domestic drudge

The other day we were eating our dinner outside. It was unseasonably warm, and we decided to get out the porch furniture so that we could enjoy the nice weather. Our neighbors were on the porch as well. They asked what we were eating, and we told them chicken and artichoke stew. The mom replied, gesturing to her son and daughter,"Wow. I bet you wish you were eating that, kids."

Now, chicken and artichoke stew is nothing fancy. You cook the chicken in a skillet, add some carrots and onions, add some flour and chicken broth, and finish with the artichokes. We usually have it with rice. But her comment got me thinking about how unpleasant this whole social distancing thing must be for people who hate to cook. I feel like - COVID-19 or not - dinner is the bright part of our day. I look forward to making something - new or old - having a glass of wine and chatting over dinner. If you didn't like cooking, though, this whole corona thing, which is already pretty unpleasant, would be downright awful.

So, for anyone wishing for inspiration, I give you the link to Martha Stewart's Everyday Foods (the magazine from which we got the chicken and artichoke stew recipe) - https://www.marthastewart.com/274264/everyday-food-recipes. We've gotten a lot of good recipes from here, including this one which we have with margaritas - a necessity during a pandemic.

Keep sweeping,
Martha

summer sickness

I've been struggling with a virus this week and ended up at the Minute Clinic getting treated for pink eye. Yuck. So here's something to make me smile, courtesy of Cherry Bombe.

Keep sweeping,

Martha

'tis the season

I've been feeling a little down lately. I think the holidays are catching up with me. I was going strong for a while. We decorated the house with our Moravian star, outdoor lights, and window candles. We've been listening to Christmas carols at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, singing along loudly. And, I've drunk more than my share of gingerbread lattes. But, this week, this week, I crashed. It wasn't just the fact that TWO tree lots we visited were closed and that we ended up getting our tree at Home Depot where a bird pooped on my head. And, it also wasn't the fact that while we were enjoying blueberry pancakes at IHOP our Christmas tree - strapped to the roof of our car - was getting rained on in a torrential downpour. It certainly wasn't the fact that our credit card got declined at the IHOP for insufficient funds due to our overzealous holiday shopping. Instead, I think I've come down with Elf on the Shelf Syndrome.

Let me explain.

If it hadn't been for Petula Dvorak and her article in The Washington Post this past December I probably wouldn't have the language for what's been ailing me. But, when I read her article, it all made sense. Anyone who knows me knows that one of my deepest desires is to be "together." I want containers filled with crayons. I want to organize my jewelry in a spice rack. I want to be able to find my house keys. For goodness sake, why do you think I take my pen name from "Martha Stewart" and "Mrs. Beeton!" Those women have(had) it together. Yet sadly, there are no labeled containers of sugar here. No toile covered ironing boards on my watch. In this house, chaos seems to reign. And, the holidays are, for me, all about magnifying my inadequacies.

(Yes, that's laundry on the couch along with a frog, a Santa, some ornaments, bubble wrap, and a vacuum to show my good intentions.) 

As one friend once described me: "Caroline has the uncanny ability to channel Bridget Jones (which means, while she might not actively seek out mischief and embarrassment, it finds her nonetheless)." Yup. That's me in a nutshell.

Dvorak's article helped to explain things a bit, though. If my stress is ten fold during a normal holiday season, imagine how intensified my anxiety becomes as a new parent. Not only must I find the perfect gifts for everyone on my list, but I've also got to find the perfect gifts for a pretty special little someone. And, I've got to secretly assume the role of that magical, marvelous "Ho Ho" - all while feeling pretty un-magical and un-marvelous. And now, according to Dvorak, I'm facing off not only against my inner Martha but also the crazy over-achieving parents she mentions in her article - the ones whose elves are having pillow fights and baking cookies! What's a mediocre mom to do?

Well, I think tonight this mom is going to stop sending her husband out to the store to find Christmas lights for the tree in the hopes that they can finally (FINALLY!) decorate it. And I may also just ignore this chaos in favor of a glass of wine and an episode of Revenge. I know the elf is watching. But quite frankly, I don't care.

