" My Russian Grandmother and Her American Vacuum Cleaner"

<span style="font-style:italic;">My Russian Grandmother and Her American Vacuum Cleaner: A Family Memoir</span> by Meir Shalev is a delicious depiction of Moshav Nahalal in the Jezreel Valley in northern Israel. A moshav is a type of collective farm that's far less communal than a kibbutz. The early Israeli pioneers who preferred to live in separate homes for individual families frequently chose life on a moshav instead of the demanding shared kibbutz life. Nahalal was one of the first, perhaps the very first, moshav, founded by Russian Jews in the 1920s. In the course of his memoir, Shalev depicts life on the moshav throughout its history, and even provides background about the Russian villages where the founders came from.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrs5YbnCqC-4BTQza82vGc-DWPlwvy12hPfYlVBy_9XHcQ8vzyHp16no5wWBWxPR2D4adi52nOburV9XfgXNyu6wzwQEyQYUPKyQybsUU6DErog8oKL_sKqEc4O1aPiqVJ1Vy5AWUYjC6x/s1600/cemetery.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677271699658076754" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrs5YbnCqC-4BTQza82vGc-DWPlwvy12hPfYlVBy_9XHcQ8vzyHp16no5wWBWxPR2D4adi52nOburV9XfgXNyu6wzwQEyQYUPKyQybsUU6DErog8oKL_sKqEc4O1aPiqVJ1Vy5AWUYjC6x/s400/cemetery.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" /></a>I especially enjoyed Shalev's memoir because I've visited the Moshav and met some of the present-day inhabitants. I was even given a tour of the cemetery where his parents are buried: a location that figures in several scenes in his memoir. At right is a photo that I took on that visit.<br /><br />For our visit, we drove on the most recently built tollway from our temporary apartment in Rehovot up to Nahalal. In contrast, Shalev's earliest childhood trips to Nahalal in the 1950s were via the milk tanker that delivered milk from the moshav's cows to the dairy in Jerusalem. Though his grandparents were founders of the moshav, his mother had moved to Jerusalem where his father was a teacher and a poet, so the milk-truck driver would take him back to visit his grandmother and other relatives. Later, he traveled by train, a long and complicated route. His descriptions of train travel are vivid and amusing, right down to the sandwiches with tomato but with the salt packed separately so that the tomatoes wouldn't get mushy and to the last few miles when he and his mother and sisters would travel by horse-drawn cart.<br /><br />Here's my favorite passage about a story his grandfather told about life before going to Israel:<div></div><blockquote><div>"In the shop that his family had 'back there' in Makarov, in Ukraine, 'we sold products for the body, products for the soul, and products for between the two.' When I asked him what he meant by that, he explained. 'Products for the body were axes and hoes and boots for the Ukrainian farmers. Products for the soul were tallises, tefillin, and prayer books for the Jews.'</div><div><br /></div><div>"Then he fell silent and stared at me in order to get me to ask what the products in betwen the two were.</div><div><br /></div><div>'"Grandpa,' I said, 'and what were the products in between the two?'</div><div>"In between the two," he chuckled, 'is <i>selyodka,</i> herring. It's for both the body and the soul.'"</div></blockquote>

" My Russian Grandmother and Her American Vacuum Cleaner"

My Russian Grandmother and Her American Vacuum Cleaner: A Family Memoir by Meir Shalev is a delicious depiction of Moshav Nahalal in the Je...

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Happy Birthday Adam

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCL3OG4Gnd8V9ioINOjwHMYNc7Yz2b6mvHx47h66z_yMbVPVYaJZEa0tcYxBJhahjFmmf7ub7tbiuN2m9zDTbPZ1V-w6u11Id9yVP9bb-zkcdcOoWB-WlwtCnrrjAipQPJ_wlX7QsjgWgx/s1600/adam7970.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674117222853885202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCL3OG4Gnd8V9ioINOjwHMYNc7Yz2b6mvHx47h66z_yMbVPVYaJZEa0tcYxBJhahjFmmf7ub7tbiuN2m9zDTbPZ1V-w6u11Id9yVP9bb-zkcdcOoWB-WlwtCnrrjAipQPJ_wlX7QsjgWgx/s400/adam7970.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghA00kzjDHV0zWePlUwgNg_nWVauX7ao8rer6O23elnaCBL2do33FaZpbyli6S7BZaetbdGBRjCKsXazotw3KwWOm6OFxBMQIJMCyedX_QY87-tHl_jHWoNK8aLH0dGeY4-96ZilMTW7b_/s1600/adam7971.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674117225120200402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghA00kzjDHV0zWePlUwgNg_nWVauX7ao8rer6O23elnaCBL2do33FaZpbyli6S7BZaetbdGBRjCKsXazotw3KwWOm6OFxBMQIJMCyedX_QY87-tHl_jHWoNK8aLH0dGeY4-96ZilMTW7b_/s400/adam7971.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 251px;" /></a>On 11-11-11, Adam turns 25. Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday Adam

On 11-11-11, Adam turns 25. Happy Birthday!

