladies talked a lot, some remembering Sunday night dinners at my house, one asking how  how my brother was. It sort of became an old-home week for which I had to apologize to the group at large, but they found it interesting. I only sold three books--and of course I wasn't smart enough to take along my cookbook business cards. But I had a good time visiting with old friends (literally and figuratively) that I hadn't seen in a long time. (I don't go to meetings.)
As I left one woman said to me, "It's such a nice day. You should put the top down on your car." And I did just that, driving home through the park, letting the wind blow my hair any whichway.
Tonight Jacob was supposed to stay with me, but he got sick at school. So I'm devoting the evening to organizing tax information for my accountant. I could be working on the blurbs for those two unwritten books and on adding to the two pages I have written on one (all wrong and will need revision) but I know that is still rolling around in my mind and I'm letting it simmer.
It's been a day of bad news: my good friend Gayla, from Texas A&M University Press, has been in Missouri visiting her brother, and he died in the early morning today. My first thought was the Lord sent her up there are the right time--she meant to go earlier but snow and impassable country roads kept her in Texas, and I also thought her brother was hanging on to see her.  She was sobbing when I talked to her but seemed to have plans in her mind. I'll probably see her late in the week when she comes through Dallas on her way home. And then Betty emailed that she was taking her husband to the ER because of chest pains that began Wed. night--apparently they didn't call the doctor until this morning and didn't hear until early afternoon. So I'm hoping to hear that he's all right. It's hard  enough to wrap our minds about the troubles in the world, particulary Haiti--though a few good stories are beginning to come out of there. Wish I was young enough to adopt an orphan and also to adopt one of the eleven lab puppies someone found abandoned on a roadside (I got email pictures of them today and they're adorable!). But when trouble hit close to home, as it has with several dear friends in the last few weeks, it's doubly hard.

Whew!

Tonight I entertained eight or nine contributors to the book Grace & Gumption. It was billed as a reunion, but we talked a lot about the forthcoming cookbook, on which they are all working but are almost all late.It's amazing how these ladies can talk--three or four conversations at once and all interesting. I did something I rarely do--went and put in my hearing aids so I can hear what was going on. One of the earlier contributors dropped out, and her replacement arrived quite late with a laughing comment about "How to make a good first impression." Then everyone fired suggestions at her. The talk is always about new discoveries about the history of women in Fort Worth, research sources, and such. Fascinating and intellectually stimulating. I serve wine and make an appetizer, and everyone that can brings an appetizer. Those that come straight from work are excused, but we always have plenty. Funny how this group has bonded--but nice.
Earlier in the day I was supposed to meet a friend for lunch. We talked early in the morning, and I said I'd call her when I could get away from the office, probably about 11:30. Called at 11:35, no answer; called several times and thought maybe she had misunderstood and was waiting at the restaurant, so I went over there. Scanned the room and didn't see her. So I waited, ordered a sandwich to take home, and when she hadn't come by the time I got it I came on home. The phone was ringing, with Jan saying, "I'm at Carshon's waiting for you." I told her what happened and turned around, brown bag in hand, and went back. We had both been there at the same time, not seeing each other, and the staff, who know both of us, hadn't put it together. So we had a late but pleasant lunch.
I am so encouraged about things I hear about the forthcoming Obama administration. George Stephanopoulus (oops, George, I may have spelled your name wrong) said we have never in our lifetime (well, mine is longer than his) seen a cabinet of such intellect and knowledge put together so early. And another commentator--I forget who--said that what distinguishes Obama is intellectual curiosity whereas President Bush never wanted to do homework, study issues or have briefings. He wanted to act on instinct without knowing the facts. I think it's Obama's intellectual curiosity that most gives me hope.
Back to the cookbook, which I am still editing. I know I mentioned Jacob's school picture, but I can't resist adding it to the blog. I don't believe at all that it means that he'll be a cook like his Juju. It means someone dressed him in an outfit, but it's so cute--and contrary to his usual personality, he looks so solemn. The weight of the culinary world on his shoulders.

