my christmas eve wish list

Tis the season. And tis also the season where I compile a list of things I want. I no longer mail said list to the North Pole, but I do deliver it in a timely fashion to my parents, complete with links to the exact things I want, detailed descriptions of items in a store (I have to restrain myself from drawing a map of Nordstrom for my mom).I could jump on the navel gazing band-wagon and punish myself for being so materialistic. I could box up everything in my room, put on a Santa suit, and drive it to good will. I could stop buying, stop receiving, stop wanting. But the truth is, I probably never will. Humans aren't saints. We're just us. The best I can do it try to want less, to give more, and to understand that I am incredibly blessed, not only because there will be a pile of presents under my tree come the morning of the 25th, but because of the way I am able to live my life on a daily basis. Gratitude is a difficult thing to hold onto. But I think that on those rare occasions that you can be truly grateful, you realize that gratitude doesn't just end with a smile and a thank you; it should motivate and galvanize. It should make us want to be better, to do better. So on this Christmas Eve, I have a new wish list, for myself, for anyone who reads this. We're all a little bit selfish by nature, but we're also prone to kindness and compassion. Sometimes we just forget to use it.

1) USO care packages for deployed soldiers.

2) Adopt an animal from the African Wildlife Foundation (they'll send you a cute little plush toy!)

3) Give a gift from the World Vision Christmas gift catalog

4) Donate to Save the Children before the 31st and your donation will be doubled

5) Donate to America's Second Harvest, the Nation's Food Bank Network. There are food bank shortages around the country. I think anyone would agree that it is unacceptable that anyone should starve in our country today.


So I'll get off my pedestal now. But I have no problem being thought preachy or patronizing, if even one person sees that list and gives to one of those very worthy charities. And it is in no way a list for everyone besides me. I'm using it to motivate myself, to remind myself that as upset as I might get for not getting a certain DVD or book tomorrow, I am so insanely lucky in so many ways. And I have no right to live my life without helping those who aren't so lucky. So there it is, my Christmas wish list.

Merry Christmas Eve everyone!