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A Strange Burst of Efficiency

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZrl2-B6kEWbX8kWlM8n8fO8FmYnBMf0A7wRh_ZmP1h4TZRH_IWSihhBAwx5Ady0Jhw6_KwyNkaCAFEd9f1J0rKehL2CZTQDQR1rYiwiUltSgq13YEi2hbJZ9Rk6HikzElYJaQRv9hj1zf/s1600/meatballs7964.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673172330044784962" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZrl2-B6kEWbX8kWlM8n8fO8FmYnBMf0A7wRh_ZmP1h4TZRH_IWSihhBAwx5Ady0Jhw6_KwyNkaCAFEd9f1J0rKehL2CZTQDQR1rYiwiUltSgq13YEi2hbJZ9Rk6HikzElYJaQRv9hj1zf/s400/meatballs7964.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" /></a>Sometimes I buy frozen packages of meatballs from Trader Joe's, but today I decided to make a whole lot of meatballs and freeze some. This is very unusual for me! My freezer is usually full of convenience food, bread, and ice packs of various sorts. (We threw out the 8 year old rolls of photo film when we installed our new refrigerator last month.)<div><br /></div><div>For my meatballs, I used 2 lb. of grass-fed ground beef (the leanest) and a pound of whatever ecologically green ground pork Whole Foods had to offer. As a result, I did not spend less per meatball than at TJ's. But that's not what was driving me, anyway. I wanted to have some home-made meatballs in the freezer. <div><br /></div><div>Above you can see one of the 2 trays of meat balls before I put them in the oven. And below, the still steaming meatballs just as they came out. This was the tray that went into 2 freezer boxes:<br /><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj30OLHDG25fbHaZzZuOiya9ajAXWm23xlARXYWiamEdp91KYSV5nE5GFoYX6joYUYx57c6RC6xZAffEdhvcyeYZv0zEBMHBD6bkCaKII8URuO8l_nmpgYvGp6CunhGHMNdIvHdPrWwVYR-/s1600/meatballs7966.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673172328652449042" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj30OLHDG25fbHaZzZuOiya9ajAXWm23xlARXYWiamEdp91KYSV5nE5GFoYX6joYUYx57c6RC6xZAffEdhvcyeYZv0zEBMHBD6bkCaKII8URuO8l_nmpgYvGp6CunhGHMNdIvHdPrWwVYR-/s400/meatballs7966.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" /></a><br />For dinner, I simmered the other tray of baked meatballs in some tomato sauce (this was from Trader Joe's but I added a dash of sugar and balsamic vinegar to it). We ate around half of it for dinner; I thought it was good:</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXkQV3Ank5feohcMLaGAC9XGhIC6EM85ooNKUOcr767H0vXXJkx-F1tB7eSGEuA5roXl8RQPzN-opf8_Z8cgnVws24V1sWK4_zI6jhjqzUjchyYWUgTiCV4yvZ9TPGqgkUIIwNR24mA4Dd/s1600/meatballs7967.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673172321814767426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXkQV3Ank5feohcMLaGAC9XGhIC6EM85ooNKUOcr767H0vXXJkx-F1tB7eSGEuA5roXl8RQPzN-opf8_Z8cgnVws24V1sWK4_zI6jhjqzUjchyYWUgTiCV4yvZ9TPGqgkUIIwNR24mA4Dd/s400/meatballs7967.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" /></a>To make meatballs I use 1 egg and one-half to one small, finely chopped onion per pound of meat. Today I put in panko crumbs (I sometimes use other starchy stuff such as matzoh meal or oatmeal), parsley flakes, herbs de Provence, and a squeeze of tomato paste from my handy tomato paste tube. Sometimes I flavor them differently. Always salt and pepper, though. I don't measure all the seasonings, just eyeball it and feel it to see if it needs more crumbs. I mix it up thoroughly, gently form meat balls tucking the onion pieces inside the meat so they don't separate while cooking. I bake them at 475 for 12 minutes (less if they are to be simmered in sauce). Some of the frozen ones might end up in cardamom flavored white sauce or in some other arrangement.</div></div></div>

A Strange Burst of Efficiency

Sometimes I buy frozen packages of meatballs from Trader Joe's, but today I decided to make a whole lot of meatballs and freeze some. Th...

