Book Review: The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


This novel can be described much like the food that Rose survives on: superficially appealing but inevitably lacking in substance. The premise is captivating (she can “taste” the emotions/feelings of the person preparing the food), and the characters are endearing though often frustrating (especially the parents), but in the end you want so much more than what you are left with. And although I enjoyed the journey of the story, I’d be hard pressed to say what, exactly, was the whole point.

If you really love character driven stories (i.e., no plot), and are charmed by the “magical realism” genre, you might consider picking up this book for a decent, easy read. Otherwise, I would suggest discovering or revisiting “Like Water for Chocolate” instead.

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Mighty Life List #76: Martini at Musso & Frank

Ah, Musso & Frank! One of the last remaining in the endangered species of classic old Hollywood restaurants. If you have an appreciation for the old days of Hollywood, when movie deals were brokered over martinis instead of cell phones, you should definitely plan a trip here, if only to sit at the bar and nurse a cocktail while conjuring the spirit of Orson Welles. Many stories and legends surround this restaurant, which first opened its doors in 1919. My favorite being that Charlie Chaplin, Rudolph Valentino, and Douglas Fairbanks would race each other down Hollywood Boulevard on horseback from the studio to the restaurant. Whomever lost had to pick up the tab!

The waiters here are possibly as old as the wallpaper, but so long as you treat them with the respect they deserve, they'll take good care of you. And how was my classic gin martini?

I'd say a lot like the bartender...a little rough at first but as the hour went by became progressively more smoooooooth. At first sip I honestly didn't think I would be able to finish it. I surprised myself!


We capped the night off with a walk across the street for a hot dog and chili fries from another Hollywood institution, Skooby's. I love my life...

I also love this guy.

Life List #51 – Making like Yogi Bear – It’s a Picnic!

It doesn’t take any great effort to come up with reasons not to like living in Los Angeles. Traffic alone will provide several pages worth of items to gripe about. But one thing we trump all other cities on is consistently beautiful weather. Which is why I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to pack a picnic and go in search of a beautiful place to enjoy it…of which we have many in LA.

Online research for good picnic places seemed a touch uninspired. All the usual suspects were there…Hollywood Bowl, Griffith Park, Hollywood Cemetery for their movie screenings, etc. All fine places but I was looking for something, I don’t know, a little more unique. On a whim I checked out The Getty’s website to see what time they close on Saturdays. I was sold when I discovered that not only do they stay open until 9:00PM, but that parking is free after 5:00PM on Saturdays. That’s a $15 savings! And considering there is no additional fee to get into the museum, the only thing it cost us were the drinks we bought to enjoy with our picnic food.

Check out our view. Not bad. Not bad at all!

Our picnic included an Antipasto Sub, chips and fruit salad.

This was a lovely way to enjoy the evening and time with my sweetheart. I think this may have inspired me to create my own list of “Best Places in LA to Picnic.” To be continued!

Life List #94: Jen, Jen, the Bread Maker!

I finally made a sandwich style bread from scratch! While I keep reading about all these uber simple “no knead” mix it and forget about it type breads, I wanted to conquer the basic first. And I wanted to keep it healthy. So I chose the Multigrain Bread recipe from America’s Test Kitchen (as of now they still have both the recipe and the video up on their website). They used a rather clever trick of using a 7 Grain (or in my case 10 Grain because that’s all they had at the store) hot cereal mix as the bread base. That way you don’t have to throw down like $80 to buy 7 different types of flour.

Here’s what I learned:

v If you follow this recipe, it really does take at least an hour for the hot cereal to cool down enough to proceed to the next level. I highly recommend using a thermometer but if you don’t have one, definitely wait for an hour. If it’s too hot it can kill your yeast. You don’t want to kill your yeast, DO YOU???

v The hardest part about this was the waiting. Your bread dough needs to nap. A lot. I would not recommend doing this on a beautiful, sunny day as the outside world will beckon and strongly tempt you to abandon your bread project and find a field of wildflowers in which to frolic.

v This may sound strange, but if you are like me and struggle with estimating values (i.e., inches, weight, yards), I would definitely use a ruler when it comes to forming/shaping your bread loaf. I had one beautiful looking bread and one that was a little, well, squat if you will.

v Homemade bread makes the most delicious and amazing cinnamon toast. For a primer on how to make cinnamon toast the “correct” way, please consult this lady.

