two things, including a recipe for Kari

First off, issue 26 of This Joy+Ride is beautifully autumnal and features both a Chicagoan and photos of NYC.

Second, here is a recipe for last night's dinner:

1. Preheat oven to 400. Peel and chop a few pounds of winter squash into 1" pieces. (Caveat: I used acorn squash, which is a pain to peel. Butternut would be much easier. The jury is out on eating acorn squash skin, but if you were into that you could just leave it on.) Peel and chop one yellow onion (or red or white) into 1" pieces. Toss all this on a rimmed baking sheet with 1 tablespoon of oil, 2 teaspoons coarse salt, 1 teaspoon garlic powder (I was out of real garlic -- a few chopped cloves would be even better), and 2 teaspoons crushed dried rosemary (fresh would obviously be fabulous). Bake for half an hour or so, tossing with a spatula after 15 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, cook 8 ounces of pasta (rigatoni is good, or anything bite-sized). Chop 6 ounces of feta cheese into little bits (or crumble). After draining the pasta, add the cooked vegetables and cheese--mix well.

Serve with a green salad. This makes about 4 servings. The squash takes on this buttery texture so that it's almost a sauce, and the ratio of vegetables to pasta is calculated to make a pretty healthy but hearty dish. I think it would also be lovely followed by a salad of chopped apples in a bit of plain yogurt with a dash of cinnamon and a handful of walnut pieces.

Oh, food.

it is coming

When I was a little girl, I always rode the bus home from school, and in the fall this meant climbing down from the bus and crossing the street, dragging my feet through the several yards of maple-leaf crunch driveway, and then plunging from the crisp afternoon into the warmth of the kitchen just beyond the side door. And the scents of that kitchen: oh, the warm oven scents.

Today I made pumpkin chocolate chip bread, a perennial family favorite, and as I sat on the couch reading Midnight's Children and the aroma of baking cinnamon-nutmeg-pumpkin began to fill the apartment, I found myself floating back through those layers of an autumn afternoon: the anticipation of an ending school day; the cool of the steel-skied afternoon and its blaze of changing leaves; the chatter of a bus ride (or, on more introverted days, the downy safety of a novel, perhaps Little House or Anne of Green Gables); the front maple, side door, kitchen welcome, Mom's smile, snack; and probably the seduction of a stubby pencil and a notebook, or more reading, watching the light fade and waiting for an always good dinner (excepting canned green beans and vegetable soup).

It is up to me now to fill my own home with its scents, to celebrate this favorite season with its leaf-magic and cozy evenings, and today I did. I've shared the recipe before, but here it is again:

Autumn Afternoon Pumpkin Bread

2.5 C sugar

1 C oil

4 eggs

3 and 1/3 C flour

2 tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

1 tsp cinnamon

1/2 tsp nutmeg

1/4 tsp allspice

1/4 tsp ground ginger

2/3 C water

15 oz can pumpkin puree (or pureed cooked pumpkin or winter squash)

1 C chocolate chips

1/4 C minced candied ginger (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 350. Grease bottoms and halfway up sides of two bread tins (9x5, I think).

2. Beat sugar and oil together in your largest bowl. Add eggs, beating well after each.

3. In a separate large bowl, combine dry ingredients (flour through ground ginger).

4. Alternately add dry ingredient mixture and water to oil/sugar/egg mixture, mixing just to incorporate. Then add pumpkin puree, just until incorporated. Finally, fold in chocolate chips and ginger, if using.

5. Bake 55-60 minutes -- test with a toothpick near the center. Cool in pans for 10 min, then remove and cool on wire rack.

oh, life, you do me in sometimes

This evening has almost everything good about a midsummer seven-o'clock-p.m. going for it. I made a dinner of oven fried chicken and potatoes and asparagus, which we gobbled with salt and ketchup and spicy mustard. The potatoes browned just perfectly, and the asparagus steamed in the oven to the perfect shade of green, and it was thin and tender and I loved it.

Just now, the almost-setting sun is catching its yellow light on the living room screens, marking the east wall with stripes of milky gold. Josh clanks dishes gently as he washes them. Cars whirr by on their way home, I imagine, to apartments where their occupants will throw open the windows and invite in the breezes.

