I feel compelled to share...

Okay, so, by now you know that I am not a big contributor to this blog! I like to read. I always have a book "going," and I usually like the books I read. My weakness lies in talking about the book afterwards. So, here goes nothing.

It was my turn to host book club and so I had to come up with a book. We tend to lean toward books that are in paperback format, just because they are less expensive. I have recently, however, also sought books that are available in the Kindle format! (You can read about my Kindle obsession at a previous post!)So with those limitations in mind, I embark.

I can generally find a book in Amazon because they helpfully suggest that readers who chose this book also liked this one. And I carefully study the reviews and the story lines deciding what will appeal to the ladies in my group. We are all very varied in our interests, so this can sometimes be daunting. More often than not, I just close my eyes and point once I have the selections narrowed down. This blog is not about my book club book!

This particular book didn't meet any of the necessary criteria. It was a hardcover, and at the time when I "assigned" the book, this one had not yet been published. I added it to my pre-order list and for the most part forgot about it. It downloaded on the day it was promised and I held it in reserve until I finished reading my book club book. (Duty before pleasure!) At last I could start.

The book is called The Night Circus and it is written by Erin Morgenstern. It is not a book I would normally pick up. And far from a book I would traditionally read. I am a bodice ripper fan from way back. I atone by reading my book club books! There was something about the reviews that drew me to this book, and I can't tell you what it was. Once you have read the book, you may believe that I can speculate it was probably magic. In the meantime, you will have to take me at my word.

"The circus arrives without warning." This is the opening line of the book. And you are drawn into a world that is pure imagination. There are descriptions that make you feel as if you are at the circus, smelling the foods, tasting the cocoa, hearing the noises, thrilling in the anticipation, and walking amongst the artists and the patrons of the circus. I think I can safely say that I have never read a book that drew me into it so readily with narratives that almost overwhelm the senses. Colors, costumes, characters, rooms, meals, and ideas so specifically portrayed that you feel as if you are there in the very same place that the story occurs.

To say that this is a book about the circus is to do it a grave injustice. Erin Morgenstern makes you believe in magic. The book would not exist without it. The main thrust of the story pits two individuals with magical abilities against each other. The competition they are forced to take part in is not voluntary, and they are never certain, until close to the end, of the ultimate goal or of the rules of the contest. They are given the circus as a venue to display their talents and they work wonders with our imaginations as they create tents and displays that defy all we can dream of. It is not coincidental that the circus is called "Le Cirque des Reves" The Circus of Dreams. And it opens at nightfall and closes at dawn - when all of the best dreams occur.

There are elements of good vs evil, romance, fear, innocence, wonder, death and heartache. I am still absorbing the impact The Night Circus has had on me. I will continue to think about it for quite some time. And while I have not given you much to go on - I cannot recommend this book enough. I am happy to report that while it was nothing I ever would have picked up at random, it turns out that is exactly what I did. And I will read it again and look forward to learning what I may have missed in the first go-round. The ending satisfied me, if for no other reason than there was no other acceptable ending.

Coincidentally, my mother read this book and finished it a few days before I did. We had a lengthy discussion about it last night on the phone. She was still taking in the magic, herself. We both agreed that we REALLY liked it! Can't wait to hear what YOU think!

In Which I Finally Post This Review

Author's Note: I have been sitting on this review for like, 2 months.  No joke.  Time to brush off the dust.


Over Memorial Day weekend, SmartBitch Sarah was talking of little else than Courtney Milan’s self-published e-novella, Unlocked. There are all kinds of political and logistical reasons this novella is self-published (and only in e-format), and while they are very, very interesting, they really mean nothing to me at this stage.

What meant something to me was the fact that it was supposed to be (and is!) a damn fine book. Er, novella.

We all know how I feel about digital reading (Brief recap for the non-initiated: I like to collect the books. Actual books, not digital files. That is all.), so I bought the e-book and sat on it until one day I was at Scout Camp, had finished the one book I had brought with me, and needed to kill some time.

And oh, what a way to kill some time.

Lady Elaine Warren has been the laughingstock of the ton for about ten years. This is mainly because Evan Carlton, Lord Westfeld, made her the laughingstock, mocking her mercilessly during her first season and encouraging others to do the same. Her obnoxious laugh was the main source of amusement, but also subject to ridicule was/is her mother, a highly intelligent but highly scatterbrained, terribly naive woman.

The story takes place in the “ten years later” part, with Evan returning from a really long sojourn mountain climbing in Chamonix. The reason he left? Well... he was in love with Elaine. Madly, wildly, passionately in love with her. But he was 19. And a bit of a douchebag. And he started making fun of her to a) get her attention and b) put people off of the fact that he wanted her so desperately. The moment he realized that he had gotten her attention in all of the wrongest of ways, he fled.

After meeting up at a house party, Evan immediately starts to make amends. He apologizes to Elaine. He publicly shows the utmost respect to her mother. And then he publicly declares his love for Elaine in front of all of her worst tormentors.

Miraculously, as the reader, you like and believe Evan. It’s not like he comes back and then is confronted with everything he’s done that makes him realize he’s an asshole, he already knows. When he walks in to the ballroom for the first time and sees Elaine, his first thought is only to try to make amends and come to terms with the consequences of his actions.

For her part, Elaine doesn’t trust him (uh... duh), but agrees to a friendship that blossoms in to something more (uh... duh).

This is a quick read, but I would in no way classify it as light or insubstantial. This is a full-fledged romance in novella form, one of the only ones I have ever read that didn’t leave me feeling cheated or yearning for more. The length of this story is exactly right. We get everything we need from the evolution of the relationship (including hot sex) without feeling rushed. There is a sense of history established between Evan and Elaine that you believe from the first minute. And nothing about Elaine’s (SPOILER? No. I mean, honestly...) eventual capitulation feels forced.

I loved this story. So get over your e-book prejudices and go buy it, mmmk?

In Which Monday Menu Mayhem Bounces Back

YOU GUYS.

There are explanations to be made involving travelling for work, moving (Hello, Scout Camp!) having one day out of fourteen to get settled after moving, and then an epic hurricane that knocked out power to everyone I know for at least 3 days.

But explanations are boring, and I have a feeling you didn't notice one way or another that this blog has been shockingly void of new material since July (!!).

So let's just get right back in to it, shall we?

And, starting back on the right foot, I of course have no photo to offer of the Ten-Hour Chicken I made for  Ma, Pa, and Baby Bro Jones on this glorious Labor Day.

I do, however, have an explanation.

It's a Gwyneth concoction, and it's actually the second time I've made it: you squeeze a half a lemon over each end (front/back, top/bottom, whatever you want to call it) of the chicken, then thoroughly salt-and-pepper the whole thing.  Stuff the lemon halves and 3-4 cloves of garlic into the chicken, put it in the pan, and put another 3-4-5 cloves of garlic in the pan, seal tightly with foil, then cook at 200 for nine and a half hours.  At the nine and a half hour mark, you pump the oven up to 400, remove the foil, re-salt-and-pepper, and chuck back in the oven for 15-20 minutes, or until the skin reaches desired brownth.

This is some of the best chicken I've ever eaten.  The foil seal and slow cook keeps all of the moisture in, and all of that lemon and garlic infuses in to every square inch of the chicken.  Additionally, the juice that ends up at the bottom of the pan makes for (literally) effortlessly delicious gravy.

The original recipe calls for the chicken to be cooked breast-side down for the nine and a half hours, and then flipped when the browning needs to occur.  We tried this the first time, and the problem becomes that after nine and a half hours, the chicken falls the frak apart.  In a great way.  In a glorious way.  In a way that makes it impossible to be flipped intact.

Make this chicken, friends.  Make it right side up, and enjoy every bite.

In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday is a Harry Potter Geek Once and Always.

This week I am obsessed with the trailer for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2:



I don't want to be.  I am generally scornful of the Potter films for the simple reason that they always fail to live up to my expectations.  No, I am not one of those people who thinks that every detail needs to be translated perfectly from page to screen (OK, maybe I am).  But generally I find that it's the big details they get wrong that annoy me.

For example, even in the above badass trailer, the number of conversations that He Who Must Not Be Named and Harry have, and the number of locations they have them in, is just strikingly wrong to me.

That said, I am a total sucker for the "It All Ends" tagline they've had running around for months.  And I can't get rid of these pesky goosebumps the trailer gives me, no matter how many times I have to roll my eyes at the inaccuracies.

There's also this piece of awesomeness from Damon Lindelof (that's Mr. Lost to you) about why Voldemort (There! I said it!!!) is The Baddest Villain of Them All.