Book Review: The Blind Assassin

The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Suicide? Check. Secret lovers? Check. Social, political, and emotional corruption? Check. An alien society on a fictional planet…wait, what?

Yes, while the bulk of the novel involves the story of two sisters in World War I era Canada, there is also a subplot intertwined throughout the novel that involves, among other things, an alien planet. If that doesn’t make you flee for the hills, and you’re willing to suspend your assumptions and just “go with it,” I promise it’s worth it. “The Blind Assassin” is a beautiful novel about human frailty, and how with a simple word or action you can set the course of another person’s destiny…and usually not in a good way.

The actual blind assassin of “The Blind Assassin” appears in a science fiction-esque story that two anonymous lovers are crafting together. On a fictional planet that is brimming with all kinds of social corruption , a certain class of children are blinded and abused, and, oh, they weave the most remarkable carpets! But before you feel too sorry for them, their other senses evolve on near bionic levels and they soon make a niche for themselves as assassins. One such assassin is on his way to complete a job, but manages to fall in love with his target who, wait for it, has had her tongue removed so that she cannot scream while being sacrificed to one of the gods. Cheery planet! Can their love overcome the odds of escaping and surviving in such a troubled society? Depends on which lover’s ending you want to go with.

Largely, though, The Blind Assassin is a story about an old woman who is attempting to set the story of her life straight, and to hopefully right some wrongs in the process. She is portrayed as both victim and assailant in the events that unfold. And in the end, the novel is largely about accountability. Even though we are shaped by our society, our upbringing, and our overall station in life, at what point are we responsible for our actions? At what point should you stop listening to what everyone else says is “the right thing to do” and start trusting in what you believe truly is right?

This novel is hardly “breezy,” but if you are up for a challenge and love great writing, you won’t be disappointed with “The Blind Assassin.”

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Life List Number 93: Make Chicken Stock – Those sensitive to chicken parts are advised to look away

Homemade chicken stock has been on my “to do” list for quite some time. Problem is, just like any basic recipe, there are a thousand different variations and schools of thought on how to do it. Do you start out with raw or cooked chicken, for example? Whole chicken or just parts?

Frequently, I consult Ina Garden (aka “The Barefoot Contessa”) for standard recipes. But my jaw dropped when I saw that she required three whole chickens to make her chicken stock, and that the chickens would all be discarded afterwards. That’s damn expensive chicken stock!! Not to mention wasteful. Isn’t one of the essential premises of making stock to extend the life of your “scraps?” But I guess if you have the cha-ching to live in the Hamptons, then your reasons to make stock have little to do with economics.

Recently I stumbled upon a delightful little blog called “Foodie With Family,” and was instantly impressed by her post about chicken stock. She touts the value of boiling chicken parts that have bones in them not just for the flavor but for the nutrition that comes out of them. She’s also a big believer in using (shudders) chicken feet.

So on an errand day we stopped by my favorite place in Los Angeles to buy poultry, Puritan Poultry at the Original Farmer’s Market at 3^rd and Fairfax. I bought two pounds of chicken backs, but I chickend out (ha ha..get it????!) and decided to forgo using chicken feet this time around (baby steps). As for the economic part of this project I already felt miles ahead because two pounds of chicken backs cost me right under $4. That’s almost the cost of just one carton of the store bought stuff. Sweet!

I followed her recipe pretty much to the letter. I cut a few of the backs in half before I put them in the pot, which turned out to be completely unnecessary as they virtually disintegrate after cooking for four plus hours. You throw in the chicken, cover it with water and turn on the heat. After it comes to a boil you take a big spoon and skim off the, er, scum. Just for you, here’s a scum shot:

Mmmm...scum....

