Was just talking about Eric Rohmer (my very favorite cinéaste) in my last post, and now he’s gone and died. Nor necessarily surprising since he was 89 but a great loss nonetheless. I’ve been a fan since I saw Le Rayon Vert somewhere in the early 90s. Got to see a zillion of his movies in 2000 or so when Film Forum had a retrospective. I’d hit the theater after work every night (with or without friends) and stay for a double feature. I swear it was one of the best weeks of my life.
His movies aren’t for everyone (including, it would seem, my husband). They’re heavy on dialogue and light on plot and are, in my humble opinion, utterly brilliant. This is clearly a guy who loves women, and his heroines are always fascinating. I must say I’ve always thought I’d make a great Rohmer heroine…I have a couple of his better known works (Ma Nuit Chez Maude and Claire’s Knee) in my collection. But Le Rayon Vert has always been my fave. Also really loved the ones in the Four Seasons series…. Haven’t seen his last movie which came out in 2007 but it’s on request at the library. We’ll have to watch that one with a bottle of champagne…
Monday, January 11, 2010
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Bambi Béarnaise
Yes, I have finally established my pioneer wife cred, bitten the bullet and cooked up some of the deer meat that’s been sitting in our freezer for the past year.
Here’s the story: the ever lovin’ isn’t much of a hunter (though he does like to talk about it…) but there are a few guys who have permission to hunt on our property. They brought us a few frozen hunks of various descriptions last year at the end of the season. I smiled, promptly stuck it in the freezer and have been wishing ever since that it would just go away. I’ve been unwilling to throw it out but afraid (on several levels) to cook/eat/serve it to my kids. But Christian has been begging me to cook it, and I came to the conclusion that we had better use it up before 2010 in case the hunters show up with another offering later this winter. So we did a roast in the crockpot a few weeks ago, cooked up a large pot of chili during the blizzard, and roasted a nut crusted tenderloin the other day with pretty good results.
The truth is, I have mixed feelings about meat in general. This despite the fact that some of my favorite memories involve the consumption of large quantities of animal flesh. Most of these took place in France, I should note. Like three consecutive days of foie gras and duck breasts in Armagnac. And those fabulous saucissons I had with a winemaker and his wife outside of Perpignan, followed by a fascinating discussion of the importance of butchers in provincial life (apparently, a subpar boucher can be a death sentence to a French village). The French and their meat…I always think of the scene in Rohmer’s Le Rayon Vert (one of my all time faves) where flaky but lovable heroine tries to explain her vegetarianism to a bunch of rowdy French meat eaters.
Anyway, I manage to suppress my concerns about industrially raised meat every time I go to Costco. I try to get hormone free/organic meats when I can, but find that is sometimes cost prohibitive. I generally find raw meat disgusting (even the grass fed, locally raised stuff), and I tend to get a little paranoid about foodborne pathogens. Christian has friends who are raw vegans, and we’ve discussed going that route at some point. But that would be way down the road. I know there are some who would disagree, but I really do think little kids need to eat meat.
So, for now at least, we’re confirmed omnivores. But the venison thing still had me a little freaked out. I’ve eaten deer meat on a handful of occasions but have never prepared it myself and was preoccupied with concerns about diseases from eating wild animals, gaminess (although, now that I think about it, I’m really not exactly sure what that means…) or at the very least freezer burn. Then there are the redneck associations I couldn’t shake.
Anyway, with some encouragement from my globetrotting, PhD friend/neighbor who regularly dines on venison killed and cooked up by her mountain man, I finally decided to take the plunge. I wasn’t swooning or anything, but it has all been fairly tasty and certainly edible. Besides, isn’t this exactly the kind of local, free-range meat we’re supposed to be eating? And of course, everything tastes better when it’s free.
Here’s the story: the ever lovin’ isn’t much of a hunter (though he does like to talk about it…) but there are a few guys who have permission to hunt on our property. They brought us a few frozen hunks of various descriptions last year at the end of the season. I smiled, promptly stuck it in the freezer and have been wishing ever since that it would just go away. I’ve been unwilling to throw it out but afraid (on several levels) to cook/eat/serve it to my kids. But Christian has been begging me to cook it, and I came to the conclusion that we had better use it up before 2010 in case the hunters show up with another offering later this winter. So we did a roast in the crockpot a few weeks ago, cooked up a large pot of chili during the blizzard, and roasted a nut crusted tenderloin the other day with pretty good results.