I have invited in the breezes. I am always inviting in the breezes. This is part of my heritage, as is closing my eyes to the sound of wind in maple leaves. This is part of what I learned from my family's Very Strong Women, and as I am an aspiring Very Strong Woman, I obey my intuition regarding the inviting of breezes and the welcoming of maple leaf music.

Yes, this evening is a good one, and Bill McLaughlin is on the radio, and I have renewed all my library books, and I am glad for it all. It is not always like this, of course. That is part of the story.

this is part of me writing a paper

The magical evening light. I'm at the synthesis phase, the trying to pull 500 years of history into a storyline phase, the working-on-order phase. I am eating astonishing quantities of popcorn. I am drinking Diet Coke with Lime. I am stacking and rearranging hundreds of pages of photocopies of out of print books and articles and uneasily eyeing a stack of several dozen books hiding behind the couch.

The world is alive. The sunlight, itself, is shy and alive. The tablecloth hangs just so in the other room, and the blinds sway almost imperceptibly on a tentative breeze.

I think Josh's questions about the stories we inhabit are very, very important. Please go comment on them.

the food update

Last night I made salsa, and I thought, hey, I should share the love. So here's a recipe from my head:

1 lb tomatos (local folks, the market has these little boxes of vine ripened tomatoes for .50 right now)
1 red onion
1 green bell pepper
1 lime (just its juice)
1 clove garlic
1 tsp coarse salt (or to taste)
***edit! cilantro (to taste)***

Chop it all up (de-goo the tomatoes, though, unless you're into that stuff). Eat. Enjoy.

grateful for: only one more to go, and it's half done

I return with remarkable frequency on this blog to telling you, dear reader, what I have been eating. What I have been eating last night and today are doritos. You always know it's finals time when I eat doritos for meals (though last night they were rounded out by some salad and bagel bites). Today they were lunch.

But tonight I'm going to make a curried chickpea stew with rice and a cucumber salad, I bought a huge bag of grapefruits last weekend, so scurvy is at least not on the immediate horizon. And things promise to return to somewhat sane by noon tomorrow, which is the deadline I've given myself for finishing this last paper.

I'll let you know about that stew.

because i'm supposed to be writing a paper, but my head is cold-fuzzy

First sniffles of the season! I'm actually weirdly excited about this.

Katie: in response to your questions about the slow cooker, I don't know how to keep food from getting mushy. I haven't actually used mine that often, though I'm trying to use it more now that I have a class that goes from 4:15-5:30 two days a week, and a housemate no longer working night shifts. I've mostly used mine for things that won't really get overmushy (or things that won't be gross if they are mushy): chili, stew (I should have kept the potatoes bigger, though, because they did), etc. I have a huge book of crock pot recipes: I'll post ones that are successful, perhaps?

Here's a not slow-cooked recipe, because I'm in the mood to nest:

Simple Potato Soup

This makes a very full pot of soup. Invite friends or freeze some.

1. Bake at least 6 medium potatoes. (To bake: scrub, pierce with fork, leave uncovered in 375-degree oven an hour to an hour and fifteen minutes). A really great thing to do would be to bake a lot of potatoes all at once (it doesn't take any longer, right?) when you plan to make baked potatoes, then use the rest the next day for soup. I also like to add more potato to the soup. Once you can handle these, cut them into small chunks (I like to leave the skin on).

2. Make the soup base: saute 1 large onion, chopped, and 3-5 minced cloves of garlic. Stir and add 1 Tbsp salt, 2 tsp pepper, 1 Tbsp dried basil, and 2/3 Cup of flour. Now slowly stir in 9 cups of chicken or vegetable stock. You want to avoid sticky lumps of flour--you may have to scrape some of these apart with your wooden spoon. (A much cheaper way to handle the stock is to add 9 cups of water and 4-5 boullion cubes, though this may increase your sodium content.)

3. Bring the soup to a boil and boil for a few minutes, stirring (break up any flour lumps!). Then add your cubed potatoes and 3 Cups of milk, but don't boil now! Just simmer! Heat through, and you're done.

