The Conversation

I stood in the kitchen peeling and cutting carrots when I turned around and saw a stranger standing there. I jumped a little and dropped some carrot peels on the floor. No, he wasn't a stranger, not quite ... well, not at all. I had seen him many, many times before, just not in my kitchen. "Andy?" I said.

"I'm sorry to startle you," he said. He looked about the kitchen casually like he felt quite at home. I almost expected him to raid the refrigerator. He turned to me again. "You look a little stunned."

I nodded. "How did you get here?"

"How did I get here?" he said. "I'm always here, aren't I?"

"Well, in a way, yes," I said. "This seems different somehow."

"I know. It's a lot to take in," he said without offering another explanation for his sudden manifestation in my kitchen. He turned his attention to the lemon plaque hanging on the side of the cabinet.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" I asked.

"No thanks," he said. "I've had about 20 cups already."

Surely, he exaggerated. Andy was prone to exaggeration. He seemed amazingly composed for someone who had admittedly imbibed so much caffeine.

"Carrots?" I said, handing him a small carrot stick.

"Do I look like a bunny to you?" he said. He then shook his head and wrinkled up his nose in a way that, in spite of his words, was slightly suggestive of a bunny.

"No," I said. "You look quite wonderful actually." I looked him over. "The blue shirt brings out your eyes and, well ... " I was delving into a sensitive area. "Contrasts with your hair, you know, (ahem,) cool and warm colors being opposite on the color wheel." I refrained from saying "red," or worse yet, "orange."

He ran his fingers through his hair, a little self-consciously I thought. "Well, you picked out the outfit, so ..." He paused and rolled his eyes. "You ought to like it." He sighed and fiddled with his hair. "And now I know why you offer me carrots."

"Really, I didn't mean ... " I said. "I just happened to be cutting some. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"That's funny, Susan. Real funny. Experience would have me believe otherwise."

This was beginning to feel awkward, and I hate to admit that he had somewhat of a legitimate point. I looked away from his gaze and noticed a speck of lint on his shoulder which I plucked off. "Funny," I said. "I don't remember writing in that piece of lint."

"I think you just did," he said.

I turned my back and continued my job of cutting carrots.

"So, are we going to do this?" Andy asked me.

"What?"

"Are we going to have this conversation?"

I turned to face him. "What conversation?"

"About my little problem."

"What kind of a problem are we talking about?" I said. "Like a girl problem?"

"Well, that too ... thank you very much. My problem is that I'm bored. This is what you do now? Eat bunny food, cook and dance reggae in the basement?"

I blushed a little bit. "You know about that?"

He waved his hand back and forth between us. "We have no secrets from each other."

That made sense. Or did it? "Well, I know everything about you. I guess I never thought it was true in reverse," I said. Then, thinking about his earlier comment, I said, "I'm just trying to be healthy."

"I know. I know. It's wonderful, really, but could you please be healthy and spend a little time thinking about my problem at the same time? I mean, all I do is sit there at the Salvador Deli, drinking coffee, waiting for you to write the next scene. I mean how many cups of coffee can a man drink? Give me some adventure. Let me be the hero. Let me chase some bad guys and, you know, show off my mad kung fu skillz." He aimed a roundhouse kick in the general direction of the fridge.

I raised an eyebrow. "You have mad kung fu skillz?"

"Well, (ahem,)" he said. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that. Could you add that in there? And, while you're at it, could you give me abs of steel?"

This was truly surreal. I had meant for Andy to be a relatable average guy. "I'll ... I'll think about it." I paused. "Just hang in there a little longer," I said. "Flirt with Janie Duveau." Janie is the waitress/barista girl at the Salvador Deli. "You know, turn on the charm and the witty remarks."

"Right," said Andy. "There's just one little problem."

"What?"

He spread his arms out wide. "You write my lines!"

"Yeah," I said. "I guess that is a problem." I was hardly thinking how this current conversation was happening, and thinking about it gave me a headache.

"You used to think about me all the time, you know, and now, it's just cook, cook, cook, dance, dance, dance, work, work, work ... "

"I know," I said. "I don't like it any more than you do. You're still important to me, you know. I can't even begin to tell you how much you mean to me." Was this getting a bit weird? Well, for Pete's sake, it had gotten weird a long time before now.

"Come here," he said. He held his arms out. I came, and he gave me a squeeze and a couple of pats on the back. This was definitely getting weirder by the minute. I felt like there ought to be a soundtrack, dramatic music, perhaps comically dramatic music, swelling in the background, but what? "I Will Always Love You?"

"Well, I'm glad we had this little talk," he said, pulling away. "Now, get on that computer and write my story. No Youtube ... "

"But," I said. "It's research." It really was research ... some of it.

He shook his head at me. I found myself walking him to the front door, but where he was going from there and by what means was not perfectly clear. I suppose he was going back to Mapleville, the New Jersey town that only exists in my stories.

"I promise I won't let anything too terrible happen to you," I said. "Well, maybe a little bit terrible, but, you know, no Sherlock Holmes waterfall scenes or that sort of thing."

