How Big Is Your Rowboat?

Another day quietly begins on the St. Lawrence.
I was usually up in the mornings by five o'clock while on vacation, but one morning I was wide awake at four. I tried to get back to sleep, but I gave up at 4:20 and got out of bed. I started a pot of coffee, and got the ingredients out to make a coffee cake. A friend gave me this recipe, and I like it for its old-fashioned taste. It is quite plain, no bells or whistles, but that's what makes it so good. I enjoyed being in the kitchen before the sun was up, baking a homemade treat while my companions slumbered. This cake is easy to make, and it was still warm from the oven when they wandered out of their bedrooms, looking for coffee.

Swiss Coffee Cake
¾ cup butter
1-1/2 cup sugar
2 cups flour
2 tsp baking powder
2 eggs, beaten
½ cup milk
1 tsp vanilla

Cream butter & sugar. Add flour & baking powder – crumble together with hands like you would pie dough.
Take out 1 cup of crumbs and set aside for top.
Now add eggs, milk & vanilla.
Place batter in a lightly greased 11x7 pan. Top with crumbs.
Bake at 350 about 30 minutes.

Once everyone was coffeed & caked, scrubbed & dressed, we drove to the village of Clayton. On the way into town, we stopped and made Robespierre pose beside Paul Bunyan's golf bag. Robespierre is a good head taller than the rest of us, so we don't get to see him looking short very often.

The land around Clayton was originally held by the Algonquins, but then the Iroquois told them to get out. Then the white man came along, and we all know how that turned out. Clayton experienced boom times with the installation of a railroad line in 1873. During this era, the concept of vacationing became popular and accessible to the middle-class, not just the wealthy. Tourists came from the cities, and many hotels were built in Clayton to accommodate them and lighten their wallets.

Clayton was the northern-most point on the New York Central Railroad, and during July & August over 30 trains per day arrived & departed Clayton. Tourists either stayed in town, or boarded steamships for other points along the St. Lawrence River.

Clayton argues with nearby Alexandria Bay over which town is the true birthplace of that condiment we all know so well - Thousand Island dressing.

We spent some time shopping along Riverside Drive, and bought hot dogs from a stand to eat alongside the river. Then Sadie bought us all tickets to the Antique Boat Museum, which was a first-class operation. Thank you, Sadie! The museum was a vacation highlight, and I recommend a visit to anyone who travels to the area.

Museum tickets include a guided tour of George Boldt's houseboat, La Duchesse, built for him in 1903. Cameras were allowed, so I have a bunch of pictures to show you.

La Duchesse
After George Boldt died, the houseboat was purchased by Edward John Noble, a candy industrialist who popularized Life Savers candies and was the founder of ABC, the American Broadcasting Company. You need a lot of money to float a boat like La Duchesse.

The galley was updated after the boat was sold by George Boldt's estate. It was large and efficiently laid out. Robespierre is walking through the butler's pantry, which is about the size of my kitchen.
However, keeping La Duchesse afloat proved problematic, no matter how much money was available. You also need reliable plumbing. In 1943, a pipe burst under a bathroom and flooded the hull, sinking the vessel up to the top of the first deck. When the houseboat sank, it rested on two submerged pilings which pierced the wooden hull.

(In AA, we call these "high-class problems")

This working brass fireplace is decorated with starfish and mythical dolphins. There is another working fireplace of green marble in the grand salon on the upper deck.
The hull was patched, and the boat refloated. It was purchased by one of the many Andrews McNally of the Rand McNally publishing dynasty, who had it towed to his summer home. The McNallys used La Duchesse as a party boat for entertaining. Their summer place is across the river from Sadie's property, and she remembers seeing the houseboat docked across the river when she was growing up.

Guest cabin
The interior of the boat is finely crafted, and features Honduran mahogany for its beauty & durability. Mahogany was prized for boat construction prior to steel because mahogany does not rot in water like many other woods. The original hull of the boat used this wood, but the hull was replaced with steel in 1958.

There were plenty of bathrooms on board!
La Duchesse was constructed to serve as a residence, a true house boat, as well as a place to entertain guests. It was never self-propelled, and was towed to its desired locations. George Boldt lived on it at times during the summers he was building Boldt Castle. Andrew McNally used it for entertaining, and for overflow guest space. Speaking of overflow, I wonder if the bath water sloshed out of these tubs if a passing boat created a large wake?

Another cabin for an overnight guest.

Yet another cabin on the first deck. This boat had more guest space than most homes. There were six cabins on the first deck. Also, two servants' cabins and bath across from the galley.

The master bath on the upper deck. I love the nautical-theme hamper. Note the bathmat with the La Duchesse logo.

George Boldt's study.

The owner's sitting room on the upper deck.

A nook for a piano or small band for party music.

The promenade deck, above & below. This deck and the adjoining grand salon were the only parts of the boat that many party guests saw (or remembered).

La Duchesse was just one exhibit of many at the Antique Boat Museum. Whether you are an avid boater or a landlubber like me, there were many things of interest to see and experience.