So maybe I'll just have to get my head out of my ass and go.

In Which I Review Washington by Ron Chernow

It’s time again!

That’s right, time for Kate’s Non-Fiction Read of the Quarter. Except I might actually be slower than once-per-quarter.

My latest car-pick was Washington: A Life by Ron Chernow, who I would now put in the same ohmyholyhellawesome category as the ohmyholyhellawesome David McCullough.

I don’t remember my specific reasons for picking George Washington as my next biography subject, because I can’t say that he’s ever interested me before. In fact, talking to some peeps (you know, some peeps), it struck/continues to strike me that he’s not someone who has interested many people.

He was the first President of the United States. He’s the reason we won the Revolutionary War. He’s on the one dollar bill. He owned Mount Vernon. Our nation’s capital is named after him. He has a phallic-looking monument.

What more is there to say than that?

Tons.

As interesting as it is to read 1776 and to understand how many times we almost did not become the United States of America (A buttload of times. Those boys were flying by the seat of their pants), it is just as interesting to read Washington and to understand how close George Washington was to not becoming the father of our country. His father died, leaving everything to his older brother. Then his brother died leaving everything to his family. Then his family died, and Washington inherited by default. His commission in the army during the French and Indian War was based on who he knew as a result of all of the upheaval in his life, and if not for the death of her first husband (and the subsequent load if cash he left to her), Martha Custis would never have been on the marriage market to begin with.

Washington was a religious man, but he did not belong to a particular religion. He would better be classified as a man of faith. He owned slaves and was not always an awesome master, but he at least tried to be fair most of the time, refusing to break up families, etc.

Once again, it was striking to me (and a little heartening) to learn that American politics was and has always been a dirty business. By the end of Washington's first term, the Jeffersonians were conspiring against him to undercut him on just about every level, and it got very nasty. In fact, I have officially decided, after some research into the subject (including but not limited to John Adams and Washington) that Thomas Jefferson was a douchebag. Differences in politics aside, the dude was an asshole.

At the end of the day, I feel like I have a better understanding if the man who founded our great nation, who lead a rag-tag bunch of foot soldiers to defeat the greatest empire on the planet (at the time). He was a pretty cool dude. I wouldn't go so far as to say I like him more than, say, John Adams (his Vice President), but the stoic and silent Washington is now infinitely more real to me than he was before. For that reason alone, I highly recommend this book.

Up next? I'm definitely going to have to check out Alexander Hamilton, also by Ron Chernow. Did you know Hamilton was one of Washington's lieutenants? Yeah, me neither. Here we go.

In Which Monday Menu Mayhem Reviews a Book.

Remember what I said last time about the apologizing?  Right.

In the way that A Lot Like Love is frothy, fun, sexy nonsense, If His Kiss Is Wicked is delicious, substantial loveliness.

Next time I hesitate about reading a Jo Goodman book, someone bash me vigorously about the head with a sharp object, mmmmmk?

(This is my second Goodman book, if you’ll recall. Last year I read the highly recommended Never Love a Lawman. I’ve been sitting on this one since then for reasons known only to The Goddess of Deciding Which Book to Read)

The place to begin when reviewing books is with the summary. But I have to be honest, I have no idea how to summarize the plot of this book, and I don’t really want to. It’s best when it unfolds before you, because it’s so layered and nuanced, and no summary I could give would do it justice.

What I will talk about, though, is the relationship between the protagonists, Emma and Restell. It is not spoiling anything to say that Emma seeks Restell out for protection, Restell provides it, and their relationship grows from there. Two of their exchanges had me so enthralled that I had to note them.

The first comes when Restell proposes marriage, and Emma questions him on a great number of things, including his logic for making such a proposal and his reasons for not making the same one to her cousin:

“No.” He sipped his tea. “I am not going to propose to your cousin, Emma, so you should not entertain hope on that score.”
“I only suggested it to point out the failure of your reasoning, not because I hoped you would act on it. If we were to marry, you could expect to hear regular reports on your failures of reason. That should give you pause.”
“That depends. Would you apprise me of them at breakfast or dinner?”
“Breakfast, I suspect.”
“Then it presents no problem. I will be reading my paper and am likely to ignore you.”

This exchange, in case you were wondering, is perfection crispy-fried on a stick. Two droll personalities (clearly established), hashing out that most romantic of pursuits in the least romantic way possible. And yet the idea of the contented, real love the picture presents is flawless (after all, who doesn’t know a happily married couple who engages in that sort of behavior?)

The second passage that caught my attention comes after they are married, right after Emma realizes she loves Restell. She comes home and collapses on the chaise with a cold compress over her eyes. That’s where Restell finds her:

“Lady Rivendell announced to your mother, your married sisters, and Marisol that I clearly love you. You will not credit it, Restell, but I am certain she’s right.”
Restell found a space on the chaise where he could sit. He lowered himself somewhat slowly to that spot as he considered his response. “So you came home and prostrated yourself across the chaise. Yes, I can see how that would be the thing to do. The compress makes me think the feeling has not passed.”

Goodman is the master of showing not telling. I mean, look at those passages. Emma wants Restell even at the beginning (note that she does not want him to propose to her cousin), but she never makes any grand declaration. Rather she proceeds cautiously, making sure he has thought everything through.

For his part, Restell questions Emma a bit more on the chaise:

“Does [this newfound feeling] make you afraid?”
“A little.”
“Then I am not the only one. That is good to know.”

So much subtlety! Such depth! I love love love this book. It’s absolutely freaking glorious. Just go read it, OK? I’ll even loan you my copy if you promise to bring it back.

In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday...

OK.  This is what we're going to do.

For the rest of the summer, I am going to post as much as I can, and if (read: when) I am late, I'm not going to apologize.  It's going to keep happening, and the constant contrition is going to get old for all of us.  So let's just go with it.

And now, obsessive links!

From the *HeadDesk* department of WTF-ery, comes SB Sarah's remarkable response to a remarkably horrific article about the effect of romance articles on female perceptions and sexuality.  Let's just say that you learn research techniques in middle school that are better than those used to write this annoying piece of drivel (To clarify: the article is drivel.  SB Sarah's response is badass).

From the *This Might Have to Be My New Cult Favorite* department of Awesomesauce comes this critique and clip of the upcoming show Once Upon a Time.  Does the premise sound awkward and ill-thought-out?   Perhaps.  But then there's the fact that it comes from the writers of Lost.  There's also the fact that the clip is... awesome.  Go to there.

Also, those just catching up to the UK phone hacking scandal should check out this article from the June issue of Vanity Fair.  We could be witnessing their Watergate.

And finally, from the *Start Lining Up Already* department of GAH! comes the news that the Arrested Development feature film is alive and well.  And anything George Bluth says must be... exaggerated for the manipulation of his stockholders.  Nonetheless.  This time next year, people!!

Have a lovely weekend.

In Which I Review A Lot Like Love by Julie James

On my continuing quest to read everything I own (and some things that may or may not be on their way to my house from Amazon...), I finally read A Lot Like Love, Julie James’ follow-up to Something About You.

Jordan Rhodes is the daughter of a billionaire. Yep, billionaire with a “b.” Fortunately her father was not always rich, and Jordan has enough sense of mind and dignity to be everything but Paris Hilton. She owns and runs a successful wine shop that she started by herself, and she is well-regarded in the Chicago community.

Sure, her brother is in prison for being something called the “Twitter Terrorist” (this is hilarious in full detail, btw) and she’s got the FBI knocking on her door, but other than that things are ducky.

Nick McCall is an FBI agent back from an undercover assignment who needs to infiltrate the office of a big-time, mob-connected Chicago restauranteur. He and his colleagues get Jordan to take him in to the premises under the pretext of being her date, and in exchange they offer her brother freedom from prison.

Nick and Jordan spark pretty instantly (and not really in a positive way) but it’s only a matter of time before their faux relationship (of course there’s a faux-relationship... it’s a romance novel, people!) leads to lots of making out and hot sex in Napa Valley bathtubs.

The plot/suspense/danger/threat element of the story was fairly weak, but I have to say I didn’t really care. I really liked Nick, and his background (raised by an Italian mother in Brooklyn) was very, very funny to read about. I liked Jordan, too. She’s the kind of character who so easily could have been annoying and vapid, but actually the kind of billionaire’s daughter I could be friends with-- not a complete asshole and possessing of a great deal of perspective about life.

There were portions of this book that had me laughing out loud. Julie James is definitely growing into her own as the writer of witty male/female relations, and these characters really came alive for me.