He sighed, perhaps with relief. He was on my doorstep now, pointing his finger at me pistol-style. "Write."

"Right," I said, not thinking about how much that seemed like an echo. "I'll try."

"Do or do not. There is no try," he said.

It's funny, but I didn't, before that moment, know he was so conversant with "Star Wars."

"Right," I said.

And then he was gone, although not truly gone. He never was.

The American Melting Pot That is My Heritage

 I've always been very interested in different cultures, traditions and family history, my own as well as everyone else's. I'm always curious to know what people know about their family history and heritage, and it's a question I like to ask. Occasionally, I've come across people who are a little suspicious of the motive behind that question. I suppose a bigot, unfortunately, may have his own reasons for asking, but I'm not coming from that point of view. I think I have more xenophilia than xenophobia.

Every spring, some of the Greek Orthodox churches in my area host Greek cultural festivals, and, every year, as I pass the signs on my commute, I think I'm going to crash one of these festivals some time. I haven't yet. I'm not Greek or so I thought. (It turns out I may be a little bit Greek, but more on that later.) I know I would enjoy the cuisine, and Greek folk dancing always seems fascinating to me.

The photo is from thesecretgreece.gr

Some years ago, the newspaper where I work published some photos of an event at an Armenian Orthodox Church where some ladies were making a traditional Armenian pastry. I looked at these photos with great interest and asked our photographer questions. My editor, who happens to be Armenian, was, I think, wondering what my fascination was with Armenian pastries. I remember the women were twisting dough, so I think this may be the recipe here.

 

This photo is from atelierchristine.com

I like Old World-y traditions, and I wish I had more connection to them. I have British heritage, but I don't have an afternoon tea habit. I have German heritage, but I don't eat German cuisine, at least not very often and not often using family recipes. I do have several German cookie recipes from my paternal grandmother and a springerle rolling pin from an aunt on that side of the family. These are treasures.

The rolling pin photo above is from Etsy.com but seems similar to the one we have. A couple of Christmases ago, I used our springerle rolling pin and my grandmother's springerle recipe to honor tradition.

We do celebrate St. Patrick's Day each year with a corned beef dinner, although this is more of a tradition that my mother decided to start and continue, not one with which she grew up. Mom found a recipe in the Silver Palate cookbook for Irish soda bread which we've now made almost every year for quite some time now. We love it. It's loaded with butter and baked in an iron skillet. I usually add dried currants and caraway. The recipe is called "Grandma Clark's Irish Sodabread" in the cookbook, and people could conclude that this was our family recipe. Interestingly enough, the Irish part of my heritage is not even on the Clark side.

Here's a slightly altered version of the "Silver Palate" recipe.

If you were to ask my younger self about my family history, I would have told you that I was English, German and Irish. It wasn't until I was in high school and saw some Swedish names in the Clark family tree that I knew I had any Swedish heritage. I found this quite astonishing, although Mom told me at the time that the percentage was small and didn't seem significant.

I grew up in a northern New Jersey town, Cedar Grove, that has a 29.7 percent Italian population and now live in a neighboring town, Verona, with an Italian population of 25.8 percent. My Italian school and neighborhood friends always seemed to be more closely tied to Old World cultural traditions. Some of them had grandparents or members of the family who spoke Italian. I have eaten some of the most fabulous Italian food at church pot luck dinners and community events as well as countless independent Italian restaurants in my area. I'm not complaining! I just never had quite as much sense of connection to my own heritage.

Have you seen the ancestry.com commercial for the DNA kit where a man says he discovers he's not at all German as he thought but Scottish instead? "I traded in my lederhosen for a kilt," he says.

My brother Bruce recently took the ancestry.com DNA test. Although some things confirmed what we already knew, there were quite a few surprises in those results. What would be true for my brother would be true for me too. We discovered we are of 40 percent Great Britain heritage and 22 percent Western Europe heritage. That's not the surprising part. Bruce presumed that this was mostly German, although it seems the test doesn't break it down. According to my cousin Kevin, that would include some French too.

Kevin is the family historian, looking into our genealogy and sharing his discoveries with the rest of us. He discovered that there are French Huguenots in our history on my father's side. This seems to make sense, because we have ancestors from Alsace-Lorraine, actually on both sides of the family.

For the past two years, I have performed with my Salt and Light Puppet Team for an Oktoberfest event at my church. In the first one, I did a little skit with my ventriloquism style puppet, Professor Votshisname. I told the professor something to the effect that much of the audience must have German heritage.

Votshisname: And what about you? Are you German?

Susan: Yes, I'm German. My ancestors came from Alsace-Lorraine.

Votshisname: So, you are French!

And from there, we argue while making a quick tour through the history of Alsace-Lorraine switching back and forth between French and German territory. By the way, this was a tough bit to memorize!

And now, since that event, I learn that both are true. I actually am French, at least a little bit.

So, now on to the ancestry.com surprises.

Surprise #1 -- I am much more Scandinavian than I thought.

