Just Ingest

When all else fails, I drop back to oral pleasures. Not that there is any shortage of other topics. I have a post started on the topic of reading, for example. I have numerous vital links backlogged on politics, pending awakening of proper muse.

But food is a sometimes less tendentious topic and that's what we're here for now. I got started on food here in an attempt to overcome my writer's cramp on the annual family Holiday Letter, which I gather has a beaver-dam's worth of cards impatiently clogged up in the pipeline. Yeah, that makes it easier, as Mr. Black would say. There's food in that epistle too as it happens, and my fussing here did actually help me to get that chore done.

Besides which, we all continue to eat, hopefully on a more-or-less day-to-day basis. You might get fed up (pun intended) with your politics, but I bet you still try for at least two or more squares most days, right?

Alas, I was too busy doing the cooking to acquire visuals for the victuals mentioned here.

Which reminds me. During recent lunch walk I was thinking of those regular polygons. You know, like equilateral triangles? Squares? I was thinking about the total of the angles. Triangle of course is 180. Square is 360. Pentagon I find with some research is 540. Hexagon 720. Heptagon 900. Octagon 1,080. These angle totals do not seem to approach a finite limit as I expected, thinking of the circle as the ultima thule of this mental polygon exercise. Based on limited study, circle has a total angle of infinity, or thereabouts. That's getting up there.

But back to food. We had the great good fortune to sup with dear friends in their new condo just a week ago. A semi-house-warming event. The course of most occasion to me was the scallop pan roast. A bit misleadingly named, this is apparently a variant of a historic recipe, that in essence involves scallops gently cooked in a savory, dairy-based sauce, with clam juice, worcestershire, celery salt, and tabasco among the flavorings (yum). Our host, Bob Baxter, took the trouble to track down a recipe he had savored when dining out and recreated it. Great stuff. If it were me, I would add the gin towards the end of the cooking, as I believe Bob did, to avoid losing too much juniper essence. Good reading at the link, beyond recipe, btw.

We have been busy here too with food experiments. Margaret is wonderfully exploratory and creative in her perusals of cooking media. One of her recent finds was entitled Chicken Stew with Ricotta-chive Dumplings (via the Seattle Times). I had to agree that the recipe was intriguing, realizing I have had a secret yen to explore those dumpling-things, a rarity in my prior existence. The idea that they could involve cornmeal just sexed the recipe up even more. Yummy. Leftovers in lunch ditto.

And the devine Ms. M also came upon a "lite" onion soup recipe that worked out pretty well. I guess I have suffered some sub-par FOS, but as a rule, it is a soup to count on, no matter how crafted. This one suited me fine.

The mistress also hosted here the annual Holiday Party for the staff at her elementary school a week ago Friday (argh!). I chose to take it as an excuse to try out a recipe from classic Diana Kennedy Mexican cookbook for chicken with poblano chilis ("Pechugas de Pollo con Rajas"). Not exactly the prime time of the year to be acquiring chilis, of course (nor the venue for an experiment!), but the Pike Place Market, two blocks west of my office, can often cover for some such awkwardness (I did not inquire as to pepper source, mi apologia, Ms. Kingsolver). It involved more pepper-roasting (and peeling) for me than any prior recipe, Eric being the local guru at this. I roasted the peppers, cooked up the chicken, made the sauce, and got the rest of the ingredients in place the night before, allowing for only moderate stress on party-night. The chicken was generally a hit, I gather. I know I liked it, though there were at the least a few refinements in presentation needed.

In the meantime, I had somehow developed an itch for fava beans. I don't think it was a Hannibal Lector thing, but who knows. I tracked down dried split favas at a great local Mediterranean restaurant supply outlet a while back and did a soup that included as I recall potatoes and coriandor. It stoked my interest in this under-used legume. I doggedly went back to dried favas recently with Eric's help, working them up in Catalonian style in Tomato Sauce with Chorizo (ok, we improvised with Andouille). Oh my, that is comfort and soul food, at least as much as a new recipe could possibly be.

And the wily Ms. M also slipped a couple other new savory numbers into our play-list here recently, via recipes she spotted in, of all places, Better Homes and Gardens. In particular, there was Breaded Pork with Cabbage and Kale and Chunky Bean and Chicken Chili, both of which we found pretty easy to assemble and certainly enjoyable.