Let me be clear: this is not a heavy romance of substance. (That one’s coming soon when I review Jo Goodman’s If His Kiss is Wicked.) This is an ideal beach romance, one you can read through quickly and finish before the sun goes down. Though I warn you, you will want to go out for a nice glass of wine after.

In Which Monday Menu Mayhem Cannot Get Its Act Together

Yesterday was a holiday so it doesn't count, right?

Right?

So I totally cooked, but then got distracted by things like Alias marathons, fireworks, people playing Katy Perry songs about fireworks, John Adams on HBO, and the shockingly bad dialogue from Independence Day.

I was like, 12 when that movie came out.  I remember it being a lot more badass.

And then it was way too late to be Mayheming, and I hoped you all would understand.  I'm only human, and this summer is already kicking my ass.  And it's only July 5, you guys.

We had to go with simple cooking this weekend, because nothing else about this glorious three-day-off-ness was simple.  I roasted some cauliflower.

Gwyneth told me how to do it-- 425 degree oven, olive oil-salt-and-pepper-tossing, 35 minutes with the occasional stir.  Donezo.

This recipe was a little shocking to me because I kind of adored it.  A lot.  I am not classically a cauliflower fan ("Why the eff would you make it, then," you ask? "Er... Because I'm out of my mind?") but this was awesome.  The sweetness was perfect, and there was enough caramelization to make me srsly happy.

No picture.  I think I might have failed to mention how much I absolutely do not have my act together.  I didn't forget to mention that?  OK.  Good.

In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday is Inspired.

This is a couple of weeks old, but the sentiments and the general inspirationality of it all are still resonating with me.  Team CoCo fo' sho'.

In Which I Review Two (Yes, TWO!) Erin McCarthy's

I’m reviewing these two books together because I read them back-to-back, they belong to the same series, and because I’m not sure I could come up with a substantial review for either of them individually.

Also, because it’s my blog and I can do whatever I want. Ha.

Erin McCarthy’s Fast Track novels have been celebrated in romance forums for a number of reasons, not the least of which being that they are contemporary, present-day novels that do not feature vampires, werewolves, succubi, or alternate dimensions.

They also follow a group of racecar drivers, which is fairly unique. And let me say, that after reading these books, I am much less likely to complain should Boy Scout take it into his head to start watching Cup racing.

Hot Finish is the story of Suzanne and Ryder, the divorced-couple-who-can’t-seem-to-shake-each-other who have been lynch-pinning the previous two books. Suz up and left one day, Ryder’s not really sure why, and now they’re divorced. They're sort-of friendly, only not. Sort-of. Only it turns out that they’re not divorced because Ryder never showed up for his court date.

How convenient.

The book mainly focuses on the reconciliation and reformation of their relationship, beginning with the discovery of their still-marriage, and culminating in lots of dirty sex. Wa-hoo.

My main problem with this book is that I didn’t particularly like either Ryder or Suzanne. They were obviously in love with each other for the entirety of their “divorce,” and the fact that it took until the end of the goddamn book for them to have an honest conversation brought both of them in to seriously TSTL territory. And while I’m glad that (SPOILER ALERT) they ended up preggers in the end, I have to say that if being less than 12 hours late in taking your Pill is that dangerous, we’re all in serious trouble.

In the end, I was glad they were back together, but Suzanne’s continual lack of clear direction in her life was still a little staggering (Law school? Just like that allofasudden?) and Ryder’s simple (though sweet) declaration of love made it a little “whydidIhavetoread291pagestogethere?”

The Chase, on the other hand, was much better for me. Evan Monroe (brother of the oh-so-yummy Elec) holds a grudge against rookie girl driver Kendall Holbrook for breaking his heart when he was nineteen. She holds a grudge against him for making fun of her driving aspirations, causing her to dump him.

The beautiful thing is that they have an honest conversation pretty much first thing in the book, and by page 57 they’re humping on the hood of her car. Hawt.

It takes them a while (but not as long as you’d think!) to figure out what they’re doing together, what it means for their careers, etc. But in the end they are both honest and communicative and they make it work.

If I had to name a problem I have with The Chase, it’s that it’s dangerously close to re-hashed territory. Skittish and emotionally distant female? Original, except we’ve seen it already (and been annoyed by it) in Suzanne. Slightly troubled, former manwhore driver? That would by Ty McCordle. Slutfest pregnancy scare as a result of former manwhoredom? Yeah. That was in the book about Evan’s brother, Elec.

Slow Ride, out this coming October, features Kendall’s friend, racing gossip-blogger Tuesday Jones and some dude I’ve never heard of before. If two virtual-unknowns means fresh story, I’m totally down.


In Which Monday Menu Mayhem Apologizes

It is with a thousand apologies that I beg your forgiveness for the lack of Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday last week.  You may or may not know that I was travelling, and quite honestly, Thursday came and went without my even thinking about this blog.  Sacrilege, darling.

At any rate, I've still got a buttload of reviews up my sleeve AND I COOKED THIS WEEKEND.  Somehow.  I cooked.

It was way simple, too.  Basically Gwyneth told me to cook up some soy sauce, honey, mirin (Substitute with sake?  Yeah, sure!), ginger (Which you should not lose in the bottom of your Whole Foods bag), and cilantro (Which you should not ignore, because you're "one of those people" who can't even look at cilantro without getting squicked).  Once that's all cool, she told me to marinate some salmon in it.

Presto.

I liked this recipe, though I think I would have liked it better if we had let the salmon marinate longer (than an hour).  The honey makes sure everything gets a little crispy under the broiler, and all of the flavors blend perfectly with the salmon.  I do recommend boiling the marinade down afterward to make a sauce, but I do not recommend boiling it down to the point that it turns into a preliminary version of tar.  Like I did.

We've been experimenting with a lot of marinades lately (to dress up my constant servings of protein), and while this was not my favorite, I think it has a lot of potential, and I would like to play with it some more.  I would also like to try it on the grill (As opposed to in the broiler, per the recipe and our own cooking limitations) but that will have to wait for another time.

Up next?  Reviews like you've never seen them before!!

In Which I Finally Review Kresley Cole's Latest

It has taken me a while to read Kresley Cole’s newest book, Dreams of a Dark Warrior, thanks to the Great Paranormal Detox of 2011.

As you may or may not know, I have spent a lot time over the life of this blog contemplating my love affair with the Immortals After Dark Series, and whether or not I was going to continue said affair after a certain point.

Dark Warrior, Regin’s entry into the saga, was surprising to me in that it left me wanting more, more, more.

Since the Immortals’ inception, we’ve heard about Regin the Radiant, her glowing skin, her drugging kiss, and the fact that she has been pursued through time by Aidan the Fierce, a Berserker she kissed so far back that there’s not even a year attached to the date. Aidan died almost immediately upon the consummation of their relationship (back in the day), but has been reincarnated three times since.

When he comes back, he knows only that being with other women does not feel right (to the point that one of the incarnations belonged to a monastic order), and he is always a renowned warrior. Regin recognizes him by general feeling and then by looking in his eyes (as he is always drawn to her). He always remembers their history when she kisses him, and he always dies within hours of consummating their romance.

Smash cut to: present day Hell Island, where The Initiative (I mean, The Order) is holding the Immortals prisoner for experimentation, interrogation, and eventual execution. Declan Chase, drugged-up head of the facility, is drawn particularly to Regin the Radiant, the first Valkyrie ever brought in to the facility. Of course, Regin takes one look at the Immortal-hating asshole of a warden and recognizes the newest version of her long-lost love.

To pretend that this is even close to the summary of this 515 page book is laughable. Because it is the ninth book in the series and the last several have been taking place practically simultaneously, there are a lot of loose ends and overlaps and callbacks and criss-crossings. I had forgotten that Lucia ditched Regin to go kill Cruach with Garreth in Pleasure of a Dark Prince, and that Carrow had watched in horror as Regin was brought back from her vivisection (yes, it’s as nasty as it sounds) in Demon From the Dark. And that Lothaire, Enemy of Old and nemesis of our girl Nucking Futs Nix, has been running around in the background of all of three books.

