In Which The Lady Liberty Drops Out of Law School to Become a Joanna Bourne Expert.

Well, maybe not.  But probably.

The Lady Liberty graces us with her review of My Lord and Spymaster:

I was anxiously anticipating the arrival of my second and third Joanna Bournes (my second and third romance purchases) and as though Amazon was congratulating me for my new hobby, they threw in ten Janet Evanoviches as well. I can only imagine there is some poor human in America who is simply lost without Two for the Dough... and nine of the other books from the Stephanie Plum series. Sorry!         

On to the less-than-aptly named My Lord and Spymaster. Not that it’s too far wrong, but I believe Bourne failed a little with the whole idea that Jess Whitby believes that Captain Sebastian Kennett (who incidentally has her naked in his bed by page 25, though not in the way you think) is actually Cinq, a French spy who has supplied English secrets to Napoleon. Jessamyn Whitby is the lovely heiress and mastermind behind one of England’s most successful shipping companies. While expensive governesses have tried to turn her into a lady, she occasionally slips into her criminal cockney roots which is perfectly charming and believable. The crux of that matter is that her father has been arrested because the British Service believes he is Cinq, and against his orders, she sets about clearing his name by finding the real Cinq. Which is how she ends up in a dark alleyway with her hands in Bastian’s pockets.        

 We spend about an equal amount of time in Kennett’s point of view as we do in Jess Whitby’s which is why I’m not spoiling anything when I say it’s very hard for us to believe that the Captain is Cinq the way Jess does. And there is conflict enough between them even without it (he’s the owner of a rival shipping company, among other things...), but I would have liked it to be a little more ambiguous, or to drop the whole ruse altogether.        While this one was as juicy and delectable a read, it was weaker than her first. Adrian Hawkhurst and William Doyle have returned and are as wonderful as ever, and she reveals of a few good nuggets about the how the characters all fit in together, but I was left wanting just a little bit more. I even found the great reveal in the end a wee bit predictable. And Chapter 21 made me mad. Note that and tell me if you can guess why.        

 In all, I thoroughly enjoyed it, her facility with sexual tension is ever apparent and her characters lovely as ever and villains as detestable, I just don’t find this novel as tightly crafted as her first and as I’m finding her third to be. It’s almost as though there was some page-filling stalling happening that just wasn’t quite entertaining enough to not feel like stalling. That said, I’d stall with Sebastian Kennett any day, thank you please. Joanna Bourne, I love you, keep writing, please.

In Which Monday Menu Mayhem Cheats! CHEATS, I Tell You!

First of all, I write this post to the most epic Buffy ep "Once More, With Feeling," possibly one of the best episodes of television ever.  It's at least in the top 20.  "Every single day/ The same arrangement/ I go out and fight the fight..."

Second of all, I have to confess that I was not at Scout Camp this weekend, and therefore was nowhere near the Nigella cookbook that is requisite for this column.

HOWEVER.  Due to the birthday of one Wendy Pan (Happy Birthday, Momma!), I did some serious cooking tonight, but from a different cookbook.  So I'm cheating, but not really.

Ladies and gentleman, I give you Coq au Vin via the Barefoot Contessa:

(insert your own coq joke here... don't be afraid, we've all been doing it for about two weeks now...)

I'm supposed to offer the following analogy at this point in time: Nigella : Kate Jones :: Barefoot Contessa : Boy Scout.  I'm really sorry if that's wrong.  I was a French major, and I haven't thought about math on purpose in at least seven years.  The point is that Boy Scout seems to be working through the Contessa tome (Back to Basics) the way I'm working through Nigella, and boy does he rock my world.

But let's not get in to that now.  I just ate, after all.

However, this is the one recipe that I have made from the book, and I'm a fan in a qualified sense.  There's absolutely nothing wrong with starting with bacon (my favorite starter ingredient!) and then adding a bottle of wine to braise a whole chicken you've carved up yourself (Aside from being in constant danger of dismembering myself, I am a hugely huge fan of this step.  Sorry vegetarian readers) (Oh!  And have I mentioned you get to try and light the kitchen on fire as a step in the recipe?  Awesomesauce, crispy-fried on a stick).

It doesn't look like it, but this is a labor intensive recipe, and I don't necessarily recommend it for formal dinners.  However for my two purposes (casual friend dinner and casual family celebration), it worked like a charm.  And both times the chicken came out fork-tender and full of flavor.

As time goes on, I would love to play with this recipe and make it more "mine."  It's delicious, but I do feel that it could use some "making it my own."

Here's a vid to finish off the mayhem... For the record, I did cook barefoot this evening.  (That noise?  My esthetician weeping...)

