Are there no Moravians in the Moon, that not a missionary has yet visited this poor pagan planet of ours to civilize civilization and Christianize Christendom?
-Herman Melville
White Jacket (1850)
-Herman Melville
White Jacket (1850)
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Friday: Happy Birthday, Mom!
After my brother called me the other night, I started brainstorming something special to do for Mom's birthday. When she turned... well, a certain age... we took that number and filled a little book of that many things we love about her. My brothers sat with me in a closest in the condo we were renting in the mountains with our parents and wrote out things we love about our mother...
Another year we made a collage on which we wrote things that are beautiful about our mother on "petals" and arranged them into a picture, then framed it. She hung it in the laundry room... I guess she spends enough time cleaning other people's underwear that she needs a reminder that she still loves her family... or at least that's why I'd hang something like that where I do chores.
Mom is the best with birthdays. When I was younger, she used to wake me before school with a candled cupcake and sing softly the Happy Birthday song. She always asks for birthday lists, even now, because she wants to make sure she gives you something you want (this is both thoughtful and insecure... she doesn't always believe that she could figure out what you want... even if she knows you better than you know yourself). As we grow, wherever we feel our friends or dates or whoever are failing us, she steps in. As an example, I had this boyfriend one year who knew about the Sarah Brightman concert for a month or two, but made no attempt to buy tickets (her concert was scheduled right around my birthday if not on the actual day). Mom bought me two tickets... she strongly suggested I take Anya or someone else, but I went with my boyfriend.
She was right. I should have taken Anya...
Anyway, it's tough to think of something for her. She is rarely as willing to make a list for us as she is to insist that, even into our late twenties, we should prepare our wants to present to her.
I talked with my brother and a handful of others and I'm planning a group activity for the family while up in the mountains that might turn into a decent keepsake...
It's hard to give gifts to adults who don't give themselves the time of day to figure out what they want... they spend all their time taking care of other people...
You are loved more than I can ever say, Mom. No one puts up with people like us and still loves us after so many years. I can't get but so mushy... it's just a blog for gd's sake... but remember that you are one of the very few people on the planet I trust more often than not.
Happy Birthday, Mom...
Another year we made a collage on which we wrote things that are beautiful about our mother on "petals" and arranged them into a picture, then framed it. She hung it in the laundry room... I guess she spends enough time cleaning other people's underwear that she needs a reminder that she still loves her family... or at least that's why I'd hang something like that where I do chores.
Mom is the best with birthdays. When I was younger, she used to wake me before school with a candled cupcake and sing softly the Happy Birthday song. She always asks for birthday lists, even now, because she wants to make sure she gives you something you want (this is both thoughtful and insecure... she doesn't always believe that she could figure out what you want... even if she knows you better than you know yourself). As we grow, wherever we feel our friends or dates or whoever are failing us, she steps in. As an example, I had this boyfriend one year who knew about the Sarah Brightman concert for a month or two, but made no attempt to buy tickets (her concert was scheduled right around my birthday if not on the actual day). Mom bought me two tickets... she strongly suggested I take Anya or someone else, but I went with my boyfriend.
She was right. I should have taken Anya...
Anyway, it's tough to think of something for her. She is rarely as willing to make a list for us as she is to insist that, even into our late twenties, we should prepare our wants to present to her.
I talked with my brother and a handful of others and I'm planning a group activity for the family while up in the mountains that might turn into a decent keepsake...
It's hard to give gifts to adults who don't give themselves the time of day to figure out what they want... they spend all their time taking care of other people...
You are loved more than I can ever say, Mom. No one puts up with people like us and still loves us after so many years. I can't get but so mushy... it's just a blog for gd's sake... but remember that you are one of the very few people on the planet I trust more often than not.
Happy Birthday, Mom...
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Thursday Kitchen: Sugar and Spice
Stacy and I went to a restaurant near the university in Newport News for lunch yesterday. I think the restaurant itself is an important decision... Particularly for Stacy, this is the middle of you work day, the middle of your work week. You don't want to ruin the excuse to get out of the office with a lousy lunch.
Neither of us had tried Sugar and Spice, a Japanese place located in this general living space for college kids. Alongside it one can find a Tropical Smoothie Café and some other little foodie spots. This is always a risk... here you are on your one break for the day... this could be surprisingly good or impressively bad. But, whatever it is, it will have the power to dictate how the rest of your afternoon unfolds.
Well, I don't know whether this is a good or bad thing: Both of us noticed upon walking into the restaurant that we distinctly smelled pizza. Aside from the Asian people behind the sushi bar, the bamboo fountain, and little Oriental tea pots and flower art on the walls, it smelled like dough, baked cheeses, and oil. Even the tables were those dinky, plastic-y, red sort of diner furniture. We both had to observe all of Asian clues to convince ourselves that we had not walked into the wrong restaurant.
The menu includes everything you'd think a Japanese eatery should, from what I could tell. However, the way I personally assess a Japanese restaurant is by the quality of their bento boxes and sushi.
For those of you who don't know, the bento box is the greatest lunch option of all time. It is typically a black box or a long tray with compartments. Each compartment contains a little something good to eat. In my favorite box at Soya, the box includes a California roll, entree (I like the vegetable habachi), rice, dumplings, some sort of special salad, and tempura. You still get to start with a soup and a leafy salad. That sounds like a lot, but these a little samplings in little compartments, so, it's more reasonable than it sounds.
