January 2010

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We watch a lot of movies Under a Red Roof.  Though I think you probably know that.  This holiday season was no exception, save it may have been slightly more exceptional in volume.  Golly, did we spend a lot of time in front of the telly (in my defense, I did a lot of reading, too!).  Here are my favorites, in no particular order.

This is a real gem.  Peter, a young man nearly finished with med school, learns he will not be getting the residency he hoped for after a serious blunder with a fake patient.  Depressed, he goes to a bar to see said “patient.”  She is his polar opposite, and he is swept away by her, quite literally, hours away from home, to hers.  It is a world of counterculture pot smokers and growers, kooky and angry, living as close to the land as possible.  From here, we see the interplay between these very different worlds, learning the benefits and deficits of each.

I loved it.  As is expected from the BBC, it is light and funny (loud peals of laughter caused the hubster wonder what was afoot in the tv room), sometimes sad, and very engaging.  The cast, costumes, and sets are top notch, too.

I was surprised by this one, fearing the worst for some reason.  It is an alluring tale of first love (and poetry), the tragedy of loss, and our varying and sometimes highly unusual ways of coping.  Australian and beautifully filmed, I might add.

This one is a bit wacky and sometimes gross, really gross, while being totally engrossing (I couldn’t resist).  A famous DJ suddenly loses his hearing and copes in solitude by taking copious amounts of drugs, eschewing them all together, and learning to feel the music instead.

“I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore!”  That line is all I knew of this rather eerily prescient film about editorial news programs.  I really liked it, even though some of the dialogue was very dated.  1976!

The hubster and I saw this waay back when we were dating, having turned on the television thirty minutes into it, wondering what the h-e-double-hockey-sticks was going on, and laughing all the while at Albert Brooks and Rip Torn.  Meryl Streep is delightful and carefree as Julia, a character who likes to eat.  This reminds me of someone else…

Katharine Hepburn received an Oscar nomination for her role as Jane Hudson in this lovely film from 1955.  A lonely woman, she’s on holiday in Venice, looking for beauty, adventure, and companionship.  She finds it, though not quite as she expected.  It is a sweet and sad story, filled with great fashion and fantastic sights.

Being a revolutionary is about patience and education, even for those watching (it is nearly five hours long).  Everything happens in good time.  Follow Che through his first victory in Cuba and his final defeat in Bolivia.   I rather liked it, but for such a fascinating character, I would have preferred seeing his whole life.  There was time enough, I think.

Harbour and his perpetually suicidal brother Wilbur’s lives are changed for the better when Alice and her daughter Mary enter their disorderly book shop.   This one is sweet and sad, too, with a couple of surprising plot twists.  An aside, a dialogue representing the shorthand of sixteen years of married life:

Hubster:  Who is that (Alice)?

Me: She’s the one with the ronnie (female moustache) from that Irish film (Intermission).

Hubster: Right!

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Chaos

We do not grow absolutely, chronologically.  We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly.  We grow partially.  We are relative.  We are mature in one realm, childish in another.  The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present.  We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.

Anais Nin

We, probably like most of you, gentle readers, did a lot of eating over the holidays, A LOT.  Mostly sweets.  I think I am sugared out.  Gosh, I hope I am sugared out.  I really would like to have less of it in my life, after all.  My goal this year is to eat one sweet treat a week, no more.  Please do a little dance, say a prayer, whatever you can, to send the support I need to get-r-done.  I’d appreciate it.  So, in keeping with this desire, my first recipe of the year will not be a sweet one, though the next three or four are likely to be.  Baby steps!

So eggplant puffs, it is.  Are you an eggplant eater?  Me, not so much.  I normally find the texture and flavor icky, slimy and just plain weird, save in baba ganouj.  That is definitely do-able.  So why this recipe appealed to me in the first place, I have no idea.  A willingness to branch out, perhaps.  Thankfully, it worked!  The hubster and I found these so very satisfying that we’ve got another eggplant on the ready.  Now that is saying something.  Try them for yourself – you might be surprised, too.

adapted from Party Food for Vegetarians by Celia Brooks Brown

1 large eggplant, about 1 pound

olive oil

1/2 cup pine nuts

20 kalamata olives, pitted and chopped

4 tablespoons dry bread crumbs

6 tablespoons grated parmesan cheese

2 cloves garlic, peeled and diced fine

1 egg, beaten

Preheat the oven to 450.  Cut the eggplant in half lengthwise and brush with olive oil.  Roast for about 30 minutes, until lightly browned and very soft.  Let cool, peel off the skin and discard (better yet, compost!).  Chop the flesh finely.  Reduce the temperature to 400.

Mix the eggplant, pine nuts, olives, bread crumbs, parmesan cheese, garlic, and egg together in a bowl.  Let rest for 10-15 minutes.

Liberally oil a large cookie sheet.  Form the mixture into bite size balls and place on sheet.  Bake for 15-20 minutes, until lightly golden and puffy.  Serve hot.

Variation – I think these would also make a fine burger-type sandwich filling.  Form into patties and bake until browned.

**I tried the patties, and they were great (on a bun with mayo, grainy mustard, Laughing Cow cheese, and spinach)!  Be sure to grease the pan REALLY well – they’re a bit more sticky when in patty form.

Enjoy!

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Hello everyone!  I hope 2010 is off to a marvelous start in your neck of the woods.  We’ve enjoyed a delightful combination of activity, amusement, introspection, and joy.  So much so, that I don’t quite know where to begin.  Some photos, perhaps then, of our red roof house under a blanket of snow.

We were surprised by it, for there was only rain in the forecast.  Sitting in the living room at Bridget’s, it came on rather delicately, a few giant flakes until there were piles of them, and so much laughter and giddiness (Snowsuits!  Boots! Hats! Mittens!) on the part of children and adults that my heart filled with joy at their excitement.  Snow in the Pacific Northwest is quite different than anywhere I’ve experienced it.  The tiniest bit inspires paroxysms of glee!

Back at our house, it was peaceful, of the variety that only a blanket of snow can bring, and the light of evening, exquisite in its beauty.

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