Sadie poses on a climb-aboard exhibit.

Sheldon in the galley, thinking of what he can whip up for dinner.
This was in an old boat-of-some-type-I-cannot-remember that was used for fishing in its former life. Schooner? Trawler? Sampan? Ocean liner? It's a foreign language to me, but I appreciate the craftsmanship.

Sadie, about to be attacked by a killer whale in downtown Clayton.

We close today's post with a picture of Sadie & Sheldon, Couple of the Year.
The next post should finish up my Thousand Islands adventure series. We'll take a boat ride up & down the river, checking out more scenery and peering at people's houses. See you next time!

Where Have I Been?

The year has flown by on winged feet, hasn't it? I decorated the office for Christmas earlier this week with a little silver tree with blue ornaments atop a bookcase, and a Santa and a red & green basket filled with chocolate candies on my desk. I already need to buy more candy; the people who drop in have been like vultures.

Friday night, after work, I went out to dinner with a buddy, and snapped the top photo of a porch in the Fan District. I'll be taking more pictures for you as more homes are decorated for the holidays. Many of the houses on Monument Avenue put on lavish displays, and I'm waiting for the illumination of the Christmas Cadillac.

I know that Christmas comes at a predictable time each year, but why do I always feel caught off guard? There's always too much to do in too little time. I enjoy the holidays, though, and I can certainly admire how my mother always seemed to have everything running according to schedule. She sent out boxes of Christmas cards, wrapped & packaged gifts and took them to the post office to mail to distant friends & relatives in time for Christmas delivery, and filled the cupboards with homemade goodies for guests. I remember the feeling of good cheer when people would drop in for a holiday visit. Christmas was a wonderful time of year in my childhood home. Here's a really easy recipe that my mom used to make, in addition to the cakes, pies, fudge, cookies & bars. These are so simple a child could make them, and they are quite tasty.

Butterscotch Crunchies
5 cups cornflakes
2 small packages butterscotch chips
3 tablespoons peanut butter
Melt butterscotch chips and peanut butter in a double-boiler until smooth. Place cornflakes in a large mixing bowl. Pour butterscotch mixture over cornflakes, and fold in carefully to coat thoroughly. Drop by spoonfuls onto wax paper. Allow to cool & set until firm.

This post, however, is more about autumn photographs, before it gets too late to share them with you. You will see the transition from early to late fall in the pictures. In October I traveled to Roanoke to attend an AA state assembly. Roanoke is three hours from Richmond by car, and it was the first time I've been back there since I got sober. I used to have extended business trips there, sometimes being there for months on an assignment. Boy, did I drink a lot out of loneliness and boredom in those days. I wasn't ready yet for sobriety, but I could have been meeting people & making new friends. This time I was in the midst of hundreds of people like me who enjoy the fun of a sober life.

I took the smaller highways, and the picture below was taken in the small town of Buckingham. The town was established in 1818, and the original courthouse was designed by Thomas Jefferson, but it burned down in 1869. Buckingham is home to Yogaville, where many of my friends have gone for retreats. I'm not sure what the building in the photo was before it was left to the elements, but I've been looking at it for years while passing through the small village, and wondering what it was.

(Possibly the Whately Mill from The Shuttered Room?)

My route took me through Appomattox, where Lee surrendered to Grant. Most people assume that this was the official end of the Civil War, but it was not. It was certainly the nail in the coffin, however, and effectively determined the outcome of the war. When I was little, my parents & I took an overnight trip to tour the historic park, and we stayed at the motel pictured below. It looks pretty much the same as it did in the 1960's.


Here's an old country store & service station, which now sits empty at Mount Rush. By the way, the abandoned building is Mount Rush, because there's nothing else at this crossroads other than a house or two. This could be the business opportunity you have been waiting for.


Here's what I'm talking about. You can use the example below as your business model. On Route 60, on the outskirts of Buckingham, I found an old gas station that has been painted pink and turned into a massage parlor. I didn't have time to stop to inspect the interior, but it probably looks fabulous. I'm all about adaptive re-use.



Below is an example of the pleasant countryside. I'm so much happier when I am traveling on the forgotten highways. Interstate highways are fine if I absolutely have to travel as fast as possible, but I prefer the interesting sights that can only be seen when you travel the old roads.


Before it was time to put her boat to bed for the winter, Sadie took me out for an end-of-season cruise. We left around twilight, and it was a pleasant, slow ride. Darkness came swiftly, so there were not any opportunities for a shutterbug, but I did get an okay shot from the water of the Boathouse Restaurant glittering at night. Several of us have enjoyed their Sunday brunch, and the view of the James River as we dined.


One evening after work, I met my friend Linus at a nearby Starbucks for coffee & conversation. Linus recently had back surgery, so he's out & about in his neighborhood taking walks to aid his recovery. One advantage of a slow walk is being able to enjoy sights that are easily missed from a moving car. Linus urged me to take some daytime pictures of a beautiful little maple tree on Grove Avenue at the peak of its fall splendor, so I dashed by there the next day. I wasn't one bit disappointed.