At Sugar and Spice, the bento box lunch does start you off with miso soup. I'm sure there is a way to screw up miso soup, yet I, luckily, have never had the misfortune of consuming a bowl. Then the box comes with the salad, tempura, two dumplings, entree, and rice. I ordered spicy chicken since there were no vegetarian options... admittedly, like most bento boxes, the "vegetable" that the chicken is stir-fried with is mostly onions. I love onions... but not so much in the middle of the day. Otherwise, the salad was boring, mostly iceberg lettuce covered in peanut dressing. The dumplings were fine. The tempura was pretty good.
Stacy and I choose a sushi roll to split. My favorite roll at my favorite local restaurant for sushi (Sakura in York County) is the rainbow roll. Three types of fish draped over a basic California type roll (one of them being my favorite fish... salmon... Mmmm...) and at Sugar and Spice, the fish are mackerel (I think), salmon, and tuna. Verdict? I have most certainly had better.
That aside, the service was timely, the people friendly enough without bugging you every five minutes with the Barbie or Ken smile asking you how everything is as if they care, and the food is not inedible. Stacy and I decided that we're not in love, but we don't hate it enough to not lean on it when we want to grab lunch quickly without settling for fast food or a sandwich joint. What can be said for the lunch is that Stacy's company would make any truly lame or completely amazing restaurant the place to be.
Oh well for Sugar and Spice (what a weird name for Japanese restaurant). There are other Japanese places I haven't tried around here... either there's a reason for that or I'm missing out on some local treasures. Sushi has not been the same since Morimoto's, but I would never turn down a boat at Sakura.
To distract myself from salivating at this hour over sushi and excellent bento boxes, I'll contemplate this cake Anya helped me and John make for Mom's birthday... Shh!
Neither of us had tried Sugar and Spice, a Japanese place located in this general living space for college kids. Alongside it one can find a Tropical Smoothie Café and some other little foodie spots. This is always a risk... here you are on your one break for the day... this could be surprisingly good or impressively bad. But, whatever it is, it will have the power to dictate how the rest of your afternoon unfolds.
Well, I don't know whether this is a good or bad thing: Both of us noticed upon walking into the restaurant that we distinctly smelled pizza. Aside from the Asian people behind the sushi bar, the bamboo fountain, and little Oriental tea pots and flower art on the walls, it smelled like dough, baked cheeses, and oil. Even the tables were those dinky, plastic-y, red sort of diner furniture. We both had to observe all of Asian clues to convince ourselves that we had not walked into the wrong restaurant.
The menu includes everything you'd think a Japanese eatery should, from what I could tell. However, the way I personally assess a Japanese restaurant is by the quality of their bento boxes and sushi.
For those of you who don't know, the bento box is the greatest lunch option of all time. It is typically a black box or a long tray with compartments. Each compartment contains a little something good to eat. In my favorite box at Soya, the box includes a California roll, entree (I like the vegetable habachi), rice, dumplings, some sort of special salad, and tempura. You still get to start with a soup and a leafy salad. That sounds like a lot, but these a little samplings in little compartments, so, it's more reasonable than it sounds.
At Sugar and Spice, the bento box lunch does start you off with miso soup. I'm sure there is a way to screw up miso soup, yet I, luckily, have never had the misfortune of consuming a bowl. Then the box comes with the salad, tempura, two dumplings, entree, and rice. I ordered spicy chicken since there were no vegetarian options... admittedly, like most bento boxes, the "vegetable" that the chicken is stir-fried with is mostly onions. I love onions... but not so much in the middle of the day. Otherwise, the salad was boring, mostly iceberg lettuce covered in peanut dressing. The dumplings were fine. The tempura was pretty good.
Stacy and I choose a sushi roll to split. My favorite roll at my favorite local restaurant for sushi (Sakura in York County) is the rainbow roll. Three types of fish draped over a basic California type roll (one of them being my favorite fish... salmon... Mmmm...) and at Sugar and Spice, the fish are mackerel (I think), salmon, and tuna. Verdict? I have most certainly had better.
That aside, the service was timely, the people friendly enough without bugging you every five minutes with the Barbie or Ken smile asking you how everything is as if they care, and the food is not inedible. Stacy and I decided that we're not in love, but we don't hate it enough to not lean on it when we want to grab lunch quickly without settling for fast food or a sandwich joint. What can be said for the lunch is that Stacy's company would make any truly lame or completely amazing restaurant the place to be.
Oh well for Sugar and Spice (what a weird name for Japanese restaurant). There are other Japanese places I haven't tried around here... either there's a reason for that or I'm missing out on some local treasures. Sushi has not been the same since Morimoto's, but I would never turn down a boat at Sakura.
To distract myself from salivating at this hour over sushi and excellent bento boxes, I'll contemplate this cake Anya helped me and John make for Mom's birthday... Shh!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Wednesday Valuables: Guarding the hearts of others
I asked this question of Julie Powell the other night:
She didn't actually answer this question the way I was expecting. I thought there would be another disaster that was disrupting the flow of the book that she might share, but instead, while looking straight into my eyes, she gave me something more meaningful...
