Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

One of our neighbors asked my daughter to water her garden while she and her husband went camping for the weekend, and she told her she was welcome to pick their beans while they were gone.  And WOW.  I have never seen such a bumper crop of green beans–she probably came home with 5 pounds of them in 3 days.  I went looking for interesting ways to use them, because why not?, and decided on this recipe for Seasoned Chicken, Potatoes, and Green Beans.  (Note:  I also have red potatoes that need using.)

I was a bit nervous about the cook time, based on some of the comments, but I went with about what it said because I was starting with partially frozen chicken; both the chicken and the potatoes came out quite nicely.  (They weren’t exactly the firmest potatoes to start with.)  The green beans were more done than we usually have, but they were seasoned and tasty and cooking them all together made for a one-pot meal, so I’m not complaining.  I can’t guarantee that completely thawed chicken and perfectly firm potatoes would cook up quite as evenly, but I’d probably just cut the potatoes a bit smaller and hope for the best.  Let me know how it comes out for you!

I finished listening to Helen Simonson’s The Summer Before the War today, and I’m a bit conflicted about it.  Her first novel, Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand, was full of gradual awakenings and even more gradual comeuppances; I remember asking Britt if the ending was satisfying, because if certain characters weren’t going to get what they deserved, I was going to be too irritated to put in the time to finish it.  She assured me I was safe to keep reading, and the ending was every bit as satisfying as she promised it would be.  The ending of The Summer Before the War, sadly, was not quite as satisfying–AND, in my opinion, the title was misleading.  WWI more or less begins about 115 pages into a 473 page novel, which means that a full three quarters of the book takes place during the war.  That makes it, overall, a war novel, which of course means that people die at the end, including some of the people to whom you have grown attached.  There are some comeuppances to be had, but just as much tragedy. (Come to think of it, both the title and the cover art belie the actual story.)

Of course, Simonson can undoubtedly write, and write well.  She has the Austenian gift of conveying what is real during the course of a polite conversation that studiously avoids reality at all costs; one laughs, cringes, grinds one’s teeth, and generally experiences an impressively wide range of emotions during all of those conversations.  There’s a bit of Agatha Christie’s England here as well–I wasn’t surprised to learn that her autobiography was part of Simonson’s period research.  Indeed, if I had expected a war novel, with all of the tragedy that implies, I would likely have come away–in general–very impressed.  (I say in general because a few bits of the falling action felt suddenly rushed, as if the fast forward button had been inadvertently pushed during a couple of scenes.  The pacing of the rest of the novel made the contrast noticeable.)  As it was, I felt a bit betrayed by what the novel became.  It’s absolutely worth reading when you know what you’re getting into, mind you–just don’t expect the same kind of reading experience as Major Pettigrew.

(Please forgive the proliferation of double dashes and such–I’m a bit tired to be writing this sort of review.  As for the tendency towards a bit of British-ness in the writing, this was a 15 hour long audiobook.  These things happen.)

I may not have finished any books, but I’ve got several recipes I ought to be reviewing.  Unfortunately, I’ve been awakened by a child for the last four nights, and my hubby and I are just now trying to rein in our bad bedtime habits, so I quite literally lack the mental energy.  I therefore offer you a mishmash of food recommendations that involve no cooking (and therefore no critical thinking) whatsoever.

1.  Just say yes to the Rocky Road Trip Oreos.  Dang, those things are good.
2.  I loved the pina colada thins, my sister liked the Pistachio.
3.  And to complete the Oreo trifecta, the Good Humor man Strawberry Shortcake Bar ones were disturbingly tasty.  It was a good season for Oreos.
4.  OH MY GOSH, the Tropical Mango Button Cakes that Costco carried this summer.  Made by Sugar Bowl Bakery, these individually packaged bits of rich, fruity, coconutty goodness have not done my waistline any favors.
5.  Who else quite enjoys the Reeses stuffed with pieces?  They work for me.
6.  For my Utah friends, the local corn selling at $3/dozen at Ream’s made quite a lovely dinner tonight.  Technically, one does cook corn, but really, you boil it in a pot of water.  (Grilling it was so not happening today.)
7.  There were “watermelon radishes” in my Zupa’s salad today.  Considering my profound dislike of garden-variety radishes, I was pleasantly surprised.
8.  Also, the brownie I got there–with caramel and pecans–was rather amazing.  I wasn’t expecting it to be anything like THAT good.