Modifications/garnishes: serve with chopped green onion, shredded cheese, sour cream, crumbled cooked bacon, and/or chives. If you want some protein, you could add a drained can of kidney beans or browned ground beef. I'm contemplating adding sauteed red bell pepper next time.

rain!

So apparently Chicago is in a state of emergency because of flooding? Up on the third floor, we have the sort of inverse problem: a leaky ceiling! Josh's desk is even pitifully warped in one corner.

But! We have coffee from beans we bought on sale this afternoon at Meijer, lovely Meijer, and a whole lot of reading going on. And perhaps stir-fry for dinner.

Yum.

Here's a recipe (for you omnivores) for a stew I made in the crock pot last week, which was really really lovely:

1. Put 2-3 lbs beef (I used chuck and trimmed it a LOT), cut into 1-2" pieces, into the bottom of the crock pot. Dab on a little can of tomato paste and 3 Tablespoons balsamic vinegar. Add salt and pepper to taste.

2. On top of this, add 1 lb carrots, cut into 1-2" long pieces, 1 lb new potatoes (as long as they're small, don't cut them!), and 1 lb cheap onions, cut into 1-2" wedges. Over this, spread 5-8 crushed/chopped garlic cloves and 2 bay leaves.

3. Cook on high for 5 hours. Serve with a green salad and biscuits or crusty bread.

pencils

This morning I bought a pencil sharpener for twenty cents and now I'm a pencil-sharpening fairy. I go through phases in my love affair with writing implements, and just now all the humble wooden pencils I can find are receiving loving care and pointy-tipped makeovers. I feel compelled, now, to use them.

I also just finished reading The God of Small Things, which is a breathlessly painful book. Last time it was for "fun," and this time it's for class -- I don't know if I could make it through a third. Have you read it? (I was in a coffee shop today, and I noticed how many people share my somewhat rude but very human and endearing [I think] habit of bending at funny angles to see the title of a stranger's book.)

Other bits of day:

a woman walking down a local street with grocery bags in both hands and a twelve-pack of Coca-Cola on her head;

the elderly man who hangs out in front of his building at all hours of the day and calls me "Sleepy" whenever I walk by because once I yawned when I passed him--today it was, "Awake today, Sleepy?" and big, big smile;

a workman (beautifying our building) who blocked the sidewalk when he saw Josh and me approaching, held out his arms, and in Balkan-tinged English demanded five dollars and laughed delightedly when I told him we didn't have five dollars (we've been friends this week, ever since I nodded approvingly at his work);

two pounds of strawberries for just a bit more than a dollar (shortcake this weekend? yes? who would like to come over for some?).

Tutorial: How to Have a Good Saturday Living in Grad School Poverty

Nowadays we hear daily reports of the creepiness of the economy: stock prices go down, gas prices go up, daily necessities grow more expensive, the dollar isn't doing so hot, etc.etc.etc. But, dear reader, you can live the good life on pittance, and I'm here to show you how.

A Good Saturday Afternoon

1. Begin by choosing to pack your own lunch to eat at home or on the way (we would have done this in the park, but it was raining. We ended up eating in the car before we started driving).


Cost: $0 (already-bought groceries don't count, right? especially when they were all bought on sale at the cheap local market) (Thanks for teaching me the macro function on my camera, Dad)

2. Hit the stores for which you have recently found long-lost gift cards from two birthdays ago. Browse with an air of superiority because you know good "LITrature" and have impeccable taste -- demonstrate this fact by buying nothing.

Cost: $0

3. Head to CVS -- your extra-care bucks should have printed recently (they do so quarterly). Because Josh refuses to support the Big Corporation (except by working for them), we only got $1 in extra care bucks last week, but we knew how to use it:

Cost: $.28

4. Starbucks has (had?) this deal going where if you register gift cards online (sacrificing precious privacy, I know, but it's not like anyone really has privacy anymore anyway), they'll send you a postcard for a free drink. Anything you want--really.

So we headed to Starbucks (a quiet one -- we had many options) and waltzed up to the counter. I handed the barista my postcard: "Need some help deciding?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "What do people order here when they have money?"