thoughts from atonement

I went to see the film Atonement today, and let's see, it's been about two hours since it ended and I think I've finally stopped crying. It completely sucker punched me. I knew it was going to be sad (period pieces about WWII and beautiful young people in love usually are), but Lord, I'm not sure I've cried that much in a movie theater since I saw Titanic when I was in sixth grade (don't judge me, for an eleven year old watching Leonardo DiCaprio die of hypothermia was a very traumatic thing). But besides simply being achingly sad, I loved the movie. I thought it was brilliantly acted, beautifully shot, subtle in all the right ways, and full of a delicate simplicity in its depiction of tragedy. But, and here's a big but, I haven't yet read the book. So anyone who has read the book might have a completely different view and think I'm a total moron for thinking otherwise. I could tell that a lot of the people in the theater had obviously read Ian McEwan's book. I noticed meaningful whispers during small, seemingly insignificant scenes or when a new character was introduced. Even before something sad or terrible happened, there would always be a collective intake of breath, because these people knew it was coming. You could just tell that for some of the people in the theater, every little detail carried so much more weight and importance. And I felt for these people.
It is an unsettling and vulnerable position to be in when you watch a movie adaptation of a favorite novel for the first time. Yet speaking personally, time and time again I will stand in line and pay the nine dollars to see a movie version of a beloved book, knowing full well I will leave two hours later feeling vaguely disappointed at best, heartbroken at worst. And it's like the old cliche, being unable to look away from a car wreck. Because you have to watch it, no matter how many times you've been disappointed in a movie version of a book, you can't hep but hope they'll get it right this time, somehow the filmmakers will find a way to do the impossible, translate something from page to screen without losing any of its integrity or beauty. If you love a book, you're always going to be tempted by the chance to see all of these scenes and characters made into reality. But the problem is, a movie will never be the same as a book. It's can't be, hence the two different mediums. It can be a great, Oscar-winning film, but if it's made from a book you truly love, there will be something missing. If they do a really good job, maybe it'll just be a tiny subplot or line of dialogue that's gone. You'll feel a little cheated but you can still walk away positive. But if the filmmakers do the unthinkable, and do a careless, shoddy job with the adaptation, then it's like watching someone take a beloved friend and make her over into Britney Spears, or listening to your favorite song remade by Hannah Montana. It's unsettling. It's heartbreaking.
I love books, and I also love movies. Reasonably I should be able to love a book and love the movie version equally. But I can only really enjoy movie adaptation of books I just like. And sometimes if this is the case I'll even like the film better. For me The Devil Wears Prada book was just so-so, but I found the movie to be an improvement, infused with a new kind of warmth and kindness where the book was simply petty and often cruel.
But for books I truly love, well then it's just hopeless. I've gone to see every Harry Potter movie in theaters, each time thinking, maybe, just maybe, they'll come close. And sometimes they do (the third and fifth films come to mind), but even those very good films can in no way
stand up to the books I love so dearly. A tiny moment like Harry joyfully telling the Dursleys at the end of third book about his new godfather, the escaped "murderer", may seem insignificant and extraneous to the filmmakers, as well as to the vast majority of people who watch the movies, but for me to not have that moment in the movie left me unsatisfied. And it's like that for all of the Harry Potter movies, as well as all other beloved book to movie adaptations. I go to see these movies and find myself flinching or cringing every time something I love is missing or changed, even as I can enjoy the visual thrill of seeing the worlds I know so well inside of my head come to life before me on the screen. It's a very conflicted process. Common sense would tell me to stop going to see film versions of my favorite books, yet I know I never will. I'll get excited by the preview, and convince myself that this time will be different. Although if they ever make movie versions of A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius or The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, I might just have to take a Xanax beforehand. Otherwise I could very well end up shouting things at the screen.
So one more thing about Atonement. There's this shot about two-thirds of the way through, a five minute long uninterrupted tracking shot that reveals the hundreds of thousands of British soldiers at Dunkirk, waiting for evacuation. It's staggering. It's one of those rare movie scenes that is so vast and so devastating that you know it will stay with you. It kept making me think of the scene in Gone with the Wind when Scarlett goes to the train station and the camera pans back to reveal the wounded soldiers, and then it keeps panning, and keeps panning, until the screen is filled with an impossible number of wounded men. I remember watching that for the first time when I was little, and even though it's a movie with carefully constructed sets and well applied make-up, I cried like I was watching something real. The scene in Atonement is a lot like that, so chaotic and large scale that you can't compartmentalize it as just another movie scene. It gets under your skin.
So those are the thoughts sparked by seeing Atonement. I heartily recommend it to anyone (just really, be prepared to cry). Yet I will put out the disclaimer that I recommend it purely as a film, not as a book adaptation. I understand that even a film as well made and well acted as Atonement, could be a disaster for someone who really loves the book.

please watch this

I absolutely love Michael Cera. I've loved him since he was George Michael in Arrested Development (single tear running down my cheek in remembrance of that late, great show), and I loved him in Superbad. I can't wait to see Juno when it finally comes to Richmond. Quite simply I think he's hilarious. There are very few actors that can make me laugh so much by doing so little. So you can imagine my delight when I discovered a website called clarkandmichael.com which was created by Mr. Cera himself along with a friend. There are ten little episodes of the "Clark and Michael show" and they are brilliant. I know because as soon as I watched the first one I couldn't stop and I proceeded to watch the remaining nine in one sitting and giggle all the way. The closest I could describe it is Flight of the Concords minus the accents, plus a really bad idea for a sitcom, plus Los Angeles, multiplied by all of these amazing cameos (any series that incorporates David Cross and Sam from Freaks and Geeks blows my mind and reaches the highest maximum level of awesomenicity) Freaks and Geeks and Arrested Development are two of my favorite shows and both were sadly canceled much, much too soon before their time. So it gives me no endless source of pleasure that both are living on through collaborations between the very talented members of their casts. So please, if you find yourself needing an escape from family this holiday and want to hole up in front of your laptop for a few hours, go to clarkandmichael.com and enjoy.

they're coming back!