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Freaks

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKk5JRCdve0X1k6BenKuhiyLHlYcyHob_kFkRGbw2ZVx2UidoLVKq82NdJ2YRQ9D3Po2JSzXRVzwgXBxSTsMT-3m3fEfoOF0KyS3jo4dWq8Lfmj3fpGh5VLzX6cvwFuOvITXiK9Lg2MXbD/s1600/idahospud.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670863362888071858" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKk5JRCdve0X1k6BenKuhiyLHlYcyHob_kFkRGbw2ZVx2UidoLVKq82NdJ2YRQ9D3Po2JSzXRVzwgXBxSTsMT-3m3fEfoOF0KyS3jo4dWq8Lfmj3fpGh5VLzX6cvwFuOvITXiK9Lg2MXbD/s200/idahospud.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 160px;" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVgvH_w35U7icml1hrbtNuaUNYWIf7UtxcmBzaTuaYXlvLTPioFg2Vwg2fnRRTnPSySL_PNyfm31YHejR75Gae492nU6X1t9DT0Ef7Jav_5RzyZ4cjWsHF-2_U8f8t0aRigcA5uYbVKwOL/s1600/googoo.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670863239512120226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVgvH_w35U7icml1hrbtNuaUNYWIf7UtxcmBzaTuaYXlvLTPioFg2Vwg2fnRRTnPSySL_PNyfm31YHejR75Gae492nU6X1t9DT0Ef7Jav_5RzyZ4cjWsHF-2_U8f8t0aRigcA5uYbVKwOL/s320/googoo.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" /></a>I just read <i>Candy Freak</i> by Steve Almond. The book, as suggested by its title, is about Steve Almond's obsessions with candy bars. He spends a lot of time describing his childhood experiences with candy bars, but the main topic of each chapter is the exploration of candy bar factories, especially the small regional ones that make little-known candy bars with imaginative names. I've never heard of many of the brands he features, much less tasted them, but I googled around for photos to help myself imagine what he was talking about.<div><br /></div><div>Almond is obsessed by the fate of these obscure candy bars, a sad declining fate which is pretty much sealed. Mars, Hershey, and Nestle pay tens of thousands of dollars to super markets and other mainstream candy sellers for the shelf space for their products (which Almond seems to have nothing against, just that they won't let him tour their factories). No matter how good or how locally popular obscure candy bars may be, the small and often eccentric manufacturers can't afford these fees. So they are sold in gas stations or dollar stores or mom-and-pop places where only candy freaks like the author or neighborhood kids or whatever will buy them. <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjET1YBfhqkw6D4G2kgWkCptY3Gvfp2ZfUcw96eLNzdP0s6Mg8hIo-h3ZidGeAekKPHCwVRIu6OiukaeVYRWT5ZUBNm2GtZJrWZzhbfRs1pxuqY5G7c9TcnMcs56lZHycaKgIW_svjl5e_J/s1600/valomilk.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670865378359135266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjET1YBfhqkw6D4G2kgWkCptY3Gvfp2ZfUcw96eLNzdP0s6Mg8hIo-h3ZidGeAekKPHCwVRIu6OiukaeVYRWT5ZUBNm2GtZJrWZzhbfRs1pxuqY5G7c9TcnMcs56lZHycaKgIW_svjl5e_J/s200/valomilk.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" /></a><br /></div><div>Almond is therefore very sad. He's a sad man, and he slowly introduces the reader to any number of sources of sadness and freaking out in his life. I don't want to go into this area of the book -- too depressing. Candy bars for him are an escape from what could be seen as neurotic self-absorption and messed-up memories. He calls his existential state "the loneliness, the creeping sense of failure," and he harbors the hope that "the pleasures of candy would help me beat a path from my despair." (p. 155) Jeez. For this he embarked on a nation-wide tour of candy factories.