She brought up the stories about her friends. Interlaced between the kitchen screw ups and victories are details about what was going on with the people in her life. Most specifically, she mentioned the character of Isabel. This woman divorces her good, loving husband to marry this punk rocker guy she met online. Powell spaces out the details of this saga very well throughout the book leading the reader along her path of frustration and confusion. Why would her friend turn her life upside-down like that? Isabel had it all and she threw it away for some cockeyed fantasy...
...and I think this story remained in the book because it mirrors Powell's crazy scheme. Who could really understand why she would kill herself over cooking French cuisine every night after long days at work, sometimes not eating until 10 or 11 at night? Sounds crazy, right? No short cuts- Powell said she would cook every single recipe and that's just what she did. But, The Project offered Powell a whole new life, something that made it better to get up in the morning... which is eventually what we realize Isabel was doing. Powell admitted even that this man is really terrific and one of the best things in Isabel's life (from the book, "They're so happy it's disgusting, just like Isabel predicted they'd be. You can feel free to hate them, too."). Somehow, the woman knew what she was doing, knew what she had to do, and just did it.
However, Powell's answer to my question concerns just this sort of aspect of her writing. She feels she has learned a new protectiveness for her loved ones. Self-deprecation is no big deal... once you become a public figure, people will love or hate you just for how you do your hair. Talking about people you don't like so much is pretty easy to do, too. But how your friends are portrayed, what people say about them, not to mention looking at your feelings concerning them in print for the world to see... it's a daunting and significant consideration in Powell's writing.
I was satisfied with this since her writing about her friends was a lot of what I liked about the book (and I thought it was painfully missing from the movie...). I connected to her concerns (as well as her friends' concerns about her experiment) and palmed my way through those sections of her book with a sense of knowing...
Being able to write about things like friendship makes you more accessible. We all have problems and worries concerning our friends. We care - it's a natural reaction. But, how much of that is appropriate for the world to see? Not everyone wants to hear how you feel in public print... not everyone wants to be as exposed, as honest, as you are...
I struggle with this, too. I have plenty of things I could write about that I leave out because I worry about how it will make my friends feel... and also because I don't want to put them in a position to be judged. If I were to relay a fight I had with one of them, or talk about something they're doing that I find destructive, other readers might draw skewed conclusions about who these people are. It's not fair to judge people based on one or even two mistakes... our mistakes are ours to make, ours to learn from, and they do not define us...
...but how often do we judge people in novels based on isolated incidents? Obviously in fiction we're often led according to how the author wants us to feel (whether they succeed or fail in presenting a character in a certain way, they are in charge of what we know). But, this is bad training for reality. As I already said, we are not the sum of our bad decisions.
I admire the way Powell managed her discussion of her friends' lives. I think she did a great job of sharing her real feelings initially while talking herself back to reality. She had the courage to say she was wrong about these assumptions... she had good reason to think what she did, but she adjusts her opinion as the evidence unfolds.
She also changed the names... and I guess that helps with the public sense of it, but, if you're the renamed character and you know it, there's still potential for hurt feelings. I change names or purposely do not include them in my own writing when I think this is possible, but, again, my friends will know who is who. Especially in my circle since most of us spend time altogether, this is tricky business whether or not I change their names. Even in my private journal, I leave names out when I need to vent. Though it is not intended for others to read, it is written down, so it's possible that someone will see it someday.
I'm looking forward to Powell's next book. I admire her for doing it... for getting this crazy idea and doing what she really wants to do. She's published, whether you like her or not, and she has a natural talent for humor and storytelling. But, more than this, I want to see this protectiveness in action. I'm curious to see how and if she's changed much about the way she tells stories about her pals.
In my case, I hope I learn some courage to share similar details without encouraging readers to lose perspective. I think it's valuable to discuss our friendships... they are among the most precious things in our world. They do comfort us, but they also teach us the most about ourselves and about the kinds of people we want to be. Sometimes, those lessons come because of our arguments, misunderstandings, or disagreements. Still, great care must be taken to share and defend these precious people...
In any autobiographical writing, there's a great deal of sifting, sorting, and choosing among the details. Not all your memories of the entire year could have possibly made it to the book. I'm curious if there's a story that didn't make it, for whatever reason, that perhaps you would have liked to have included in the story?
She didn't actually answer this question the way I was expecting. I thought there would be another disaster that was disrupting the flow of the book that she might share, but instead, while looking straight into my eyes, she gave me something more meaningful...
She brought up the stories about her friends. Interlaced between the kitchen screw ups and victories are details about what was going on with the people in her life. Most specifically, she mentioned the character of Isabel. This woman divorces her good, loving husband to marry this punk rocker guy she met online. Powell spaces out the details of this saga very well throughout the book leading the reader along her path of frustration and confusion. Why would her friend turn her life upside-down like that? Isabel had it all and she threw it away for some cockeyed fantasy...