(Note to self: time for an IAD re-read marathon. Will probably hold off though, until we’re ready for Lothaire’s book next year)

I was intrigued by Declan and the fact that he kept his natural (but unknown to him) Berserker tendencies at bay with heavy doses of opiates and sedatives. He hasn’t had sex in years, not just because of the serious drugs he’s on, but because every time he does, he feels so ill he cannot bring himself to finish. It feels wrong. For a while, I really thought it would be better if this incarnation of Aidan died, and Regin waited to get a fresh start to find a way to break the curse with the next guy. Declan is seriously damaged, and even the Immortals can’t blame him for his treatment of them when they find out what some Neoptras did to him and his family in the past. However, in the end it was very clear that Declan was the best version of Aidan for our girl Regin. They were bound by the whole (slightly unclear) Berserker matehood thing, but they also came to a real understanding of one another, and I definitely bought them together, despite all of the truly awful things that had happened to them along the way.

I didn’t think I would like Regin As Heroine, but reading her story was rather like going out for drinks with a friend of a friend that you never really thought you’d be friends with yourself. Running around threatening the heroes in other stories, acting nutso during Talisman’s Hies, being a party-hardy NOLA girl is not all there is to this picture. I knew she had spent a lot of time trying to flee Aidan’s newest incarnation (even before she knew exactly who it was), and I thought it was because she wasn’t really in to him. Not so. Rather it was because she had lost him so many times she didn’t know if she could take it again. And I never would have known that had I skipped out on drinks. Or rather, her story.

Next up in the series is a book about Lothaire (How intrigued are we to read a book about The Bad Guy? SO INTRIGUED!), and apparently Nix is up after that. I would say I’m skeptical, but who am I kidding? I’m ready for more, however Kresley Cole wants to deliver it.

In Which Monday Menu Mayhem is Hot

Greetings mayhem-ers, from sunny, hot as hell Phoenix. Yep, that's right, we're on the road this week, and I've already begun to regret my books-for-forced-reading choices. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll get over it.

In the meantime, we cooked! Somehow, in the midst of a truly insane Father's Day weekend (Yay Dad and Granddads Jones!), I made Chilled Cucumber Soup for dinner.

And boy, would Boy Scout appreciate it if I never made such a thing, like, ever again.

It's not that it was bad, it was just not really anywhere in the vicinity of good. Something about cucumbers and a whole mess of onions (red, scallions) seemed like just the right thing, but then turned out not to be.

Full disclosure: I used fat free dairy products in the making of this soup (Greek yogurt and half & half), and left out the dill, mostly because I couldn't find any anywhere. Granted, I didn't try too hard because it's not my favorite thing in the world, but nonetheless, if I had found some, I would have used it.

Anyway, you're supposed to stick 2 cucumbers, a red onion, 6 scallions, the yogurt and the half & half in the blender. Which I did. Then I added the lemon juice as required before serving. I did not garnish with shrimp because I did not feel it was necessary. It was just the two of us, after all, but I suspect this is half of Boy Scout's problem. If only because he told to me outright that that was part of his problem.

I really did take a picture if the soup, but right now it requires more effort than I have to expend to figure out how to get that picture from the gallery in my phone to this blog entry right here. It is a shockingly difficult task.

Voila. Monday? Check. Menu? Check. Mayhem? Check. Stay cool out there.

In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Revisits Some Old Promises

Remember a long-ass time ago when I told you I would come back to the "other things" I liked about Elizabeth Hoyt's Legend of the Four Soldiers Series?

Well, gather 'round, children.  It's time.

The first book in the Four Soldiers series begins with a prologue that, well... begins the story of the Four Soldiers.  You with me?  Emeline, the heroine of To Taste Temptation, was read The Legend of the Four Soldiers by her nanny when she was younger.  The nanny was Prussian and the book that she read from was in Prussian (?), and Emeline wants the book translated.  Melisande, the heroine of the To Seduce a Sinner, can translate the thing.  Helen of To Beguile a Beast has lovely penmanship and transcribes the thing.  Oh, and it just so happens that Beatrice of To Desire a Devil knows how to bind books.  Just sayin'.

So each of our Four Soldiers' tales is accompanied by a "fictional" Four Soldiers tale.  Before each chapter is a little piece of the fairy-tale story, and each epilogue wraps everything together, finishing the sub-story and illuminating the grander theme within our novel.

Iron Heart, Laughing Jack, Truth Teller, and Longsword each fight their own mythic battles for the princesses they love (Solace, Surcrease, Sympathy, and Serenity, respectively).  Obviously the tales feature parallel obstacles to those faced by our Soldiers, and the princesses represent what our heroines give them.

While the whole "each heroine has a part to play" thing is a little much, I do like this common thread for the women throughout all of the stories.  The men have their war, and the women have these tales, and to be honest, they don't really have much interaction with one another from one book to the next.  It is their only real connection.  At the end of To Desire a Devil, the unveiling of the books that Beatrice has bound is quite interesting, because it really gives the reader a sense of how much these women have bonded, if unknowingly.

The other thing I want to mention is the time period in which these books take place.  In my mind (and quite generally speaking) there are three time periods of historical romance novels- Medieval, Regency and Victorian/American West.  The Legend of the Four Soldiers takes place about six years after the end of the French and Indian War, which places it squarely in the Colonial period.  I had to keep reminding myself to picture corsets and powdered wigs rather than empire waists and Hessian boots.  Very strange.  But very cool.  It was refreshing to read something different.  And for that reason alone this is a series worth checking out.

In Which I Review Breaking Point by Pamela Clare

So hiatus is pretty awesome for things like reading books. Reading lots of books, even. Reading books like Breaking Point by Pamela Clare.

This is yet another entry in the I-Team investigators series, of which I’ve already reviewed a couple of books. This one follows New Orleans belle Natalie Benoit, who pretty much from the first sentence of the book is in seriously deep trouble. While away at a conference in Mexico, she finds herself in the middle of a murderous rampage by a local cartel, is then kidnapped by said cartel, and is hauled off to be murdered herself, probably following some pretty horrific torture.

Sucks to be her.

But it also sucks to be Zach McBride, US Marshall, who finds himself in the custody of the aforementioned cartel because they think he stole a shipment of cocaine from them. He’s already been undergoing intensive torture for about six days before Natalie is thrown into the cell next to him.

Natalie and Zach manage to work together to escape the cartel, make their way through Mexico (at great peril), cross the US/Mexico border (at great peril), and then finally make their endangered way back to Denver to investigate the suspicious circumstances of Natalie’s capture. Hot sex, lots of “this is not a serious relationship” talk, and “oh why can’t this be a serious relationship?” thoughts abound.

Overall this was a solid contemporary with lots of characters we already know, lots of awesome and not-so-awesome happenings, and a fine romance (even if Zach does go from “I can’t do this” to “I must do this” rather quickly).

I did have a couple of issues. Natalie has been noted as a mysterious figure in the I-Team, coming to Denver after Katrina and never talking about her past. It turns out that during the hurricane she was locked in a morgue locker by a sociopath. And then, after she was rescued, her parents and her fiance were killed in a car accident on the way to get her.

Now look, it makes sense for Natalie to have no one waiting for her return from this ordeal. And I’m totally down with a character who has tragedy in his or her past. But all of those things had to happen to her? Really? OK. Even if we accept that all of those things had to happen, did they have to happen all in the same day? Like, her trauma couldn’t have been the storm on Monday? Then the locker thing on Tuesday? And the simultaneous death of everyone she loves on Wednesday? (Which by the way, she has to own no matter what-- they were coming to see her).

It just seemed like overkill.

On the other hand, I do have to appreciate Clare’s courage (and yes, it is courage) in allowing sometimes bad things to happen to her characters. In Naked Edge, Gabe loses part of his leg trying to save the woman he loves. In Breaking Point, Darcangelo mentions that Tessa is not doing well because she had a miscarriage a couple of months ago, and is suffering the difficult beginnings of a new pregnancy. Later, in the book’s climax, (SPOILER?) Darcangelo’s thumb is severed during the conflict. This lends a weight of realism to the stories, and a feeling that there could be consequences for the characters.

I think a lot of authors (ahem) would be afraid to have bad things happen to their characters, both because of their own feelings toward them and because of fan reaction. I’m not saying that I would love it if the characters died, and despite my issues with Tessa and Darcangelo’s story (see: DNF), I’m sorry to hear both about her miscarriage and his thumb. But in the end it makes them feel more like real-life people, and to me that's the mark of a solid book, and a solid series.

In Which Monday Menu Mayhem Comes Back With a Vengeance.

Friends, blog-ees, countrymen.

First if all, thank you for your epic amounts of patience with my absentee-ism.  It's been a long-ass two weeks (Two out of the last three Mondays I have dined at the Legal Seafood at Logan Airport.  And those are not the only two times I have been to Logan in the past two weeks).  I had intended to be back in full-force last week, but this was one of those "vacations" that doubles as the exact polar opposite of a vacation, and I'm afraid I had to spend all of my spare time last week sleeping, decompressing and... reading :)

Yes, I have five book reviews in my back pocket.  No, I'm not going to break them out right now.

