monday memories - the four and twenty blackbirds pie book

Emma of Miss Print and Nicole at The Book Bandit have started a new weekly feature called Monday Memories.  To participate, all you have to do is take a photo of one of your books (or a library book that means a lot to you) and talk a bit about why it made an impression.  Today I'm going to talk about The Four and Twenty Blackbirds Pie Book: Uncommon Recipes from the Celebrated Brooklyn Pie Shop by Emily Elsen and Melissa Elsen.

On Saturday I went to the Baltimore Book Festival for the first time.  It was a gorgeous, sunny day on the Inner Harbor, with dozens of tents set up all around the waterfront to host author talks, panel discussions, signings and book sales.  I took the train up with Sajda and Ashley from my DC Forever Young Adult book club, and we went to several panels together.  I was most excited for the 4pm feature at the 'Food for Thought' stage.

The Elsen sisters founded a pie shop in Brooklyn (I've never been there, but I follow on Instagram), and a cookbook soon followed.  I first heard about their cookbook through... blogging!  In the past few years I've become the pie master (not an official title) at Thanksgiving, and I tend to perk up whenever I see a pie recipe or crust variation.  Every year I live in genuine fear that my crust will turn out wrong, so anything that could help the cause is always of interest.

So, I was excited to see the Elsens in person.  AND IT WAS AWESOME!  They held a pie crust clinic right in front of us, took questions from the audience, and had a lovely volunteer named Laura (she's on the left side in that photo above) join them on the stage.  I drank in the whole experience.  During the presentation they served samples of their Bourbon Pear Crumble, and it was kind of unbelievably delicious.

Afterwards I had to have my newly-purchased copy of their cookbook signed (obviously!).  Emily and Melissa are/were super sweet, and talked a bit with me about pie (again, obviously).  I'm really looking forward to reading this cookbook cover-to-cover and trying out the recipes for myself.  The day was a huge success, and this book signing and cooking demo were a huge part of it.

If you'd like to see more Monday Memories posts, head over to this week's link list.

h.o.r.s.e.: a game of basketball and imagination

Emma of Miss Print and Nicole at The Book Bandit have started a new weekly feature called Monday Memories.  To participate, all you have to do is take a photo of one of your books (or a library book that means a lot to you) and talk a bit about why it made an impression.  Today I'm going to talk about Christopher Myers’ picture book H.O.R.S.E.: A Game of Basketball and Imagination.

One day at the basketball court, two kids, a familiar challenge--H.O.R.S.E.? But this isn’t your grandmother’s game of hoops.

Not when a layup
     from the other side of the court
             standing on one foot
                       with your eyes closed
                                  is just the warm-up.

Around the neighborhood, around the world, off Saturn’s rings, the pair goes back and forth.

The game is as much about skill as it is about imagination.

A slam dunk from multi-award-winning author/illustrator Christopher Myers, H.O.R.S.E. is a celebration of the sport of basketball, the art of trash-talking, and the idea that what’s possible is bounded only by what you can dream.

I met author/illustrator/very-tall-person Christopher Myers this last spring in New York at a breakfast event put on by Egmont USA.  Myers is a talented artist AND an entertaining conversationalist, and he kept our entire table amused with basketball stories.  It was special to hear straight from the author about his inspiration for his Coretta Scott King Honor book.  Afterward he was kind enough to personalize a copy of H.O.R.S.E. for me.  It was an early meeting, so I can’t say I was my most sparkling self, but I remember the morning fondly, and the book is of course a beautiful reminder.

But what about the story?  It’s a conversation between two kids in the city, united by their love of basketball and wide imaginations.  They know the game H.O.R.S.E. by different names, and they may have different ideas of the parameters – but once it starts, their dreams expand.  It’s half trash talk, half tall tale, and a joy to read.  It’s a testament to the power of sport (or any shared interest) to unite people and fire imagination.