...and I think this story remained in the book because it mirrors Powell's crazy scheme. Who could really understand why she would kill herself over cooking French cuisine every night after long days at work, sometimes not eating until 10 or 11 at night? Sounds crazy, right? No short cuts- Powell said she would cook every single recipe and that's just what she did. But, The Project offered Powell a whole new life, something that made it better to get up in the morning... which is eventually what we realize Isabel was doing. Powell admitted even that this man is really terrific and one of the best things in Isabel's life (from the book, "They're so happy it's disgusting, just like Isabel predicted they'd be. You can feel free to hate them, too."). Somehow, the woman knew what she was doing, knew what she had to do, and just did it.
However, Powell's answer to my question concerns just this sort of aspect of her writing. She feels she has learned a new protectiveness for her loved ones. Self-deprecation is no big deal... once you become a public figure, people will love or hate you just for how you do your hair. Talking about people you don't like so much is pretty easy to do, too. But how your friends are portrayed, what people say about them, not to mention looking at your feelings concerning them in print for the world to see... it's a daunting and significant consideration in Powell's writing.
I was satisfied with this since her writing about her friends was a lot of what I liked about the book (and I thought it was painfully missing from the movie...). I connected to her concerns (as well as her friends' concerns about her experiment) and palmed my way through those sections of her book with a sense of knowing...
Being able to write about things like friendship makes you more accessible. We all have problems and worries concerning our friends. We care - it's a natural reaction. But, how much of that is appropriate for the world to see? Not everyone wants to hear how you feel in public print... not everyone wants to be as exposed, as honest, as you are...
I struggle with this, too. I have plenty of things I could write about that I leave out because I worry about how it will make my friends feel... and also because I don't want to put them in a position to be judged. If I were to relay a fight I had with one of them, or talk about something they're doing that I find destructive, other readers might draw skewed conclusions about who these people are. It's not fair to judge people based on one or even two mistakes... our mistakes are ours to make, ours to learn from, and they do not define us...
...but how often do we judge people in novels based on isolated incidents? Obviously in fiction we're often led according to how the author wants us to feel (whether they succeed or fail in presenting a character in a certain way, they are in charge of what we know). But, this is bad training for reality. As I already said, we are not the sum of our bad decisions.
I admire the way Powell managed her discussion of her friends' lives. I think she did a great job of sharing her real feelings initially while talking herself back to reality. She had the courage to say she was wrong about these assumptions... she had good reason to think what she did, but she adjusts her opinion as the evidence unfolds.
She also changed the names... and I guess that helps with the public sense of it, but, if you're the renamed character and you know it, there's still potential for hurt feelings. I change names or purposely do not include them in my own writing when I think this is possible, but, again, my friends will know who is who. Especially in my circle since most of us spend time altogether, this is tricky business whether or not I change their names. Even in my private journal, I leave names out when I need to vent. Though it is not intended for others to read, it is written down, so it's possible that someone will see it someday.
I'm looking forward to Powell's next book. I admire her for doing it... for getting this crazy idea and doing what she really wants to do. She's published, whether you like her or not, and she has a natural talent for humor and storytelling. But, more than this, I want to see this protectiveness in action. I'm curious to see how and if she's changed much about the way she tells stories about her pals.
In my case, I hope I learn some courage to share similar details without encouraging readers to lose perspective. I think it's valuable to discuss our friendships... they are among the most precious things in our world. They do comfort us, but they also teach us the most about ourselves and about the kinds of people we want to be. Sometimes, those lessons come because of our arguments, misunderstandings, or disagreements. Still, great care must be taken to share and defend these precious people...
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Tuesday Favorites: Even Daddy would be proud of Julie Powell
At about 8:45pm yesterday evening, I had the luck to shake the hand of Julie Powell.
Julie Powell, author of JULIE & JULIA, came to speak at little old W&M last night. She shook like a leaf but trudged through her speech as only a Julie Powell could. I'd like to recap her talk because she made it easy for chronic, nerdy note takers like me. She listed the top ten or twelve questions that she gets asked nearly all the time:
1. Why did you choose Julia Child?
Powell discussed information that, if you read her funny and heartfelt memoir, you would already know the answer to this question. It must be disappointing for her to walk into rooms of know-it-all 20 year old students and have to answer that question. Anyway, for those of you busy adults with lives who have not gotten around to her book yet, she discovered Julia Child's MASTERING THE ART OF FRENCH COOKING in her mother's cabinet and found its words and strange drawings (diagrams for boning a duck, for example) fascinating. (She also found her father's copy of THE JOY OF SEX with its words and strange drawings fascinating, but, you can read her thoughts on that yourself.) So, this was really just what was available (as in the Edna Lewis or Nigella Lawson books were simply not hanging out in her mom's house when she was picking up things to take on the move to NY). She felt motivated to pick this book up during the year of this cooking experiment thanks to her equal-opportunity eater husband who taught her to be a less picky eater.
2. What is your favorite recipe from MtAoFC?
The answer: Beouf Bourguignon. I can see that. The dish itself is exquisite and just so simple (albeit time-consuming) to make. It's best to make it the night before because the dish tastes better after a night soaking in its red wine and juices. She talks about it in the book with fantastic hilarity... she was preparing this dish the night before an important dinner for the editor who backed Julia Child's cookbook (who, as it turns out, never shows up), but fell asleep while it was cooking and burned it to a crisp... forcing her to start all over again from scratch the following morning.