Starting in January my nightly routine will finally settle back into place! My future husbands, er, umm, my favorite fake news comedians Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert will resume their shows January 7th!!!! (strike or no strike) Until the bleak past two months of no new episodes of either show, I didn't realize just how dependent I was on the one hour of Comedy Central between eleven and midnight. But especially during the school semester it's as much a part of my nightly routine as brushing my teeth or a glass of milk and sugar-free Milanos (before the teeth brushing I assure you). The shows let me wind down in bed, giggle a lot and smack my head in mutual exasperation at the stupidity of the media and world leaders. Sure, I can get my news solely from other sources, but there's something about the Daily Show and the Colbert Report that supplements the regular news or at least softens it enough that I don't start immediately collecting items for my hermit hut. I can read the news online at ten p.m. and either cry, fume or cry and fume simultaneously (this combination seems to happen most often). But then like clockwork I can turn my television to the Daily Show and with one punch line or silly visual gag there's order in the world again. Because suddenly there's someone else out there to share my fuming/crying attitude, except this person is a talented and awesome comedian who can take all of that frustration and anxiety and expose the absurdity that's the source of it all (or if there's no absurdity in the situation itself then at least the media's reaction to it). The news often leaves me speechless and teetering on the brink of cynicism. And some might say that the Daily Show and the Colbert Report are products of cynicism and bitterness. But I disagree. These shows are vestiges of humor and sanity in a world very often lacking both. Satirists have thrived in society for a reason. A silly joke reveals folly to remind us of the opposite of that folly, the common human decency and hope that are often coated in so many mounds of (pardon my french) political and media bullshit. It's true that The Daily Show and the Colbert Report are ultimately just television shows. The world obviously runs along without them. But in my own little life, they allow me to go to bed most nights believing that maybe the world isn't so upside down after all. And on the really bad nights, the nights when even a funny show can't make a situation seem redeemable, they at least distract me with a laugh. So that is why I'm counting down until January 7th. Because my little life needs Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, or at least until world peace is established, poverty is eliminated, politicians become incapable of manipulations or deceit, the environment is saved and all of the nuclear weapons on Earth are dismantled and scientists discover how to turn the spare parts into cures for all of the world's diseases. So until all of that happens I'll prefer my nights capped off with Jon and Stephen. It's a little late so pardon the folksiness of my next sentence. But they are the proverbial sugar to make the medicine of the news go down. And with them I am able to go to bed drugged and happy.