Yikes! It's Christmas Eve! We celebrated with a gorgeous rib roast featuring horseradish-mustard crust and our first-ever Yorkshire pudding (h/t Jules - and btw we broke out and greatly savored first bottle of your 2007!). Good gracious how self-indulgent.

Good tastes, good will, and Happy Holidays to you all!

Ode to Reading

I have always been enthralled with the world of books and reading and have thus instinctively had something resembling a school-boy crush on dang-near every librarian I ever met, as you may have worked out by now. Okay, I might not use those exact words for the one or maybe two significant male librarians I encountered early on, but how strange to realize how rare males are in that role. And I can vouch for at least one female exception by encounter and another by reputation.

I started a log of my reading a while back, partly as a personal goad to make reading even more of a priority. I have found that it is also helpful to have a record of what I have read (and when) in connecting with other readers. I like having some sense of where my reading has taken me and find my reading record helpful both for my own purposes and frequently in exchanges with others. I have big-time regret that only rarely do I find time to annotate the reading records.

I started my log by poring over cryptic and likely incomplete calendar notations stretching back to 1994, the first personal reading records I know of. I have no documentation of what I recall as voracious reading in earlier years, including multiple reads of Swiss Family Robinson, an early favorite, Freedom of the Hills, junior high school obsession with SciFi but also lots of other subjects, relishing of UW bookstore visits in HS to indulge in interests beyond classroom assignments (Dos Passos! Sinclair!), and endangerment of my college academic program through auditing of multiple English classes compelling reading of Joyce's Ulysses and innumerable other classics and inspiring and spinning off more, e.g. Alexandria Quartet, none of which were suited for one supposedly seeking an engineering degree (while also dallying in the burgeoning ecology-related topics like Island Biogeography available for the savoring!)

Recent reading (e.g., "Mistakes Were Made") suggests caution in relying on memory on these sorts of things, yet I am pretty certain that the term "obsessive reader" would have been applicable back then.

It's quite likely I read more book-wise back in the sixties than I do now. But these days I try to keep a list.

And it is almost certain that there was a stretch when we had a far more fascinating obsession, namely our children, especially from 1978 to, say, 2000, though the latter date is a bit arbitrary. As Bob Seger so astutely pegs at least one of the pangs of adulthood in his great tune "Against the Wind," "what to leave in, what to leave out." No way to tell. Our life back then was pretty delightedly wrapped up in our children's activities. Actually, it still is, though they are adults now.

And what a time it was! Honestly, your President, in "Audacity," got me misty: "the ache that every parent must feel at one time or another, that desire to snatch up each moment of your child's presence and never let go - to preserve every gesture, to lock in for all eternity the sight of their curls or the feel of their fingers clasped around yours."

Indeed. An understatement. He's pretty young to be so savvy about that.

I likely read somewhat more today than I did back in the early '90's, but I am skeptical that the increase is as dramatic as limited records show. My early data are spotty at best - I wish I'd made better notes in those and earlier days, but more from the standpoint of what I read rather than how much. My research documents reading of merely 15 books in 1994, which seems implausibly low, though I'm sure I have enrichment from great times with the kids that may explain it. By contrast, in 2007 I read 94 books (personal best from only actual data - I'm sure bested in earlier years). I did not get near that number in 2008, with a total of 71. One wild-card is listening to audio-books, only a factor in the last few years. I did not listen to as many audio-books last year as in prior, and certainly was far more engaged in reading of on-line material in connection with the election (oh, and, err, perhaps blogging?). Those behavioral changes have not stopped, I find, with the election!

For illustration, my November 2008 "completed books" list, unusually canted towards non-fiction, consisted of:

My Stroke of Insight (Taylor)
remarkable account (from uniquely-informed patient's perspective) of a stroke and recovery by a brain-scientist

Standard Operating Procedure (Gourevitch and Morris)
dark account of Abu Ghraib

The Nick Adams Stories (Hemingway)
great compilation, attempting to present all the previously known (e.g., "The Killers") and several lesser-known semi-biographical Adams tales in seemingly chronological order - lent by Marshall

Look Me in the Eye (Robison)
very insightful and instructive Asberger's Syndrome sufferer's memoir