Thoughtful talk

Tonight eleven women met in my living room for a happy hour/work session. We were talking about the book to which we'd all contributed, Grace & Gumption: Stories of Fort Worth Women, and the book with which we plan to follow up in a couple of years: Grace & Gumption: The Cookbook. The talk and the exchange of ideas was lively, and I marveled at how freely we threw out thoughts. One woman wondered if the description she had of how to butcher a deer (1850s chapter) was too graphic, and we assured her not. Another moaned that her women--all philanthropists--didn't cook; they had servants to do that. At the end of the evening, we were all excited about the project and filled with ideas. We'll meet again in several months to exchange information found.
One contributor suggested that we were defeating ourselves--we had done the book to showcase the accomplishments of women, outside the home, and now here we are, putting them back in the kitchen. But a chorus countered that idea. Said one, "Women need to take back to the kitchen. Now it's cool for men to cook, but demeaning for women." Others of us insisted that was what women did--they accomplished outside the home, and yet they kept the home running smoothly and the family fed. And some of us, me included, insisted that cooking was a relaxing avocation. It will be interesting and fun to see how this book goes together.
And speaking of cooking, Saturday night I had a delightful dinner party. I served buffalo meatloaf (made with the heartiest recipe I know--with ketchup, mustard, onion, celery, etc.) and cooked in a skillet in the oven, along with an Italian veggie recipe I had seen Michael Chiarello do on the Food channel, and my standard blue cheese salad. My guests raved, though one said he thought I needed practice on my Toll House pie and he'd be glad to test for me. But good as the food was I was more impressed at the conversation. I sat at the table as we lingered over dessert and silently marvelled at how wonderful it is to have friends who have thoughtful and intelligent discussions about things that matter. One of our number is an Episcopalian priest and his wife is deeply involved in the crisis that is tearing that church apart in our diocese, the others of us are struggling with matters of faith, so there was a lot of religion talk, a smattering of politics (we were all in agreement), a bit of light-hearted banter. It was a soul-satisfying evening.
The weather has brightened, and so has my mood. It wasn't sunny today, but it was warm and didn't rain, a mixed blessing--we need the moisture but that cold rain can really dampen spirits. At least mine.

Cookbook daze

Today I heard from the publisher of my cookbook, and she suggested that it would be in print in the spring of 2009, possibly the fall of 2008. Of course, I pushed for fall, pointing out that I would market it strongly as a Christmas gift and suggesting a huge autograph party for which I would cook recipes from the book. She was enthusiastic, so I'm on pins and needles to see what will happen. But tonight I'm deep into working on it--the editors suggest it needs to be about 50 pages shorter--believe me, that's a lot of my golden prose to cut out! And it needs a new title: The Faux Gourmet doesn't do it for marketing, they suggested.
So my editor, Carly, asked me to ask blog readers for feedback: if you have title ideas for a book about a single mom cooking for kids, while writing and publishing books, I'd love to hear it. Not a gourmet cook but one who approaches the kitchen with enthusiasm and a sense of adventure, and one whose friends think she's a gourmet cook--they just don't know the definition nor the fact that gourmet cooks don't used canned soup or canned tuna.
The other question to ask your opinion on is regular binding or spiral? My instinct is for spiral, but Carly suggests that if she uses a spiral-bound cookbook much it gets nasty stuff stuck in the binding. Since all my well-used cookbooks are spotted and stained, I don't see that as much of a problem--but it may be. So please let me hear from you.
I know that there are more than two readers of the blog, because the other day a woman I'd never met was in my office to talk about a local history she wants to compile. And she definitely got on my good side when she said, "I love your blog." How to win a writer's heart!
Great day today. Deborah Crombie, author of eleven mysteries set in England and featuring Scotland Yard detectives Duncan Kincaid and Jemma James, spoke at a Pinkbag luncheon on campus. I got to play hostess and introduce her at the luncheon. I was of course prepared to be intimidated by a successful mystery writer whose books are sold in eight or ten countries, but she was charming, unspoiled, a lot of fun. And her talk was lively and interesting--with some insights into writing. If I ever have time to get back to trying a mystery, I may take her advice about plotting different story lines and seeing how they all go together. But right now I have no time for mysteries.
Tonight my friend Betty and I had a nice, lazy relaxed supper at a local bistro--a shared platter of tapas, a glass of wine each, and sinfully rich chocolate mousse for each of us. Perfect end to a nice day, although the day had its frustrations--I just won't go into that now.