From www.scanditaal.nl

According to the test, I am 20 percent Scandinavian, although it doesn't break that down into Swedish, Norwegian or Danish. This is more than my brother's estimated 12.5 percent Swedish and more than Mom had led me to believe when I first learned I had some Swedish blood.

Surprise #2 -- I'm also a little bit Finnish or northern Russian.

From www.thelovelyplanet.net

According to my brother's test, we are also six percent Finnish or northern Russian. Again, it's not highly specific as to which of the two. Learning this, I was sparked by curiosity about the Finns and why "Finnish" was listed separately from "Scandinavian" on this test. I did some Google searches and learned that Finland is considered a Nordic but not a Scandinavian country. This reminded me of something I learned while teaching English in Hungary in the summer of 1994. The Hungarian language has no relationship to the neighboring Romanian language, which is a Romance language, or to any of the Slavic languages in Eastern Europe. It's in its own little language group with only two other languages, Finnish and Estonian. Finland and Estonia, of course, are geographically close together, so I wondered how Hungarian language was related with these. Of course, ancient people groups migrated everywhere. Now, again, I am curious on that question. This is what research does to you, answers some questions and raises others. If anyone has some insights on this or knows of a source for information, comment below.

Surprise #3 -- Although my DNA is 100 percent European, it is not 100 percent Northern European.

Specifically, I am three percent either Italian or Greek. So, after repeatedly telling various people that I didn't have any Italian blood in me, I actually might? As I said, I live in an Italian area, so this question comes up fairly often. Someone will tell me that he or she is 100 percent or 50 percent Italian, and I'll tell that person that I'm not at all Italian. Some of the towns I cover as a reporter also have a high Italian population. I can remember covering a dinner hosted by the Sicilian Federation of New Jersey where a local politician was honored. My neighbor at the table used the placemat map of Italy to point out to me the area from which his ancestors came. It turns out that I actually may be Italian, just a little bit. I can not express how surprising that is to me.

It would be interesting to know more specifically if this line of my ancestors were Italian or Greek. The two ethnicities seem to have some physical similarities. A Greek-American writer friend, Stephanie Nikolopoulos, and I were just recently talking about Sophia Loren, an Italian actress, who portrayed a Greek sponge diver finding an art treasure in the movie, "The Boy on a Dolphin."

Photo from "The Boy on the Dolphin," taken from Amazon

However, Italy and Greece seem very culturally distinct. I know it doesn't ultimately matter, and I may never know the answer to this question. It is merely interesting.

Along with this surprising finding, I also learn that I am six percent Iberian, either Spanish or Portuguese.

From www.crossed-pins-flags.com

Really? I would never have guessed it. This leads right into Surprise # 4.

Surprise #4 -- I'm a lot less Irish than I thought.

According to this test, we are only three percent Irish. That's much less than the 12.5 percent we thought it was. Compared to this, I have six percent Iberian DNA, which is twice the amount of Irish. This completely astonishes me.

I am reminded however of a theory I've read about the "black Irish," the dark-haired Irish. My Irish grandfather, my maternal grandfather, had very dark, dramatic and black hair and fair skin. So did his siblings and our other Irish ancestors. My mother also had black hair before it grayed. I have read an explanation, apparently a controversial one, that the "black Irish" got their dark-haired characteristics from Spanish invaders to Ireland. Suddenly, this theory seems very possible to me. Maybe some of that Iberian blood is actually through the Irish line of the family.

 I suppose I've always assumed I must have a good dose of Irish DNA, because my skin is very fair. "A Whiter Shade of Pale" could be my theme song. I don't have the bronzed Sophia Loren skin tone. I don't tan. I fry. However, just because I have Mediterranean European DNA would not necessarily mean that I would reflect that in my apperance.

This is the exact reason why I didn't blink when retired New York Jets football player, Bruce Harper, told me he was Irish. I'm not name dropping. In fact, I'll confess that I know so little about professional sports that I was not familiar with his name at all before meeting him in the context of his work with the Boys & Girls Club, where he works on the board of directors for a local club. I met him while covering another dinner event for the paper -- my job does have its perks! -- and was seated beside him. I found him to be very personable.

From newyorksportscene.com

When he told me, "I'm Irish," being gullible, I answered, "Oh, really?" No, he doesn't look Irish, but I didn't think it was completely impossible that he might have some Irish DNA that didn't reflect itself in his appearance. He was joking with me. He went on to tell me how he had traveled to Ireland with his family and had jokingly convinced his children they were Irish in the same way he was teasing me. By the way, Harper has a great youth mentoring program, Heroes and Cool Kids.

Surprise #5 -- I am one percent Jewish!

One percent may be a tiny amount, but it is, nonetheless, interesting and surprising. I am very pleased to identify in some small way with the Chosen People. My first novel, currently out of print, "And the Violin Cried" has some Jewish themes, about a broken friendship that's repaired, a family that experiences anti-Semitic abuse and an heirloom violin that survives the Holocaust. I remember a former coworker, a Gentile, tellling my Jewish coworker that I was an "honorary Jew." I'd love to be considered an honorary Jew, although I'm not sure a goy can be the one to bestow that honor on me.