The truth is, I have mixed feelings about meat in general. This despite the fact that some of my favorite memories involve the consumption of large quantities of animal flesh. Most of these took place in France, I should note. Like three consecutive days of foie gras and duck breasts in Armagnac. And those fabulous saucissons I had with a winemaker and his wife outside of Perpignan, followed by a fascinating discussion of the importance of butchers in provincial life (apparently, a subpar boucher can be a death sentence to a French village). The French and their meat…I always think of the scene in Rohmer’s Le Rayon Vert (one of my all time faves) where flaky but lovable heroine tries to explain her vegetarianism to a bunch of rowdy French meat eaters.
Anyway, I manage to suppress my concerns about industrially raised meat every time I go to Costco. I try to get hormone free/organic meats when I can, but find that is sometimes cost prohibitive. I generally find raw meat disgusting (even the grass fed, locally raised stuff), and I tend to get a little paranoid about foodborne pathogens. Christian has friends who are raw vegans, and we’ve discussed going that route at some point. But that would be way down the road. I know there are some who would disagree, but I really do think little kids need to eat meat.
So, for now at least, we’re confirmed omnivores. But the venison thing still had me a little freaked out. I’ve eaten deer meat on a handful of occasions but have never prepared it myself and was preoccupied with concerns about diseases from eating wild animals, gaminess (although, now that I think about it, I’m really not exactly sure what that means…) or at the very least freezer burn. Then there are the redneck associations I couldn’t shake.
Anyway, with some encouragement from my globetrotting, PhD friend/neighbor who regularly dines on venison killed and cooked up by her mountain man, I finally decided to take the plunge. I wasn’t swooning or anything, but it has all been fairly tasty and certainly edible. Besides, isn’t this exactly the kind of local, free-range meat we’re supposed to be eating? And of course, everything tastes better when it’s free.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Home for the Holidays
New Year’s Day, and we were awakened before dawn by a boisterous toddler, which makes me very glad we decided to forgo the champagne and get to bed early. It’s been two weeks since the "blizzard" of 09. The snow is pretty much gone thanks to a warm wind around Christmas, but the sense of cabin fever remains. The weather’s been cold and drizzly for the most part—not so propitious for a forced march. There’s been plenty of scrapping and screaming going on around here (not just the kids I’m talking about either). Mama’s been pretty snappish for most of the week, thanks in part to a chest cold that seems to have moved to my head. On the upside, I’m still alive, still married, and everyone’s relatively healthy. Plus we got a heating oil delivery the other day so we should be warm for the rest of the winter.
Trying to take advantage of the indoor scene by doing some hearty winter cooking. Have been giving my kitchenaid and my beloved dutch oven a workout. Let’s see, for Christmas dinner there were my usual fabulous vegetables (roasted Brussels, sweet potato gratin and a butternut squash dish) plus a roasted turkey breast and stuffing. We had one of my sisters and her crew over plus some old friends who live in Baltimore and some holiday orphans they brought along. I swear every holiday meal should involve a few strangers—keeps things from getting boring. The Baltimore crowd comprises a bunch of musicians and we were rockin the carols into the evening ending up with the 12 Days of Christmas (my late father’s favorite). Very merry.
We’re gearing up for our traditional New Year’s Day meal: pork loin, black eyed peas and greens, with hopes that prosperity will ensue. Kept it cozy during the week between holidays with some yummy soups (carrot ginger, split pea), roasted root vegetables, kickass braised chicken thighs and lots of homemade bread. And then there’s the venison…
Trying to take advantage of the indoor scene by doing some hearty winter cooking. Have been giving my kitchenaid and my beloved dutch oven a workout. Let’s see, for Christmas dinner there were my usual fabulous vegetables (roasted Brussels, sweet potato gratin and a butternut squash dish) plus a roasted turkey breast and stuffing. We had one of my sisters and her crew over plus some old friends who live in Baltimore and some holiday orphans they brought along. I swear every holiday meal should involve a few strangers—keeps things from getting boring. The Baltimore crowd comprises a bunch of musicians and we were rockin the carols into the evening ending up with the 12 Days of Christmas (my late father’s favorite). Very merry.