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Mostly, it's a very freaky book, but unlike a lot of books, it isn't guilty of misrepresenting itself: Candy Freak. Yes. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQrRzkLku5BR5TqVPWBices3QHrB4yBA_SeuTBlTfN5LA8vqkNRCLhr1aHVyTvqZNXfoIevG6f_flGX6adhNA5vxW8P5Mw-yIY70t4cbqUNXeszov1XPE9wWBdbXc8b-LWhZFZ_hqGgv7c/s1600/5star.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670862950077754194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQrRzkLku5BR5TqVPWBices3QHrB4yBA_SeuTBlTfN5LA8vqkNRCLhr1aHVyTvqZNXfoIevG6f_flGX6adhNA5vxW8P5Mw-yIY70t4cbqUNXeszov1XPE9wWBdbXc8b-LWhZFZ_hqGgv7c/s320/5star.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The greatest writerly skill Almond displays is describing tastes of candy bars. </div><div><br /></div><div>He bites into one and writes: "The dark chocolate shell gave way to an intense burst of sweet, chewy fruit. The texture was soft enough to yield to the teeth, yet firm enough to absorb the musky undertones of the chocolate." This candy bar turns out to be "a dried cherry, infused with raspberry and covered in a Select Origin 75 percent dark chocolate." (p. 104) Yes, a premium post-modern chocolate bar, photo at right. </div><div><br /></div><div>But Almond is just as rapturous about dozens of other candy bars that have been manufactured pretty much the same way and on the same antique equipment for nearly a century, and are still made by the descendants of the founding candy-makers. And he describes each factory and each owner in great and remarkably varied detail.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsdzmf25GCS55LXAFCnWbUq6etTOtEG2Wgsunf-iJKpi2kKavXREwI4IvUJLcg5BveTWqVOliSYxMKbfqapE00wzyQ2OQnodih5VqhFSxh0daW_jKFoEj1EZaN2fd7NwSTIJ4umjGyyp3/s1600/Snickers-Fun-Size.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670866350804598882" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsdzmf25GCS55LXAFCnWbUq6etTOtEG2Wgsunf-iJKpi2kKavXREwI4IvUJLcg5BveTWqVOliSYxMKbfqapE00wzyQ2OQnodih5VqhFSxh0daW_jKFoEj1EZaN2fd7NwSTIJ4umjGyyp3/s200/Snickers-Fun-Size.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 140px;" /></a><br /></div><div>For me, this is the worst week of the year to hear about all these candy bars, because Monday was Halloween, and I spent at least the last 2 weeks in October on a kind of Snickers and Butterfinger bender. Honest -- I only ate one Snickers bar between last Halloween and this October, and that was on the road when we stopped at a gas station that didn't really have any real food. But I digress from Almond's talents, and his great success in documenting the last of the small-scale candy makers. For this, he is in fact widely recognized and often quoted. Freaky!</div></div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQzvFm3oaqZHZ1Ziz_JyO0H_QazTpVQmYwWRvCmqXuROO5a8MsDL0ISqUvAf9y6qZCJWJHu6mq80ANo3IJE4Iz4_sbS7Iccsa5xRbcmEjOZNUo8P4qfUu5vsEHOe4GKGCfxspUuJZGpcA/s1600/candyfreak.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670867839616196642" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQzvFm3oaqZHZ1Ziz_JyO0H_QazTpVQmYwWRvCmqXuROO5a8MsDL0ISqUvAf9y6qZCJWJHu6mq80ANo3IJE4Iz4_sbS7Iccsa5xRbcmEjOZNUo8P4qfUu5vsEHOe4GKGCfxspUuJZGpcA/s400/candyfreak.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 197px; height: 255px;" /></a>