3. What is your least favorite recipe from MtAoFC?
The answer: Any aspic (meat jello) but, most specifically, cold poached eggs in aspic. Powell said, "Between stewed brains and aspic, I'd take stewed brains... every time."
4. What is the hardest recipe to prepare from MtAoFC?
The second best part of her answer was when she said, "You know, I never thought that I'd end up using the phrase 'boning a duck' so much in my life!" The dish is called Paté de canard en croute which is a whole duck baked in a pastry dough encasing... oh, after you bone the duck. (The best part of her answer: "You know that pastry covered dish at the end of the movie? I made mine just like the one Amy Adams brought out... only I actually ate mine...")
5. Where did the movie fail in particular for you and your story?
The four major things that really got under her skin about the movie are the following: 1) Julie Powell was never the editor of the Amherst College Literary Magazine despite what Amy Adams says in the movie. 2) Julie Powell would never stand in front of a chocolate fountain saying, "Oooh... Chocolate Cream Pie..." 3) Julie Powell avoids Dean & Deluca like the devil, though the character in the movie happily shopped there. If you read her book, you see that she thinks Dean & Deluca is the devil (or, to quote the book, "Grocery of the Anti-Christ"). 4) Julie Powell would never say "The 'F' word"... she would just come out and say what she means!
6. How much weight did you gain during the Project?
"20 pounds - and that's none of your business!"
7. Why did you choose to write a blog about this experience?
Okay. Here's another question that can be answered if you actually read her book. She wrote the blog in 2002. At that time, blogs were not a dime-a-dozen as they are now. It was still a new thing and people were not yet receiving book deals left and right for the rantings they publish on-line for the world to see. It was a suggestion made by her husband to help her hold herself accountable to the project she was using to do something with her life rather than just rot at her desk job. At the time, she figured it would be something only her husband, mother, and brother would be reading. She never anticipated the attention her "year of cooking dangerously" brought forth...
8. How involved were you in the making of the movie?
Not really at all. She had lunch with the "terrifying and prespecious Nora Ephron" who (Get this!) brought in the whole blog printed on pink paper. While Powell calmly said many nice things about Nora Ephron, my wicked hope is that she is about as disappointed with the saccharin, sappy, Sleepless in Seattle approach Ephron puts towards every single film she makes. The rights to Powell's story were bought, she had this lunch, and that was that (well, she has met some famous people here and there, of course...)
9. The depiction in the movie of the call Julie gets from the journalist who tells her that Julia Child hates her is so upsetting... Did it really happen?
Apparently, a lot of people are upset by the lack of a fairy tale kinship between Julia Child and Julie Powell. But, it happened... someone felt the need to inform Powell that Julia Child was less than complimentary when asked about Powell's project. This was naturally devastating to her... and in some ways, it still is. She moves forward, however, unable to change Child's mind... the only person Powell can answer to is herself, and she stands by the fact that Julia Child taught her to cook and gave her a new spark to her existential crisis of a life.
10. Do you still blog?
Not really... she thinks of herself as "someone who blogs" sometimes rather than a real "blogger." It's not really her style. I've visited her original blog as well as her current blog. While we all know what happened with her entertaining and unique first blog, her current blog simply keeps us in touch with what she's up to now, what she cares about now... Life after The Project.
The last FAQ was so disappointing that I didn't bother write it down or commit it to memory... so unoriginal... must be frustrating for a lot of decent writers to answer some of these questions all the time.
After listening to her answer the questions of others, here are my favorite Julie Powell approximate quotes:
All in all, you could see an honest and humble personality at that podium.
I was less humble when I asked my question... particularly on the note that her book (and Julia Child's) is much more interesting than any Nora Ephron movie and that I was pissed about Amy Adams being casted as this dynamic, wild force of a woman. She laughed one of those laughs of relief... as if to say, Someone gets it...
When I finally had my turn to talk to her in line, we joked together about the gaggle of giggling 20 year old kids. Then she signed my book (she's a lefty for those of you, like Daddy, who care about that sort of thing) and shook my hand. I know a real woman when she can shake my hand with the firm hand that Daddy always taught me to extend... I think I'll be mourning the fact that we're not neighbors or old school friends so we can let our hair down and complain out loud... she has a talent for making it a humorous release rather than a bashing session.
I walked away, happy that this event had been suggested to me (and that I went despite my stupid stomach sprain)... and then I read what she wrote in my book and it made the whole evening:
Julie Powell, author of JULIE & JULIA, came to speak at little old W&M last night. She shook like a leaf but trudged through her speech as only a Julie Powell could. I'd like to recap her talk because she made it easy for chronic, nerdy note takers like me. She listed the top ten or twelve questions that she gets asked nearly all the time:
1. Why did you choose Julia Child?
Powell discussed information that, if you read her funny and heartfelt memoir, you would already know the answer to this question. It must be disappointing for her to walk into rooms of know-it-all 20 year old students and have to answer that question. Anyway, for those of you busy adults with lives who have not gotten around to her book yet, she discovered Julia Child's MASTERING THE ART OF FRENCH COOKING in her mother's cabinet and found its words and strange drawings (diagrams for boning a duck, for example) fascinating. (She also found her father's copy of THE JOY OF SEX with its words and strange drawings fascinating, but, you can read her thoughts on that yourself.) So, this was really just what was available (as in the Edna Lewis or Nigella Lawson books were simply not hanging out in her mom's house when she was picking up things to take on the move to NY). She felt motivated to pick this book up during the year of this cooking experiment thanks to her equal-opportunity eater husband who taught her to be a less picky eater.