Alrighty, folks.  There’s your list for today.  Perhaps I can have a night or two of uninterrupted sleep and come up with the mental energy for an actual recipe review eventually…then again, perhaps not.  Only time will tell.

Do your children beg to go to the dentist?  Mine do.  I never disliked the dentist as a child, but I don’t remember actively looking forward to it; my children, on the other hand, are constantly asking me when they can go again and if I’ve made their appointments.  (One of them declared that a dentist appointment would be a perfect birthday activity.)  Yesterday was finally the day of their scheduled summer cleanings, which means that I can put off the clamor for the next six months.  All three (my 3-year-old played at my fabulous aunt’s house) passed with flying colors, while I, on the other hand, appear to have the second cavity of my adult life.  (I had 3 after getting my braces off, but I was 13.)  Add that to my yearly OB checkup today, which was followed by three sets of essentially the same form to fill out at school registration, and it hasn’t exactly been a week of cracking good fun thus far.  (Can you tell I’m listening to a very British audiobook at the moment?)  On the other hand, I’ve at least done some of the things.  Maybe now I’ll manage more time to actually finish a book?

I’m not great at making homemade family night treats every week–or having weekly family nights, for that matter.  But I’m trying harder to manage the latter, and since it was a quiet afternoon, I decided to enlist my 6-year-old in making the former.  He was restless and feeling left out of his sisters’ activities and needed some one-on-one; he was also one of the most important recipients of tonight’s lesson (making proper apologies instead of yelling ‘sorry’ in an aggravated voice across the room, or the lawn), and so I figured helping with the treats would soften the message.  Out of several no-bake options–because IT’S HOT–these Puppie Chow Krispie Treats won out; they’re essentially Muddy Buddy flavored Rice Krispie treats, and who doesn’t like the sound of that?  Ultimately, I’ve decided I’d rather have the real thing–you don’t get the perfect amount of powdered sugar in each bite of these, making some bites not quite sweet enough for me–but if you’re passionate about Muddy Buddies and don’t have Chex, these are a reasonable substitute.  The kiddos seemed to like them–you’ll have to let me know what you think!

Can you tell I’ve been listening to “South Pacific” in the car lately?  Anyway…

I don’t always do two reviews in a row on a 31st/1st calendar combination, but since I missed on the 29th AND I just finished The Boys in the Boat:  Nine Americans and Their Epic Quest for Gold at the 1936 Berlin Olympics, you get another review today.  Assuming, of course, that you want a review other than I LOVED THIS BOOK, which I did.  How could you not love it?  (Unless, of course, you’re my 15-year-old niece who read it for school and most emphatically did not.  To be fair, I didn’t enjoy nonfiction at that age, either.)  It’s a thrilling, come-from-behind sports/Olympic story, a poor-and-working-class-kids-win-out-during-the-Great-Depression story, a kid-from-a-hard-childhood-finds-belonging story, and an Americans-showing-up-Hitler story all in one.  The nice guys finish first–and in front of the Nazis, to boot.  The writing is compelling, the story is amazing, and I learned more about rowing crew than I possibly knew there was to know.  Go read this, folks–or listen to it. Either way, you won’t be disappointed.

A few hours ago I was about to start a recipe review when I got distracted by something–I don’t remember exactly what–and didn’t get to it.  Since I finished reading Jim Murphy’s Truce to my older girls tonight, however, you get a book review instead.  Enjoy!

