bon appetit

I have a confession to make. 

I went to see Julie and Julia.

Over a month ago.

And I haven't blogged about it.

I had intended to, of course. My plan was to see the movie, buy Mastering the Art of French Cooking, cook the now infamous boeuf bourguignon, and then blog about it. 

But, I kept getting foiled. First, I couldn't find the book. I went to a couple of bookstores in and around Georgetown, and Julia's tome was no where to be found. I then ordered it online. But, when it came, we had just made some sort of beef stew in the crock pot. And, while I know our crock pot concoction couldn't compare, Mr. Beeton and I were just not that hungry for beef. Then, I read the recipe. I got scared, mainly by the bacon. And the intensity. I thought I'd try something else. A chocolate souffle, raspberry bavarian cream. Each time, though, I chickened out. And, then the papers came, obscuring the entire dining room table. I think Julia's book might be buried underneath.

So, instead, I thought I'd blog about how I had intended to cook something from Mastering the Art of French Cooking. And how you should go see Julie and Julia. It's really, really good. I'd compare its goodness to the boeuf bourguignon, but as you know, I haven't gotten around to making it yet.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watched Julie and Julia.

foiled again

It's been a rough week here in the railroad apartment. A bright spot, though, was an email we received indicating that there were three plots available at the community garden down the street. We were told to stop by, take a look, and rank our preferences. We did just that. And then the next night, we went back to look again, dreaming of rows of beans and plump tomatoes.

But, then today, we got another message, saying we'd been passed over in favor of those higher on the list who had responded after we did. You may remember we got our hopes up before, too. Maybe third time's a charm? Fingers crossed.

Keep sweeping, Martha

daily sweets

This week started off with a bang and is ending with a whimper, thankfully.

This summer, I wrote about how author, Joanne Rendell, contacted me about reading an advanced copy of her book, Crossing Washington Square. Monday night, we were very honored to host her on our campus for a reading. While the event itself went fabulously, the days leading up to her visit were not so smooth. They included a realization on Friday that no food had been ordered for the reception and a trip on Sunday to Georgetown Cupcake to cut in front of a crazy-long line to pick up three dozen of their tasty treats.

The madness was worth it, though. Joanne agreed to eat dinner with a few students at Figs on MacArthur Boulevard before heading over to her reading. She talked for a bit about the novel then called on a few eager students to assist her with the reading. Afterwards, the audience asked questions, enjoyed the cupcakes, and chatted informally with each other and with Joanne. Quite a few of my students came, as I had hoped. They read a piece ("Unschooling") in class by Joanne and were excited to see the face behind the words. The next night, I took a few up to the Borders in Friendship Heights where Joanne gave a repeat performance.

After the first event, I had a student email me to say that she had never before met an author whom she had to read in class. Her email ended with the declaration, "I love college." The second night, a male student (mind you, I teach a course themed around women's autobiography and, very often, my male students are a little disgruntled) told me that another male student, who had attended the reading the first night, texted him to say that it was "totally worth it" and that he should head up to the Borders if he had time. Sometimes, students can be so sweet.

The cupcakes, though... they were definitely the icing on a truly terrific two days.

Thanks, Joanne!

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watching Real Housewives of Atlanta and The Rachel Zoe Project. Not reading fast enough.

missin' the kitchen

Watched I Love You, Man, Coraline, Obsessed, the first 10 minutes of Gigli (rhymes with really), and Adventureland (4 stars).

mastering the art of the slow cooker

School starts. Monday. I can't believe how incredibly sad I am to see summer go. And how much summer stuff I still want to do. But, it's time to shift gears, make syllabi, attend faculty retreats.

Mr. Beeton and I tried our hand at some crockpot cooking in preparation for the school year ahead. For our wedding, we received an obscene, All-Clad Deluxe Slow Cooker (not on our registry). I was incensed. We have very little room in our railroad apartment for pots and pans, let alone a slow cooker that could easily feed twenty. Plus, I already had a lovely, small crockpot that my grandmother had given me. Mr. Beeton didn't want to exchange a gift we received for cash; he felt strongly about it. So, we kept it, and I fumed, frequently bringing it up in arguments that we'd have, even if those arguments weren't about slow cookers.