NOT ON MONDAY MENU MAYHEM!!

So.  As we bust through the first half of 2011 (holyhellhowdidthathappen?) we bust through MMM paradigms.  We are not a Nigella-only establishment any longer.  We still heart Nigella, and we will still cook from Nigella Kitchen like nobody's business.  But enough of this self-limiting nonsense, yes?

This weekend was filled with cooking and cooking and more cooking, which is a little shocking, because I'm on this new diet (I promise not to mention this excessively... I can really think of nothing more boring than that... I'm also not an advertising campaign for anything except books, so I'm not going to name the diet.  I'll just say it's working).  ANYWAY, I'm on this new diet, and I basically can eat... chicken.  So this cooking thing was surprising and heartening, given that I was afeared the MMM would have to go away for a while.

I made kale chips.  Dude, I don't even know what came over me.  I've been hearing a lot about them recently, and then a friend on Facebook made them and posted about it, and basically my thought process was "If someone I know in real-life is making them and it's not only the food of my faux-BFF Gwyneth Paltrow, I must be able to make them too."  In other words, it became less an ambrosia, and more of a mortal food.

It was super easy too!  Tear up some kale.  Toss with olive oil.  Roast for about 10 minutes at 400.  Also, use considerably less salt than I did.  Potato chips these were not, but as far as toasted leafy greens go, they got thumbs up from none other than a seriously skeptical Boy Scout.  After announcing that they were just "aiight," he proceeded to keep stealing pieces out of the bowl while lecturing me on the fact that I was removing them from Scout Camp to my office for the week.  I'll take that as a "like."

There was also the traditional roasting of the tomatoes, which is truly one of the great seasonal ironies.  Must roast fresh tomatoes.  When are tomatoes the best?  In the broiling summer sun!  How do we roast tomatoes?  By turning on the oven for HOURS at a time.  This is also a Gwyneth recipe: more chopping, more tossing with the olive oil (also salt and pepper), and then thrown on a cookie sheet face up for about 3 hours on 275.  Voila.  I really try to save these for things... salads, sauces, soups... but then I just eat them out of the bowl in about 10 minutes.  They're that awesome.

That's not all we made this weekend, but that's about all I'm prepared to sum-up for the time being.  My hands are out of practice with all of this typing...

Happy Monday, everyone.  And thanks for having me back.

In Which I Review To Desire a Devil by Elizabeth Hoyt

Yes yes yes.  I have finished the final installment of Elizabeth Hoyt's Legend of the Four Soldiers series.

And I may or may not have ordered the books in her next series.  Let's not talk about that right now.

SPOILER McSPOILER WARNING ABOUT SPOILERS.  This review contains information about the ending of the Four Soldiers series and details that you may or may not want to be a surprise.  The book is two years old, though, and you can get most of the spoilerage by reading the book description.  Consider yourself warned.

So throughout the Legend of the Four Soldiers there have really only been three soldiers that we're aware of.  There's Samuel Hartley, Lord Vale, and Alistair Munroe.  "Who," we think to ourselves, "Can the fourth book possibly be about?"

How about Reynaud St. Aubyn, the very reason Samuel Hartley comes to England to seek out his Emmeline in book one (you'll recall, perhaps, that Reynaud is her brother), the thought of whom torments the Spinners Falls survivors the most.  Lord Vale especially, has vivid memories of his childhood friend being crucified and burned alive.

Which is a slight problem.  In all three previous books, the three men speak with black-and-white certainty about the fact that they saw Reynaud crucified and burned alive (after he was tortured).  There's no hesitation.  They saw him.  Until book four, when they saw a man whose face had already been burned beyond recognition, a man they had been told was Reynaud.

I don't have a problem with this.  I want a book Reynaud, and I want everything to come together.  I just need to say that there's a definite weakness in the thread.

Reynaud was indeed taken hostage by the natives in the Spinners Falls incident, was indeed dragged off to be a slave (with potential to be crucified later on) but managed, through sheer force of luck, to just get tortured a lot.  He eventually escapes captivity and manages to get home, only to stumble directly into the new Earl of Blanchard's political tea.

The new Earl is a distant cousin of Reynaud's who inherited the title after Reynaud's father died (following Reynaud's supposed fatality on the American frontier).  He now lives in the Blanchard townhouse with his lovely niece, Beatrice.

Because of course he has a lovely niece named Beatrice.  And of course Beatrice has spent so much time gazing longingly at the portrait of Reynaud in the study that she knows exactly who he is when he bursts into the party, all hairy and emaciated.  And of course the two become enamored of each other pretty instantly.

Their relationship is a lot rawer than the others, because Reynaud himself is rawer- just barely this side of civilized after having spent so long fending for himself in the wilderness.  I would classify this as the most "traditional" romance of the four.  Beatrice is all virginal and headstrong, and Reynaud is all chest-thumpy-while-growling "mine."  All the time.  This is not a bad thing (I do like me some chest-thumping), but I do find it surprising, considering how "real" and "different" the relationships were in the previous three books.

Reynaud's return triggers a series of events that culminates in the discovery of the traitor who sold them out at Spinners Falls.  I'm not going to spoil this, but it's because I almost don't care.  I mean, I do care.  I invested time in these books and I enjoyed the hell out of them.  But to me the point isn't who committed this fictional crime.  It's about the characters and how they fit and come together.  It's about new and different characters and stories, and it's about the fact that I have a new auto-buy historical author.

I have more to say about this series, but I'm going to save it for an Obsessed.  Be prepared.

In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Finally Talks About Parks and Recreation

NOTE: This post was originally published the day Blogger went to hell in a handbasket.  I fixed something on it tonight, and now it's considered a new post.  Not sure why, and I'm really annoyed that I can't fix it.  You've already read it, probably.  I'm still on hiatus, dammit.  Nothin' to see here.  (Unless there is?)

I have been obsessed with Parks and Recreation for weeks now, but other obsessions have taken precedence. Not so, this week.

The fact that this show was created by those who bring us The Office did not persuade me to try it right away. I don't know why, except that it was probably a timing thing, and we all know that I like to let shows gestate before I commit myself. This spring Parks has been garnering a metric ton of buzz, including an Entertainment Weekly cover, and I finally decided it was time.

Parks and Recreation follows Leslie Knope, an extremely enthusiastic and civic-minded Deputy-Head of the Pawnee, Indiana Parks and Recreation Department. Leslie, played with perfect naive/innocent pitch my Amy Poehler, has high aspirations for her life. Only in her mid-thirties, she wants to be the Head of the Parks Department and then climb the political ladder to eventually become President of the United States. This is how we know for sure that Parks and Rec is from the twisted minds if The Office... The only other character on television that optimistically delusional is/was the beloved Michael Scott.

Leslie is surrounded by a motley crew of small town characters, ranging from her uber-capitalist boss, Ron Swanson (the priceless Nick Offerman) to his moody, mono-syllabic assistant, April (Aubrey Plaza). Rounding out the cast is the creepy/awesome Tom (Aziz Ansari), Leslie's best friend Ann (Rashida Jones) and Ann's doofy ex-boyfriend Andy (Chris Pratt).

The rise of Parks oddly mirrors that of The Offce; the first season is mostly eh with flashes of the brilliance that emerges fully from minute one of season two.

Ah yes, the brilliance. The brilliance lies in the total believability of the characters, of the plot, of the setting. As a girl who grew up in (and still occasionally resides in) a small town, I defy anyone from similar circumstances to find non-realism in this show. Is it sometimes absurd? Sure. But so is life in a small town. So are small town politics. In fact, as a note to Parks writers, I submit this latest local headline as a potential future plot point: White Powder Scare at Clinton School. Make sure and read the final outcome.

And tell me there's not a half hour sitcom episode in that.

In Which There is Hiatus

It's big-time season-finales week, which means one thing for a lot of people who make television shows: hiatus.

The next two weeks are insane for me.  Like, two-weddings-on-two-continents-within-six-days insane.  I plan to do a lot of reading.  But I do not plan on having the mental capacity to write about it coherently.

Also, I just started a new diet (ugh, I can't believe I just wrote that) and I need some time to get going before I completely re-vamp Menu Mayhem.

THUSLY, I hiat.  Or something like that.  When I come back there will be the new Monday Menu Mayhem I spoke of, at least three new book reviews (Providing I don't get hugely distracted by the Virgin Atlantic onboard entertainment... Hello, all of the movies I've been dying to see...), and I will be coherent once more.  Maybe.