I've been admiring a 1961 Chrysler that sits in a parking lot on the side of Church Hill, so I stopped to take a few shots one Sunday.
Ah, the exuberance of fins!



This '61 model has a friendly, slightly zany expression. The 1960 Chryslers looked bellicose.


This isn't the clearest picture because of the glare, but I can't resist an old dashboard. You can't see it from this angle, but this car featured the "pushbutton" transmission.


Morris & I decided to go on a ride one Saturday afternoon, and after some indecision about the direction to take, ended up driving south and then east. This put us in Hopewell, which is a tired little industrial town at the convergence of the Appomattox & James Rivers.

There is one section of Hopewell that neither one of us had visited called City Point. It was quite pretty and somnolent. We went on Thanksgiving weekend, so I figured that everyone was inside taking naps. We parked near old Appomattox Manor, and it was hard to believe that this silent & still setting was, briefly, one of the busiest ports in the world.

The rivers meet at City Point



Boy, if these walls could talk! Appomattox Manor remained in the same family from 1635 until 1979. Benedict Arnold led his British troops across the plantation during the American Revolution, and the property was used by General Grant as his headquarters during the Siege of Petersburg during the Civil War. Abraham Lincoln vacationed here just a few weeks before his death. At the time of the Civil War, Appomattox Manor was a 2300 acre James River plantation.

Federal forces recognized the strategic value of this point that watched the two rivers. An enormous supply depot & railroad facilities, and a huge hospital were built here, and the resulting port was the busiest in the world during the Petersburg siege. The capture of Petersburg and its railroads led to Lee's surrender about a week later.

When the Eppes family returned at war's end, the house was in shambles and the plantation was all but destroyed. Somehow, the family was able to prevail and rebuild.

A quaint & curious little building on City Point.
Town Hall? Schoolhouse? Quaker Meeting House?
There was no plaque to inform us.

Our last photograph shows an old house on the outskirts of downtown Claremont. When we left City Point, I asked Morris if he had ever been to Claremont. He replied that he had not ever been to Claremont. I asked him if he had ever heard of Claremont. He allowed that he had never heard of Claremont. So we went to Claremont.
Claremont has a population of 343.

Claremont is a town that seems forgotten, almost like one of the Miskatonic hamlets in an H.P. Lovecraft story. You have to turn off a two-lane road, and travel several lonely miles up a road that dead-ends at Claremont. Clearly, the town experienced a period of commercial activity, and anticipated more prosperity than ever arrived. There is a tiny traffic roundabout, and a couple of rows of dilapidated vacant storefronts. There is at least one structure that may have been a hotel. A church or two. All have a forlorn look, as if the parade came and went, and they have given up on its return.

A Bowl of Cherries

It's been awhile since I have written on this blog, and my handful of readers is getting impatient with me. Truthfully, I have been feeling a bit glum. A few weeks ago, my beloved sponsor was diagnosed with inoperable brain cancer, and I have been sad & fearful. There are life events we cannot influence, and this is one of them.

After three weeks in the hospital, he is at home. Even so, he has had to make daily trips to the hospital for radiation treatments. He is bedridden, requires a lot of care, and has been unable to have visitors because his immune system is compromised. Nevertheless, I have been able to speak to him by phone, and his spirituality shines brighter than ever.

I went through about a week of anger, realizing that it was really the manifesation of fear. I had to struggle for acceptance, finally coming to the conclusion that I didn't have to like something to accept it. My Higher Power doesn't get perturbed when I get angry with his plans, and allows me the time that I need to come to full acceptance. I don't guess any of us enjoys knowing that a loved one is going through a difficult time.

For the next couple of weeks, my sponsor will be able to rest at home without going in for radiation treatments. He would like for me to visit him, and I will do that if he feels well enough. When we talked yesterday, he asked me to tell everyone in our home group that he misses them and keeps each of them in his daily prayers. He is with us in his mind each morning at 6:45, our regular meeting time, and he goes around our circle, picturing each of us in our seats. He asked me to tell everyone how much he loves them.

Earlier today, a man was in my office from a town 80 miles southwest of Richmond. His wife is in the final stages of brain cancer, and in MCV Hospital. It sounds like his wife's brain lights up with a thousand points of malignancy when test results are read. All she wants is to be taken back home. "Sometimes doing the next right thing is the hardest thing in the world to do," this man said to me. With these situations, we pray that our decisions are free of self-seeking motives. This man faces a difficult choice. I remember the regret that my mother felt after my father begged her to take him back home, because he spent months in ICU and died anyway.

I got a message from my pal Tracey a few days ago. She was downloading music, and one of her finds was Lynn Anderson's "(I Never Promised You a) Rose Garden." Well, I can't argue with that. Expecting life, mine or yours, to run according to my plans is sheer folly. Also, things would be pretty boring for all of us if I were Manager of the Universe. Like it or don't, life is not a bowl of cherries. Feeling sad won't kill me.