After you complete the de-scumming, you throw in some lovely veggies and a few peppercorns:

Then you just let it perk away on the stove for at least four hours. It may have not looked like the prettiest thing, but it definitely smelled good!

Not winning any beauty contests...

Once everything has had ample simmer time, you strain it and either put it in containers or back in a pot. Once it sits in the fridge overnight the fat will solidify and you just pop it out. And, just for you, here’s a fat shot:

I packed them up in various sized containers and tucked them in all snuggly into the freezer for future use. My first use for it was in my favorite carrot ginger soup. I forgot to defrost the stock ahead of time, but a couple minutes on defrost and a couple on full power in the microwave and it was just fine.

Overall I’m really happy with this technique. I may, just for posterity, try an added technique which involves sautéing the chicken parts for a few minutes before adding the water to give it a little more depth of flavor. In any case, what resulted was a clean, fresh tasting chicken stock that works very well in whatever you are adding it to. And the cost can’t even compare to the store. Four dollars worth of chicken backs got me the equivalent of about five of the cartons from the store. Woo hoo!

And for putting up with the chicken backs and scum and fat footage, here is the recipe for my favorite carrot ginger soup. Just for you!

CARROT GINGER SOUP

3 cups chicken stock

1 1/2 pounds carrots, peeled and chopped (about 5 cups)

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 onion, minced

salt and pepper

2 tablespoons grated fresh ginger

3/4 cup of whole milk

1/4 fresh orange juice

Bring broth and carrots to a boil, covered, in a large saucepan (this will streamline the process once you add it to everything else). In a large saucepan, melt butter over medium heat. Add onion and a little salt and cook until soft, about 3 to 5 minutes. Add the ginger and cook until "fragrant," about a minute. Carefully add in the hot broth and carrots. Simmer until the carrots are tender, about 15 to 20 minutes. In batches, puree the soup in a blender until it's nice and smooth. Return to pot and add the milk and orange juice. Simmer briefly, and then taste for salt and pepper.

Life List #20 – I made a quilt! Just don’t look too close

Perhaps one of the lessons learned in crossing things off of a life list is that not all pursuits of life-long interests are going to be a smashing success. And while I’m doing my best to reserve final judgment on my potential role as a quilter after only making one baby quilt, let’s just say this wasn’t a triumphant experience.

After having a great time at the basic sewing class at Home Ec in Silverlake, I decided to enroll in their three part beginning quilting class which involved the making of a baby quilt.

Allow me the small digression to point out the irony that economics were a large part of my interest in quilting. In theory, I should be able to make a beautiful, full size quilt at a fraction of the retail cost. But learning is apparently expensive. Given the cost of the class itself PLUS all the materials…let’s just say I easily could have purchased a new full sized quilt.

Ouchie money part aside, I proceed to gather the materials I need and prepare my fabric strips for the first day of class. This part was actually fairly easy (especially with a handy dandy rotary cutter) and kind of fun! I feel I’m off to a good start!

Class Number One: Sewing Machine from Hell, Anxiety and a Hangover

I start off on the wrong foot by overindulging in a few hefty glasses of red wine the night before and arrive to class with a naggy wine headache. Despite that I’m excited to be there and ready to start. We are instructed to lay out our pieces of fabric in a design we want the finished product to be. Easy enough. Quilting is easy! Then we are sent off to our sewing machines. This pretty much marks the end of my free ride. I’ve only taken one class and I can’t recall how to properly thread this retched machine. I anxiously await help from the instructor which sets me behind my fellow classmates. Finally, the machine gets set up and I’m back on track. I start sewing and….JAM. Argh. Remove fabric, untangle mess, try again. Sewing, sewing…JAM. This happens repeatedly. I again attempt to flag down the instructor who is busy chatting about her day job. It doesn’t help that I can’t remember her name. “Um….teacher??” I decide maybe I should rethread my machine. Again…setting me behind and making me nervous (which is agitating the wine headache). Rethreading works and I complete my first sewing task.