In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday is Filled with Procrastination Tools.

It's been one of those days/weeks/months.  Call it the winter doldrums, call it the need for hibernation, call it not wanting to talk to anyone anymore because you're so tired of hearing complaints about the weather.  Call it awesome supernatural mind melt due to intensive amounts of Buffy and Blades of the Rose.

Whatever it is, my concentration is down, my mood is pensive, and my need for staring in to the distance is up up up.

THUS!  I present to you all of the things I have used to distract myself in the past few days.

First of all, have you seen www.theoatmeal.com?  No?  You need to go there.  Now.  If you don't have time for browsing, please at least check out this: The State of the Web, What It's Like to Own an Apple Product (truer words...) and How Many Baboons Could You Take in a Fight....  Wendy Pan took the quiz.  She got 37.

Also, have you seen this video?  It's the single greatest thing I have yet seen this year.  I think I watched it six times today, because it kept making me smile. 

There's also this video, which also made me smile, but more in the stand-up-and-cheer kinda way.  If this man represents the future leaders of our country, then sign me up:


If that's not enough coolness for you, then I'm... not cool enough.  But I thought we already knew that...?

GO PACKERS!!

In Which I Review Scoundrel by Zoe Archer, and Become Determined to Buy Every One of Her Books. Ever.

It took me way, way longer to read this book than it really should have (when I finally sat down and put my mind to it, it took only about 24 hours.  With work.), but it's all Buffy's fault.  For reals, that chick is as addictive as she is ass-kicking, and most of my free hours have been taken up with sanity-restoring marathon time.  (You think this is bad?  Wait until Felicity and Alias.  You ain't seen nothin' yet)  But between seasons 4 and 5 I made a conscious effort not to start anything new until I read this book.

And boy was I not disappointed.

We first met Bennett Day in Warrior, that charming lothario who loves all women, all the time.  He's not a rake who just loves sex; Bennett loves women, and openly admits to being in love with just about every woman he's slept with to one degree or another.  This is not something I would love in my hero (I like my heroes like I like my men: one-woman dudes), but Bennett is so sincere and so not smarmy that it's impossible not to get him.  He's the rake who hasn't found the girl.  Well, that's what this book is for.

London Harcourt (for purists who won't believe that a nineteenth century woman could be named London, her real name is Victoria Regina Gloriana London Edgeworth Harcourt... yeah, you'd want to be called London, too) is the daughter of one of the head Heirs (and is the widow of another...), but has no idea what they're all about.  The Heirs appear to be obnoxiously, rage-inducingly chauvinistic, spouting nonsense about how women think with their wombs (?!), cannot make rational decisions, etc., etc., etc.

In other words, I wanted to kill all of them all of the time during the course of this book.

Bennett and London encounter each other accidentally in a marketplace in Greece and are instantly smitten (natch).  Once he finds out who she is, kidnaps her, and tells her who he is (the man who widowed her), the fun really starts.  As in the last book, a mystical magical scavenger hunt commences, and the two (along with a sexy Greek witch and a rather awesome sea captain) hunt down yet another Source of magic.

While their relationship was, I thought, a little out of sync with the times, I really really really loved Bennett and London together.  From the beginning he is entranced by the streak of adventure he sees in her, and the more she grows into her own being, the more he loves her.  As for London, while she has been sheltered by the men in her life for her entire life, she has managed to cultivate herself and her education on the sly.  When confronted about the truth of her father's evil actions, she questions the veracity of the allegations (as she should... it's her dad after all) and then allows that most mysterious of beings, Common Sense, to shine through.

Together they form an adult, mature relationship.  Bennett is up-front from the beginning about the type of relationship he usually has and his expectations for this one (none), while London, sexually experienced widow whose dead husband was neither a eunuch nor a masochist, prepares herself for the fact that perhaps the love of her life might be encountered in a fleeting, momentary relationship.

Of course he changes his mind, she changes hers, and after some minor bloodshed, they find their HEA.

Banter abounds, action abounds, and there's sexual tension up the wazoo.  In other words, I'm going to dive right in to the next book, Rebel... as soon as season 5 is finished.

In Which Monday Menu Mayhem Eats Dessert First

Another Monday, another bout of snow on the way for the Northeast!  Woo-hoo!

Unfortunately I left all of the warm and lovely food I cooked this weekend at Scout Camp, so I'll have to eat healthily, if not comfortingly, during the next batch of inches.

This weekend was shockingly Nigella-lite-- despite a dinner party and two days full of culinary delights, there was only one thing from our guiding-light cookbook that was prepared, and that was Grasshopper Pie.