Speaking of a bowl of cherries, last night Sherry & I bought three pounds of fresh cherries, and made two cherry cobblers to take to our morning meeting. I have named Sheldon the Cobbler King, because he makes a basic & simple fruit cobbler recipe that is superb. Sheldon's workplace just cut back everyone's hours, so I took him a chocolate pie yesterday to cheer him up. While I was there, I got the recipe for his cobbler. Here it is, in case you'd like to try it.


Sheldon's Fruit Cobbler

2 cups of fresh fruit (so far we've tried peaches, blackberries, mulberries, peach & blueberry mixed, and cherries)
1 stick of butter (real butter is strongly suggested)
¾ cup flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
¾ cup milk
1½ cups sugar
cinnamon (optional)

Preheat oven to 350°. In a medium bowl, toss your fresh fruit with ½ cup of the sugar. In another medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and remaining sugar. If you want to use cinnamon, whisk it in, too. Pour the milk into the dry ingredients, and whisk until thoroughly combined to make your batter.

Melt the stick of butter in a baking pan in your preheated oven. Sheldon uses a 9x13, but you can use a slightly smaller pan if you want. You can melt the butter while you work on the dry ingredients if you don't dilly-dally, but be careful because you just want the butter to melt, not brown.

Remove the pan from the oven when your butter has melted, pour the batter in the pan, do not stir. We kinda pour the batter evenly across the pan so that it doesn't all land in the center. Top with the fruit of your choice, and bake for 20-25 minutes, or until the batter is golden and the center looks done. While in the oven, the batter will rise and your fruit will sink to the bottom. You can ponder that amazing process or reorganize your canned goods while your cobbler bakes. Or you can dash to the store for vanilla ice cream or whipped cream if you drive fast.

The recipe calls for two cups of fresh fruit, but we always use more. This is not an exact recipe where every ingredient has to be precisely measured. You can add more fruit or mix & match. Try different spices or none at all. I'd stick pretty close to the measurement on baking powder, because it gives your cobbler leavening, not flavor, and be sure you always use baking powder that is within the expiration date or you will have a naan-riser.

Sherry & I had fun baking the cobblers. We had a good conversation about the oddities of life as we pitted the cherries. If you have a large-bore, sturdy drinking straw, pitting cherries is a breeze, by the way. Just shove the straw through the stem-end of the cherry, and the pit will pop right out the other end. Easy as pie.

This morning I was truly grateful that I not only had the desire to be with my home group, I also had the ability to be present. It is easy to take good health for granted, and I should remember how fragile I was a couple of years ago. I was given a second chance, and I enjoy life even more when I make the decision to approach each new day with gratitude.

Cold Weather = Baking

Baby, it's cold outside. Last night when I scampered to the grocery store for Half & Half (must have that for my coffee) it was snowing. Today I stayed inside at home, relaxing, and catching up on laundry. Reading about Amy in New Zealand enjoying a hot day at the seaside made me want to avoid going outside on a cold, windy day like today.

I think I just had a narrow escape from several hundred unwelcome roommates. This may sound familiar to any of you who were reading this blog last year. Several weeks ago, before the first hard frost hit, I moved my ficus tree back indoors. It's been dropping leaves, its usual behavior when I move it back inside, so I started picking off the leaves that were turning yellow. There, hidden in the foliage, cleverly disguised as wood, was another little package. I quickly clipped it loose and threw it outside. I don't want to relive last year's horror. Maybe they're still dormant, and they'll start appearing next spring. Outdoors. Where they belong. I've been putting my little tree out on my deck for years in the summer, and last December was the only time I ran into trouble when I brought it back inside. Danged if they didn't try it again this year.

This weekend I did a little baking. Staying warm & cozy during cold weather makes me think of baking, so I'll share a few recipes. I modified the first one using a recipe I found on the web last year. The cranberries stay bright red, which looks cheery and Yuletidey.

Orange-Cranberry Bread
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup granulated sugar
1-½ teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ cup cold butter
1 egg
¾ cup orange juice¹
1 tablespoon grated orange zest¹
1 teaspoon orange extract (optional)
1-½ cups fresh cranberries
½ cup chopped walnuts (optional)
I don't even use the electric mixer to make this, so you really don't need special equipment. Throw the sugar in a large mixing bowl, sift in the flour, baking powder, salt & soda. Cut in the cold butter; I simply used a knife to do this. Just keep cutting it in until there aren't any large butter pieces.
Add the egg, and mix. It will be dry. Add the cranberries and toss. Add the orange juice and grated orange zest. Add the orange extract if desired. Fold in the nuts if you want them.
Preheat your oven to 325° while you grease & flour a loaf pan. You can also sprinkle additional sugar on top of the batter after you put it in the loaf pan if you want your bread to have a sparkly look. Bake for 50-60 minutes, or until the bread tests done in the center. Your baking time will depend on the type of pan you use, and the idiosyncracies of your oven. Cool loaf before removing from the pan.