Freaks

I just read Candy Freak by Steve Almond. The book, as suggested by its title, is about Steve Almond's obsessions with candy bars. He sp...

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Way Out West

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/12003515@N05/5671138167/" title="petrified5992 by mesander2000, on Flickr"><img alt="petrified5992" height="480" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5190/5671138167_da38360fc0_z.jpg" width="640" /></a><div><br /></div><div>The La Fonda Hotel in Santa Fe New Mexico, the splendid accommodations at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, the Union Station in St. Louis, and the coffee shop in the Petrified Forest National Monument (now a museum -- see photo above) all have impressed me greatly at the various times in my life when I've experienced them. I just read a book that puts them all together: they were originally designed and developed by Fred Harvey. Author Stephen Fried's <i>Appetite for America: Fred Harvey and the Business of Civilizing the Wild West -- One Meal at a Time</i> is a good read. It successfully combines the biography of the man Fred Harvey (1835-1901), the historic development of the American west, and the history of the once-famous hospitality company, also named Fred Harvey, that he founded and that continued for decades under the management of his family after his death. </div><div><br /></div><div>I knew two basic things about Fred Harvey before I read the book. First, I was aware that there were many restaurants and hotels by that name at some time in the past, which turns out to have been the era of development of tourism along the route of the Santa Fe railroad. Second, I understood that Fred Harvey Indian stores had traded for some of the highest quality rugs, pottery, and other artifacts, and had encouraged the Indians to develop their craft traditions.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here are several additional interesting things I learned about the man and his company:</div><div><br /></div><div>Harvey began by creating a chain of restaurants along the rail lines, where travelers could buy reliable meals without being cheated. He continued by improving the food and service in a number of ways, and by working with Pullman to develop dining cars when train technology made it possible to walk from car to car, and made the interiors of the trains more pleasant. His endeavor included many measures to ensure consistent quality, making Fred Harvey the first restaurant chain and a model for some that followed.</div><div><br /></div><div>At the end of his life, Harvey and his sons began to expand into tourist hotels, and particularly to create the still-amazing hotels and tourist facilities at the Grand Canyon, the La Fonda Hotel in Santa Fe, and a few other spectacular places. They also took over all concessions at central rail terminals such as the Union Station in St.Louis that I remember. After the Depression, the only profitable part of the company was at the Grand Canyon, and the rest slowly shut down.</div><div><br /></div><div>The Harvey company was ahead of its time in hiring women. The wait staff of the restaurants from quite early-on was entirely female, in jobs that had previously been mainly for men. These waitresses received intense training and promised to remain in service for a certain time (after which they often married the men on the frontier where they worked). Known as "Harvey Girls," they wore super-clean white aprons, and upheld the high standards set by Fred Harvey.</div><div><br /></div><div>Women were hired not only as waitresses, but also in other roles unusual for that era. Mary Colter (1869-1958) was the chief architect and designer of the truly innovative buildings and interiors for the restaurants, gift shops, and tourist hotels for the chain. Beginning in 1902 she was the main visionary in developing what now seems to be a classic southwest style of architecture. Ironically, though, the women in the family were shut out of management by one inflexible member of the Harvey male line.</div><div><br /></div><div>Finally, in 1946, the Fred Harvey heirs cooperated with the making of "The Harvey Girls," a Judy Garland movie about the early days of the chain. The movie was extremely popular (the book notes that it made more money in its initial year than the Santa Fe railroad, which was sliding into oblivion by then). The best-known song, "On the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe," won an Academy Award. Like many films, this one cemented the collective memory of an era that was just about finished. I admit that I had not heard of the movie, though I do know the song.</div><div><br /></div><div>I loved the book. Its appendix includes recipes from published Fred Harvey cookbooks and from surviving manuscripts used by the cooks in the restaurants, many of whom were brought over from Europe to innovate combinations of classic recipes with southwest cuisine -- especially at the La Fonda in Santa Fe. (In other words, the Coyote Cafe wasn't the first to put Santa Fe on the culinary map.) I may try some of them!</div>

Way Out West

The La Fonda Hotel in Santa Fe New Mexico, the splendid accommodations at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, the Union Station in St. Louis,...