"You like caffeine? Sweet? Something hot?"

Nod. Nod. Nod.

"You look like a caramel macchiato kind of person to me." He turned to Josh. "And you look like a mocha man."

And the next thing we knew: two steaming venti beverages (the barista decided they should be venti). Venti. I knew this cup size existed theoretically, but it had never occurred to me that they could really enter into my own life.

So now you gaze into the somewhat dopey eyes of your very attractive companion (please comment if you think he needs to trim the goatee).

Then you taste each of the mythically-proportioned beverages (Josh's was actually a white mocha with a shot of hazelnut).

And then make a funny face swishing the two together in your mouth to make white-mocha-caramel-hazelnut fairy-tale flavor.

(We couldn't finish these; the leftovers are in our fridge awaiting reheating tomorrow morning. Is that gross?)

Cost: $0

5. Finally, head to the grocery store to exorcise the spending itch by buying groceries you've already budgeted for anyway. Shop for deals; use the coupons you've lovingly clipped and organized; don't turn up your nose at store-brand jam.

Cost: grocery $$.

6. Head home with a feeling of great satisfaction and a caffeine buzz. Make a huge salad for dinner. Let evening slip into nighttime.

Total cost: $0.28

*Full disclosure: we also gave $1 to a Streetwise seller because we thought we should, bought a gift we shouldn't spoil by talking about, paid approximately $2.20 in parking meters, and used probably $2 of gas. Let's not count those.

**The day would have been even awesomer if we'd been able to go to a free concert in the park, but Josh has to practice some music with some people for church tomorrow. Hence my quality time with my laptop. When he gets home we might watch a movie and pop $.25-worth of popcorn.

The end.

sitting in front of the page

I almost photographed my cheerios with strawberries and blueberries and my cup of milky tea this morning--for the express purpose of sharing it with you, dear reader--but then I decided that my photography is terrible and that nobody wants to look into my breakfast bowl.

That is all.

a full and good life (with plenty of writing)

The evening light is pale yellow again, thin and watery. It filters through open blinds and gauzy white curtains, making fuzzy shadows. I'm sitting crosslegged on the couch in the far corner of the living room, with my glass of ginger ale on the windowsill and my books and notes in a pile beside me. Once again, I am writing a paper.

It probably seems to you, dear reader, that I am always writing a paper.

But that is not all of life. This morning I woke to a 6:44 alarm (I re-set it for 7:11), then ate a poptart and had milky, sweetened spicy chai tea in one of my favorite shaped mugs (low and broad, more like a bowl, worthy of such a strong and lovely brew). Writing followed, and agonizing, and more writing (on the computer, in my notebook, on a small notepad, aloud to Josh's befuddled ears). But a bit after noon I stopped writing! I ate leftovers for lunch and then headed out to spend time with a Baby!

This Baby is around five months old, and he and I are weekly companions now. For an hour or two we hang out while his mom runs some errands or goes for some coffee: we walk around, I sing, we decide on what is Appropriate To Chew and Not Appropriate To Chew (houseplants, however tantalizing, are a Not). We go for walks and get lots of smiles of approval. We bounce.

After Baby Time, I went to the market and palmed peaches (should you buy ones that have split open at the top, by the stem? They were all like that, overblown, somehow), grabbed locally made pita and Wisconsin cheap-brand cheese (still $1.99 for 8 ounces, which is amazing here in the city), yellow squash, bell pepper, leaf lettuce, plums. I froze my fingers (and stretched my muscles) carrying milk home with the rest.

I also cleaned the bathroom (houseguest on the way!), baked chocolate cupcakes (last day of class tomorrow!), wrote scatterbrained emails, tidied my files, browsed blogs with pretty pictures.

And now I really--really--am going to write.

sunday evening, light fading

My left arm is sore. This afternoon, our church held a block party to kick off vacation Bible school, complete with one of those blow-up jumping carnival games and a Christian rap artist. There was even chicken.