The Spy Who Tried to Stop a War (Mitchell)
great account of Brit who thought she had basis for forestalling the absurd invasion of Iraq

Wesley the Owl (O'Brien)
great animal tale - your best shot at insight on the life of an owl

bed/time/story (Robinson)
fascinating (racy and frisky) '60's memoir

When You Care Enough to Send the Very Best

The economy as a whole may be in the crapper, or headed that way, but I have to think cobblers throughout the world could be seeing a distinct uptick in their line of work. After repeated cycles of Bird Flu hysteria, it's a distinct relief to find ourselves instead in the throes of an apparent international Shoe Fetish pandemic. And, after all, sometimes rediscovering your sense of humor can be key to dealing with fear, perhaps especially of the -mongered variety. OK, yes, there is a legend that whistling a happy tune can also be therapeutic for some, but there is an increased level of difficulty there - not to mention the potential for public shaming if one is musically-challenged.

So I hope you too can get a good chortle or two out of this (h/t faithful reader AM):

This morning, the Rude Pundit decided to honor the efforts of Muntader al-Zaidi, the Iraqi shoe-tosser, by taking out a raggedy old pair of sneakers, putting them in a Priority Mail shipping box, helpfully provided by the United States Post Office, and shipping them to President George W. Bush at the White House. He included a note that read, "This is a farewell kiss from the American people, you dog."

Since throwing objects at the president is generally considered a crime, the Rude Pundit figures sending shoes to Bush is a small, good thing, a gesture of contempt that has context. Sweet Christ, at this point, there should be giant sacks of shoes heading to 1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW, Washington, DC, 20500, like letters to Santa.

The Rude Pundit is not going to hide his fucking glee at the incident. He's not going to "respect the office" or some such shit because Bush doesn't respect it, so fuck him - take a fuckin' shoe in the face - it'll probably be the only punishment our criminal president ever faces in his lifetime. All over America right now, millions of people are thinking the same thing: "About. Fucking. Time." Hell, when you watch the video, you see that the Secret Service barely cares. And you also see Bush smirk, as if thinking, "It's better than the plates Laura flings when she finds my whiskey."

And what's sweeter is that it's the only thing anyone's gonna remember about W's smug little "victory" lap he was trying to take in Iraq and Afghanistan, a trip that was like a rapist trying to get the semen stains out of the carpet before the DNA is found. Instead, the whole thing descended (or ascended, depending on your point of view) into farce, like a smug opera singer ripping a fart while hitting a high note. It was gratifying, no less than he deserved.

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There's a bit more at the link, but I suspect you get the general idea!

Eagles Versus War Criminals

We seem to have plummeted into actual winter here. That's not necessarily entirely a bad thing, mind you. But it is somewhat of a rarity to have the weather-meisters come so close to getting it right, presumably because the human instrumentation tends to taper off about 100 miles west of us, where the Pacific NW meets Big Blue. It just seems like there are limits to what they can do with satellite photos. Now Dubuque, Iowa, just par example, hey they have a good thousand-plus miles of very-involved on-the-spot observers to exploit and plagiarize from, I would think. I admit oddities like those Dorothy had so much fun with (or was that all a dream?) might challenge even that system. And, to be fair, we never get the extremes of Winter most of the rest of the northern tier seems to experience with some frequency. Our "Winter" is probably laughable to many of you - let's just say I am playing to Southern California.

Anyway, more or less on forecast, distinct cooling began Friday, even causing a little sleet here, followed by minor snowfall beginning Saturday night. The real oddity is the temperature drop, and even more the forecast that it will persist. Apparently there is Arctic air (glad that still is available, frankly, but shouldn't we be spending gazillions on some mechanism, no doubt outrageously-expensively-researched by an aeronautical firm or some other obvious military-industrial long-time no-competition winner, for batting it back on behalf of the Polar Bears?) flowing this way. We barely got above freezing on Sunday. So glad I tested my back late Saturday humping 50-lb planters into the potting shed! (And, yes, since you ask, I did re-stock the bird feeders while I was at it.) I don't think we have seen the up-side of Farenheit 32 since early Sunday.

The mercifully small pre-freeze precip at least in Seattle area has meant that the arterials are not in bad shape, and the buses for example do not seem to generally be wearing chains (thank goodness, for the state of the street surfaces). My commute today was pretty routine, though clogged with first-time bus-riders, leading to standing and thus preventing the reading time I count on.