You can do this next one by hand or with a modern mixer; your choice. This recipe makes two loaves; one for you, and one for the dog. Or your neighbor.

Date-Cherry Bread
1-½ cups chopped, pitted dates
2-¼ cups boiling water
3 teaspoons baking soda
1 cup chopped nuts
1 cup dried cherries
¾ cup granulated sugar
¾ cup brown sugar
4 tablespoons butter, softened
2 eggs
1 teaspoon salt
4-½ cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon vanilla
Put the dates in the hot water. Add the baking soda. Soak for 30 minutes. If you are a bad person, the mixture will foam up when you add the baking soda. Actually, it will foam up anyway. You can pretend that you're a mad scientist. Do not drain the dates! You will use the dates + liquid in the batter.
Cream the butter and sugars. Beat in the eggs thoroughly. Add the salt, vanilla, and the foam-rimed you're-a-bad-person mixture, and mix well. Toss the nuts with the flour, and gently mix the dry ingredients into the date mixture. Evenly divide the batter between your greased & floured loaf pans. Bake @ 300° for 60 minutes, or until each loaf tests done in the center. Cool before removing from pans.

Okay, the last recipe I'll share today is one that I got from Sheldon. He's a good cook. This is a good old-fashioned spoonbread, and it's great comfort food. It's easy to make, and it goes well with pork. Sometimes I nuke the leftovers, add some butter, and have it for lunch.

Sheldon's Spoonbread
1 cup self-rising cornmeal²
2 cups scalded milk (I use the microwave)
2 eggs, beaten
½ cup sugar
Mix and bake in a greased baking dish @ 400° for about 30-35 minutes. That's all there is to it! I use a whisk when I mix the batter to get the lumps out. You can omit or reduce the sugar, but it sure is good sweet.

I'm satisfied if the finished product is edible, and comes out of the pan. But take a look at the incredible cakes that someone in St. Petersburg (Russia, not Florida) has made. Click here for the photos.

¹ If the fresh oranges at the market look sad, you'll be fine with storebought juice, and grated orange peel from the spice aisle. I use Penzey's grated orange peel if a fresh orange isn't handy.
² You can make your own self-rising cornmeal right at home! 1 cup cornmeal, 3 tablespoons flour, 1 tablespoon baking powder, ½ teaspoon salt.

Mulberry Meatloaf & 1976 Holidays

Let's start with the 1976 Holidays before we talk about that meatloaf. In researching the previous post, I noticed that my mom's 1976 Dailyaide Diary (The Silent Secretary©) thoughtfully lists the upcoming holidays at the beginning of each month, so that diarists are never caught unawares. Here's a list of each month's notable holidays. Some are familiar, and some, well, aren't.


January
Thursday, Jan. 1 - New Year's Day (so far, so good)
Tuesday, Jan. 6 - Epiphany
Thursday, Jan. 15 - Martin Luther King's birthday
Saturday, Jan. 17 - Benjamin Franklin's birthday
Monday, Jan. 19 - Robert E. Lee's birthday

February
Monday, Feb. 2 - Groundhog Day
Thursday, Feb. 12 - Lincoln's birthday
Saturday, Feb. 14 - Valentine's Day
Monday, Feb 16. - Washington's birthday

March
Tuesday, Mar. 2 - Mardi Gras
Wednesday, Mar. 3 - Lent begins
Wednesday, Mar. 17 - St. Patrick's Day
Saturday, Mar. 20 - Spring begins
Friday, Mar. 26 - Kuhio Day, Hawaii
Tuesday, Mar. 30 - Seward Day, Alaska

April
Sunday, Apr. 11 - Palm Sunday
Thursday, Apr. 15 - Passover begins
Friday, Apr. 16 - Good Friday
Sunday, Apr. 18 - Easter
Thursday, Apr. 22 - Arbor Day

May
Saturday, May 1 - May Day
Sunday, May 9 - Mother's Day
Monday, May 10 - Confederate Memorial Day
Saturday, May 15 - Armed Forces day
Monday, May 31 - Memorial Day

June
Thursday, June 3 - Jefferson Davis' birthday
Friday, June 11 - Kamehameha Day, Hawaii
Monday, June 14 - Flag Day (I might as well leave mine up)
Sunday, June 20 - Father's day
Sunday, June 20 - West Virginia Day
Monday, June 21 - Summer begins

July
Thursday, July 1 - Dominion Day, Canada
Sunday, July 4 - Independence Day
Tuesday, July 13 - Nathan B. Forrest's birthday (Holy Crap! White sheet & hood, anyone?)
Saturday, July 24 - Pioneer Day, Utah

August
Wednesday, Aug. 4 - Colorado Day
Saturday, Aug. 14 - V-J Anniversary
Sunday, Aug. 15 - Admission Day, Hawaii (does this state seem to be hogging the holidays?)
Monday, Aug. 16 - Bennington Battle Day