2. What is your favorite recipe from MtAoFC?
The answer: Beouf Bourguignon. I can see that. The dish itself is exquisite and just so simple (albeit time-consuming) to make. It's best to make it the night before because the dish tastes better after a night soaking in its red wine and juices. She talks about it in the book with fantastic hilarity... she was preparing this dish the night before an important dinner for the editor who backed Julia Child's cookbook (who, as it turns out, never shows up), but fell asleep while it was cooking and burned it to a crisp... forcing her to start all over again from scratch the following morning.
3. What is your least favorite recipe from MtAoFC?
The answer: Any aspic (meat jello) but, most specifically, cold poached eggs in aspic. Powell said, "Between stewed brains and aspic, I'd take stewed brains... every time."
4. What is the hardest recipe to prepare from MtAoFC?
The second best part of her answer was when she said, "You know, I never thought that I'd end up using the phrase 'boning a duck' so much in my life!" The dish is called Paté de canard en croute which is a whole duck baked in a pastry dough encasing... oh, after you bone the duck. (The best part of her answer: "You know that pastry covered dish at the end of the movie? I made mine just like the one Amy Adams brought out... only I actually ate mine...")
5. Where did the movie fail in particular for you and your story?
The four major things that really got under her skin about the movie are the following: 1) Julie Powell was never the editor of the Amherst College Literary Magazine despite what Amy Adams says in the movie. 2) Julie Powell would never stand in front of a chocolate fountain saying, "Oooh... Chocolate Cream Pie..." 3) Julie Powell avoids Dean & Deluca like the devil, though the character in the movie happily shopped there. If you read her book, you see that she thinks Dean & Deluca is the devil (or, to quote the book, "Grocery of the Anti-Christ"). 4) Julie Powell would never say "The 'F' word"... she would just come out and say what she means!
6. How much weight did you gain during the Project?
"20 pounds - and that's none of your business!"
7. Why did you choose to write a blog about this experience?
Okay. Here's another question that can be answered if you actually read her book. She wrote the blog in 2002. At that time, blogs were not a dime-a-dozen as they are now. It was still a new thing and people were not yet receiving book deals left and right for the rantings they publish on-line for the world to see. It was a suggestion made by her husband to help her hold herself accountable to the project she was using to do something with her life rather than just rot at her desk job. At the time, she figured it would be something only her husband, mother, and brother would be reading. She never anticipated the attention her "year of cooking dangerously" brought forth...
8. How involved were you in the making of the movie?
Not really at all. She had lunch with the "terrifying and prespecious Nora Ephron" who (Get this!) brought in the whole blog printed on pink paper. While Powell calmly said many nice things about Nora Ephron, my wicked hope is that she is about as disappointed with the saccharin, sappy, Sleepless in Seattle approach Ephron puts towards every single film she makes. The rights to Powell's story were bought, she had this lunch, and that was that (well, she has met some famous people here and there, of course...)
9. The depiction in the movie of the call Julie gets from the journalist who tells her that Julia Child hates her is so upsetting... Did it really happen?
Apparently, a lot of people are upset by the lack of a fairy tale kinship between Julia Child and Julie Powell. But, it happened... someone felt the need to inform Powell that Julia Child was less than complimentary when asked about Powell's project. This was naturally devastating to her... and in some ways, it still is. She moves forward, however, unable to change Child's mind... the only person Powell can answer to is herself, and she stands by the fact that Julia Child taught her to cook and gave her a new spark to her existential crisis of a life.
10. Do you still blog?
Not really... she thinks of herself as "someone who blogs" sometimes rather than a real "blogger." It's not really her style. I've visited her original blog as well as her current blog. While we all know what happened with her entertaining and unique first blog, her current blog simply keeps us in touch with what she's up to now, what she cares about now... Life after The Project.
The last FAQ was so disappointing that I didn't bother write it down or commit it to memory... so unoriginal... must be frustrating for a lot of decent writers to answer some of these questions all the time.
After listening to her answer the questions of others, here are my favorite Julie Powell approximate quotes:
If you want to be a writer, you have to find what obsesses you and write about it until you are empty.
If my life doesn't suck, what am I supposed to do? As a writer, I think it's good to always be a little afraid of what's next. (Her new book CLEAVING comes out at the end of the year and she's terrified!)
All in all, you could see an honest and humble personality at that podium.
I was less humble when I asked my question... particularly on the note that her book (and Julia Child's) is much more interesting than any Nora Ephron movie and that I was pissed about Amy Adams being casted as this dynamic, wild force of a woman. She laughed one of those laughs of relief... as if to say, Someone gets it...
When I finally had my turn to talk to her in line, we joked together about the gaggle of giggling 20 year old kids. Then she signed my book (she's a lefty for those of you, like Daddy, who care about that sort of thing) and shook my hand. I know a real woman when she can shake my hand with the firm hand that Daddy always taught me to extend... I think I'll be mourning the fact that we're not neighbors or old school friends so we can let our hair down and complain out loud... she has a talent for making it a humorous release rather than a bashing session.