In another memory, in seventh grade, I was in line at the school cafeteria, and a boy asked me, "Susan, are you Jewish?" I said, "No." He then swung his arm in front of him, snapping his finger, in a gesture we all recognize as meaning, "Too bad." I was too stupid or too humble to understand his question had any romantic significance before that moment. On another day shortly after that, again in the cafeteria line, he asked me if I liked bagels. This time, I answered, "Yes."

I wonder what I or he would have said if I knew about that one percent at that time? His question could mean many things. He could have been asking if I was culturally Jewish, ethnically Jewish or if I was a practicing religious Jew. It's highly likely that the last option was what was most important to him.

I came across some interesting statistics about Jewish people recently. Below is one of them.

I think this is a reflection of God's continued blessing on His Chosen People. Mom and I also were very curious and interested in a list we came across of notable Jewish entertainers. Some on that list were surprises. It seems there are many accomplished Jews in history as well as in current times. This all leads to an even more recent discovery over which I stumbled, much along the same theme. I now follow Youtuber Grant Woolard who has some very creative videos, including this parody of the Beach Boys' "God Only Knows What I'd Be Without You?" Disclaimer: I think his intentions are meant to be flattering, but I only wish he left Monica Lewinsky out of this, since there are better Jewish female role models he could have chosen.

So, what will I tell people now if they ask about my family history or ethnic background? I can no longer name just three or four countries of origin. Do I go through the whole list and give all of the percentages? Perhaps, I could, or perhaps I could use comedian Steve Carrell as a model. I had read that when someone asked him what sort of accent he did for the Gru character in "Despicable Me," he apparently answered, "You know Europe? From there." I think that could be my answer to this question. "You know Europe? From there."

For the Love of Coffee

I've always loved coffee from the time when I was a young girl and would rarely be allowed a few sips or taste it in the form of coffee ice cream. I not only love coffee, but I love foods with coffee flavor or mocha flavor. The cocoa bean and the coffee bean were meant to be friends, although not according to my brother Dan. He likes both, just not mixed. Although I agree with him on most points, I don't on this one.

I'm almost the only woman in my family who does like coffee. My three sisters-in-law don't drink coffee, although a couple of them admit they enjoy the aroma of coffee. I find this interesting that they can enjoy the aroma but not the taste. Even my mother had to be converted by my father, when they were first married, from a tea drinker to a coffee drinker. (Actually, she and I drink both.)

Initially, I enjoyed my coffee with cream and no sugar, as my parents drink it. It was a hairdresser, back in college days, that introduced me to sweetened coffee, bringing me some she'd fixed to her own liking while I sat under the hairdryer. Some of you might think it would be better for me if I had maintained my former tastes. I drink mine sweetened, although not necessarily with sugar.

I make an almost daily trek to the Dunkin Donuts while working at the office. The girls there call me "my friend" and usually know how I like it. Sometimes, my coffee has been fixed before I reach the counter.

 My fictional guys of "Action Men with Silly Putty" are coffee drinkers too and spend a lot of time at their hangout, the art-themed Salvador Deli, for coffee and paninis ... partly because they are bachelors who can't cook. My narrator, Andy Westin, has an interesting, playful relationship with the waitress/barista girl, Janie Duveau.

Here's a good coffee scene from the book ...

...............................................................................................................................................

"Well, seriously, why don't you try the Edvard Munch special. It's new," said Janie.

"I don't know. Is it something I can moonch on?"

Janie smirked. "Very punny."

"Will it make me ... er ... scream?" I asked, eyeing the famous Scream print on the wall across the room.

"Yup."

"For joy or for some other reason?"

"That all depends. You'll scream a little, sweat a little, blow your nose and then you'll just pass out ... from all the jalapenos."

"Janie, you know I don't like hot stuff."

"Of course, I know." There was that smirk again. "I'll put you down for the Rothko burger and the Van Gogh Potato Eaters fries." Janie jotted it on her order pad.

I turned to Jack. "She just wants to torture me."

"Yup," said Jack. "I'll have the same as Andy."

Janie turned to me again. "Well, at least, try a different beverage. Try a cappuccino."

"But, you ... aggravating woman, I don't want a cappuccino. I want my coffee the way I always drink it ... black. Nothing fancy."

"Trust me. You want a cappuccino."

"Don't argue with me, you ... b ... " I almost said big, although I wasn't quite sure where that was going, but thought "big" might be below the belt. No woman likes to be called big. "You little ... rascal." Rascal was the first word that suggested itself after I committed to "little."

Janie sighed and walked away, something not true to her usual pattern. Seconds later, she reappeared at the table, setting a ready-made cappuccino in front of me. I looked down into my cup. "That's cool," I said. "It's smiling at me." The cinnamon was arranged in the foam, apparently stenciled, in such a way that it formed a smiley face.

"I told you I've been going to barista training," said Janie.

I poked my chin in Jack's direction. "Does he want cappuccino too?"

"He does." Janie left us again and, moments later, set a cappuccino in front of Jack. His had a Pac Man made in foam. This place was so full of art that even the cappuccino must be works of art.