Keep sweeping, Martha

household management

For those of you who know me outside of the blogosphere, you know that my real name isn't Martha Beeton. Rather, "Martha Beeton" is a pen name I've made up combining two of my loves - Martha Stewart and Isabella Beeton. The first is a twenty-first century household name; the second, not so much. So, for those of you who have yet to acquaint yourself with the master of household management, I present you with this link.

Keep sweeping, Martha

going public

Mr. Beeton wisely informed me that in linking to my sister-in-law's blog in my last post that my anonymity would no longer be in tact. You may have probably guessed from reading this blog that my name isn't Martha Beeton (in fact, that's a nom de plume I came up with from two of my idols - Martha Stewart and Mrs. Beeton of the book of household management), my husband's name isn't Mr., my dog's name isn't Ella (shortened from Nigella, another domestic goddess), and my new baby's name isn't Baby. I suppose when I started this blog I was afraid of getting dooced, but then I quickly realized that aside from my occasional complaint about having too many papers to read I haven't really written anything controversial enough to get me fired from my job at The First President University. And, now that Baby Beeton is here and we're taking pictures left and right, I want to be able to post them without linking to my Flickr account. Like this one here...


Isn't it cute?

It's from our 48-hour stay in Ocean City, New Jersey where we spent some time visiting with my mom, dad, Auntie M, her Lord Boyfriend, my brother, his wife, and their darling Little M. We also got to see my Uncle T though, sadly, we missed visiting with my cousins from Maine because one of the kids had a bit of the stomach flu (we didn't think Baby Beeton could handle those germs right now). Though we didn't get to the beach (except to snap this shot), we did get to walk the boardwalk and pick up some salt water taffy from Shrivers.

Another highlight of our visit was Little M's love of Baby Beeton. You see, Little M is expecting a brother in September - for now nicknamed Baby Puddin' - so she was pleased as punch to be able to have a temporary little brother all to herself. She helped Baby Beeton take a bath; she read him stories; and she sweetly asked, "May I pat Baby Beeton on the head?" and "May I tickle Baby Beeton?" She's going to be a great big sister, and she's going to love her little brother just like I loved her dad - my little brother - when he was born. I hope they have as much fun playing pretend as we did (cue the Monkees soundtrack here).

Keep sweeping, Martha

wood-working

While there has been lots and lots of excitement this fall in the Beeton household, very little of that excitement has had to do with homekeeping. Instead, we've been enjoying time with new friends (Grapes With the Apes), old friends (a fabulous Washington and Lee 10 year reunion), and family (a happy 65th birthday at Old Ebbitt Grill). The fall has also been jam packed with regular old back to school madness (see here and here for previous examples of such), which is why our home renovations have come to a halt.

Until this past weekend, when Mr. Beeton and I decided to paint the woodwork in our guest room - a big move for us since we have been committed to keeping all the original trim original. But, we realized that in this one room in particular our best bet would be to go white. You see, this room is the one we deem our own little "crack den." When we first looked at the house, it was the room which had large black stains in the middle of floor (miraculously removed by our awesome floor refinishers). It also literally has dirt caked on the walls (I want to again apologize to K&D for making them sleep in that room when visiting!). And, the window sills looked rotted out. Our guess was that an air conditioner had leaked, causing the discoloration.

We really did want to try to keep the original wood in tact, but we also realized that painting all the woodwork white would immediately eliminate a major eyesore. So, on Saturday, I sanded the stained woodwork and painted the first coat. I think it's going to look terrific once we get the walls themselves painted a beautiful sea glass (thank you, Martha Stewart). Our other plan is to wallpaper the alcove in the room and install bookshelves. Should look good once all the work is finished.

Maybe come June? Now that would be exciting.

Keep sweeping, Martha

sweet and sour

As I may have mentioned, while I'm a homekeeper at heart, I'm an academic by day and spend most of the year teaching and writing about women's literature. With academia comes highs and lows - as with any job, I suspect. This summer (so far), I've been on one long high (despite the revise and resubmit letter I received today for an article about Sylvia Plath that I have written), working on a new project about food writing, specifically the work of women food writers.

While I suspected this summer would be all about reading about eating, it started off with a reminder that I haven't left my old love of chick lit behind. In early May, I received an email from Joanne Rendell, whose written a new book entitled Crossing Washington Square. Her work, from what I gathered, was chick lit about academics, which, of course, immediately appealed to me. And, her new novel, which will be released in early fall, is about a chick lit scholar and a Sylvia Plath scholar who find themselves at odds and are forced to confront some misconceptions that they have about one another and the literature they love. Joanne contacted me to see if I'd be interested in reading an advanced copy. Of course! I replied.