I walked away, happy that this event had been suggested to me (and that I went despite my stupid stomach sprain)... and then I read what she wrote in my book and it made the whole evening:
Monday, October 19, 2009
Monday Review: Wild Thing
(from http://thefilmstage.com)I had to screen Where the Wild Things Are twice to form an opinion... and I have a feeling it's the sort of film that one will want to see again and again to explore another emotion, another cinematic detail.
After two screenings though, there are only two definite things to say:
1. This movie is NOT for young children
2. The director deeply loves this story
If people are disappointed with the movie, I have a feeling it's because the film does not offer much for the attention spans of young children. I heard some restless feet, some inappropriate laughter, and some whispering during both screenings. Rather than taking a beloved childhood story and trivializing its potential, the way many children's literature adaptations to film seem to do, Spike Jonze breathes life into the reality of human emotion... of being trapped in an eight year old state of mind.
(from http://usm.maine.edu)The movie invents a few details to flesh out the adventure... like most adaptations of children's stories, something needs to be added to justify a feature-length film. Spike Jonze's version of the Sendak tale presents Max, the main character, with some motivation for wanting to leave home. He sets up a situation that can be easily recognized: a broken home. Max has an older sister who is heard on the phone with her friends. She mentions she has to go to her dad's later. We never see the dad; only a globe the father had inscribed for Max. Mom is dating again, pulling her already strained time away from Max.
The mother and her son work together seamlessly. She is sympathetic and yet worn to the bone. All her cards are on the table. She loves and knows her son, but struggles with herself and the place to which she has arrived in her life. Catherine Keener portrays a woman who can be seen as every divorced mother you've ever known. Her performance is most moving towards the end, as she has clearly waited for a long time for her son to return home... she looks tired. Through sore eyes she gazes upon her son as if she's trying to make sure he's real... and then he is offered the same dinner you see on his bedroom table in the book. So touching.
The boy casted as Max (Max Records), is truly brilliant. He has more range than most adult actors currently on screen. He demonstrates frustration, confusion, conscience, and the need to feel loved. There is very little dialogue. This little boy carries the feeling of an age, of a time in our lives that we have probably, necessarily, forgotten. That time when we're trapped between the innocence of kindergarten and the foreign language of jaded adolescence. If a child is ever going to win an Oscar for Best Leading Man, it better be this kid.
(from http://moviesmedia.ign.com)He finds a boat and sails for days to a land inhabited by the Sendak beasts. The creatures are truly remarkable. Even if all you see is the trailer, you can see how real these monsters seem. They are huge, they have facial expressions unlimited by the typical hand-up-the-back puppet, they walk, run, cry, and howl. They are hairy and have the damp noses of your domestic beasts like you dog or cat. Not to mention, they are practically identical to the illustrations in the book. The filmmakers took each of the seven creatures from the Sendak tale and fleshed them out with personalities, hang ups, talents, etc.
Each monster seems to hold a piece of Max's personality (save one... I'll get to her). The bull on the cover of the picture book is the quiet, thoughtful, hopeful, brooding side. Judith, the horned-nose creature with an attitude problem, reflects the sad, mistaken, and exaggerated conclusive process children can have concerning their circumstances. Ira, Judith's boyfriend, exhibits Max's creative side, his most constructive imagination. Alexander the goat creature feels the childhood pain of being neglected, overlooked, and left out. Douglass is the voice of reason in the midst of the wildness similar to Max's conscience; the part of him that knows he is very wrong sometimes. And Carol, the most recognizable monster with cat stripes up top and a bird bottom, mirrors Max's unbridled, boy-ish anger, fear, and desperation to hold on to his family.
KW is the wanderer monster. I read several reviews that see her as the mother figure... and I distinctly disagree. She holds her head similarly to the Max's sister and abandons her monster family for new friends on the other side of the island. Carol is very cross about KW's habit to abandon the group... he wants so much for everyone to stay together. He makes weird assumptions about her when talking to Max... he clearly doesn't know her, or understand her, as much as he loves her. Though she has great affection for Max, I don't see her as the mother. She seems to me like Max's opportunity to understand his sister better...
...what seals the deal for me are KW's friends. They are owls that talk in squaks... or at least, that's what the audience hears. More importantly, that's what Max and Carol hear while KW and the other monsters understand their language. KW is in a different place in her life than Max and Carol, just as Max's sister has entered the world of teenaged exploration. Max won't speak this language for another several years.
The fort the monsters build is amazing. I don't know whose idea it was to make these nest-like houses, but they are gorgeous. Carol's model of the world he wishes he could build, where all his monster family would live and remain together, is equally beautiful. He and Max are driven by the same need for security when they agree to work with the other monsters to try and build this ideal Carol-world.
Things, of course, cannot work out the way Carol and Max imagine. They can't force people to agree, to want what they want, to need what they need... realizing this brings about the only obvious departure from the book, in my mind. In the book, he is playing a part and feels that the monsters don't love him as his mother does, so he goes back home to the smells of good food and that sense of security only Mom can offer. In the movie, he is playing a part in a fantasy world that won't bring him the happiness, the family, or the permanent attention that he thought it would. He sees value in the mother and misses her, but I think he also sees that this eight year old rumpus can't give him what he wants. I think he learns some acceptance, gets a reality check, and gains some humility. He doesn't have the answers, the method, and he's just going to have to hang in there.
