The South Beach Diet Quick & Easy Cookbook, by Arthur Agatston, MD

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South Beach Quick & Easy The South Beach Diet Quick & Easy Cookbook
by Arthur Agatston, M.D.
Get it from Amazon.

Both of my kitchen sinks are full tonight, because while I was willing to cook, and I emptied the dishwasher I wasn’t in the mood to reload it, but that’s okay, because the one article that’s due tomorrow has been written.

Meanwhile, I can wax rhapsodic about this cookbook. I was looking for quick-meal cookbooks that were also healthy, and found this one at Half Price Books. So far, I’ve made about ten things from it – tonight we had roasted asparagus, and chicken breasts stuffed with spinach and chevre – and I’ve liked everything I’ve made.

More importantly, Fuzzy’s eating what I make, without complaining, even when it isn’t orange.

So, it’s a situation made of win.

When you’re trying to eat healthier, having a cookbook that is simple and doesn’t require hours of prep is essential. I’m all for elaborate meals, but I have a life, you know? If you’re a health conscious person with a busy schedule, I’d recommend this book.

Goes well with a shrinking waistline.

Feisty Old Ladies

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Unexpected Mrs. Pollifax

The other day when I was at Borders, ostensibly shopping for the books I need for my Algonkian homework, but coming home $149 less solvent, the various Mother’s Day displays reminded me of Mrs. Pollifax.

If you don’t know who Mrs. P. is, she’s the fictional creation of Dorothy Gilman, and America’s version of Miss Marple, only with much more modern sensibilities. She wasn’t so fussy that she had to have the latest top wrinkle cream, but she did like hats and scarves, and while she preferred a notepad, she grew to understand computers.

I haven’t visited with Mrs. P since I was 18 or 19 years old and my mother and I spend a summer passing her novels back and forth, but I confess there’s a bit of guilt in my nostalgia, because while the books are lovely cozy mysteries, I always wished my own grandmother, who was feisty in her own way, was as fiercely independent as Mrs. P.

I’m going to have to revisit the series soon. Perhaps later this summer.

A Question: Can’t You See I’m Reading

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To those with spouses, partners and roommates who read:

Fuzzy is a generally sweet guy, but when he’s reading and I need to talk to him about something, he gets all glarey and grumbly and says, “Can’t you see I’m reading?”

Yet if I’m reading, and clearly absorbed in my book, magazine, or website, and he needs to discuss some burning issue like adding more laptop memory to his brand new computer, it is somehow okay for him to interrupt me, and not okay for me to shoot back his favorite response, “Can’t you see I’m reading?”

Does this imbalance exist in your relationship, as well?
If so, what do you do about it?

Star Trek: Exodus by Josepha Sherman & Susan Schwartz

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Star Trek Exodus
Star Trek: Exodus Book One of the Vulcan’s Soul trilogy
by Josepha Sherman & Susan Schwartz
Get it from Amazon.

Fans of Star Trek have always wondered exactly what it was like when a significant number of Vulcans packed up their belongings like so much Delsey luggage, and moved away to eventually become Romulans. In this trilogy, we find out.

It’s a story that runs in two timelines at once. The first takes place in the days of Surak, and shows us the acts that led up to and caused the Sundering, and the second shows us Spock, Saavik, Uhura, and Chekov rushing off with cooperation from modern Romulans to face down a little known enemy called the Watraii, who are as obscure as they are dangerous.

Both story lines have a mix of action sequences and character sections, which allow us not only to catch up the the characters we know, but also grow to like the original characters we meet.

A further review will be posted when I finish reading the trilogy.

Goes well with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and ice cold milk.

Kushiel’s Scion by Jacqueline Carey

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Kushiel's Scion
Kushiel’s Scion, by Jacqueline Carey
Get it at Amazon.

Re-visiting the world of Terre d’Ange after more than a year since I last read about Phedre’ and Joscelin, and their adopted son Prince Imriel could have been a jarring experience – after all, Imri in this novel is no longer a child, afraid of monsters lurking beneath the bedroom furniture, but a young man about to attain true adulthood.

Jacqueline Carey’s world building is so detailed, however, that stepping back into Montreve, and the various other locations, was just like stepping into the kitchen of an old friend. Well, if that kitchen was in a time hundreds of years before now, and part of a society built on the concept of Love as thou wilt.

In this, the fourth novel of the Kushiel’s Legacy series, young Imriel is caught between being “good” and being true to himself, as a member of Kushiel’s line, and coming to grips with a childhood of abuse, and the darker desires he was born with. Amidst all this teen angst, there is a quest to find the source of a specific school of knowledge, and much ado with the ladies of the Court.

All in all, it’s a rollicking adventure that acts as the lead-in to the next two books in the series.

Goes well with a tankard of ale, hearty fresh-baked bread, and a good sharp cheddar.