But the forecast is for sub-32 to persist for a number of days and there is some rumbling about precipitation possibility in the next 24-48 hrs, so we'll see. We don't get all that much of the winter wonderland effect (or winter holocaust) that much of the northern 2/3 of the country seems prone to, so this is always interesting, especially just as the holidays are coming over the horizon.

I went for a little lunch-time expedition today, catching a bus north towards home and getting off at the Amgen pedestrian overpass over the train tracks to walk back through Myrtle Edwards park (bingo for you sharpies - indeed the Thanksgiving Turkey Trot venue!).

I was naturally in the best mood of the day as I was on foot for a spell, which augmented my classic "shit-eating grin" as a gorgeous mature Bald Eagle swooped 50 feet over my head just as I finished the climb to the top of the overpass. That made for eagles at both ends, the other being the 40-foot (or so) iconic Alexander Calder "Eagle" (1971, for those keeping score) at the Seattle Art Museum's new outdoor exhibit park. In between, I did pause to enjoy waterfowl, my reason for choosing this particular expedition, but as I had only a tiny 10x monocle, viewing was a challenge. I'm pretty certain that American Widgeon and Common Goldeneye were the birds that provided most of the entertainment. (Yes, that's my pic from a prior visit, and probably fortuitous Baldie in the flesh just right of the sculpture.)

But, let us get back to politics. I'm sickened by how much press time has been expended on this whole sorry Illinois governor debacle. Our MSM really need to go back to potty-training or something. It is - no, THEY ARE - pathetic. There are actual newsworthy issues out there that they are too busy doing their People Magazine schtick to notice. I guess I already used "pathetic," so I can't justify repeat, but what else can one make of the absolute MSM silence on this:

The bipartisan Senate Armed Services Committee report issued on Thursday -- which documents that "former Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld and other senior U.S. officials share much of the blame for detainee abuse at Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq, and Guantanamo Bay, Cuba" and "that Rumsfeld's actions were 'a direct cause of detainee abuse' at Guantanamo and 'influenced and contributed to the use of abusive techniques ... in Afghanistan and Iraq'" -- raises an obvious and glaring question: how can it possibly be justified that the low-level Army personnel carrying out these policies at Abu Ghraib have been charged, convicted and imprisoned, while the high-level political officials and lawyers who directed and authorized these same policies remain free of any risk of prosecution? The culpability which the Report assigns for these war crimes is vast in scope and unambiguous:

The executive summary also traces the erosion of detainee treatment standards to a Feb,. 7, 2002, memorandum signed by President George W. Bush stating that the Geneva Convention did not apply to the U.S. war with al Qaeda and that Taliban detainees were not entitled to prisoner of war status or legal protections.

"The president's order closed off application of Common Article 3 of the Geneva Conventions, which would have afforded minimum standards for humane treatment," the summary said.

Members of Bush's Cabinet and other senior officials participated in meetings inside the White House in 2002 and 2003 where specific interrogation techniques were discussed, according to the report.

The policies which the Senate Armed Services Committee unanimously concludes were authorized by Bush, Rumsfeld and several other top Bush officials did not merely lead to "abuse" and humiliating treatment, but are directly -- and unquestionably -- responsible for numerous detainee murders. Many of those deaths caused by abusive treatment have been formally characterized as "homicides" by autopsies performed in Iraq and Afghanistan (see these chilling compilations of autopsy findings on detainees in U.S. custody, obtained by the ACLU, which reads like a classic and compelling exhibit in a war crimes trial).

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There is a good deal more at that clip that you owe it to yourself to read. War Crimes: Rumsfeld, Cheney, Bush. I can't imagine any of us are surprised by that charge, but what a relief to again see it right out there where it belongs.

I don't know about you, but despite the other depredations in my neighborhood, having war criminals out loose and free to predate is just about the worst thing I can imagine. Isn't that what Federal Prosecutors used to be all about?

While I had hoped to tag on some coverage of our new heroes, that maestro of the shoe-toss (may he make an Olympic Team in some sport in the future!!) and the incredible former-FBI whistleblower (a Nobel might be a stretch - but he deserves something along those lines), that will have to wait, maybe, for another time.