misology (mi-SOL-uh-jee) noun
Hatred of logic or reason.
[From Greek miso- (hate) + -logy (science, study).]
-Anu Garg (words at wordsmith.org)
Behind again. Here are more book reviews:
Magic or Madness, by Julie Larbalestier. If you use magic, you use up life. If you don’t use magic, you go crazy. First part of a trilogy — I plan to read the rest of it. The writing is straightforward and good. YA.
Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon. What a sexy romance should be — an escape from everyday living (but not too far). A former WWII nurse is transported through time to 1743 in Scotland, where she’s harassed by her husband’s ancestor and falls in love with someone else entirely. Well, but not exceptionally written. Goes on as a series. May or may not continue with it.
The Club Dumas, by Arturo Perez-Reverte. Great book, deserves a page or two instead of a few sentences. Beware: if you hate post-modernism, several elements will piss you off. Remember the movie The Ninth Gate? Well, there you go. But the book makes more sense, even if Johnny Depp is so nice to look at. Definitely will read more of this guy’s stuff; like Umberto Ego with a normal-sized ego.
Otherland, by Tad Williams. Verbose, and, in the end, doesn’t pay off. A dissatisfying end to a series that wasn’t all that and a bag of chips in the first place. Why do I do this to myself? Because he writes interesting characters that I care about. Damn me! Damn me!
I went through a brief pagan phase a number of years ago; it didn’t last long. I thought about it too much and let it go — but I kept a sense of the passing of the seasons, and a sense that events can be influenced, by changing yourself more than anything else.
This was about the same time that I started getting interested in cooking, though, and I ended up using magic in my cooking from time to time. Not to say that I can make love potions or anything, but what I cook (and what I eat) depends on the seasons a lot. (You may have noticed.)
Most of the magic you see is about creating big changes. “Make X fall in love with me.” Or whatever. But part of what turned me off about paganism is that you shouldn’t make X fall in love with you: if that person wouldn’t have chosen you at that time, there’s probably a reason for it, and you’d be reckless to try to get around it without paying the price, because you will, sooner or later. (Nevermind for the moment whether or not a magic spell could do such a thing.) What really needs to happen is “Make me understand why X hasn’t fallen in love with me.”
So me, I stick with cooking. “Celebrate the way you feel in Spring.” “Boost the immune system.” “Cheer me up.” “Revel!” “Comfort.” Small things. Food can do these things. The magic part is the intent. When I cook, I keep my intent in mind. Doing this helps me adjust flavors, make last-minute adjustments, to know when something is going wrong, wrong, wrong. Regardless of whether they accomplish what I want them to or not, I end up with something a little bit beyond what I can normally cook, which is good enough for me.
Anyway, here are some of the books that have a little magic cooking in them:
What do you want to be when you grow up?
Another early-spring recipe.
1 pkg. cream cheese
1/4 c. chopped cooked shrimp
3/4 c. chopped portabella mushrooms
1 green onion, white and green parts chopped
Using the “reheat” setting on the microwave, bring the cream cheese to about body heat temperature. Stir in the shrimp, mushrooms, and green onion. Add 1-2 Tbs. soy sauce or to taste.
Which reminds me:
Crab Rangoon Filling
1 pkg cream cheese
1 can crab, drained
Follow the same procedure as above. Fill wonton wrappers with about 1 Tbs. filling, wrap (I can never get that flower shape to stay put, so I just make an envelope–at any rate, use a sprinkle of water to stick the edges of the wrappers together), and deep fry until golden-brown.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
–Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I’ve always liked that line. “I love thee with a love I seemed to lose/With my lost saints.”
I’m not a sonnet writer…
I’m the dog who follows you across the country
Half-blind, lame in one leg, deaf as a post, old, and smelly–
barking suspiciously at strangers when I wake up in a strange place
and mistake it for home.
I’m the cat who head-butts you in your sleep,
yowling with affection as you toss me out the door.
I’m the small child bringing you scraps of paper upon which
I have written the message “flrglop” with devotion.