I held the beautiful grandbaby of one of my Bible study friends, and I couldn't imagine how many people I met because of that little girl! Standing on the sidewalk, trying to wipe the Oreo cream off her face, I was A Mom, and not only that -- the Mom of a little African American baby, which somehow crossed racial barriers I didn't even know existed. I was almost sad to have to admit around question number three (I could answer her age and name) that she wasn't actually mine. But the conversations, once started, continued. I've never had such a lovely afternoon with my neighbors.

In other news, I've reached new heights of culinary thrift: Josh took me out last night to our favorite little Thai place, where we had a gorgeous sweet curry dish. We asked them to package up the leftover coconut broth for us (having eaten most of the chicken and vegetables), so tonight I cut up red bell pepper to simmer in the sauce with frozen peas -- and voila. Waste not, etc.

here i am! again!

In the neverending saga that is my life, I was without internet at home for another month. But today--amid much rejoicing--order was restored to the universe, and we are once more in possession of a fairly reliable connection.

So much to fill in!

These days I'm researching my beloved Annie Dillard for a paper. For graduate school! I never thought this would happen, but it has, and I am drooling and delighted.

Tonight I made burgers on my new grill pan (bought with an almost four-year-old wedding gift card). I also grilled red and yellow onions (to compare--the red won) and green beans and asparagus. Grilled asparagus is vibrant and delicious.

Leave me some love.

true confessions

In preparation for these weeks of finals--and because there was a sale at Target--I bought a family-sized bag of Cheetos last weekend. A family sized bag of those knobby little orange treats contains 22 servings (a serving size is 21 pieces, I'm assuming of varied size). It has been four days since we purchased this bag, and half the Cheetos are gone.

I really can't help it. I go into the kitchen to get a glass of water and remember the crinkly orange bag. So I fill a white bowl with a reasonable amount--I don't count them or anything (Josh makes fun of me for measuring out 3/4 cup of Trader Joe's granola, but granola is calorically dense, and this granola is so good, I really want to make it last)--and put away the bag. The problem is that they're so delicious (it's the flavor and the texture, you know?) that I end up craving another bowlful later in the day. Or later in the fifteen minutes.

Do you have any foods that hold such power over you?

I am sitting here, listening to something high in the wall scratching around (a mouse? a ferrett? a bird on the roof?), looking out the windows, vaguely aware of faint voices, human interactions taking place outside or in other people's homes (only feet away, but so very anonymous). Tonight my goal is to pound out a five-page paper I'd like to turn in tomorrow and cross off my list. It's not going so well.

In a few minutes I will scrub potatoes for either baking or boiling (do you all have a preference?). I have some low fat cream cheese I'm thinking would make a really lovely addition to mashed taters, but I've also been kind of lusting after baked potatoes with their skins rubbed in olive oil and kosher salt. I bought a steak to cook in a skillet, and will toss a salad with strips of red bell pepper and cook some green beans or limas. This will be a proper dinner. We will listen to classical music and drink very cold water.

I'm feeling sorrow in my heart again today, but I'm really very thankful for these things:

- the red cloth binding on my copy of Love by Toni Morrison, and the chance to write a paper next week that plays in all of the novel's ambiguities.
- four loads of laundry washed and dried (or drying) and folded and put away. Even the socks matched and tucked into their drawers.
- a high of 70 tomorrow? seriously? Shall I teach in flip flops?
- the stability of a manilla folder full of notes and outlines waiting to be expanded.
- Josh's recent flurry of kindness, even though he's been sick: the man washed our floors, shopped for groceries, vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom, ordered and procured fabulous takeout, and brought me coffee -- all in the last few days. We were cranky at each other this morning, but it only takes a moment of reflection to make me see how blessed I am. Plus, he's pretty smart and listens to me ramble about books he's never read.
- The news that Starbucks is giving perks to those who register their gift cards, like free refills on brewed coffee and free fancy drinks if you buy a pound of coffee.
- a blog to type in as warmup/procrastination.
- readers.

Seriously, though, answer me three questions:
1. best potatoes?
2. best hot beverage?
3. worst laundry experience.

Buzz! Buzz! I'm drinking loads of caffeinated fizzy beverage and eating these curry-flavored potato crisps that Brandi thought weren't so great, but they really grow on you. Or at least they grow on me.