"Thank you, Janie," said Jack. "It's so cool looking that I'm afraid to drink it," and then, looking into her face, "But I will. I definitely will."

........................................................................................................................................

My brother Tim, a lifelong mystery fan, was tremendously supportive to me throughout my creative process in writing "Action Men with Silly Putty." The men in my family enjoy a very plot-driven story, so I was a little surprised to learn he has taken such an interest in the relationship aspects of my story. Janie and Ellen, the manager of Salvador Deli, must come into future "Action Men" stories, he tells me. I plan on it.

In related thoughts, I was among much of America that was snowed in this weekend. The snowy weekend inspired an "Ode to Coffee" vlog, featuring an 18th century poem I found online. In this cold weather, coffee is a great comfort.

Take One -- Book Reading from Action Men with Silly Putty, Chapter 1, "Toy Men, Threatening Thugs and a Teddy Bear"

I have to say I have been very inspired by the bloggers and vloggers I have "met" and seen on Google +. So, I decided to experiment with my webcam and make a recording of myself reading the first chapter of my novel. 

I am a novice at making videos, so this is a no frills video without any fancy editing. I think the reading is not bad, and I hope you enjoy hearing my book excerpt. If any of you more experienced vloggers have some suggestions for improving or have any tips for me, I would be open to input. 

This is a long excerpt, about 20 minutes, so you may need to fit this in when you have some time or listen for a few minutes and see if the story captivates you. 

Berry Trifle for "Downton Abbey" Night

 

A professor friend of mine, a college friend's father, recently posted a photo of his wife's English trifle dessert for Downton Abbey night. I thought this was a wonderful idea. I celebrated my birthday this past weekend and thought a trifle dessert with Downton Abbey could be a part of my celebration.

I have made variations of trifle before. The last recipe I tried before this was an adapted Pampered Chef recipe, a sort of Black Forest cake variation. I remember I used a Ghiradelli brownie mix instead of Duncan Hines. It was delicious but not exactly a traditional English trifle. I've even seen variations made with Twinkies, but, obviously, great English manors in the 1920s did not serve trifle made with Twinkies. I decided to look online for a traditional recipe.

That was a trickier business than I expected. I found several trifle recipes by British TV chef Jamie Oliver. These seemed promising for being more authentic and traditional. Reading one of his recipes, I had to keep reminding myself that "jelly" meant "gelatin." (For British friends and readers, you may already know that Americans use the word "jelly" to refer to what you would call "jam." You may not know that, although gelatin is the formally correct American term for "jelly," most of us, informally, use the brand name word Jell-O in place of "gelatin.") 

Jamie Oliver's one recipe called for ready-made sponge cake or trifle sponges and blancmange, a gelatin dessert made with cornstarch and milk. It would save some steps to use ready-made products, but I didn't think I would find either of these in stores near me, at least, not easily. I would be more likely to find a ready-made angel food cake, but I didn't think angel food cake was synonymous with sponge cake. I just looked up the difference between the two, and it would seem that angel food cake is made with egg whites only and sponge cake with whole eggs.  

I then found this Williams Sonoma recipe that provides links to their recipes for both the sponge cake and crème anglaise layers and uses dried cherries and pears. That seemed both authentic and doable, if more time consuming, since it provided the recipes for components I doubted I would find in stores. In the end I used a different Williams Sonoma recipe.

I settled on making this Williams Sonoma berry trifle recipe. There were several reasons why I picked this one. 1) This one uses mixed berries, and berries are my favorite fruit. 2) This one called for ready-made pound cake, which I was more confident I could find in stores. It would also be less time consuming to use a ready-made cake. 3) Several of the recipes I reviewed and considered called for some sort of liquor, possibly a sweet sherry. This one uses orange liqueur which I already had on hand. 

I am basically a teetotaler and live in a family of teetotalers, but we do cook and bake with wine and other liquor sometimes. Occasionally, we buy liqueur for a special recipe that hangs around for ages since we don't drink it or frequently use it for a recipe. We have some kirsch that we used years ago for a Bon Appetit magazine recipe for Black Forest cake for my father's birthday. Somehow, we had some Cointreau liqueur we used for I forget what recipe, and I was glad to put it to another use and avoid buying another liquor to hang around for ages.

 This recipe calls for two pounds of mixed berries. I went over the two pounds, using a pound of strawberries, 12 ounces of blackberries and a dry pint (12 ounces) of blueberries. Here are my beautiful strawberries in their special berry basket of the lettuce spinner, ready for their bath (or maybe shower would be a better term.)

I hulled and sliced my strawberries.

I then added the other berries to the mix.

I then added quarter cup orange juice, a quarter cup Cointreau and a quarter cup superfine sugar to my berries to let them macerate. The superfine sugar was one ingredient that was slightly elusive. I looked for it in the nearest supermarket, Kings Supermarket, and did not find it on the shelves. I thought perhaps I would have to use confectioners' sugar. I'm not sure that would have worked as well, however; because the superfine sugar is a quick dissolve sugar to use with liquids. I came home, and we were out of confectioners' sugar. I then headed to Foodtown. (I realize these are store chains that are regional to me, but it may be helpful to those in my area.) I hoped to find the superfine sugar and knew, that if I failed to find it, I could, at least, pick up the confectioners' sugar. I did find the superfine sugar at Foodtown. Success! 