(from http://genedeitch.awn.com)...you can tell he loves this story. Apart from honoring Sendak's simple story and memorable illustrations, he derives from it some human truth. He captures a universal trial in the lives of us all.
You want to know the point? I had to see it twice to get it, but I think the point is, when you're a child, even if you misbehave, act out of your frustration, and make others mad at you, it's okay to be eight...
This movie is beautiful. Don't take your three or ten year old, but it's beautiful. An honest and loving exploration of child psychology...
"I'll eat you up; I love you so..."
(from www.zap2it.com)Sunday, October 18, 2009
Sunday Reflections: Practice what you preach
Well, of all the stupid things I have done in my brief time on the planet, I'm particularly impressed with myself this week. After talking with our family doctor, I have apparently sprained my stomach muscles.
Okay. A little more specifically... FMS patients are prone to muscle pains as it is, and even more so to spasms. I used to have spasms in the back more frequently than I do now. The yoga largely keeps that under control. But, on Friday evening, I let my blood sugar drop before practice. For anyone, this puts you in a bad place. Your muscles will resist any pressure you put it through. So, this combined with the intense cold weather that came out of nowhere (or from Louisville maybe... Thanks, Tristan... keep your nasty weather to yourself!), I have sprained my... I think he called it the ubliqus something-or-other.
I've been having these stomach spasms since last night and they became much worse this morning. It didn't let it up until I taught class this afternoon... in a heated room. According to the good doctor, the fact that heat helps with the spasms indicates even more that it's a sprain.
So, all this evening, I've been sitting here with the cat and with a heating pad on my mid-section. When I told my mother, she naturally scolded me for the way I take care of myself (and I could hear Daddy calling from the other side of the room to drink more beer to put some warm fat on my belly... Thanks... I think...).
Well, she's right, really. I'm in a bizarre transition period physically. I've been practicing yoga for nearly six years, but I've been involved with hot yoga for one year now. The heat changes everything... the intense physical activity has both improved my condition and put me in a position to be more mindful. Everytime I start to push it, start to think I'm now invincible, yoga practice reminds me of who I really am, what my limits are, where I need to take special care of myself.
I tell people in class all the time to "honor your body," "listen to your body," and "be kind to yourself." And yet, I'm not practicing what I preach. I've been known to skip meals until late in the evening if I'm too busy, can't be bothered. It's never intentional... it's just a bad habit. Denying myself is a special talent of mine. I guess it's the most American aspect of my character... pushing and pushing until something is broken.
Obviously this doesn't make much sense... and I doubt that I'm alone in this brand of senselessness. How can I offer my students, my friends, or my family any good energy if I don't have any left for myself? So, you mothers, stubborn mules, hard workers, and worriers keep that in mind. You're no good to others if you don't take care of yourself. That sounds simplistic, but it's true and it's going to catch up with you...
(from http://slog.thestranger.com)
Okay. A little more specifically... FMS patients are prone to muscle pains as it is, and even more so to spasms. I used to have spasms in the back more frequently than I do now. The yoga largely keeps that under control. But, on Friday evening, I let my blood sugar drop before practice. For anyone, this puts you in a bad place. Your muscles will resist any pressure you put it through. So, this combined with the intense cold weather that came out of nowhere (or from Louisville maybe... Thanks, Tristan... keep your nasty weather to yourself!), I have sprained my... I think he called it the ubliqus something-or-other.
I've been having these stomach spasms since last night and they became much worse this morning. It didn't let it up until I taught class this afternoon... in a heated room. According to the good doctor, the fact that heat helps with the spasms indicates even more that it's a sprain.
So, all this evening, I've been sitting here with the cat and with a heating pad on my mid-section. When I told my mother, she naturally scolded me for the way I take care of myself (and I could hear Daddy calling from the other side of the room to drink more beer to put some warm fat on my belly... Thanks... I think...).
Well, she's right, really. I'm in a bizarre transition period physically. I've been practicing yoga for nearly six years, but I've been involved with hot yoga for one year now. The heat changes everything... the intense physical activity has both improved my condition and put me in a position to be more mindful. Everytime I start to push it, start to think I'm now invincible, yoga practice reminds me of who I really am, what my limits are, where I need to take special care of myself.
I tell people in class all the time to "honor your body," "listen to your body," and "be kind to yourself." And yet, I'm not practicing what I preach. I've been known to skip meals until late in the evening if I'm too busy, can't be bothered. It's never intentional... it's just a bad habit. Denying myself is a special talent of mine. I guess it's the most American aspect of my character... pushing and pushing until something is broken.
Obviously this doesn't make much sense... and I doubt that I'm alone in this brand of senselessness. How can I offer my students, my friends, or my family any good energy if I don't have any left for myself? So, you mothers, stubborn mules, hard workers, and worriers keep that in mind. You're no good to others if you don't take care of yourself. That sounds simplistic, but it's true and it's going to catch up with you...
...like with something that makes you feel stupid. A sprained stomach... Come on! Who does that? Seriously?
(from http://slog.thestranger.com)
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