We’re gearing up for our traditional New Year’s Day meal: pork loin, black eyed peas and greens, with hopes that prosperity will ensue. Kept it cozy during the week between holidays with some yummy soups (carrot ginger, split pea), roasted root vegetables, kickass braised chicken thighs and lots of homemade bread. And then there’s the venison…
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Confessions of a Yuletide Slacker
Well, the holidays are upon us, and as usual here at the funny farm, we find ourselves utterly unprepared. At 5 days out, we have no tree, no presents and some very vague plans for a holiday meal. We’re last minute people around here in general, but we’re even more off the ball than usual this year, thanks in part to the 2 feet of snow mother nature decided to grace us with on this crucial final weekend. I haven’t started to panic—or maybe I’m beyond panic. After six years of holidays with the great procrastinator, I’ve learned that things always come together somehow. We are managing to inject a little holiday spirit into our snowbound little menage. They’re cranking the Christmas tunes on Bluegrass Country. Hank and I are taking advantage of our snow days to cook up some gingerbread cookies. But the uncompleted (unstarted really) shopping is bringing me down.
I have to admit, until last weekend I was hardly thinking about the end-of-year holidays. This is mostly because my precious girl happened to be born 10 days before Christmas and this year, I got it in my head that I had to throw her a Bollywood-themed birthday party (inspired by the super cute outfit the world traveling Tatie Misha brought back for Coco from India last year). The party was a fabulous: I got to wear a sari (on loan from the world traveling Auntie Amy) and whipped up some truly kickass curries. However, it took up a lot of the energy (and cash) that would normally have gone to Christmas legwork.
As usual, I’m kicking myself for not just taking care of everything on Amazon on cyber Monday like smart people do. And feeling a little guilty because my kids won’t be getting the perfect presents I had envisioned. But really, the last minute shopping thing is no big deal. We like to keep it simple. With our tight budget and my anti-consumerist streak, we don’t tend to go nuts with the pressies. Christian and I have pretty much stopped gifting each other after a few years of failed attempts. As you may have learned from my previous post, we don’t watch TV so the kids aren’t clamoring for a bunch of shit they’ve been brainwashed into thinking they need. Henry’s inspiration, of course, comes from stuff he’s seen at other people’s houses. Usually the demands are fleeting but he’s been pretty persistent in asking for a remote control digger. Well, my darling, ask and you shall receive (as long as it’s available at Target on 12/22…). Actually, I think the main problem with that one is that I really have no clue what he’s talking about… The other request was a swingset (a few of his little friends have those fancy wooden models that dot the exurban landscape (they’ll only set you back a couple thou…). Good luck with that one, kid.
As for the Bollywood princess, I’m happy to say she still has no clue and no desires. Her needs, her wants are met (mostly by me which is as satisfying as it is exhausting). I’m talking about love, fresh air, nourishing food and, lately, conversation. That’s really what it’s all about for her. Although she is kind of digging the pink Barbie laptop she got from her little BFF for her birthday…Next year, she can take me out of the loop and email her list directly to Santa.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Don't blame me--I'm TV free
Yet another confrontation with my cultural cluelessness via facebook the other day when a high school acquaintance put up an enthusiastic post about someone named Elizabeth Mitchell. Of course, I thought he was talking about the children’s folk singer, whom we are crazy about around here, but whose popular appeal, it would seem, in no way rivals that of the TV star he was talking about. As I have since learned from Wikipedia, Elizabeth Mitchell played the scheming doctor on Lost (now starring in the updated version of V--which of course I had no idea they were even doing…).
Why, you may ask, am I so out of it? Well for one thing, we are essentially TV free around here. When America went digital, we went dark. We decided to stick with our trusty old Panasonic and just say no to the converter box. Not that we were big TV viewers before the digital revolution… As a single person, I was always too busy working/having a good time to watch much television. I have also been consistently unwilling to pay for cable/satellite, preferring to spend my discretionary income on clothing and booze as a single person and on swim classes and Starbucks as a parent.