Each of these chains carry different products. Kings Supermarket caters to a sophisticated clientele. This is an advantage when tracking down a specialty product, but the shelves are sometimes filled with specialties and imports and have less room for more ordinary products. They also may not carry as many baking needs.

So, if you have a little trouble tracking down superfine sugar. Mine looked like this, in a tall plastic container with a flip and pour top.

I made one mistake though. I forgot I would need the confectioners' sugar also for my cream layer, so ... Almost success! Cooks, bakers, do you find yourself doing absent-minded things like this sometimes?

At home, I zested my lemon with a microplane. The zest would be mixed into the cream layer.

I found Entenmann's brand pound cake, which might be helpful to those in the Northeast U.S. I'm not sure in what states this brand is available, but I was surprised to see Entenmann's products in stores while I was in Florida. I bought two cakes, not knowing how much I would need to equal six cups of cubed cake. The recipe actually asks for lemon pound cake which I did not find in the store (but would likely be delicious!)

One loaf cubed was approximately equal to six cups. I did not open the second box.

My process was interrupted by my birthday dinner with Mom and Dad out at Olive Garden. I left my berries to macerate. After dinner, I bought my silly confectioners' sugar, so I could continue.

I then whipped my cream in the mixer: two cups of heavy cream, one and a half teaspoons of vanilla extract and a quarter cup of confectioners' sugar. I had some more obstacles here. I was using an ancient old General Electric mixer that dates back to the 1960s at least, so it took a higher speed and three times the time allotted in the recipe to get my cream whipped, but, at last, I got those nice soft peaks. The lever for changing speeds is also broken on this old mixer, but my clever dad created a wire gizmo to work in place of the old broken lever.

In a separate smaller bowl, I beat a half pound of mascarpone cheese to soften it. I then folded the mascarpone into the whipped cream and folded in the lemon zest.

I then alternated layering the ingredients in the trifle dish. It should be three layers each of the cubed pound cake, the cream and the berries. Perhaps because I added more fruit, I couldn't fit a third layer of cream in the trifle dish. I solved this by slicing up some of the second pound cake and serving that with dollops of the extra cream for that evening. 

Here is my finished product.

In spite of a few obstacles and absent-minded moments, it came out quite well. It was refrigerated overnight. By the time it was Downton Abbey time, as my mother put it, the flavors had married. As TV chef Emeril Lagasse would put it, the various layers of flavors were getting "all happy in there." I suppose it's fitting that these sweet things should happily marry. Fans of the show would like to see Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes just as happily married.

We watched Season 6, Episodes One and Two back to back. You may want to wait on reading ahead if you haven't yet seen these episodes.

The story line concerning Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson stood out to me as being the most touching. Mrs. Hughes has a little private talk with Mrs. Patmore, the cook, and expresses that she is embarrassed about her aging body. She wonders if Mr. Carson is expecting a full marriage or he expects to live with her more like brother and sister. In their extreme delicacy, the two ladies have enough difficulty discussing this matter as two female friends. In even greater awkwardness, Mrs. Hughes commissions Mrs. Patmore to speak to Carson on her behalf.

Mom and I felt so sympathetic with Mrs. Patmore, exchanging tense glances across the room. This photo captures how uncomfortable the poor woman is. At last, after a lot of  delicate hinting and euphemism, Carson begins to understand her meaning. We are rewarded with a rather touching speech.

Carson says, "Tell her this, Mrs. Patmore: That in my eyes, she is beautiful...."

"I want a real marriage, a true marriage with everything that that involves. I love her, Mrs. Patmore. I am happy, and tickled, and bursting with pride that she would agree to be my wife. And I want us to live as closely as two people can for the time that remains to us on earth." -- Mr. Carson

Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes meet together some time after that, and Mrs. Hughes herself has some sweet words.

"If you want me, you can have me, to quote Oliver Cromwell, 'warts and all.'" -- Mrs. Hughes. (Sigh) Very satisfying and sweet, right? We would hope spouses would forgive us all our imperfections.

Mr. and Mrs. Bates also have a beautiful moment. Poor Anna has had several miscarriages and is very concerned she can't give Mr. Carson children as he would wish. She seems to blame herself, but Mr. Bates says something lovely to remove some of that self-blame.

"To me, we are one person, and that person can't have children." -- Mr. Bates. "We are one person." That's exactly how married people should feel.

In another little story line, Edith's daughter Marigold temporarily goes missing with Mrs. Drewe, the wife of a tenant farmer who had been raising her. It's a complicated situation. It is practically a kidnapping, only she takes her safely back to the farm, and her husband helps to return the child. Mrs. Drewe tells her husband that nobody was paying any attention to the child at the outdoor event where Edith and family were looking over some pigs. I can understand some of Mrs. Drewe's feeling. She had grown attached to Marigold. The Grantham children only spend one hour a day with their parents and the rest of the time with nannies. It doesn't seem like an ideal way to raise children. I don't really want Lady Edith to be separated from her daughter, but I wonder what arrangement will be best for Marigold? Lady Edith is pursuing a journalism career and considering moving into a London flat. This seems to suit her talents, but how will this lifestyle fit with raising Marigold? It will be interesting to see where this story line goes.