I’m the sound of pans banging around the kitchen on a Saturday morning.
I’m the fingers that disarrange your beard when you let it grow too long.
I’m the the smell of bacon when you’re on a diet.
Like it or not, well, I love you.
“…And that was how I defeated an evil clown and earned back the full legal right to my name.”
“A mime, you say? Well, I have no problem fighting fire with fire.”
“Oh, no! You’re not going to cut me with your invisible sword, are you? That would be so scaaaaary.”
“Oh, this isn’t a sword. It’s a rocket launcher.”
Before I forget 🙂
This would make about 2-3 cups of rice. I doubled everything.
By spring I don’t mean a warm, sunny day with cherry blossoms; I mean a raw, yucky day where you can just smell the promise of something good coming along later.
sesame oil, about 1 – 2 Tbs.
1/2 yellow onion, med. diced
1/4 c. slivered almonds
1c. rice (I used sushi rice, but it was a bit gummy)
1/4 – 1/2 c. chopped portabella mushrooms
1/4c. frozen peas
sliced green onions
Serve with soy sauce to taste.
In a large, heavy-bottomed pan, heat 1 -2 Tbs sesame oil over medium-high heat until fragrant. Add the chopped onions, almonds, and rice. Saute until the rice is nutty-smelling and the onions are translucent. Add more oil if the rice isn’t slightly translucent.
Add the recommended amount of water for the type of rice you’re using (more if at a high altitude). Cover the rice and allow to come to a boil, then turn the heat off and allow the rice to soak up the water. About 5-10 minutes before serving, stir in the peas and allow them to thaw.
Serve with soy sauce and green onions. I put teriyaki chicken on top.
Jackie’s Teriyaki (non-teriyaki teriyaki)
1/2 c. honey
2 Tbs. rice wine vinegar
2 Tbs. soy sauce
1 clove garlic, crushed
Stir together. Stir about 2/3 of mixture into bite-sized pieces of chicken breast and let site for 10-20 minutes to marinate a bit. Put on foil-lined pan under broiler for about 5 minutes, pull out, and stir in the last 1/3 of the mixture. Broil for another 1-3 minutes and serve over rice.
Quick reviews, because I’m behind:
The Songlines, Bruce Chatwin. Very readable. Good insights, not only into the Austrailian songlings the book is ostensibly about, but about the human nature to wander and how people have to turn their enemies into beasts — animals — in order to fight them.
The Soup Peddler’s Slow and Difficult Soups, Recipes and Reveries, by David Ansel. This made me miss college towns I have known. Lots of anecdotes about living in a strange little suburby place off Austin. The guy delivers soup to your door…Wah! Why not in Colorado, too?!? The soups look delicious, but I didn’t make any before I took the book back. Has a website.
Perfume, The Story of a Murderer, by Patrick Suskind. This has been made into a movie; I haven’t seen it. The story of a madman with a golden nose, and I’ll say no more of the plot. Wonderfully written. “In eighteenth-century France, there lived a man who was one of the most gifted and abominable personages in an era that knew no lack of gifted and abominable personages.”
Confederacy of Dunces, by John Kennedy Toole. Don’t read this book in large doses unless you have an incredible talent for digesting rich food (or like that guy who eats planes). One of the great comic novels of all time — A Tom Jones of New Orleans. I read it at work and must say it was a great comfort, especially the parts about Levy Pants, to read while enduring the various nonsenses that go on there. The main character has a statue in New Orleans.
The Eight, b y Katherine Neville. Better than The Da Vinci Code by an order or magnatude or two, but I’m an Illuminatus! Trilogy girl. I loved Lily and her dog. I was hoping for a different ending, but the one written made a lot more sense.
Sorcery and Cecelia or The Enchanted Chocolate Pot, Being the Correspondence of Two Young Ladies of Quality Regarding Various Magical Scandals in London and the Country, by Patricia C. Wrede and Carolyn Stevermeyer. Romance, magic, intrigue. Jane Austin meets Stephen Brust. Two pinkies gracefully extended!