Have a glorious two weeks, friends, and enjoy the May/June transition.

In Which I Review To Beguile A Beast by Elizabeth Hoyt

What else did I do this weekend?

I READ ANOTHER FREAKING BOOK.

This is very exciting for me.  The calendar and work are closing in on me like... something that closes in on people and makes them panicky and claustrophobic.  At this point in time, the most important thing for me is to seize the "ohmygodit'ssoquiet"moment when I can.  It's good for me.  It's good for Boy Scout.  And more importantly, it's good for all of the people who have to interact with me on a daily basis.

Sunday there was quiet time.  And it was very, very good.  For everyone involved.

At any rate, I plowed through the third book in The Legend of the Four Soldiers series like nobody's business.  Beguile picks up weeks after To Seduce a Sinner leaves off, with on-the-run-mistress Helen Fitzwilliam appearing on the doorstep of Castle Greaves with her two children and an assignment from Sinner's Melisande to be the new housekeeper.  Greeting them not-so-jovially at the door of the decrepit manor is Alistair Munroe, leading naturalist, master of the domain, seriously mutilated former solider.

Aside from the dudes who were burned alive at Spinner's Falls, it could be argued that Alistair Munroe suffered the worst torture: the natives cut off two of his fingers, took out his eye, and carved up the side of his face.  Beyond the understandable need to recuperate after such a traumatic event, Munroe has sequestered himself because his appearance tends to illicit obnoxious reactions from the faint-hearted ladies of the day.

Helen acknowledges that his scars are ugly, and it takes her a bit to get used to looking at him, but Alistair's looks are not the reason he is the Beast in this scenario.  Alistair has also spent way too long by himself in his dirty castle, and he has the attitude of a rabid hippo.  Fortunately he comes to terms with his new (and adamant) house guest and switches from "why won't you leave?" to "why can't I get you out of my head?" and "can we please make out?" fairly quickly.

The main conflict in the book is that Helen is on the run from her Sugar Daddy, the Duke of Lister.  Lister is a rather possessive man who, while never acting outwardly violent, certainly has enough peripheral thoughts of strangling Helen to make him an alarming villain.  Of course he comes for his children, of course he kidnaps them, of course Alistair has already grown into the role of father/protector and all but races off to fetch them from the bad man.

Ultimately this is beside the point.  What we have here is another lovely, sexy romance between two adult people who face their hopes, dreams, and fears as best they can in order to be together.  Could they stand to have a conversation or two more in life?  Sure.  But who can't?  To Beguile a Beast is an excellent addition to the Four Soldiers series, and it has made me all the more intrigued for To Desire a Devil.  I know who it's about (no, I'm not telling yet...), but I can't figure out how it's about that person.  I guess it's time to go find out!

In Which Monday Menu Mayhem is Disappointed

Another weekend, another Nigella recipe.

A word about this: we've now been dissecting Nigella Kitchen since the beginning of the year.  I don't know how you all feel about it, but I have been generally pleased with the experience.  That said, it's coming up on June, and I'm running out of recipes that I want to make out of this book, in addition to the fact that I now have the Gwyneth Paltrow Bible, and Boy Scout regularly cooks from Barefoot Contessa's Back to Basics.  The next few weeks are pretty insane in the membrane, but I think that come June 1, we'll extend our Mayhem into other venues.  Oh, Nigella's still on the... menu.  We're just expanding the choices.

In the meantime, Sunday night meant the trial of My [Her] Mother's Prized Chicken.  Photographic evidence:

Yes, there is chicken under there.  As is a serving of white rice.

This recipe was actually a huge disappointment to be.  When something is called Your Mother's Prized anything, you know it's got to be something special.  At least, that's my interpretation of that title.  What this boiled down to (har) was a poached chicken soup.

You brown a whole chicken, add vermouth, carrots, leeks, and celery, over it with herbs and cold water and simmer for 2 hours.

That's it.

So yeah, I should have known it would have been awfully boring (In fact, I did... I added a huge glug of white wine with the cold water), but somehow I expected it all to magically pull together.  The healthy dose of mustard prescribed for serving in the recipe along with salt and pepper saved us from bland-hell, but ultimately I came to the conclusion that if I wanted chicken soup, my own made-up recipe was better.  And as far as fancy, long-cook Sunday dinners go, there are a lot better ones out there.

As Boy Scout said, there was nothing wrong with this dish, but there was certainly nothing spectacular about it, either.

In Which I Review To Taste Temptation by Elizabeth Hoyt.

So this seems to be the latest pattern of my life: I give a paperback to Wendy Pan, she reads it (maybe), and then goes and buys the rest of the series on Kindle without telling me.

And then she tells me how awesome it all is.  Because the Kindle is such a secretive device (Sorry Dad! You brought it on yourself...), I can never tell what she's reading, and as a result I can never say "ohmygodisthatbookreallyexcellentortheworstthingever??"

Until it all comes out over dinner (or something), at which point I order the paperbacks from Amazon (Thank you, Amazon App), and then I get accused of being in possession of too many books.

Ha.

Devotees will remember that I recently read Elizabeth Hoyt's To Seduce a Sinner, which turned out to be the second book in the Legend of the Four Soldiers Series.  It's that second book that Wendy Pan read in paperback, and the first, third, and fourth that now live in the Amazon cloud.

So obviously I had to buy them, because I remain unconvinced of the Kindle (or any digital reading device) as a full-time reading option.  Personal opinion.  Haters to the left.  There's librarian in my DNA, dammit.  I have to collect the books.

ANY. WAY.

To Taste Temptation is officially Book One in The Legend of the Four Soldiers Series.  I know because it says so on the cover.  It's the story of Samuel Hartley, former military, recently civilized American colonist, PTSD sufferer.  Samuel and his regiment were viciously and brutally attacked and tortured on the frontier during the French and Indian War, and he has come to England on the pretext of expanding his Colonial import business, but with the grander idea of investigating the attack.

Part of his plan involves contacting the widowed sister of his murdered commanding officer, Lady Emmeline Gordon.  Emmeline supplements her income by steering young women through society and helping them "come out" as it were, and Hartley just happens to have a rambunctious baby sister whose Colonial upbringing, combined with his insane wealth, is a dangerous (and new!) combination in the ton.  And thusly Hartley and Emmeline are thrown together all the time.

Man oh man, do they have the hots for each other.

Let me start off by saying that this book flows so seamlessly into book two, that I'm very curious to find out what more can be said about our remaining two soldiers in books three and four.  The mystery of the attack that is set up in this book is not solved until book two, but it is solved in book two.  We also meet our book two hero and heroine, Emmeline's fiancé Lord Vale, and her best friend Melisande.  What's very, very interesting to me is that there is no setup for the couple in this book.  In fact, Melisande outright says in Temptation that Vale doesn't even know her name.  I think I like this.  If I had read To Taste Temptation first, it would have been surprising and intriguing to find these two paired in the sequel.

Emmeline and Hartley have a number of problems, both emotional and logistical, to overcome.  She has a huge abandonment complex because of all of the people around her who died and left her to pick up the pieces.  As a result she can be rather cold, and on more than one occasion is described as "prickly."  Hartley has his PTSD to contend with, in addition to his general incomprehension of the world in which Emmeline lives.

Class is a huge part of this book, but what I like about Emmeline is that she never considers Samuel to be beneath her, which in London society in that time was a very real consideration.  Her only concern is that they are different.  So different, that it would be impossible for them to meld their lives.  Samuel, on the other hand, acknowledges the differences, but like any true American, knows that they can be overcome.

I really like this book, and I really recommend it, preferably before you read To Seduce a Sinner.  The characters were vivid (especially Emmeline and Samuel), the suspense... fine (way predictable, but I didn't care), and the romance top-notch.  So go buy it.  Or ask Wendy Pan and myself about any number of our lending options.

In Which Monday Menu Mayhem is Way Ahead of the Game

I made this recipe so long ago I might not be able to tell you everything I remember about it.

No, I'm just kidding.

(But I might not be)

Last week was Dinner with Granny and Granddad Jones Week, and since Granny is the one who bought me the wondrous book, I try to cook from it with them when I can.  And thank goodness for the miraculous iPad.  Without it, there would not be a picture of our glorious creation:

So this is the Mortadella and Mozzarella Frittata.  I really wanted to make something springy and light-- it was not an awesome day weather-wise, but it's May, dammit!  Time to stop slaving over a dutch oven and make a move toward easy and quick.