We’ve always only had one television, which is located in our bedroom and not in a common area, so it’s never just on the way the radio is sometimes on, as background noise. Now that we have no reception whatsoever, we use our set to watch dvds, mostly riveting material from the local library. We are, for example, currently struggling to stay awake through season one of The Tudors (not sure if it’s the time change or Sam Neill…). Henry gets to watch one dvd a day (two if I’m feeling antisocial) while Coco naps (this is, of course, is mostly to preserve my sanity). Colette, I am happy to say, does not really watch anything. We stick to the AAP recommendation that kids don’t watch television before age 2 (although I’m still not sure why there’s always a bloody Disney movie showing in my pediatrician’s office…).
I’m not necessarily anti-television per se. Christian and I actually wind up watching quite a bit of TV programming on dvd (I still miss Tony Soprano). I do have issues with advertising and am entirely grateful to be out of the loop on the latest in prostate health. I’m also determined to have television play a very small role in my kids’ lives (although I do have mixed emotions when I’m feeling bloggy and Hank declines to watch a video because he’d rather play Legos with me).
There are things I feel I’m missing out on (Californication, Nigella Lawson, Roger Federer…). People keep recommending hulu, but our problem is that (since we have an analogue set) we’d have to sit on hard chairs in the kitchen in front of our iMac—no thanks. We recently inherited a converter box from my in-laws who are once again on the cutting edge of technology, having picked up a flatscreen from Costco. I have a feeling we'll eventually cave and install the thing before the 2010 World Cup. Gotta watch the French team cheat its way to victory--n’est-ce pas?
Why, you may ask, am I so out of it? Well for one thing, we are essentially TV free around here. When America went digital, we went dark. We decided to stick with our trusty old Panasonic and just say no to the converter box. Not that we were big TV viewers before the digital revolution… As a single person, I was always too busy working/having a good time to watch much television. I have also been consistently unwilling to pay for cable/satellite, preferring to spend my discretionary income on clothing and booze as a single person and on swim classes and Starbucks as a parent.
We’ve always only had one television, which is located in our bedroom and not in a common area, so it’s never just on the way the radio is sometimes on, as background noise. Now that we have no reception whatsoever, we use our set to watch dvds, mostly riveting material from the local library. We are, for example, currently struggling to stay awake through season one of The Tudors (not sure if it’s the time change or Sam Neill…). Henry gets to watch one dvd a day (two if I’m feeling antisocial) while Coco naps (this is, of course, is mostly to preserve my sanity). Colette, I am happy to say, does not really watch anything. We stick to the AAP recommendation that kids don’t watch television before age 2 (although I’m still not sure why there’s always a bloody Disney movie showing in my pediatrician’s office…).
I’m not necessarily anti-television per se. Christian and I actually wind up watching quite a bit of TV programming on dvd (I still miss Tony Soprano). I do have issues with advertising and am entirely grateful to be out of the loop on the latest in prostate health. I’m also determined to have television play a very small role in my kids’ lives (although I do have mixed emotions when I’m feeling bloggy and Hank declines to watch a video because he’d rather play Legos with me).
There are things I feel I’m missing out on (Californication, Nigella Lawson, Roger Federer…). People keep recommending hulu, but our problem is that (since we have an analogue set) we’d have to sit on hard chairs in the kitchen in front of our iMac—no thanks. We recently inherited a converter box from my in-laws who are once again on the cutting edge of technology, having picked up a flatscreen from Costco. I have a feeling we'll eventually cave and install the thing before the 2010 World Cup. Gotta watch the French team cheat its way to victory--n’est-ce pas?
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
From Brussels with Love
Took the kids to see my in-laws the other day, and we wound up going home with a bunch of frozen foods, including a bag of Brussels sprouts. As you might have guessed, I don’t have much to say in favor of frozen veggies (except for peas and edamame but that’s another story). But I was tickled to read on the package that they actually came from Belgium... Anyway, I’m kind of a Brussels sprout aficionado, and those lovely green globes are one of my very favorite things about winter. They must be fresh of course. And roasted, never boiled (the sign of an affluent society according to Claude Lévi-Strauss). I roast them in the oven with olive oil and a little salt for everyday and with bacon and chestnuts for holidays. They are tender and slightly chewy with a fabulous nutty flavor and have very little in common with the sorry, mushy excuse for a vegetable that comes out of the freezer.