The artwork, though!  It’s another step up.  Mixed media (some paint, some altered photographs) blend to create the setting: first the basketball court, then the cityscape, and then the planet and space.  The two unnamed main characters are African-American kids with a passion for the game, and Myers has distilled their gangly adolescence in these pages, as well as the boastful reach of their dreams. 

In all, H.O.R.S.E. is a beautiful book and an homage to a game, a friendship, and telling stories.

Recommended for: all-ages fans of art, picture books, and basketball.

I read and reviewed this book as part of the #diversiverse challenge.

If you'd like to see more Monday Memories posts, head over to this week's link list.

Fine print: I received a finished copy of this book from the publisher for review consideration.

hallelujah! the welcome table

I read a lot as a child and young adult (I brought stacks of books on weekend camping trips… #justsaying), but I mostly read from lists of “classics” until I went to college.  Then, some modern (and by modern, I mean contemporary) American writers and poets crept into my consciousness via syllabi, regular newspaper reading, and the internet.  Still, I’d never read one of Maya Angelou’s books until a couple of weeks ago.  This despite having my interest in her history (and stories) rekindled when she passed away this past spring.  Given my focus here on the blog, it makes sense that the first Angelou title I would pick up would be her first cookbook, Hallelujah! The Welcome Table: A Lifetime of Memories with Recipes.

Throughout Maya Angelou’s life, from her childhood in Stamps, Arkansas, to her world travels as a bestselling writer, good food has played a central role. Preparing and enjoying homemade meals provides a sense of purpose and calm, accomplishment and connection. Now in Hallelujah! The Welcome Table, Angelou shares memories pithy and poignant–and the recipes that helped to make them both indelible and irreplaceable.

Angelou tells us about the time she was expelled from school for being afraid to speak–and her mother baked a delicious maple cake to brighten her spirits. She gives us her recipe for short ribs along with a story about a job she had as a cook at a Creole restaurant (never mind that she didn’t know how to cook and had no idea what Creole food might entail). There was the time in London when she attended a wretched dinner party full of wretched people; but all wasn’t lost–she did experience her initial taste of a savory onion tart. She recounts her very first night in her new home in Sonoma, California, when she invited M. F. K. Fisher over for cassoulet, and the evening Deca Mitford roasted a chicken when she was beyond tipsy–and created Chicken Drunkard Style. And then there was the hearty brunch Angelou made for a homesick Southerner, a meal that earned her both a job offer and a prophetic compliment: “If you can write half as good as you can cook, you are going to be famous.”

Maya Angelou is renowned in her wide and generous circle of friends as a marvelous chef. Her kitchen is a social center. From fried meat pies, chicken livers, and beef Wellington to caramel cake, bread pudding, and chocolate éclairs, the one hundred-plus recipes included here are all tried and true, and come from Angelou’s heart and her home. Hallelujah! The Welcome Table is a stunning collaboration between the two things Angelou loves best: writing and cooking.

This cookbook combines 28 vignettes (they could be called short stories or flashes of memory, too) centered around a particular recipe or meal menu, often connected to a friend or family member that made an impression on Angelou at some point in her life.  The cookbook progresses from her younger years growing up in her grandmother’s store to learning to cook Creole cuisine out of absolute necessity to recollections from later years and mentoring relationships.  It’s a story of a life, food and how it helps people to interact and connect with each other, and how cooking and hospitality can be used to understand the human condition.

The prose sections are easily the best part of this cookbook.  Angelou offers a variety of experiences and stories: some poignant, some funny, others tragic, courageous, homey and inspiring.  The selection is superb and ranges the entire emotional spectrum, much of the twentieth century, and geography that varies from the American South to Europe to California and back.  It's a window into Angelou's extraordinary life and experience as an African-American woman, artist and academic.  She lived, and wrote beautifully about it.

The food doesn’t sound half-bad, either (see: understatement, definition of).  There’s a mix here of southern comfort food, Cajun, traditional American classics and French fare.  It’s a combination born of a lifetime of moving, settling in somewhere new, and adapting to a changing world and new friends.   The recipes themselves are focused on main courses and sides suitable for lunch or dinner, and a few desserts.  It’s not very vegetarian-friendly or health-conscious, though there is one section at the end dedicated to vegetarian recipes. 