September
Monday, Sept. 6 - Labor Day
Friday, Sept. 17 - Citizenship Day
Wednesday, Sept. 22 - Autumn begins
Saturday, Sept. 25 - Rosh Hashanah
Monday, Sept. 26 - American Indian Day (no longer popular, I guess)

October
Monday, Oct. 4 - Yom Kippur
Monday, Oct. 11 - Columbus day
Wednesday, Oct. 20 - Alaska Day
Monday, Oct. 25 - Veteran's Day
Sunday, Oct. 31 - Halloween

November
Monday, Nov. 1 - All Saints Day
Tuesday, Nov. 2 - Election Day
Friday, Nov. 12 - Elizabeth Cody Stanton's birthday
Thursday, Nov. 25 - Thanksgiving
Sunday, Nov. 28 - First Sunday of Advent

December
Wednesday, Dec. 15 - Bill of Rights Day
Friday, Dec. 17 - Wright Brothers Day
Tuesday, Dec. 21 - Winter begins
Saturday, Dec. 25 - Christmas

Now you can plan accordingly, at least for the remainder of the year. I think it is interesting that a few of these holidays have dropped off the calendar. I also found it astounding that a holiday was still noted in 1976 for the founder of the Ku Klux Klan - or ever, for that matter.

Thursday, on my way home from my dawn meeting, I talked with my buddy, Sheldon. He had just returned home from a walk, and was excited about finding a mulberry tree growing wild. I swung by his place, and we picked mulberries, which I had never eaten before. You should always pick mulberries in the nude, or in dark clothing. The stain factor of mulberries is off the charts. They would cause Lady Macbeth great unhappiness.

We picked quite a few of them, and I brought them home. They look a lot like blackberries in size and color, but are more elongated than round (sort of like miniature grape clusters). They have a sweet flavor, and when you pick them the stem comes off the tree along with the berry. This morning I made Mulberry Muffins. I made up the recipe, but they turned out pretty well.

Mulberry Muffins
¾ cup all-purpose flour
¾ cup whole wheat flour
¾ cup wheat bran
2 tablespoons ground flax seed
1/3 cup brown sugar, packed
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
1 egg
¼ cup molasses
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup buttermilk
1 cup mulberries
Combine white flour, whole wheat flour, wheat bran, flax seed, brown sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and cloves in a large mixing bowl. I always sift the flours, spices, and salt through a plain old screen-style strainer. I have a handled sifter, but it's too aggravating and hard to clean. My point is, you can probably make do with whatever you have when it comes to cooking. Feel free to improvise. Your grandmother didn't sit around waiting for the food processor to be invented.
In a smaller bowl, beat the egg slightly. Add the molasses, vanilla, and buttermilk. Stir thoroughly to combine.
I didn't find many mulberry recipes on the Internet, but I did read that you can just leave the stems on the mulberries when you bake with them. If you want to do that, it's fine. OCD-Bill could not do this. I had just bought a new pair of nail clippers earlier this week as a spare pair (coincidence? probably not!), so I washed and used them since I hadn't used them on my grubby ol' fingernails. Now I have a new kitchen tool, but I still need a spare pair for my nails. The clippers worked great for snipping the stems off the mulberries.
Toss the mulberries in the flour mixture in the large bowl. Dump the buttermilk mixture in all at once, and stir just until moistened. The more you mix, the tougher your muffins will turn out. It's a gluten thing.
I use paper cupcake liners, but if you don't, be sure you grease the muffin tin cups. Fill each cup about ¾ full. Bake at 375º for 17-20 minutes, or until the muffins test done.

Some of you are still wondering where the meatloaf comes in. Those of you who know me well are familiar with my love of spicy-hot food. The other day I made a meatloaf that pleased me greatly, but most of you wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. Yes, it is very hot. Another exclusive Planet Bll recipe that I will include below just for fun.

Afterburner Meatloaf
1-½ lbs. ground beef
1 medium onion, chopped
½ stack saltine crackers, crushed
1 egg, beaten
1 can Ro-tel Hot tomatoes with green chiles
2 fresh Habanero peppers, seeds & membrane removed, finely chopped
¼ to ½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
A few shakes of garlic powder
1 or 2 dashes of cinnamon
Get out a large mixing bowl, and get your ingredients prepared. Wash your hands thoroughly! Now it's time to have fun. Toss everything in the bowl. Mix & squish it all together by hand. I use one hand for mixing, and keep the other one clean and free for grabbing stuff. When you've mixed it all thoroughly, form it into a cohesive ball. You can either place it on an edged pizza pan or a baking pan in a rounded mound like a rustic loaf of bread, or you can place it in a loaf pan. Bake at 350º for one hour or until done.

Of course, the (sensibly) faint-hearted can adapt this recipe for sensitive palates, but the basic assembly is the same. You can throw a meatloaf together in two shakes of a lamb's tail, and scoff at the "comfort food" restaurants that currently charge a hat & an ass for food like Grandma cooked. The leftovers make fabulous sammiches.

