The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate

I've spent this cold, rainy afternoon curled up with this book, and what a treat. You know the old adage about not judging a book by its cover? Well, while in the more abstract sense that may be true, when we're talking about literal books and their covers, I must confess myself entirely guilty of discovering some of my favorite books entirely based on the cover artwork. It's crossed my mind that I may be incredibly shallow, but so be it. In any event, this book was no exception. I've always taken a fancy to silhouettes, so when I saw this book at the library, I just had to check it out. And I haven't been disappointed at all. This is a children's book, so it's been a quick, easy read, but absolutely brimming with life and joy. Calpurnia Tate is a little girl growing up in Texas. The year is 1899, she is eleven years old, and the only girl in a family of rowdy, rambunctious boys. The story follows Callie through the year as she develops a close relationship with her grandfather, an avid naturalist. It reminds me of my own girlhood exploits "studying" various bugs and animals. Unfortunately, my intense interest in the natural world didn't last as long as it might have. I don't know how much of it has to do with the fact that girls' aren't really encouraged to pursue interests in math and science in traditional public schools (I think this is slowly changing for the better), or simply the fact that my natural inclinations ran more along the literature/history path, but by high school, I had pretty much abandoned any interest in a microscope. Still, this book rekindled an enthusiasm for that sort of thing, leaving me actually wanting to break out some field guides and learn more about the grandness of the natural world all around us, if only to be able to answer at least some of the questions I know Kate will soon pose. Truly, a beautiful book.

On an only somewhat related note, this story (and that picture!) make me happy.

A Book for A Rainy Day

Oh dear. What a weekend of ups and downs! Bad news first. Two pretty major unforseen technological problems: Thursday night my laptop crashed and died and then on Friday, when he was ready to leave the office, Mark's car wouldn't start. So in addition to quite a bit of inconvenience this week, we also now we have some pretty hefty repair bills to look forward to. Oh well. I suppose, in the grand scheme of things, if a problem can be easily fixed with money, then it's probably not such a serious problem after all. We're all healthy and happy, so we'll just be thankful for that. :)

Plus, there were some very good things about this weekend too. For one thing, Saturday heralded in the official arrival of spring, and what an absolutely gorgeous day! Bright sunshine, gentle breezes, dandelions and daffodils peeking up to say hello. Just perfect. And even though I didn't get to go to the Asheville Artisan Bread Festival, as originally planned, what with the car fiasco and all, I did get in some quality front porch time. We had our first "wing ding" of the year Saturday night. We invited my parents, grandmother, and sister and brother-in-law over for grilled chipotle glazed chicken wings and (this is the best part) the first batch of homemade ice cream of the year! The ice cream machine hasn't been out of the shed since the maple ice cream extravaganza of October, so it was pretty exciting. We made strawberry, with some of the last frozen strawberries from last year, and each bite tasted like spring!

The weather turned on Sunday, gray and gloomy again, and there are rumors floating around again about snow in the higher elevations, but I'm choosing to ignore them. It's overcast and chilly today too, and what with Mark having to take my car to work, we're sort of stuck at home. But fortunately, I'm completely engrossed in the book I'm reading right now: Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. At first I was intimidated by the size of this book. There was a time when big, hefty books were the norm in my world, but ever since Kate was born, my novel reading has taken a back seat. But this book is simply fantastic! If Tolkien and Jane Austen had teamed up to write a book, the result might have been something like this: full of magic and fantasy, but also charged with wry humor and social comedy. I stayed up way past my bedtime last night, reading "just one more chapter" until I could barely keep my eyes open, and reluctantly went to bed.

Artsy Hijinks

I thought I had seen every Audrey Hepburn movie ever made, but while browsing through the Netflix Instant plays the other day, I stumbled across this film. What with all my years of Audrey idolization, especially during high school and college, I can't believe I missed this! Mark and I watched it last night, and what a treat! Peter O'Toole is dashing and Audrey is lovely as ever (only she can transform a pink nightgown and black rubber rain boots into the epitome of chic). Their zany foray into the world of high brow art collectors (and forgers!) is fabulous, and definitely a film we will watch again and again.

And on a somewhat related note, I came across this book during a lazy afternoon bookstore browsing session the other day, and was intrigued. The art world has always just seemed so glamorous; it would be interesting to read an insider's perspective. I didn't buy it then, but it's definitely on my ever growing list.