Lit-Ra-Chur (Booking Through Thursday)

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When somebody mentions “literature,” what’s the first thing you think of? (Dickens? Tolstoy? Shakespeare?)

Do you read “literature” (however you define it) for pleasure? Or is it something that you read only when you must?

I’ve been pretty insular lately, so I thought I’d take a break from writing medicare advantage articles to actually participate in a meme. It’s not Thursday, but if you don’t tell, I won’t either.

Literature, at least in my personal lexicon, does include Shakespeare, Dickens and Tolstoy, as well as Melville, Fitzgerald, and Hawthorne, but it also includes the Bronte sisters, Austen, Woolf, Cather, Alcott, and George Sand. Not to mention Dickinson, Emerson, Whitman, Plath and Thoreau. I don’t believe something has to be part of a “great books” program in order to be literature, but there’s a reason the classics are, well, classic.

Staying power is one part of what distinguishes literature from, say, general fiction, but it’s also not the only factor. I believe literature is still being created. Consider the beauty of the language in Memoirs of a Geisha, for example, or the works of A. S. Byatt.

As to what I read for pleasure. I read a bit of everything. I like the classics. Curling up with Wuthering Heights or Jane Eyre on a dismal weekend evening is just as restful as breezing through a couple of Star Trek novels, and the latter are often just as provocative as any of the works I studied in school.

As I write this, I’m in the middle of two books – one is the middle novel in a trilogy of Trekfiction, the other is the latest in the Kushiel’s Legacy series by Jacqueline, and I’m about to begin reading Pride and Prejudice.

As a writer, I learn from everything I read. Not just the stuff that we used to write essays about.

August Rush

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August RushAugust Rush
Available on DVD, HD DVD, and Blu-Ray
Get it at Amazon

Fuzzy and I haven’t yet invested in a plasma tv and a plasma mount with which to suspend it from the wall or ceiling, but that doesn’t stop us from enjoying movies. Recently, we rented August Rush because we never managed to see it in a theater, and we both loved it.

August Rush is an urban fantasy about a cellist and a rock star who meet, have a one-night stand, and are forced apart. She (the cellist) gets pregnant and her over protective father puts the baby up for adoption while she is in the hospital after an accident. Eleven years later, the child, a musical prodigy who has refused to leave an orphanage because he believes he can hear his parents, decides he has to find them.

We then follow the cellist as she searches for the child she never agreed to give up, and never knew was alive, the rock star, who is searching for the cellist, unaware there is a child, and the boy, Evan, who is given the name August Rush by a street musician who takes him in, and becomes the catalyst for the blooming of a musical prodigy.

Of course the movie ends with August conducting an urban rhapsody (symphony for orchestra and wind chimes) in Central Park, and there’s every sign his parents will find him, especially since he’s run into his father already, they just weren’t aware.

It’s a charming tale, with great music and wonderful performances from all three principals – Freddy Highmore (August) Keri Russell (Lyla, the cellist), and John Rhys Myers (as the rock star).

Goes well with a dreamsicle, and a hot summer night.

Crispy

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Sitting at Cracker Barrel with Fuzzy yesterday morning, each of us reading, I watched him eat bacon, and thought, “the bacon I made with the microwave bacon cooker was better than this.”

A few months ago, I received a totally enclosed microwave bacon cooker, and even though we don’t eat bacon all that often, I was incredibly happy to have it. You see, this unit, which looks like a cross between a sifter and a water filter pitcher, is the only such contraption that IS totally enclosed.

It’s also really easy to use. You drape the bacon over the internal blades, close and fasten the lid, and stick it in the microwave on “high” for about thirty second per slice (a little more or less depending on the desired end-result and the thickness of your bacon), then unlock, and pull the blades out, leaving all the nasty grease in the well at the bottom. You can then pour off the grease (into a safe container, never down the sink), and make more, or just use hot soapy water to clean the cooker again for next time.

I don’t often wax rhapsodic about appliances, but this microwave bacon cooker really is as wonderful as it sounds.

In fact, as I was reading this morning, and came across characters talking about bacon for breakfast, I thought, “Oh, I want to have some, too.”

And I did.

Lost in a Good Book

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I often find that if I’m really into a book, I come away from my reading time feeling disoriented if the weather or the mood doesn’t fit with whatever I just read.

Right now, for example, I’m halfway through Jacqueline Carey’s Kushiel’s Scion, the fourth in the Kushiel series, and there’s been some mention of an attendant who recently came from one of the houses in the Night Court, and while, for this person, the experience was something akin to attending one of our massage therapy schools, those familiar with these books will understand that such a place is more like a very elite brothel, though all arts are taught, not just sexual ones.

I mention this because when I put the book down, I was half expecting to see candlelight and fabric hangings instead of my very modern surroundings.

I’ll be reviewing this book over at All Things Girl, along with it’s immediate sequel, sometime in the next couple of months.

For now, though, I really want to fill the tub with water and bubbles, light candles, and read the other half.