I tried two recipes: Crackling Corn Bread (Maya’s grandmother’s recipe, which she claimed was better than other peoples’ Sunday cake), and Pickled Peaches.  The peaches were a success!  Different than anything I’ve ever made before, in a good way.  They’d be perfect served with (regular) cornbread, chicken, and green beans.  The Crackling Corn Bread… was a flop.  I think this may have been due to my source of cracklings (chicharrones) more than the recipe itself.  It did smell amazing while it was baking!  But here, have the recipe that worked:

Pickled Peaches

INGREDIENTS

6 medium nearly ripe peaches, peeled and pitted

3/4 cup sugar

1/8 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup cider vinegar

1 cup orange juice

1 tablespooon whole cloves

2 cinnamon sticks

DIRECTIONS

Put peaches in large post, add sugar, salt, vinegar, juice, cloves, and cinnamon sticks, and cover with water.  Boil for 30 minutes. Take off stove, and let cool.  Put in refrigerator in its own liquid.  Discard cinnamon and cloves.  Serve cold.

One downside (if you want to call it that) of the cookbook is that the recipes have few “fine” directions. For example: Water necessary for the recipe isn’t listed in the ingredients section.  There aren’t any warnings like “do not overstir,” no mention of how many minutes to mix, or how fine to chop the ingredients.  The recipes are clearly meant to be more of a guide than precise chemistry.  If you’re the kind of cook who interprets things loosely and puts their own spin on recipes, this method will suit you down to the ground.

Hallelujah! is a treasure of a book, whether you try the recipes or not.  It’s worth owning for Angelou’s stories alone, though the food sounds mouth-watering as well. 

Recommended for: anyone who likes good food and a story well-told, and especially anyone interested in food culture and the American South.

I read and reviewed this book as part of the #diversiverse challenge.

Interested in other food-related posts?  Check out Beth Fish Reads' Weekend Cooking!

monday memories - east of the sun and west of the moon

Emma of Miss Print and Nicole at The Book Bandit have started a new weekly feature called Monday Memories.  To participate, all you have to do is take a photo of one of your books (or a library book that means a lot to you) and talk a bit about why it made an impression.  Today I'm going to talk about Kay Nielsen's illustrated masterpiece East of the Sun and West of the Moon.

My love of reading is no accident - I come from a family of strong women who read (and gift) books to their daughters.  East of the Sun and West of the Moon: Old Tales From the North was a gift from my great-grandmother to my grandmother for Christmas in 1926.  1926!  My grandmother was seven years old that year (and she's still reading every day - I hope I'm doing the same at 95!).  In time, she read it to her own children, and when I was a kid she sent it to my mother to share with my siblings and me.  When my parents downsized their book collection, I asked for it.  It remains one of my most precious possessions.

It's a beautiful book, and even better, it's well-preserved.  I don't know how, exactly, as it has by now been through three generations of children, and kids can be pretty careless when it comes to books.  There is one illustration and a couple of other pages with enthusiastic pencil scribbles all over them, but otherwise the text is pristine.

And what pages!  This is an Art Deco-styled piece of, well... ART.  From the endpapers to the in-text black-and-white prints to the full-color illustrations pasted in (they were printed separately and then painstakingly inserted onto individual pages by hand!), it's all beautiful.  That visual splendor is why my childhood self adored this book, but now it's the sentimental connection that makes it dear to me.  I open it occasionally when I need to bask in the glory of books and family history.  Or when I want to reread some of my favorite fairy tales.  I've loved fairy tales from the very beginning, and I've never stopped.

As you can see, the art is a combination of patterns, wistful, magical illustration, and text design.  The pages are heavy, creamy and substantial, the letters slightly indented from the printing method.  They just don't make books like this anymore.  It's truly a treasure.  Thank you great-grandmother, Nana, and Mom!  I adore this book.

If you'd like to see more Monday Memories posts, head over to this week's link list.