I did have a bad experience once with a stuffed deep-fried jalapeno appetizer. Jalapenos are not usually very hot at all. The restaurant didn't remove the seeds from the pepper. I think the peppers were grown in chicken manure, too, which I've heard raises the Scoville units. I thought my mouth was on fire, but it was nothing compared to my trip to the bathroom at 3 a.m. I truly had tears running from my eyes as I sat on the throne, rocking back & forth, clutching my stomach, and drumming my heels on the floor. It felt like a pixie in the porcelain bowl was holding a lit match to my bottom.

But I still love that hot, spicy food. And, yes, I did fall on my head when I was a baby.

Kinda Flaky

Thank God it's raining. I just needed to get that out of the way. I love spring, but the pine pollen has been fierce. One day is all it takes to coat everything with a lime-yellowish, gritty mantle.

My mother made the lightest, flakiest pie crusts I have ever put in my mouth. I'm reminded of this as I transcribe her 1960's diaries. She frequently rolls out a pie crust, either for the freezer or for a pie to have handy for drop-in company. We had a bunch of fruit trees and a large grape arbor, and Mom could step out the back door for many of the ingredients she needed for desserts and jellies. I've never tasted a better apple pie than hers, but she was known for her pecan pies - my favorite as a child.

My mother, equipped with a constantly whispering inferiority complex, was afraid that her baked goods wouldn't be fit to eat, but I never heard any complaints. Our family friend, William Worsley, came from a North Carolina family that owned a huge peanut farm. It had been in his family for generations, and it was what the Kennedys would call a compound, with several Worsleys building their homes on the property. William's older spinster sister lived in the original "Big House" on the old farm. Each year the family would host two pig-pickin's, one in the spring and another in the fall. They hosted hundreds of people, and my parents were among the privileged few who were invited to stay on the property. The price of admission was two of my mother's pecan pies.

Crusts are tricky things for a novice baker like me. I remember encountering a problem crust a few years back, and the thought of it has given me baker's block when it comes to attempting a homemade pie crust. A few years back a friend made a pie crust that still haunts my memories.

Several friends and I decided it would be fun to do communal lunches a long time ago. One friend brought a homemade peach pie. It was breathtakingly beautiful, at least to a pie-lover like me. I couldn't wait to get my mitts on it. The edges of the crust were carefully fluted, and golden brown. The baker had arduously created a twisted lattice top crust, and the peaches peeked promisingly from beneath. The pie looked like a work of art, but it should have remained behind glass.

I knew I was in trouble when the pretty latticework would not yield to my fork. At all. A final, desperate effort broke through, and sent a shard of crust flying at least a dozen feet into some shrubbery. Luckily we were eating outside; no one noticed and no retrieval was necessary. The hand of God sent that projectile into some concealing bushes instead of someone's eye, as far as I'm concerned.

For me, a good crust makes or breaks a good pie. I've heard that a wise baker knows just when to stop working the dough, lest it turn deadly. My impression is that it takes a keen eye, a deft hand, and the experience to know when the dough "feels" right to the fingers. I tell myself that my limited counter space prevents me from rolling out my own pie crust, but I know it's simply fear of creating cement out of flour and shortening.

That's why I still use the refrigerated crusts that come rolled up in a plastic sleeve. In my opinion, they are better than the frozen crusts in an aluminum tin, but one day I hope to master the skill of making my own pie crusts. If any of you have any tips or recipes, feel free to share your ideas. You can send me an e-mail if you like.

Anyway, I'm going to share a recipe that I found on allrecipes. I tweaked it a bit with extra flour, but I love this pie because it is easy-as-pie (whatever in the hell that means), and quick to throw together. It's never failed. I've also discovered that you can line the crust with a layer of fresh blueberries or sliced strawberries if you have them on hand before you pour in the filling. If you use strawberries, add a little more flour to the pie filling (it prevents "weeping"). This is a tasty slice of old-fashioned goodness.

Buttermilk Pie
½ cup butter, softened
1-½ cups granulated sugar
3 tablespoons flour
3 eggs
1 cup buttermilk
1 teaspoon vanilla
ground nutmeg
1 single-layer unbaked pie crust
Cream the butter and sugar. Add flour and mix well. Add eggs, one at a time. Add vanilla and buttermilk. The mixture will look curdled; don't get your panties in a wad. Pour into pie shell. Sprinkle with nutmeg to taste. Wrap aluminum foil around the edge of the crust to prevent over-browning. Bake @ 350° for one hour. Cool on rack. Store in refrigerator.

p.s. The image of the buttermilk pie at the top is from the Stubb's BBQ site. They will happily send you a frozen buttermilk pie for only $35.99 if you'd rather not make your own. I'm not sure if that includes shipping.