Last Days of Winter

More snow this week. I suppose you could say that March came in like a lion, which leaves me hopeful for the whole easing out like a lamb at the end of the month. We'll see. In any event, snow in March is not so bad. In fact, it's much easier to enjoy it because there is a definite light at the end of the tunnel, which is not the case in January or February when winter seems dark and endless. Plus, this weekend is supposed to be gorgeous, in the 50s and 60s.

Today is Kate's Kindermusik class, and after that she is having a little friend, Molly, spend the day with her. I'm looking forward to it, because Molly is a real sweetheart. Her mom and I went to both high school and college together, and I used to work with Molly's dad. I'm a wee bit nervous though, because, well, two toddlers!

This weekend, we're headed down to stay with some friends in Lenoir, NC. Patrick and Kay put on the yearly Caldwell County Traditional Music Showcase (a consistently amazing show!), and after the show they always host a big soiree at their lovely home. It's one of those pickin' parties that last until the wee hours of the morning, if you can make it that long (which I rarely do).

I'll leave you with a few things catching my fancy lately:

• Kate and I made these granola bars yesterday and oh my! They're rather homely there on the plate, but they taste delicious! I've made my own homemade granola for ages now, but until yesterday had never tried to make actual bars. Well, they were quite a success, albeit more squares than bars. Still, yummy and portable. For the three cups of fruit/nut mixture, I used: 1/2 cup wheat germ, 1 cup almonds, 1/2 cup chocolate chips, 1/2 cup dried cranberries, and 1/2 cup of coconut.

• I read this book, Girls Like Us, a few weeks ago, and never got around to posting about it, but it was exceptional. It's a bit hefty, but reads quickly, much like a novel, and the lives of Carole King, Joni Mitchell, and Carly Simon certainly provide a wealth of fascinating material. Besides being a simple biography of these three women, the book is really a sort of social history of feminism and what it meant to be a woman during the tumultuous years of the 60s and 70s. I found Joni Mitchell the most intriguing, although not always the most likeable, and watched this documentary after reading the book. It's available on Netflix instant play, if you're interested.

• We've been led (okay, pushed might be more like it, by a very strong willed two year old) into the realm of kid's music lately, and to save our sanity, have been seeking out adult friendly kid's music. I'm sorry, but I do not allow obnoxious purple dinosaurs into my home. We just wanted music all of us could enjoy. Elizabeth Mitchell is one of the first such artist's I discovered, and both Kate and I love her! The whole sound is mellow, folky, and acoustic, but very kid (and adult!) friendly. I've spent a lot of time perusing her website, and that of her adult indie band, Ida. I LOVE her independent record label's manifesto. A great NPR interview can be heard here.

Apples for Jam and Food Photography

Lately, I’ve been reading cookbooks like they were trashy romance novels. I mean, who cares about burning loins when you could whip up an apple stuffed pork loin roast , and Danielle Steele can just keep those heaving bosoms, thank you very much, I’m lusting after sparkling ginger chip cookies.
One of my favorite cookbooks of late is Apples for Jam, by Tessa Kiros. Seriously, who could resist this cover? Just look at those red shoes! Red shoes are one of my obsessions, so any thoughts of not judging books by their covers just flew right out the window when I saw this. And thankfully I wasn’t disappointed. Apples to Jam is one of the most gorgeous cookbooks you’ll find. When I was finished flipping through the book, there were about 50 post-its sticking out where I’d marked recipes I wanted to try. Like meringue with strawberries and chocolate or vanilla cake or honey cake! Can you tell my sweet tooth rules the roost around here?

As yummy and delectable as all this sounds, the main thing that sets this book apart from similar cookbooks is the photography. Using whimsical props, gorgeous color (I forgot to mention that the entire organizational premise of the recipes is based on color, how cool is that?), and super close-ups and interesting angles, Tessa Kiros not only has me itching to tie on my apron and get in the kitchen, but also encourages me to get better acquainted with my camera.

Food styling and still-life photography is not something I ever gave a lot of thought to before I started frequenting cooking blogs. After seeing such pretty pictures as this, or this, or this, I thought, well, that looks like fun, I'll give it a whirl. Well, turns out, taking a good picture of food is definitely not as easy as it looks. I quickly discovered that there is a true art form to it, as well as a lot of technical know how (about lighting, shutter speeds, etc.) that I didn’t have a clue about. Not to mention the infinite possibilities in Photoshop, about which I only know the tip of the iceberg. Well, I still don’t have a clue, but it’s something I’d like to explore. I know there are oodles of online tutorials, or maybe I might even take a spring semester class at our local community college. And, ever the bookworm, here are a few books on the subject I’m thinking about ordering:

A few of my favorite cooking blogs, where gorgeous food photography (and brilliant writing!) abounds!