You see Sylvia Plath was the author who really launched my whole graduate career. I had enrolled in graduate school in English only because I desperately wanted to complete a Museum Studies degree and work in the education department of a museum upon graduating. At the graduate school that I attended, you were only allowed to receive a certificate in Museum Studies if you were enrolled in a degree program. I picked English because I loved to read. Naive, I know.

Something curious happened, though, as I sat in on classes and began to teach. I found out that I really wanted to be a professor. And I found myself thinking critically about literature in a way that I never had before. I wrote a paper on Sylvia Plath and The Bell Jar (which I've since revised more times than I can count and which is the ill-fated essay that I spoke of earlier); I got interested in food and literature; and I discovered chick lit - a contemporary women's genre which is all about consumption (food, sex, shopping). Despite discouraging remarks from an older, female faculty member who noted I'd never get anywhere writing about "beach reading" (shame on her! bad feminist!), I wrote my dissertation on chick lit, looking at British and American novels - from Bridget Jones's Diary to The Cigarette Girl - and analyzing the way in which the books engaged with consumer culture, particularly women's advice manuals. So, I found it freaky when Joanne said her new novel was about a Plath scholar and a chick lit scholar - my self, split, it seemed. But, her book wasn't freaky at all. It's actually very, very good and speaks - on a fictional level - to a lot of the issues that I discuss in my own work.

So... how did I arrive at food memoirs this summer? In my disseration (which later turned into a book - out in paperback this month!), I had a chapter devoted to domestic-advice publications, like Martha Stewart's Living. My current project is slowly growing out of that chapter as I search for interesting food memoirs to read and write about. I've got a whole stack in my back room right now that I'm waiting to devour. It should prove to be quite a yummy summer.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Finished reading The Professors' Wives' Club and Crossing Washington Square by Joanne Rendell. Also read Shark's Fin and Sichuan Pepper: A Sweet-Sour Memoir of Eating in China by Fuschia Dunlop.

holiday

Memorial Day Weekend...thai lettuce wraps, raw oysters with peppar vodka, and shared hamburgers. Tonight, we'll have falafel-coated shrimp. 

Happy Holiday!

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watched Star Trek and Gone Baby Gone.

may madness

May, so far, has been madness. Stacks of papers, sick dogs, rain, disappearing students who have magically reappeared, rain, last minute birthday parties which conflict with previous plans, more rain, and just general, all-around grumpiness.

In fact, things have been so bad that I resorted to making crumble last night - a dish reserved only for the special-est of occasions. To be exact, we had quite a delicious dinner - cider-glazed salmon, asparagus with ginger, and apple, strawberry, blueberry, and raspberry crumble. I think we hoped all the good cheer would bring the sun out. The salmon came from Molly Wizenberg's book A Homemade Life, which, if I haven't already raved about, I should. The crumble is a variation on a Martha Stewart recipe - though not a very creative variation. Her Apple-Blueberry Crisp calls for apples and blueberries; I used the four fruits listed above, topping it off with the crumble. Martha calls for 1 cup flour, 1/2 sugar, and 1 stick of butter to make the crumble, and it does the trick everytime. And the asparagus with ginger. You'll have to ask Mr. Beeton for the recipe for that one. But I suspect he stole it from Alice Waters.

And speaking of Mr. Beeton, it's his birthday today! We're headed to 1789 tonight to celebrate.

Keep sweeping, Martha

delicious

Let me confess. This weekend did not start out so well. It's the end of the semester, so I've got research projects to grade and source packets to sift through. Plus, I allowed myself to be convinced by a colleague that allowing students to do an optional rewrite of one of their earlier papers was a good idea. "Hardly anyone ever takes me up on it," she claimed. "But it's a great way to help students feel as though they have some control over their final grade." 

I had 22 students take me up on the offer. So... 41 research projects + 22 rewrites + 41 final papers = unhappy Mrs. Beeton.

There were some tears on Saturday morning. But, the sunshine melted them away as well as a stern scolding from Mr. Beeton. ("If you spent half as much time working as you do crying and complaining about work, then, maybe then, you'd make some progress." He's right.) So, I sorted through the source packets of one class and then allowed myself a long walk in the sunshine.

Mr. Beeton and I headed to Georgetown. We had some errands to run, and I wanted to show him the famed line at Georgetown Cupcake. They didn't disappoint. The line was almost around the block, filled with Georgetown students and young tourists who all seemed to think MTV's next reality show was being filmed in the District. After stops at H&M for a quick return, Kiehl's, and Aveda, we decided to stop in at Christ Opportunity shop on Wisconsin and then over to Dolcezza for ice cream. It tastes as good as the photograph on the homepage and was declared, "The best date place in D.C." by a Park Slope-dwelling buddy of ours from graduate school. We each got two flavors and shared.

Then, we decided that, since the weather was so nice (and there really isn't anything quite like that first, true Spring day) that we would plant some herbs out back and grill. Mr. Beeton decided on tandoori chicken with tabouleh salad. I decided on lemonade mojitos. When we returned to our apartment, we dug in the dirt, planting cilantro and a boysenberry bush (we already have mint), grilled up our chicken, and relaxed in the hammock. Our lemonade mojitos even gave us enough energy to head down Wisconsin with our friend, The Chemist. It was a perfect night to sit out at Breadsoda and enjoy sherbet.

Summer's just around the corner, my friends.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Lemonade Mojitos

• Crush some fresh mint in the bottom of a pint glass. 
  
• Cut a lime in quarters. 
  
• Squeeze the juice of two lime quarters in the glass. Throw in the lime quarters for good measure.
  
• Add ice. 
  
• Fill the pint class a quarter of the way full with Captain Morgan's spiced rum.
  
• Fill the rest of the glass with lemonade. 
  

Tandoori Chicken Kebabs (Skewers Optional)

Compliments of the special grilling issues of Everyday Foods (July/August 2004)

Note: Mr. Beeton can recall several other tandoori chicken recipes which he has tried. He claims this one is the best.

• Martha Stewart says, "In a blender, puree 2 tablespoons of lime juice, 4 cloves of garlic, 1 piece of ginger, and 2 jalapeno chiles. Add 1 cup of plain yogurt, and blend until smooth."
  
• We say, "Pour your puree in a glass pan. Dunk your chicken pieces in and refrigerate for at least 2 hours. Grill and enjoy.

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

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

it's a good thing

Consistently, soap operas have been my comfort television. On a bad day, a rainy day, or really just any day at all, I'll turn to All My Children, One Life To Live, and General Hospital for comfort. They remind me of my childhood, sitting, after a long day at school with my mom and sister, eating cookies and milk.

Lately, though, when I get home from a bad day, I turn to my Tivo-ed episodes of Martha. I can't get enough of that show - for many, many reasons. Especially lately. Such great ideas for Christmas. Feather-trees. Christmas cocktails. Joel McHale. They make me feel good. Like life really is about sugar cookies and pull toys.

And yesterday, the ultimate surprise! Mr. Beeton got an email from the show. He's got two tickets to see a live taping! I almost fainted. I can't think of a better way to kick off the spring semester - even if it does mean missing the first day of class. Shh. Don't tell.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Saturday, July 18, 2009 update - We never did attend that taping. Guilt won out over fantastic fish recpies.

breather

I'm taking a little breather right now from the chaos that is my living room. Actually, it's research paper chaos - spread out all over the floor of our apartment. I'm working my way through a pile of source packets, checking to make sure that my students did, in fact, copy all the sources that they cited from directly or paraphrased from in their research projects. And, I'm making piles - good, less than good, and ugly. The ugly ones will be there to greet them when they return from the Thanksgiving holiday. Sorry kids.

My break from this mess involves cleaning and packing. We're headed to Pennsylvania for the premier domestic holiday - Thanksgiving. We'll be going to my aunt's in Wyomissing, PA to celebrate, which will be good. My mother hates to cook, and she doesn't like others in her kitchen... so my aunt's house seems like the best place to be. After all, we do call her Martha Stewart Jr., so there will be all kinds of yum waiting for us.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself. For now, I need to make some progress. Back to my piles.

Enjoy the holiday and keep sweeping, Martha