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Dumas Celebrates Pork Month

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ifSVA0OZQacEAFTPYm6b8otHxWQHulg8P6-jiDOogdb3IyUmknm55ZjSKb_kGSebdgWyofW5034LXqZrpPfc-3cX7h_eJjBVPq1288EiZ2tvIWIzPFFDFd-uv-mbA_AKUvBW3Prmf6q9/s1600/dumas.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667648316664973778" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ifSVA0OZQacEAFTPYm6b8otHxWQHulg8P6-jiDOogdb3IyUmknm55ZjSKb_kGSebdgWyofW5034LXqZrpPfc-3cX7h_eJjBVPq1288EiZ2tvIWIzPFFDFd-uv-mbA_AKUvBW3Prmf6q9/s320/dumas.jpeg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 128px; height: 209px;" /></a>Alexandre Dumas is best known for the <i>Three Musketeers</i> (at least 29 different film versions listed on IMDB, as one measure of its popularity) and <i>The Count of Monte Cristo </i>(at least 18 versions) but he also wrote a gigantic work called the "Grand Dictionnaire de Cuisine." I just bought the little tiny abridged version, recently republished. It's not exactly a cookbook but he does give recipes, so in honor of Louise's Cookbook Game at <a href="http://monthsofediblecelebrations.blogspot.com/">Months of Edible Celebrations,</a> I'm going to share a recipe in honor of Pork Month. That's what we do in this game: we pick a current MONTH, like Apple Month or in this case Pork Month, which is celebrated in October, and we find a recipe in a cookbook we like.<div><br /></div><div>The recipe in the tiny version of the "Grand Dictionnaire" which is titled <span style="font-style:italic;">From Absinthe to Zest: An Alphabet for Food Lovers</span>, doesn't just have any old entry for pork: it has "Young Wild Boar," which in French is "marcassin." The recipe is for "Quarter of wild boar with cherry sauce." You would surely want to make it, if you happened to have a "fresh tender quarter of a young wild boar." Dumas suggests that you start by dealing with the bone -- his description is detailed, on how to do this so that the bone protrudes properly from the meat. Then you put the meat in a litre of marinade, and let it macerate for two or three days, you cook it and baste it, drain it and "mask it with a thick layer of breadcrumbs (from black bread) which have been dried, pounded, sieved, mixed with a little sugar and cinnamon, and then dampened with some good red wine, but only enough to make them stick together." There are a few more instructions on cooking it, and finally putting "a paper frill around the protruding bone."<br /><br />The Cherry Sauce for the meat is made separately, from dried, unpitted cherries, softened in water and then pounded in a mortar. Additional ingredients include red wine, cinnamon, cloves, salt, and lemon zest, all thickened with starch. <br /><br />Sounds delicious, doesn't it?<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>

Dumas Celebrates Pork Month

Alexandre Dumas is best known for the Three Musketeers (at least 29 different film versions listed on IMDB, as one measure of its popularit...

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"Pomegranate Soup" by Marsha Mehran

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA24QQeKUuwnuZzyOyb4a6lBhQvkRvHyPo0Uz29SSsKFOHJRq59sAn3MvwW1viabJJrW1ul4f7bFeZnkeB0jlAQR1JYRj3WlEPANwairtZVPkKw7wVls6Km7YrdGKXVkTnGOoUjkoO7vy9/s1600/pomegranate-soup.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666405951642517170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA24QQeKUuwnuZzyOyb4a6lBhQvkRvHyPo0Uz29SSsKFOHJRq59sAn3MvwW1viabJJrW1ul4f7bFeZnkeB0jlAQR1JYRj3WlEPANwairtZVPkKw7wVls6Km7YrdGKXVkTnGOoUjkoO7vy9/s400/pomegranate-soup.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 400px;" /></a>I just read the novel <i>Pomegranate Soup</i> by Marsha Mehran. The book features descriptions of food and cooking, including one Persian recipe in each chapter. However, these descriptions are really the only feature of the novel that I find truly strong and enjoyable. The recipes for chicken with walnuts and pomegranates; various soups, yogurt drinks, and deep-fried pastries sound wonderful. <div><br /></div><div>The premise of <i>Pomegranate Soup</i> is like a well-known recipe. Take an insular village somewhere in northern Europe (here, Ireland). Invent some quirky inhabitants (quite a few here). Bring in an immigrant or two to found a restaurant or cafe (here, three sisters from Iran and an elderly Italian widow who had already been the outsider in a village for 40 years or more). Introduce the villagers to exotic cooking. They like it (a bit too fast here). Create some jealousy, greed, adolescent pranks, rivalry, and love interest (maybe a little contrived). Yup, yup, yup, a kind of a melodrama.</div><div><br /></div><div>The portrayal of the sisters and how they fled the revolution in Iran is interesting and plausible. The portrayal of the Irish villagers and the Italian widow is pretty plausible too, at least at first. The events of the story start out not too bad. But as things progress, the story goes out of control -- spoiler coming. </div><div><br /></div><div>The ending, where all the evildoers and mischief makers see the light, repent, and swear to be good, doesn't do much for me at all. Also, throughout the book the descriptions are often a bit over-written, sometimes with rather odd word choices that overreach to try to make it more vivid. In sum, it's a rather weak novel with really good food writing.</div>

"Pomegranate Soup" by Marsha Mehran

I just read the novel Pomegranate Soup by Marsha Mehran. The book features descriptions of food and cooking, including one Persian recipe i...

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