But, I made peace with it last winter. It's actually a fabulous way to cook a meal when you don't have a lot of time, and plus, it provides us with plenty of leftovers. During the school year, this is particularly ideal, so we are planning to put a slow-cooked meal into our regular weeknight rotation.

The recipe we tried the other night came from one of my mother's magazines. Overall, it turned out well, but I'd recommend adding an extra apple and, if you have the Super-Deluxe slow cooker, toning down the cooking time. Ours got a little mushy after six hours. Start it in the morning and eat it in the evening. That gives you a whole lot of time in between to work on that syllabus.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watching Entourage: Season Five.

fonz

onward and upward ever

Whew. Traveling can take a lot out of a person. Mr. Beeton and I are close to recovered from our trip to the Pacific Northwest. The time difference really took a toll on me, though. I feel like today is the first day that I woke up at a normal hour and ate on schedule. No wonder I've never been one of those people who dream of far-away places. I can barely travel cross country without needing to hit a reset button.

Our trip started in Portland, Oregon (after a quick switch by Continental... "You wanted to fly to Oregon? Sorry, your flight was cancelled. Why don't you take a train from 30th Street Station to Newark instead?"). We visited with family, saw the cutest kitchen in the world, played with cats, stopped in at Powell's, did some sightseeing, walked around Portland State, and enjoyed some terrific Thai food before heading up north to Tacoma. There, we stayed in a big, old, rambling beauty of a house, hugged Grammy many, many times, drove through Point Defiance, ate at Anthony's, bought some Fiestaware (it's a family tradition), and headed up to Seattle.

I don't want to offend any of my new West Coast relatives, but I have to admit that Seattle held a few "blog-worthy" gems. Among them were some delicious Dungeness crab ravioli at Volterra and a trip to Pike Place.

The two places that I want to tell you about, though, are a bit off the beaten path. The first may be familiar to virtual "foodies," but my suspicion is that not many have had first hand experience with Delancey - the pizza shop opened by Molly Wizenberg (of Organette) and her husband, Brandon. We had met Molly in D.C. at a book signing she had at Borders earlier this year. While getting our book signed, Mr. Beeton boldly told Molly that we'd be in Seattle in August and would love to stop by and try the new place out. The only thing is that right before we left we realized the restaurant would not be open. Rather, when we were scheduled to be there, there would be a series of invited dinners. Mr. Beeton insisted I write, explaining my food memoir project, and see if we could score a seat. I was too embarrassed, so instead, we drove by, took some pictures, and Auntie K scored us a menu. Molly scanned her own in, so I'll just link to her site (for copyright reasons... I am an English teacher, after all). It doesn't look like much from outside, but the smell coming from inside was fantastic.

The second spot was a little plot of land that some guerillas have taken over. Mr. Beeton's cousin K and her boyfriend M are involved in a little activity called guerilla gardening. They found a plot of undeveloped land behind their apartment and planted away, using wine bottles to warm the cold Seattle soil. I thought it was a pretty sweet spot.

So, what's a good way to re-enter your "real" life after a vacation like this? With a recipe from your very own West Coast relative. Actually, I re-discovered this recipe from one of my very best roommates ever - E from Corvalis. She made it when I graduated from Delaware, and when my mother tasted it at the party, she said it was the same dish my Aunt J from California used to make. It's become one of my comfort foods since it reminds me of some of the best people in my life.

Chicken Curry With Artichokes

There are a lot of recipes out there on the web, but I like this one the best because it's my own.

• Cook chicken-flavored Rice-A-Roni, according to the instructions on the box.
• When it's done, put it in a big yellow bowl (or any other kind of happy serving bowl you have around).
• Add some artichokes and a little of the juice. I like artichokes in a glass jar.
• Add a good number of green olives.
• Add as much mayonnaise as you like.
• Add as much curry powder as you like.
• You can add boiled chicken, too, but I like it better without.

Traditionally, I believe this salad is served cold, but I can never wait. It's good warm, too.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Finished watching Mad Men: Season 2. Also watched Gigantic. Read The Sharper Your Knife, The Less You Cry by Kathleen Flinn.