Etsy Shop Finds for Bookish Women

With the help of various craft shops on etsy.com, the book lover can completely accessorize herself with books or at least items relating to books. 

I always have a satisfying feeling when ordering from Etsy, because I feel like I am helping to support a creative entrepreneur. I have a kind of empathy for all artists, even if my "art" is different in nature.

 You can order this Write On bracelet above for $39.95 from A Likely Story shop on Etsy. This is the very bracelet that I bought from this shop, and I love it. Part of the charm of this bracelet is that it is made with manual typewriter keys. To me, the manual typewriter is such a fun and romantic symbol for writers. I don't actually want to use one -- I've been too spoiled by computers and modern software -- but I like its old-fashioned charm and look. The charms include both open and closed books, reading glasses, typewriter, computer, coffee mug and memo pad with pencil. I liked this one for myself, because it seemed to represent different aspects of me as a writer and reader. The last item seems to resemble the reporter's notebooks I carry for my newspaper work. The books could represent ones I've written as well as ones I read. It had the charming typewriter as well as the writing instrument I actually use -- the computer. The coffee cup, I must say, fits me very well too. You know you're a frequent Dunkin Donuts customer when sometimes your coffee is made before you reach the counter.

There are a variety of similar bracelets from A Likely Story for authors, librarians, writers and bibliophiles. How about this Got Books? bracelet for $39.95? One of these book covers says "Romance novel" and another says "True story" to represent your diverse reading material.

For the mystery lover, either writer or reader ... 

The ptierneydesigns Etsy shop has jewelry for mystery lovers, either writers or readers. Above is her mystery writer's wearable art pin for $19.75.  The pin is a kilt pin. The collected charms include reproductions of book covers for The Moving Finger by Agatha Christie, Fer-de-Lance by Rex Stout, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle and Murders in the Rue Morgue by Edgar Allen Poe. The other charms are a revolver, an inkwell, a red herring and a cleaver. Just imagine what a conversation starter it would be to have a cleaver on your pin. Somehow, the cleaver looks more menacing to me than the revolver. It looks more, er, accident prone. Hopefully, you can assure your friends that you're only interested in reading (or writing) mysteries, not in acting them out.

This reminds me of the item below. This mug declares, "Pay no attention to my browsing history. I'm a writer, not a serial killer." I must say that I've had a few Google searches that might make me appear suspicious.

The mug is not an Etsy item, but you can get that mug here for $10 from teechip.com.

Back to my previous thought, I love ptierneydesigns shop. She has so many nice things for the mystery lover, including many charm bracelets themed around specific mystery books and writers. How about a bracelet that is a tribute to several of the great fictional detectives?

  

This one features Charlie Chan, Ellery Queen, Miss Marple, Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot and Nick Charles. The detectives' images are handmade with plastic and covered in sealant. The pewter charms include a fedora, fingerprint, knitting, calabash pipe, mustache and handcuffs. Mystery lovers, I'm sure you can guess which of these detectives are represented by some of these objects. You can purchase this one here.

Here is a purse that is almost identical to one I have, available from the NovelCreations shop on Etsy. You can purchase this one for $60.00 here. The purses from this shop are made with real book covers with cotton fabric on the sides, handles and button and strap closures. A Jane Austen cover isn't the only possibility. There are lots of other options like To Kill a Mockingbird, Pride and Prejudice, Charlotte's Web and even Gray's Anatomy. Maybe, you'd like a purse with a Shakespeare plays cover or Beauty and the Beast.

Can you tell I'm a bracelet lover? What about a twin set of kindred spirit rings for you and a friend inspired by the Anne of Green Gables series?

You can see these rings frame a bit of text from a book page. That text happens to include the words Diana, Anne and kindred spirits. It's a perfect gift for you and a fellow Anne of Green Gables loving friend. My friend Betty often calls me her kindred spirit, and I gave her one of these rings a couple of Christmases ago. These rings are available for $33.00 from CSLiteraryJewelry.

I know the Christmas season is past, but birthdays come all year long.

Comedic Classical Music

 

Some of my favorite musical discoveries over the past few years have been classical music performances that have some sort of comedic element. It's amazing how many different musicians and groups have done this. Maybe purists would feel that they are being gimmicky, trying a little too hard to make classical music entertaining to a new audience. Then again, maybe these musicians are just being creative, wanting to do something new instead of performing a piece in the same traditional way. I think it's fun. King Solomon writes in Proverbs that "Laughter doeth good like a medicine," so here is your prescription for the day. I hope it uplifts you and boosts your mood.