comfort cooking

So this past weekend I made my first, honest-to-God, from scratch, Southern meal. I made it for some of my best Richmond friends to celebrate being home for Christmas, but at the same time some of my motives were selfish. I also cooked to bask in the beauty and detectability of Charleston cuisine, and by extension Charleston itself. I will be away for almost a month, but that's no reason I shouldn't enjoy fresh crab cakes and home-cooked buttermilk biscuits; one bite of each takes me straight to Hominy Grill breakfast or dinner at Fleet Landing. Now Richmond has its own wonderful cuisine, fully embedded in the south (for all of you people who may say that Richmond is in the north, don't even tempt me to list the various reasons why this city is definitively Dixie). But food from the deep south is different, especially food from the coastal deep south, and in the three and a half years I've been in Charleston I've grown to love it, everything from shrimp n' grits to boiled peanuts to fried green tomatoes. So it was both a challenge and a thrill to prepare a meal completely from my new favorite cookbook (the Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook). It was an even bigger challenge to make the entire meal without my mom in the next room to pester with questions about how to work the food processor or what exactly the difference is between flat leaf and regular parsley. So without further ado the line up:
1) cheese straws - This was made slightly difficult, because I couldn't figure out how to assemble my mom's food processor (damn you Cuisinart and your safety measures that make everything so complicated, who really cares about the occasional amputated finger). So despite having to make the dough in a blender (an interesting experience mandating the need to dig around in the bottom of the thing every few minutes with a fork while simultaneously crossing my fingers that the blender wouldn't explode from the sheer exertion it seemed to be putting out), they turned out great. I loved the unexpected spice the crushed red pepper gave the recipe, and the way the straws went from soft dough to slightly crispy crackers in only ten minutes.
2) Buttermilk Bird's Head biscuits. They're called bird's head biscuits because they're little as opposed to the massive "cat's head" biscuits you see a lot. Again these would have been a tad easier with a food processor but they turned out just fine without one. Although I am really an equal opportunity biscuit eater and will eat almost anything even resembling a biscuit. So I'm probably not the best to judge.
3) Mac n' Cheese. The Lee Bros. stick the Mac n' Cheese recipe in the vegetable section, and I love them for it. But like everything in their cookbook and like a lot of southern food in general, Mac n' Cheese only looks simple and unrefined. I think southern food doesn't get a lot of credit because food snobs look at things like grits or fried chicken and assume they known everything about it. They don't see any complexity or nuance. But really good southern cooking is full of complexity and nuance. There's just no showiness or arrogance. Southern cooks don't have to hide behind layers of fanciness or trendiness (all of those restaurants serving foam as food i'm looking at you). The best southern food uses innovation without for a second losing tradition. It's simple, but never ordinary. But I digress. As far as Mac n' Cheese the Lee Brothers recipe sticks with the oodles and oodles of cheese and elbow macaroni that makes Mac n' Cheese familiar, but incorporates extra sharp cheddar and high quality Swiss or Gruyere cheese as well as Bay Leaves to give it a kick. Mmm.
4) Creamed Corn. So I must confess I bought canned corn kernels. The recipe calls for fresh ears but apparently corn is seasonal. I really am not all that up on my seasonal vegetables. This recipe was as easy as pie, basically just combined a teensy bit of flour and butter to make a paste like substance, then pour in the corn and cream and simmer the whole mess until its done. Another comfort food that some may turn their noses up at, but just as tasty as any fancy side dish.
5) Crab Cakes. These were slightly intimidating because I had never made crab cakes before and they are one of my favorite foods so I was a little worried about screwing up. But they turned out great. I'm with the Lee brothers in their view that the best crab cakes let the crab shine through and don't cover it with deep frying or loads of breading. Basically they're just crab, mayo, a little bit of mustard, a tiny bit of bread crumbs, parsley and green onions. I sauted them in a pan until they were slightly brown and then baked them five minutes. Voila. Oh but the one catch is fresh crab is a must; no canned stuff. Although it is a pain in the ass to go through and get the shells out, my least favorite part about making meals with crab in it.

So I was supposed to make a red-velvet cake to top off the whole southern extravaganza but sadly one afternoon in the kitchen + 5 other dishes + one, two-handed me = does not a home cooked desert make. I'll save that one for later. But regardless everything turned out great. I love to cook period, but there's something about cooking what's familiar that makes me feel safe. When I'm in Charleston and missing Richmond and home I like to make my mom's chicken chili or tuna pasta salad. There's just this instant, visceral sense of comfort from making food I grew up with. I took it for granted for most of my childhood that my mother put a home cooked meal on the table almost every night. It is true that in a lot of ways a cooking legacy for women is the result of years of limited opportunities. But I don't think it's that simple. I think women took something that might have at one time been a burden or obligation and we made it our own. My mother learned to cook from her mother and I learned to cook from my own and there's something incredibly powerful and rewarding about that chain. It's kind of beautiful in a way, how something that might have one time been ugly and oppressing has turned into a heritage and a source of pride for a lot of women. I love the thought that years from now, when I have my own children, all it's going to take is making a pound cake or making tuna salad (the way my grandma does, with chopped pickles, chopped celery and plenty of lemon juice) to remind me of where I came from, and the strong, beautiful women in my family who came before me and lived through a time when they might not have had a choice about putting a meal on the table. It's the same way cooking lowcountry food or even simply southern food will always remind me of who I am. Yes, cooking is a way to eat. But I think anyone who truly loves to cook, who loves to find new recipes or rediscover old ones knows it more than that. It's a scribbled recipe, faithfully kept for years in a wooden recipe box by my mother, now typed up on clean white paper, kept just as faithfully, but with a whole new appreciation, by her daughter.