This is the part of almost-spring where riotous sunshine is overtaken by days of cloud and drizzle, runny noses, dramatic tumbles and twirls in the weather and my mood. This is the part where we have daffodils in cobalt cups, pink carnations in coffee mugs (from a neighbor overwhelmed by our willingness to take out her garbage--that speaks for itself of our city culture). This is the part where I buzz from group to group, meetings and coffee dates and even miniature childcare gigs, like a pollinating little bumblebee hoping things will flower soon. (This is also the part where we eat repetitive leftovers and wonder how anyone else ever gets their laundry done, lest you think our life too rosy.)

Forgive the strained metaphor.

I'm skipping poetry playtime this afternoon in order to get some work done, which should probably not involve writing a blog post, but it's been a while. Caffeine always makes me expansively verbal. Tomorrow my students have a paper due, so I will bake zucchini bread for them in a bit (or chocolate chip cookies, if I have chocolate chips and can tamp down my health conscience about giving 18-year-olds cookies for breakfast). I also have a group presentation tomorrow night, and I foolishly began Paradise last night, which is a rather long Toni Morrison novel that has me hooked and twisted in its mystery already and is really tempting me to read it. Have any of you read the book before? After this I only have Love left, and I think I might feel bereft when this wandering through TM is over (though is it ever, really?).

P.S. Classes for summer and fall are looking to be ridiculously wonderful. Sigh. Buzz.

home again

From Tuesday until Saturday I was in Michigan--not exactly how I planned to spend Spring Break, but everso worth it. We found out Wednesday that my suddenly quite sick grandma has cancer, and then we spent Wednesday through Saturday in the hospital, pilfering nurses' station coffee (not the best) and hanging out. Thursday night I stayed with Grandma, and I think my favorite part was sitting on the edge of her bed together to watch the sunrise. The sky was overcast, and it looked like God had his finger on a dimmer switch and was slowly pulling up the dim blue light over the winter trees.

Josh's huge comprehensive M.A. exam is Wednesday at 10:00, so now that I'm home I'm trying to be a supportive housemate and let him choose the music and read at the lunch table. Tonight I made him pork chops, wild rice, and peas, with pecan bars for dessert. We'll eat them soon. They're basically naughty and delicious cheater pecan pie...mmmm.

And that, my friends, is that. Please pray for my grandma and for my Josh.

Sula is a tricky little bit of lit

Well. I'm working on a paper about Toni Morrison's second book, Sula. Let's just say it's kicking my smarty-pants behind. Enough of that.

In the meantime, I am baking potatoes in the oven, and I've just this moment realized how formative the scent of baking potatoes was in my childhood. Tonight Josh and I will eat them, like we did then, with sour cream and salt and pepper, and a salad drenched in Italian dressing. Which means, of course, that I have an excuse to leave Sula for a while and wash some lettuce.

What is your dinner tonight?

So far today, I have

(1) taught class -- I marked drafts last night, so we had a great deal to talk about.

(2) been to Bible study -- we discussed Isaiah 28-29 (tricky stuff), ate amazing banana bread with coconut in it, drank strong coffee, played a bit with the little ones (E tried to put a sugared walnut in my mouth, but it had already been in his, so I ended up with a sticky wet smear all over my cheek).

(3) filled two grocery bags at the market -- tonight we're having fettuccini with maranara (jarred) and alfredo (homemade) sauces at girls' group. A shameless plug: http://www.reusablebags.com/ sells these bags, and while I'm totally into making my own, these are really heavy-duty bags with a lifetime guarantee.

(4) eaten popcorn and cheese for lunch (don't worry, mom, I'll sneak in some fruit this afternoon).

(5) vacuumed.

(6) dashed down the stairs to meet the mail carrier, accept my package of three more Toni Morrison books, and give her a very late Christmas gift card.

(7) sat down at my desk to start some more research on Song of Solomon and write an abstract for conference submission.


A little moment to share: Walking along the icy sidewalk today, I passed a young man with a travel mug, who trailed behind him this strong and mysterious aroma of Earl Grey tea. That was probably the hilight of my day.