If you’re not familiar with the ‘Christmas truce’ of WWI, that part of the book alone should fascinate you; I’ve heard enough about it over the years, however, that what I found most interesting was Murphy’s explanation of the European countries’ attitudes before WWI.  I learned about the secret alliances and the assassination of Franz Ferdinand in Serbia when I was a sophomore in high school–shout out to Mr. Bowes!–but Murphy’s descriptions of the leaders of the countries involved, together with the quotes from some of the relevant documents, added significantly to my understanding of how such a pointless, tragic war began.  Full of photos of the war itself as well as the truce, this is not a book that sugarcoats the aftermath of such a vast conflict; the black-and-white, often fuzzy quality of the photos, however, allows young readers some distance.  Ultimately, Murphy successfully balances information about the truce itself with enough context to make it accessible for its intended audience, while his epilogue suggests a modern parallel that I’m going to be pondering for a while.  If you’re looking for non-fiction for middle graders, he’s an author worth noting, especially given his two Newbery Honor books.  Just pick up one of his books and start reading!

Introducing a Dick-and-Jane-(and-Spot)-style recipe review, because I am just plain too tired for anything else…

See these Sweet Ham and Swiss Sliders?  They are good.  We liked them.  I used King’s Hawaiian rolls.  They were good.  The recipe calls for a lot of butter.  I doubled the recipe.  I one-and-a-halved the butter.  Using less butter was okay.

I made them a second time.  I caramelized onions.  I put them on some of the sliders.  They were very good.

I like them.  My hubby likes them.  My children like them.  They are good.

You should make the sliders.  You will like them.  They are good.

Hope you enjoyed your blast from the past, folks.  Sleep well all!

Yesterday I finished listening to Margot Lee Shetterly’s Hidden Figures:  The American Dream and the Untold Story of the Black Women Mathematicians Who Helped Win the Space Race (the whole book, not just the title).  I wanted to read it before I saw the movie–I like to know what’s true and what’s not from the get-go–and I was pleasantly surprised to see that, unlike so much of the nonfiction that interests me, Hidden Figures was available to borrow immediately.

Now I know why.

Don’t get me wrong–I found it thoroughly interesting, and I’m definitely glad I read (listened to!) it.  It’s just that in the course of describing what the women in the title did, how their careers progressed, and what kind of achievements they were involved in, Shetterly couldn’t really avoid language that was more technical than I prefer when I’m exercising and can’t see the text of the book.  (Or, you know, more technical than I generally use, period.)  All of the different kinds of sonics–supersonic, and hypersonic, and ALL THE SONICS–plus the topics of reports authored or coauthored by some of the women, and the focus of the different groups they were (eventually) assigned to, were hard to conceptualize for me; I never took physics and calculus was over 20 years ago at this point.  I’m not sure I’d call it inaccessible, but I wouldn’t call it solidly accessible, either.  (I guess you can do with that what you will.)

Besides the technicality of the content, however, it also occurs to me that I had slightly skewed expectations of the book’s focus.  I think I was expecting more the drama of “Apollo 13” (the movie, although I did read the book once upon a time), but to get a good sense of Hidden Figures, you have to pay attention to both parts of the subtitle.  Overall, I’d recommend it–I learned all kinds of things I didn’t know, and it did keep me interested–but I don’t think audio is the best way to experience it.  (You’re also going to want to read it at a time and in a place where you can focus without much by way of distraction.)  Let me know what you think when you read it!

Today, for the first time, my newly 6-year-old son was the child who asked me if “we could PLEASE get the next Mighty Jack book?”  You know, in that aggravated tone that says the child is SURE he’s been waiting for at least 6 months?

I loved it.

I decided to give him Mighty Jack because Ben Hatke’s graphic novels are light on text; I figured he’d be able to read it, even if it took him a bit, and the graphic novel style was likely to keep him interested.  I was right.  He and his older sisters loved it, and it’s in self-preservation that I’m reviewing Mighty Jack and the Goblin King tonight, because if they find out that a) we have it and b) I’ve finished it but c) it’s still not available to them, I’m not sure I’m going to like the consequences.  (And seriously, the first book ends on quite the cliffhanger; I really can’t blame them.)  In Goblin King Jack and Lilly follow Maddy’s abductor right out of their world, only to find themselves separated and forced to rely on strange allies to rescue her.  There are scenes reminiscent of one of the “Pirates of the Caribbean” movies here, as well as one of the Harry Potter books, but ultimately it’s a creative and compelling conclusion to Hatke’s reimagining of “Jack and the Beanstalk”.  I hope your kiddos enjoy it as much as mine will!