Our next step induces such anxiety that it literally makes my hands shake. We are supposed to cut our fabric pieces to an exact length and width. Which sounds easy enough until suddenly you are faced with rulers and lines and flashbacks of high school geometry (which I definitely did not excel in) and all you can think is OMG WHAT IF I CUT IT WRONG AND RUIN IT??? At this point I start to think maybe quilting isn’t for me. I thought this was supposed to be a relaxing experience? I cut the strips to the best of my ability, am sent back to the evil machine to sew the strips together, and mercifully, our first class comes to an end. I go home. Drink more wine.

Class Number Two: Survival and Success!

I approach the second class in sheer survival mode. I do something that isn’t very nice…I sit at a different machine. While everyone else is gravitating back to their spots from the previous class, one poor girl is forced to sit at the evil machine because I got there first. But did I have jamming problems? Nope. Not once. I spent the remainder of class avidly avoiding eye contact every time I heard her machine sputter and cough.

Our second class is all about quilting! We sandwich the top of the quilt to the back with the batting inside, and smother it with pins to keep it in place. Then away we go! This is what I was most looking forward to. The whir of the machine, the fabric moving beneath my hands, and line by line the pieces of fabric magically turning into a quilt! My confidence restored, I stop short a few inches once our time runs out but our instructor assures us that we can finish the quilting part the final week. We have lots of time! Phew…maybe I’m not the Quilt FAIL I was worried I would be.

Class Number Three: Disappointment

I arrive at the final class feeling good about my work and excited to walk out later with a fully completed quilt. My first setback comes when the instructor looks at my piece and says “Oh, you need to finish quilting? Um, OK…” But Stupid Lady you said we could finish this week!!!! Aw, hell. Now I’m feeling rushed. About a half hour later I finish and…DRAMATIC THUNDEROUS MUSIC…we have to cut. AGAIN. Lord help me. If I had anxiety with cutting the pieces imagine now the anxiety of cutting a fully quilted….quilt. My shakes return. I cut as instructed but my inferior geometry skills have slightly reduced the intended size of my piece. Oh, well. I repeatedly remind myself that this is my first quilt ever, so maybe I should go easy on myself.

Finally we reach the last part of the quilting process: the binding. And, I am not kidding, but the use of a calculator was required in this step. Did I miss something? Should I have taken a refresher math class before attempting to quilt?? Apparently math is needed in order to equate exactly the length and width you should cut your binding pieces. OK. I compute, I cut, I iron, I bind. But something is amiss. Even the teacher is confused when I bring it to her. When I cut my binding pieces I had two strips of the right size and then the leftover fabric. Any guesses as to what I sewed onto my quilt? Uh huh…one correct size and one friggin’ scrap. So my only option was to rip out the scrap and sew on the correct piece. I’m miles behind everyone else and at this point I just can’t wait for it to be over. Binding is sewn on and now I’m told that the quilt has to be finished by hand. Basically, the binding is machine sewn around all the edges of the quilt and then you pull it back with your fingers and hand sew it into place. AT HOME. I leave class with mixed feelings and an unfinished quilt. Boo.

Two Months later: Finished yet Flawed

After mostly ignoring the quilt for a few months, I finally finish it! And, in the process, discover a multitude of additional mistakes. One of them being that I hadn’t quilted far enough up on a few spots so the quilting ends before it reaches the binding. And one part of my binding didn’t get quite sewn on all the way. None of this is detrimental. But I can’t help feeling like I didn’t get a solid educational experience from… “Teacher” (I still can’t remember her name). She repeatedly joked that she was what the quilting community refers to as a “Lazy Quilter,” which is funny and cute when you’re messing about but when I take home a quilt full of mistakes it makes me kind of mad.

So, will I ever quilt again? I honestly don’t know. I guess I took away enough of the basics to fiddle with it later if and when the next crafty mood strikes.

But in the mean time, check out my cute little TV cozy: