home cooking

After our gluttonous, inaugural week of eating out, Mr. Beeton and I have finally gotten back to the basics - home cooking. We food shopped yesterday afternoon after a quick trip to the Newseum (college freshmen in tow), and when we got home, I baked a loaf of banana bread from The Martha Stewart Cookbook: Collected Recipes for Everyday. I'm too lazy to type up the recipe now (too much reading this morning!), but thankfully, the bloggers at The Sisters Cafe did. So, you can find it there. Generally, the recipes in this cookbook are very, very complicated, sometimes calling for lavender sugar and other strange ingredients that we just don't have on hand. But this one is rather simple and produces the best banana bread I've ever eaten (I think it's the sour cream). It's the recipe that convinced me that maybe, just maybe, I could be a good cook. And, this week, it's the one that's gotten us back to better eating.

Keep sweeping, Martha

yes we can

The entire city is gearing up for quite a weekend. I came home from a tough, first week back at school and parked the car right in front of our building. We're not moving it until Thursday. We've heard lots of estimates about how many people will be flooding in. And, we've also received numerous alerts from the University about how to conduct yourself when downtown. The next few days will be interesting.

We started off the weekend with homemade sushi. Mr. Beeton knew I had a rough week, so while I was teaching yesterday, he went out on his scooter to pick up crab sticks, cucumber, carrots, and the ingredients for spicy mayo. After walking Ella, we spread everything out on the dining room table and made our rolls. The process was fun, and the rolls were delicious. 

The rest of the weekend will most likely consist of eating out.  (Don't tell Suze or Oprah.) I think it's the safest way to head into the city and see just how many people are around. And, then, on Tuesday, we'll be stopping in at Napoleon Bistro before heading to the University's unofficial inaugural ball. 

Keeping sweeping, Martha

it's not a good thing

Yesterday, I was supposed to receive a free Oral B electric toothbrush from Martha. Instead, I was reprimanding a student for using his Blackberry in class. 

As you know Mr. Beeton had gotten two tickets to see Martha Stewart's show, but, as luck would have it, we were scheduled to attend on the first day of the spring semester. I thought it wouldn't matter. I'd get someone to cover. Professors skip out on class all the time for less worthy reasons. But the guilt got to me. And so, we wrote Martha and told her that we would not be able to make it.

Mr. Beeton and I both worried that we'd not only miss out on Martha but on one of her celebrity guests - though our number one pick - Jennifer Garner - would definitely not be there since she delivered her baby. But, Peter Arnell was, and he's just as great. I tried to find a clip on YouTube to post, but apparently, he hasn't reached a popular audience as of yet.

Keep sweeping (even when others are texting), Martha

sprint-time

I should be working on my syllabus or reworking my Blackboard site. After all, classes start this Tuesday. But yesterday, when I read my horoscope, it said this:

So instead, I am shredding old bills and packing away the Christmas tree. Who am I to argue with the stars?

Keep sweeping, Martha

the world ends here

I've been catching up with old friends recently. In part because the winter break has allowed me time to email - a luxury I don't have during the semester when students and other faculty members bombard me with important (and, more often than not, not so important) electronic messages. And, partly because I've had a falling out with a really dear friend of mine, which has made me want to cling to truly loyal friends from my past even more. 

This particular friend who I've reconnected with was not just a friend; she was my roommate of four (!) years during undergraduate. It's weird to say, but I knew she would be a friend before I even knew her. In undergraduate, I worked in the financial aid office the summer before my freshmen year. It was part of my "package," an incentive to woo me attend this small, liberal arts school. One day, I was filing information on all the "special" scholars, the twelve or so incoming freshmen with outstanding high school records who were awarded pretty significant financial packages. I was one of those students, relieved that all my high school nerdy-ness had finally paid off (I missed a few hotel parties but so what?). One file, in particular, caught my eye; the name was unique, and when I picked it up, it almost felt like there was some sort of electric charge to it. When I got home that afternoon, I found out that that girl was assigned to be my college roommate. We roomed together all four years through the good and the bad, and we've remained friends since.

Why take this trip down memory lane? I emailed my old roommate to discuss the details of another college friend's destination wedding - a trip none of our college friends, at this point in time, are able to make. In those exchanges, I started discussing my new project - a scholarly examination of past and present food memoirs - and my old roommate, being an editor, shared her experiences with Amanda Hesser's work. She also sent me a poem that she and her family included in a cookbook that they made for friends and relatives one Christmas. It captures so much, so perfectly - "Perhaps the World Ends Here" by Joy Harjo.

Keep sweeping, Martha