I suppose making light of classical music is nothing new. Those of us who grew up watching Looney Tunes got an education in classical music from some episodes without really knowing it. This Elmer Fudd "Kill Da Wabbit" solo, to the tune of Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries," is mentioned in my mystery comedy, Action Men with Silly Putty. I won't tell you the context, because that might be a spoiler!

As a child, I remember listening to a record we had of Saint-Saens'* Carnival of the Animals. I thought it was a kiddie album, because it had dressed animals carrying instrument cases on the cover. This particular recording also had silly poetry by Ogden Nash to introduce each piece, such as this one ...

 "Camille Saint-Saens*

 Was wracked with pains

When people addressed him 

As Saint Sanes

He held the human race to blame,

Because it could not pronounce his name.

So, he turned with metronome and fife,

To glorify other kinds of life.

Be quiet please -- for here begins

His salute to feathers, fur and fins."

The poetry added to the feeling that it was both humorous and child-friendly. Even the actual compositions sound whimsical and humorous. The 2000 Disney Fantasia movie brought more whimsy to the "Finale" of Carnival of the Animals with animated flamingos. The clip below supposedly answers the age old question of what would happen if you gave a yo-yo to a flock of flamingos.

One unique musician that seems to fall into his own niche is Victor Borge, (1909 - 2000.) He was both a great pianist and a comedian. Sometimes, watching clips, I am frustrated that he does more clowning than playing, but below is one of my favorite routines that is a good mix of both. He and his duet partner seem to play both a kind of Twister game and musical chairs while playing Liszt's "Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2."

I love the King's Singers. This diverse men's acappella group often incorporates some humor into their performances. Here they are singing words to Bach's "Toccata and Fugue in D Minor," supposedly telling the story of Bach's writer's, er, composer's block. Well, it starts out as Bach's "Toccata ..." but also has samples of other Bach pieces such as "Badinerie" and "Brandenberg Concerto No. 2."

Swingle Singers is another interesting acappella group that uses jazz scat singing techniques to sing classical instrumental pieces. In this performance of Tchaikovsky's "1812 Overture," their body language and facial expressions are humorous at times, and it gets sillier and sillier towards the end, when it becomes necessary to imitate sounds of bombs and firecrackers and church bells. This performance is from the 80s. (I think one of the women is wearing a banana clip.) The group still exists but is made up of different singers.

This Italian string quartet, Paganini, is a new discovery of mine. They seem to use comedy in all of their song performances. This is a funny rendition of Pachelbel's "Canon in D." When the violinists dance off the stage, it becomes more glaringly obvious that the cellist has a comparatively boring part to play, repeatedly playing the same eight notes. He changes that up by using some plucking techniques and improvisation midway. They then change up styles to bluegrass fiddling, tango, and then some sort of gypsy/klezmer style, all with a lot of physical comedy and dancing.

This reminds me of another creative interpretation of "Canon in D" by the Los Angeles Guitar Quartet. I even love the punny name, "Pachelbel's 'Loose' Canon." I couldn't embed the video for some reason, but it would be worthwhile to go to the link. The guitar quartet also deviates off into multiple styles of variations on the theme, including Latin jazz, bluegrass, varying jazz styles, Spanish guitar, etc. If it doesn't exactly make you laugh out loud throughout, it is, at least, fun, and you may laugh like I did when they make an attempt to be pseudo-heavy metal and shout "Pachelbel!"

This Polish string quartet, the MozART group, are another recent discovery of mine, and they are quite entertaining. This clip shows the use of unusual instruments, a balloon, for one, and a ping pong ball and paddle as a rhythm instrument. They also have a little fun with an audience member.

I don't know if the next two pieces are classical pieces in the strictest terms. They are disco songs performed in a classical style. The Piano Guys have a punny title for their performance, "I Want You Bach," and seems to play around with the idea of what if Bach was inspired by the Jackson Five? It's as fun visually as it is auditorily.

When I first saw Igudesman & Joo's version of Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive," I watched it over again three times and laughed out loud each time. I showed it to my father who didn't find it nearly so hilarious, perhaps because he wasn't familiar with the original song they were parodying. I left my father at the computer and returned some time later to see him laughing until tears came to his eyes at another routine of theirs, "The Piano Teacher." This is "I Will Survive" as a kind of Russian folk song style. I especially like the melodramatic spoken part.

I discovered I like the composer Leroy Anderson and his light orchestra pieces. "The Typewriter" may not make you fall out of your chair laughing, but it is whimsical and fun. 

And so is his "Sandpaper Ballet" with some interesting sandpaper block rhythm.

How about a new classical style piece inspired by technological sounds, "The Microsoft Windows Waltz?"

This last one is more of a performance of Rowan Atkinson's physical antics, as he has some highly unorthodox style of conducting Beethoven's "Fifth Symphony." At times, he seems to enact scenarios inspired by the music and finds unusual uses for his conductor's baton, using it for sword fighting and air golf.

 

I hope this puts you in a light and happy mood, as well as possibly introduces you to new performances and groups.

* I tried to get the umlaut over the E in Saint-Saens, but I didn't know how to do this without copying and pasting. Copying and pasting caused all sorts of havoc with my formatting, so I removed it, although I know the umlaut should be there.