This was very easy and quick, too.  Six eggs, chopped mortadella, chopped mozzarella, parsley, and a little bit of fresh parm, all thrown in the frying pan and then LEFT ALONE.  I have to emphasize this, because I have a tendency to stir, and had to re-read those directions about twelve times in order to ensure that I wasn't supposed to do anything but stare at the pan.

After about 5 minutes you transfer your (oven-proof!) skillet to the broiler, and let the top finish cooking.  Pop the frittata out of the pan and cut it like a cake.  Serve alongside this plain green salad, made better with Gwyneth's Mustard Vinaigrette (already a favorite).

And there you have it.  Simple.  Elegant.  Filling.  I'm excited about it because it was delicious, but it also lends itself to any combination of meats, cheeses, and veggies, and you better believe there will be experimenting in the future.

In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Squees.

Do you know what a "squee" is?

No?

In reality it's probably close to what you're imagining.  It's something like jumping up and down while making a noise akin to an "Eeeeee" and a squeal.  Yes, it's obnoxious.  But it's so full of enthusiasm that you can't help but find it infectious.

I have squeed quite a lot in the past twenty-four hours.  You all know my favorite site, right?  The SmartBitches site was an extremely powerful find for me in the winter of 2008/2009.  I was contemplating my MLS (Still am!  It's just far away!), and I was falling back in love with romance novels after a long and uncertain hiatus (Hello, nasty breakup.  Thanks for momentarily ruining my thoughts on romance novels).  SB (SmartBitch) Candy and SB Sarah were like a breath of fresh air.  They wrote like I think.  They were smart.  They loved romance novels.  And they were in no way ashamed of their love of a long-derided genre.

This week, SB Sarah was scheduled to speak at the Connecticut Library Association Conference, and I was scheduled to be there, except that the universe likes to laugh at me from time to time.  OK.  The universe likes to laugh at me a lot.


I woke up on Monday morning and read this article on Smart Bitches, and no joke, I nearly wept at my desk at work.  WHY WAS I NOT THERE MEETING AND FANGIRL-ING AT SMART BITCH SARAH???  I went home and did not drink heavily (Because I'm trying not to do that during the week... much), but I seriously thought about it.

Cut to: last night.  I'm visiting Granny and Granddad Jones for our (mostly) monthly get-together, and Granny starts talking to me about one of our mutual acquaintances (Relevant background: Granny and I worked at the same library for 10 years.  She still works there.  And so does this mutual friend), and how he left something for me.  Something AWESOME.  Like a copy of the Official SmartBitches Handbook, Beyond Heaving Bosoms: A Smart Bitches' Guide to Romance Novels.

And inside was THIS:

In case you're wondering, that says:

"To Elizabeth [no, my real name is not Kate]- Happy reading- may we all live happily ever after with the heaving bosoms of good reading.  SB Sarah   PS- where were you?! :)"

So yeah.  My obsession this week is all things SB Sarah and SmartBitches.  Because honestly, there's nothing quite like a badass woman's kind and encouraging words to help you move forward in your quest to be a badass woman.

I sent a thank you email to Sarah (who I have emailed a couple of times regarding various issues/fun things re: the Bitchery), and she could not have been more gracious and kind.  Are we paying close attention to her next local appearance so we can squee in person?  Yes, yes we are.

In Which Monday Menu Mayhem Makes Chorizo and Chickpea Stew

This is one I've been dying to make pretty much since I got the book.

First of all it uses bulgur wheat, which I have never worked with.  And the first step calls to toast bits of angel hair pasta, which is then cooked with the wheat.  I also have decided that two of my new favorite things are chorizo and chickpeas, so... yeah.  That part's pretty self-explanatory.  Behold:

Needless to say, this stew was incredibly filling.  And with the presence of apricot pieces and cinnamon, it's a little bit... weird.  Like, "I'm pretty unsure about these first couple of bites" weird.  Boy Scout was seriously skeptical.  But by the end of the meal he had announced that it was perfect, don't change a thing in the future, and I'm almost with him.

This Egyptian-inspired dish (taught to Nigella herself by an Egyptian friend) uses things in (what we would consider) unusual combination.  You know, like cinnamon and apricots and chorizo and canned tomatoes.  But it was delicious and wholesome.  And it was quick and easy to make.

I think in the future I would omit the apricots, or at least, I wouldn't freak out if I made the dish and forgot them.  They definitely added flavor, but the savory-spiciness was so good, it was almost jarring to have that extra bit of sweet, too.  Definitely worth investigating.

Once again we have a dish that was probably better the next day (Boy Scout?), but once again it does perfectly well on day one.

Hooray for Monday!

In Which I Review Instant Temptation by Jill Shalvis

And once again, the glory of travelling makes me read a book I otherwise would not have read.

I know I have talked about this before, but there really is nothing like travelling and spending time in airports to just get things done.  One Vanity Fair, and one book (In addition to a rudely interrupted session with Tropic Thunder, which I have been dying to re-watch for ages.  And now, I am still dying to re-watch it.  Sigh), to be exact.

Devotees will remember that I started reading Jill Shalvis books last year, and the Wilder brother series was hit and miss for me: the first one, Instant Attraction was very good, while the second, Instant Gratification, was annoying enough to put me off trying the third book.

As part of the ongoing "what the eff am I going to read next?" ADD, I finally picked up Instant Temptation about two weeks ago, and I was smart enough to bring it to Florida this week so that I would have time on the plane and in the airport to finish it up.

And finish it I did, friends.  FINISH IT, I DID.

Instant Temptation is the story of the final Wilder brother, TJ, who has had a serious thing for his former high school classmate Harley for... pretty much as far back as he can remember.  Harley is pretty prickly, though, and holds him at a distance because she remembers the night he took her virginity in high school.  And he doesn't.  (Not because he's an asshole, per se, but because he was drunk at the time)

This is essentially it.  TJ and Harley are two people at crossroads in their lives.  TJ is finally moving away from his past and acknowledging that it's time to grow up, and to a large extent Harley is doing the same, pursuing her degree and looking for jobs outside of Wishful.

The relationship between the two is complicated, but neither has any illusions (even if they do have delusions about the real status of their feelings and the relationship).  They spend the bulk of the book running around in the Sierra-Nevada mountains as she tracks coyotes she's studying for her degree and he runs a wilderness trek for a bunch of over-funded sorority girls.  We catch up with the rest of the Wilders, and TJ and Harley aren't too idiotic when it comes to admitting that they have finally found happiness together.

The pacing of the book was a little odd to me, with a really slow build-up to consummation and then a really fast sprint to resolution.  But whatever.  It was a fun, serviceable, and interesting read.  These days in the contemporary romance genre, you can't ask for much more than that.

One quick thing though:  TJ and Harley?  Really?  How the hell am I supposed to keep them straight, gender-wise?  This is a pet peeve of mine, and I was able to get over it eventually, but... it was confusing on occasion.  No lie.

In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Has a Lot of Diffent Things to Talk About

I'm writing from my new iPad 2.

And oh man, it's awesome.

OK, full disclosure, it's an iPad that belongs to the day job that I have to have (a girl's got to eat, and blogging for the masses doesn't pay in anything but a healthy sense of self-righteousness), but somehow I don't think anyone will mind if I reappropriate this lovely piece of machinery for a few minutes.

Oh yes. This lovely piece of machinery is most definitely my obsession de la semaine.

It's thin. It's white. And it has a badass pink cover. Part of this color combination is because I accessorize only in pink. And part of it is so that my male colleagues don't steal her. Yes, it's a "her," and she needs a name. Suggestions welcome in the comments.

The problem is, though, that I got the wifi only version (like you do... AT&T has enough of my soul, thank you very much) and then I went away on a business trip (hello from sunny and hot as hell Florida!). I have no idea how to judge this next part-- I can't decide if my outrage is justified. You'll let me know, right? Here goes...

The hotel does not have wireless available in the rooms. There's an Ethernet chord, or you can purchase internet through the television. All other Internet transactions must be carried out on the questionable wireless network in the lobby. (Why yes, I did pay $25 for 2 days' worth of access, and no, I still couldn't connect. Awesome.)

Let's ignore the fact that this hotel is currently hosting three business conventions.

And let's ignore the fact that when you (read: your company) are paying $150 a night for a hotel, you shouldn't have to kick in another $12 per day to connect to the Internet in general.

HOW DO THEY NOT HAVE WIRELESS INTERNET THROUGHOUT THE BUILDING?