Despite what you might think from the content of this blog thus far, I am a huge dessert fan.  It started long ago when my grandfather corrected my mother's healthy teachings of yogurt and apple sauce, replacing the "good for me" foods with the "good" foods, namely ice cream and cookies.  Thanks, Pappy.

In any case, when it comes to dinner party planning, dessert is often a top priority for me, and I was intrigued by the Grasshopper Pie (having never made one myself) when I saw it in the book.  So easy!  So boozey!  With a crust of smashed Oreos and a filling of melted marshmallows and whipped cream, this was, in many ways, a perfect dessert.  It was light and refreshing (thank you, crème de mènthe), and because it's served cold was an excellent juxtaposition to the rest of the warmth-inducing meal.

I foregoed (forewent?  foregot?  foregrew?) the food coloring, as Nigella noted that it is not necessary, and I am in a place in life where I don't feel it adds anything other than chemicals.  This is (a fraction of) the finished product:

It also makes an excellent breakfast.  And dessert at lunch time.  And afternoon snack...

In Which Thoroughly Obsessed Thursday is a Day Late on Purpose. (Honestly)

Well, it's been quite a week in the Northeast in terms of weather disruptions and feet of snow.  You won't find me among the naysayers suffering from Snow Fatigue, but you will find me firmly in the "as long as it's snowing, can I just stay home and watch Buffy and/or read one of the Zoe Archer books I picked up last weekend?" camp.

But instead of doing either of those things yesterday following the Great and Unexpected Blizzard of January 27, 2011, I came up to Scout Camp and we, er, decamped to Boston to watch the Sundance USA film My Idiot Brother at the Coolidge Corner Theatre.

I could have been heard complaining loudly this week (mostly to Boy Scout) that I wish that I had been at Sundance this year rather than last year (even the logos are prettier!) but that is neither here nor there.  As the Oscar nominations came out this week, it was also fun to discover that I knew a lot of the movies (especially the docs) because they came straight out of Sundance 2010.

ANYWAY.  My Idiot Brother is the tale of, well... an idiot brother.  Played by Paul Rudd.  "How is he that much of an idiot?" you ask.  Well, in the opening scene he sells weed to a uniformed cop.  What's so most excellent about this movie, though, is that there's more depth to it than "Ohmygod, how can anyone be that stupid?"

Ned is essentially a hippie who believes that in putting your trust in others, they will repay your trust with goodness.  The officer made a good case for needing weed, and so Ned was happy to oblige him.

When Ned gets out of prison he gets passed around between his mother and three sisters (played with varying degrees of neurosis by Emily Mortimer, Elizabeth Banks, and Zooey Deschanel).  In his own way, and through use of his crunchy naivete, Ned then proceeds to deconstruct their lives (for better?) by exposing the cracks in their well veneered worlds.

There are some truly hilarious moments in this film (to detail them would be too spoiler-y), but it's also just the story of a family dealing with changing dynamics and real honesty, which I think we all know can be challenging.

When it makes wide release (and it did get sold at Sundance... yay!) I highly recommend seeing My Idiot Brother.  The ensemble is stellar, as is the writing.  Go go go go go.

Have a lovely weekend, and be careful.  If you're not lucky you're going to end up with a review of Buffy Season 3.

In Which Monday Menu Mayhem Makes Chicken Soup

First of all, Happy 100th Post everyone!  It's been a long(-ish) journey, but we've made it to triple digits.  Wa-hoo.

I know you're going to be surprised, but I am celebrating with a Buffy ep, and soon will have a glass of wine.  Wild, wild parties over here.  (Come on! Xander is fighting the undead while the others are trying to fend off an apocalypse.  How am I not supposed to watch that?!)

Anyway, on to more important business.  This week's Nigella recipe, Thai Chicken Soup, was rather disappointing.  However, it could very well be that it's my own damn fault.  The recipe called for tamarind paste and turmeric.  I may (or may not) have substituted those two ingredients for Yellow Curry Paste, which contains those ingredients and (through no conflict of interest at all) I am able to get for free.

The final result was a tasty soup (which, like all soups, definitely benefited from sitting overnight) which was a little sour (hello, lime juice and fish sauce!) and not exactly like I expected it to taste, which might be half of the problem.  Someone who's been eating Ramen like it's going out of style tends to have different expectations of what chicken soup should taste like.

Hark!  A photo:

Will make this dish again, but will also definitely feel free to modify to my heart's content.  What's nice about it is that it's easy... pre-cooked chicken, stock, frozen veggies... As Boy Scout said, "I give it a solid C."  Which, now that I think about it, isn't so positive after all...