Because this question has come up, I’ll take this opportunity to mention that my Petits Choux handle doesn’t have anything to do with Brussels sprouts (choux de Bruxelles). It refers to my kids and translates as “little sweeties”, as in pâte à chou (puff pastry), not cabbages or Brussels sprouts which are not particularly sweet. They are however pretty darn cute.
Because this question has come up, I’ll take this opportunity to mention that my Petits Choux handle doesn’t have anything to do with Brussels sprouts (choux de Bruxelles). It refers to my kids and translates as “little sweeties”, as in pâte à chou (puff pastry), not cabbages or Brussels sprouts which are not particularly sweet. They are however pretty darn cute.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Beauty is a Beast
Coco had a second-hand bee costume going on for Halloween, but I’m starting to think I should have given her a bow and arrow and called her an Amazon from Hell. She’s a big, gorgeous, rowdy toddler and is kind of turning into a playground ruffian. She’s picked up some bad practices from her brother and has started pushing other kids around in social settings. She’s clearly not trying to be mean—in fact, I’m pretty sure it’s her way of expressing her affection (she only smacks around the kids she likes).
For the most part, the parents we associate with have been pretty cool about it. She had a hilarious brawl with a little beauty named Ava at a little party we went to earlier this fall (2 toddlers battling over a five-year-old hipster’s Davy Crockett-style coonskin cap). Coco gave Ava a shove and Ava returned fire with a poke in the eye. The other mom laughed it off, the girls moved on pretty quickly, and a good time was had by all.
There was an uptight mom at the library with an expensively dressed 14-month-old (late 30s/early 40s mom; little girl with last name as first name) who seemed a little put out when Co gave her kid a friendly shove (the kid was unfazed). I have a neighbor who’s the overprotective first-time parent of a tiny, sedate, porcelain-skinned creature who, it’s hard to believe, is only a few months younger than Co (she seems like another species altogether). The mom seems nice, but I’m afraid to call her for a meetup because I’m afraid my little bruiser might break her kid.
Anyway, she really is a sweet, well-adjusted child—just a little wild at times. And I don’t want her to get a rep around town at the tender age of (not quite) two. Of course, my underlying concern is always that Coco’s aggressive behavior is going to be attributed to bad parenting. Really, I’m doing my best here. I’m on it every time something happens with stern admonishments, time outs etc. But I’m fairly sure it’s just a phase, and I don’t want to make too much of a big deal about it. Anyway, there’s really not much I can do about it except make her a prisoner in her own home (in which case the same fate would apply to me). So for now, we need to be around rough and tumble kids and laid back parents. If you find any, let me know…
For the most part, the parents we associate with have been pretty cool about it. She had a hilarious brawl with a little beauty named Ava at a little party we went to earlier this fall (2 toddlers battling over a five-year-old hipster’s Davy Crockett-style coonskin cap). Coco gave Ava a shove and Ava returned fire with a poke in the eye. The other mom laughed it off, the girls moved on pretty quickly, and a good time was had by all.
There was an uptight mom at the library with an expensively dressed 14-month-old (late 30s/early 40s mom; little girl with last name as first name) who seemed a little put out when Co gave her kid a friendly shove (the kid was unfazed). I have a neighbor who’s the overprotective first-time parent of a tiny, sedate, porcelain-skinned creature who, it’s hard to believe, is only a few months younger than Co (she seems like another species altogether). The mom seems nice, but I’m afraid to call her for a meetup because I’m afraid my little bruiser might break her kid.
Anyway, she really is a sweet, well-adjusted child—just a little wild at times. And I don’t want her to get a rep around town at the tender age of (not quite) two. Of course, my underlying concern is always that Coco’s aggressive behavior is going to be attributed to bad parenting. Really, I’m doing my best here. I’m on it every time something happens with stern admonishments, time outs etc. But I’m fairly sure it’s just a phase, and I don’t want to make too much of a big deal about it. Anyway, there’s really not much I can do about it except make her a prisoner in her own home (in which case the same fate would apply to me). So for now, we need to be around rough and tumble kids and laid back parents. If you find any, let me know…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