Tartlette
Smitten Kitchen

101 Cookbooks

Orangette

What are your favorite cookbooks or cooking blogs?

A Homemade Life

I knew Molly Wizenberg and I were kindred spirits when I tallied up 5 separate and distinct recipes for banana bread on her fabulous cooking blog, Orangette. My personal favorite is the chocolate chip banana bread, which actually isn’t on the blog, but in her book, A Homemade Life. I read this book over the summer, not knowing that a “cookbook” would evermore be present in my list of favorite books of all time. Seriously, it’s that good.

First of all, it’s only a cookbook in the sense that it includes some absolutely fabulous recipes. But more importantly, it’s a deeply personal story of Molly and her family, told through memories of food and table. The story is not especially unique (therein lies a big part of the charm), but it is warm, generous, heartfelt, funny, and infinitely moving. Molly’s writing style is what really sets this book apart. Yes, all of our stories could probably be told through food, but few of us could tell them as compellingly as Molly. I could read this book over and over again, and probably will.

I’ve also become an avid reader of Molly’s monthly column in Bon Appetit magazine. These blueberry oat scones are scrumptious and I too, now consider myself an apostle of kale!

Laura Ashley Book

I've only owned one piece of Laura Ashley clothing in my adult life. It was a gorgeous Edwardian style burgundy velvet dress, long and flowy with an empire waist, luxurious velvet covered buttons and an intricately crocheted ivory collar. I found this treasure at my local thrift store, and remember looking around furtively wondering why no one else had already scooped it up. I carried it to the counter, paid the lady my $3.00 and scurried out as quickly as I could, half fearing someone would run me down and say it had all been a mistake and that dress wasn't for sale after all.

Well, I hoarded that dress away in my closet and pulled it out on Christmas Eve. I twirled around in the mirror feeling like a character in a Jane Austen novel (Elizabeth Bennet, of course). And then my husband walked in. "That's a really pretty nightgown," he said. It was 5:00 in the afternoon and we were on our way to Christmas Eve dinner. My bubble was officially burst.

I haven't felt the same about Laura Ashley since then, because although I would never have admitted it at the time, that dress really did look like a very pretty Edwardian nightgown that some romance novel heroine would run around dark, damp castles in. It's the type of thing that looks stunning in the glossy, highly stylized editorial pages of magazines and advertisements, but doesn't translate that well to real life. Or at least my real life.

Still, I saw a blurb about this book in this month's issue of Country Living, and was immediately intrigued. Just look at that cover shot (top photo)! So impractical (seriously who could ride a bike in that dress!), but so beautiful and romantic. And that's what Laura Ashley's vision was all about: not practicality and real life comfort and ease (how boring is that?), but rich textures, soft, romantic ruffles and pleats, and the blurred edges of an ideal bucolic existence.

The story behind the brand is the subject of Martin Wood's new book. Laura Ashley: the woman from Wales who started her fashion empire designing scarves at her kitchen table and grew into an international sensation that would touch every element of style, from her signature blouses and dresses to rustic, romantic home decor. The book features an impressive collection of photographs both from the company archives as well as the family's private collection.

Reading.....Flapper

I just finished this book, and WOW! I absolutely loved it. The book centers around the concept of the "flapper," but really is more of a comprehensive social history of modern culture. Before I read this book I mostly associated "flappers" with superficial things like glamorous 20s fashions, bobbed hair, and the Charleston. The ostentatious rebellion present in this new method of dressing and behavior didn't really resonate with me until I read this book. Although I think it's fair to say that every generation feels a tension with their parents' generation, the chasm between Victorian values and the advent of the modern world was much greater than that between, say, me and the baby boomers.

Zeitz structures the book around some of the more prominent individuals of the decade, including:

F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald

Lois Long

Coco Chanel

Louise Brooks

Although I've always been intrigued with the Roaring Twenties (who isn't?), after reading this book, I'm looking at that era of excess and indulgence in a somewhat darker light. Basically, we have the 20s to thank for the pervasive mass consumerism of our culture. It was at this time that Madison Avenue advertising executives transformed the flapper into a caricature and turned from advertising based on objective, factual information to advertising based on the concept of selling a dream or a lifestyle. It was also in the 1920s that the homogenization of American culture began in earnest, as farm girls in the midwest learned to emulate big city styles and mores. Unique regional values and traditions started to slip away thanks to radio, advertising, and the advent of silent films, leaving a culture based on pipe dreams and credit. As with any form of progress, it seems we often merely trade one set of problems for another.