Cold Duck Memories & Coconut-Cranberry Cake

I made a visit to my friend Suzanne's blog, and enjoyed some pictures of her New Year's Eve festivities in Amsterdam. I was surprised that, although they live in an urban setting, they are allowed to purchase fireworks for home use. In my county in Virginia, if I lit anything more incendiary than a sparkler I'd have Homeland Security hammering on my door. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if even sparklers are illegal where I live. I played with a lot of sparklers when I was a kid. The last time I held one was when my friend Brenda rented a beach cottage on the Outer Banks, and her young daughter Emily, our friend Jean, and I ran around the pool with sparklers one night.


My New Year's Eve was spent in my usual style. I was curled up in the arms of Morpheus when 2008 arrived. I'd probably been asleep long enough to be in the REM phase of slumber, because I didn't hear a thing, and I'm sure someone around here set off some firecrackers. Staying up late just doesn't hold the appeal it did when I was little.


I remember being allowed to stay up late to welcome the New Year when I was a kid, and it seemed magical to be awake at midnight. Midnight was the hour never seen by children, the Mystery Hour when anything could happen! My parents weren't party-people, so we'd be at home with some neighbors, and as the moment grew close we'd all chant the countdown together. They probably had champagne on some of those nights, but what I remember is the grown-ups toasting the New Year with glasses of Cold Duck. It seemed so exotic, and no one could explain why it had such a weird name. Jimmy, the neighbors' boy, and I would be allowed a sip of the sweet, bubbly stuff, but I had to be promised that there were no real ducks in the concoction before I'd touch it.


As I've grown older, New Year's Eve doesn't excite me much, because I believe a new year starts every morning when I awaken. Sleeping through the Big Event has become a tradition in a way. One time about twenty years ago, my mom had traveled to my place for a post-Christmas visit. At the time I lived in a three-story apartment (just one bedroom, but three floors). It was a cozy New Year's Eve...just me, my mom, and my partner Michael who lived in town but came out to stay the night. We were in my den on the ground floor, and about nine o'clock I said I'd better grab a short nap if I wanted to be alert when the new year chimed in. Exit me.


Sometime after I went up to my bedroom on the third floor, Michael said a nap sounded like a good idea, so he stretched out on the sofa in the living room (second floor), and mom snoozed on the futon in the den. The next morning we all met up in the kitchen. We had slept through the new year's arrival, each on a separate floor. That's just the kind of exciting life I lead.


This morning marked the start of a new AA meeting that my morning group has started. We meet Monday through Friday at 6:45, and decided to start Saturday meetings as well. Because most folks don't have to go to work, we chose 8:45 for our weekend meetings. We had a wonderful time this morning, and last night I decided to bake a cake for the inaugural meeting. I'm going to share the recipe, which is one I made up using another recipe for inspiration; folks seemed to like it a lot. Then again, I had a captive audience since the only other thing available was coffee.


Coconut-Cranberry Cake

2 cups granulated sugar
3/4 cup butter
1/4 cup shortening
4 eggs
2 teaspoons coconut extract
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup buttermilk
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt (scant)
1-1/4 cups flaked coconut
3/4 cup whole fresh cranberries, chopped

Grease & flour a 10" bundt pan. Preheat oven to 350.
Cream butter, shortening, and sugar. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well. Add extracts.
Sift together flour, baking powder, and salt in a separate bowl.
Add dry ingredients to butter/sugar mixture alternately with buttermilk, beginning and ending with dry ingredients. Do not over-mix, or cake will be tough!
Fold in coconut and cranberries.
Bake 60 - 70 minutes or until cake tests done. Let cool on rack in pan 15 minutes before removing to serving platter or cake saver.

I pulsed the coconut and then the cranberries in a mini-processor before adding them to the batter. This worked well, allowed for cleaner cutting, and gave the cake nice tiny flecks of pink and red. Frankly, I had cranberries left over from holiday baking, and decided to throw them in at the last minute, and the tart berries balanced the sweet coconut nicely. Obviously, the baking time will depend on your oven and the pan you use. I'm still getting used to a heavy Nordic Ware bundt pan, so I always test the cake with thin appetizer skewers before I turn off the oven. You can, of course, play with the ingredients. Using all butter would be great, but I've been baking so much over the holidays that I started substituting a little shortening in some recipes because butter is so darned expensive these days.


Even though I put some cranberries out for the wildlife, I still had some left, so I just pulled an apple-cranberry-cocoa cake out of the oven. If it turns out, you may see that recipe soon.


There are beliefs interwoven in the concept of New Year's Day that I embrace whole-heartedly. One of these beliefs is that each one of us can make a new start. Others are the thoughts of freshness, growth, and new possibilities. Words like sunrise, horizon, discovery, exploration and frontier burst in my mind. The world outside my windows looks dormant, but I know that inside those trees and beneath the frozen ground new life is gathering strength and preparing to push forth, unnoticed at first, but before too many months have passed, in the glory of full bloom.


I hope everyone is off to a good start in 2008! If you make resolutions each year and have already slipped, don't be discouraged. You have a new year starting tomorrow morning.