Sure, iPads are new, and laptops can all be plugged in. But half of the point of a laptop is that it's portable. And for business purposes in this setting, how can you possibly be expected to go back to your room to check your email, or to look something up for a potential client?

Maybe it's a Gen Y thing. Maybe it's an overly techie thing. But I would seriously think twice before checking in to this hotel for business again-- a hotel, I might add, that is otherwise very lovely and has nothing particularly "wrong" with it.

But it's the year 2011. Connection is everything. And they have failed.

(For the record, the wireless connection I am using right now was brought in by the convention I'm attending... The hotel does not even provide wireless in its own convention halls)

In Which Monday Menu Lives, Sleeps, Eats, and Breathes Mayhem

My goodness friends.  What a weekend.

The relocation of Scout Camp was at once exhausting (ohholyhellmovingtakesforever) and exhilarating (more cabinet space! more counter space!)  But after one and a half days of takeout and pizza (the movers' food of choice), I finally took matters into my own hands on Saturday night, made Scout drive me to Whole Foods, and made not one, not two, but THREE Nigella dishes.

OK, one of them was a repeat, but I can't quite bring myself to care.

Firstly there was the Chicken with Lardons and Lentils, a one-pot meal that is originally intended for one according to the recipe instructions:

(Note the terribly appetizing cleaning supplies and the Le Creuset box in the background.  WE DON'T MESS AROUND, FRIENDS)

Having never cooked with lentils before, I was nervous about doubling everything (for two) and what it would do to the consistency of the thing.  In the end, all was well, though, as this hearty, healthy meal gave us the energy to... get up from the couch and get ready for bed.  I did double the lentils and the liquid, but rather than putting in four cups of water (as called for) I did three cups of water and one cup of wine.  Sure, it was a lot of wine (good drinking wine, too!), but I felt like adding flavor was better than not.

The other best part of this meal was that in the end there was plenty of lentil stew left over, and when we added in the shreds of extra chicken from our individual breasts (har har... breasts) (sorry, I'm still loopy) there was plenty enough for lunch the next day.

Oh yeah, and it did need the added salt and pepper.

Easter dinner (such as it was... I had to keep reminding myself that Sunday was Easter) (sorry, we don't need to get into my religious convictions right now) was the Pork and Apple Hotpot redux, which was better than the first time, even though I can't tell you why (it might have been the improvisation of more flour and therefore thicker sauce...?).  Dessert was new, though.  Behold, Lemon Polenta Cake:

I liked this cake because it's gluten-free and lemony fresh.  It's made with almond flour and polenta, with the addition of a little lemon zest (in the cake) and a good soaking with lemon syrup after the baking.  Don't get me wrong, it's tart.  And it's sweet.  Like I like my... cakes.  And my men.

I think Scout was unsure of this one, but I wouldn't hesitate to make it again for a nice spring occasion, or really as a go-too dessert for gluten-free friends.

So there.  One week, two new recipes.  BLAMMO.

In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday Continues to be Too Distracted to Think Properly.

Yep.  I know it's getting old.  But next week I'll feel more comfortable (maybe?) and I'll be able to talk about the book I'm reading now (maybe?) and how much I'm in love with Parks and Recreation (I really should finish the second season before I make any grand pronouncements).

In the meantime, just in case you thought I forgot all about Cougar Town (well, I haven't talked about it in like, a day), I give you another Lady Liberty YouTube find, this one illuminating Laurie's coffee buying habits.  Damn, Busy Phillips is a rock star at memorization.



Have a lovely holiday (if you're celebrating), and a lovely long weekend (if you're celebrating or not).  Scout Camp is changing locations this weekend, so Monday Menu Mayhem will probably involve locating pots and pans.  Stay tuned for the excitement.

In Which Monday Menu Mayhem is Late, But Worth It

In a weekend filled with chaos and illness (parties! recovering from parties! attic cleaning! and all with no internets in the home!) I managed to make one of the biggest Nigella meals yet.

How does this happen?  Well, for starters, one has to be thinking clearly enough in advance to remember to bring The Book down from Scout Camp (check).  And then, one has to have a dinner party in order to excuse the cooking of excessive amounts of food (donezo).  Finally, Wendy Pan has to give you permission to cook the meal at the aforementioned dinner party (yeah, that's really hard).

Anyway, I decided to make the Standing Rib Roast with Mushroom Sauce and Cheddar Mash.

We took pictures, but unfortunately none of them managed to come out looking like food.

First, the rib roast.  Really huge, but really simple, just rub it down with equal parts salt, mustard powder, and garlic oil (Full disclosure: the recipe called for 1 tsp garlic oil and 1 tsp truffle oil... yeah.  Didn't have any of that.  Doubling up on garlic is never a bad idea, though).  Chuck the beast in a 425 degree oven until it's... raring to go.  (I'm sorry... but not really.)

The rib roast was disappointing to me.  I had never cooked one before, and neither had Wendy Pan, so we didn't really know what to expect.  I had bought a nice chunk of meat from a nice local butcher, but I have to say that I was not impressed with the cut.  It was rare (as we prefer it) but it was still dry and borderline tough.  The stuff around the ribs was amazing, but there was also a fair amount of fat mixed in there, too.  That said, the rub was divine.  Like, super duper divine.  Wendy Pan's already planning to use it on her new cooking obsession, pork butts.  It would also be rockin' on beef tenderloin, and really, any type of pork, and I will be using it on all of the above in the future.

The mushroom sauce, thank goodness, went a long way toward helping the dryness.  But then, it involved a stick of butter and a cup of marsala.  Can't really go wrong with that.  It really did have the perfect amount of sweetness and richness to compliment the beef.  The recipe called to add the roast's pan drippings, and I did... but I don't think I will next time.  It added an unnecessary amount of fat to the mushrooms, and not that much more flavorful goodness.

Finally, the cheddar mash.  Did you know that I make bangin' mashed potatoes?  No?  Well I do.  So I have serious expectations for mashed potatoes that are someone else's recipe.  These just called for potatoes, cheddar, and milk.  And even though I added more cheddar than these called for, I still found that they were pretty boring.  Like, if the cheddar's not going to add much more to the flavor of the straight mash, then why am I going to bother to add it?

Here's the thing about this meal: much of it was a learning experience (and fortunately the dinner guests fall in the "friends who are family" category and could be experimented on without paranoia).  I would totally serve the same(-ish) meal again, but now I know how to do it better.  Pick a better cut of meat.  Make the mushrooms straight out of the book (without drippings).  And make your own mashed potatoes, dammit.  (I'll tell you about them sometime.  They're epic)

Next epic Nigella meal?  Ham Hocs in Cider.  I'm not even joking.  Now I just have to find the time...

In Which Friday is Fun

OK, because I so totally flaked yesterday, I bring you this piece of happiness, which came via SmartBitches.  Enjoy and have a great weekend.

In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday is Too ADD to Decide.

I don't even want to talk about it.

Friends, blog-ees, countrymen, I have nothing new to report this week by way of awesome new discoveries in awesomeness.

Really the biggest things I have been obsessed with are The Good Wife (I mean... seriously. WHY ARE YOU ALL NOT WATCHING IT ALL THE TIME??  Or, at the very least, WHY ARE YOU ALL NOT WATCHING IT WHEN YOU ARE NOT WATCHING COUGAR TOWN??) and old school (not to be confused with Old Skool) Lisa Kleypas historicals.

Both are the entertainment equivalent of comfort food.

Except that The Good Wife isn't so much comforting as it is ohholyhellamazing.  Have I mentioned how much I love Julianna Marguiles?  Not in the past week?  WELL.  She is beautiful.  And damn can that woman act.  I mean, for reals.  Without going all spoiler-alerty, let me just say that the last 20 or so seconds of this week's episode were Off the Charts Acting 101.  Her character, Alicia, finds out a BIG secret, and suddenly, as she's walking down a deserted hotel hallway, we see the woman who's held it together for two seasons just... crumble.  Before our very eyes.  It was heartbreaking for unobvious reasons (again with the spoiler-alertiness), and I cannot believe we now have to wait until May for the metaphorical shit to hit the metaphorical fan.

As for the Kleypases, there is something very very soothing about the interactions of her heroes and heroines.  I mean, even when they're behaving like idiots (Hi Derek Craven.  You know how much I love you... Just shut up and marry her, already), there is no doubt about how much they love each other and how much they want to be together.  Sure there are obstacles, but they almost don't matter when faced with the blinding chemistry of an atypical regency Miss and her dashingly unconventional Knight in Shining Armor.

And that's all she wrote.  No seriously.