Food for Thought on a Cold Winter's Night

The New Year is such a funny time.  Half the people are bragging about how they were the only people they knew who weren't hungover on New Year's Day, and the other half are going on about how clean they have gotten their closets.  Whole Foods has a big giveaway featuring Cleanse Kits, which is no where near as exciting as the promos they had going with their Thanksgiving turkeys and holiday roast beefs. And everyone seems to be filled with a New Resolve worthy of a Ben Franklin maxim.

In a highly contrarian way, perhaps linked to the fact that I'm working on a zen book and trying to go to yoga as often as my emails allow, I am resolving not to touch my closet more than necessary, to hold off on Whole Foods' specials until something tasty--like truffled walnuts--gets offered again, and to just enjoy the journey.

Sometimes enjoying the journey means holding off on the purges and the self-improvement.  Sometimes it means marshmallows in the hot chocolate and reading magazines instead of manuscripts. And sometimes it means that if we can't take care of ourselves, how can we possibly take care of others?

There is a season for everything. As arctic air blasts around H'town, cutting my palm trees and irises down despite the lacrosse jackets my husband lovingly wrapped around them, I declare that January is not the season of fasting and contrition for holiday sins, it's the season of hunkering down. We don't get winter often here, so like a Leap Day that can only be appreciated every four years, I plan on making the most of it.

Seasons come, and seasons go.  And, of course, there is a book for all seasons. Now there is even a cookbook for all seasons, aptly named Seasonal Favorites. Here is the deal:

Seasonal Favorites is a collection of favorite festive foods from the Garden Club of Houston. Organized around the calendar year, it includes standard and more special holidays—like Veteran's Day and Day of the Dead. Anecdotes about special parties with all the details are included in each season, along with seasonal fare, party fare and planting tips. An inclusive way of looking at the year at home with family and friends, it features special recipes handed down for generations and flower arranging and gardening tips that will bring the beauty of the reader's own garden into the home; and it shares successful ideas for throwing warm and wonderful parties with friends and family—without having to hire a caterer.

Chock full of delicious and easy-to-prepare recipes, this inspired little book encourages us to create special times throughout the year by celebrating the cycle of life that is reflected in the garden. Many cookbooks promote holiday food, but most are based on standard holidays and only contain recipes. Seasonal Favorites offers proof that in our busy world, gracious living need not be a lost art.

Whether this collection augments your repertoire of holiday entertaining favorites or begins a new phase in your enjoyment of life, Seasonal Favorites promotes living life in a way that every sense can savor.

I wholeheartedly welcome a new phase of enjoyment into my life. 2009 is so over. To celebrate this official season of hunkering down, we are hitting the kitchen hard at our house. Corn chowder, apple pie, chili, hello dollies, and gallons of hot chocolate to wash it down.  Will we run out of inspiration for our cozy comforts? With this little book around, no way.

Come spring, when bright green buds peek out of the branch tips, we'll be ready for a change of season. And perhaps we'll do some penance and some push ups for all these good eats. But for now, it's all about the comforts of the hearth.

There's only one word for this behavior, and it's not self-discipline. Nor is it restraint. Or spartan or belt-tightening or shaping-up or anything with even the vaguest connotation of gymnasium. The radio says this word is officially "out" for 2010.  But I'll keep it. In fact, I'm making it my new mantra for January: Chillaxin'.

I hope this new, blue month finds you chillaxin' by the fire, with peace in your heart, pie on your plate, and a cup that runs over with the beverage of your choice.

 

Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories.
~An Affair to Remember

 

The Twelve Days of Thanksgiving: Day Four

On the Fourth Day of Thanksgiving my true love drank the whipping cream for the pie in his coffee and left to play golf.

But I am still thankful. And actually particularly thankful that he got out of the way, in light of today's activities, centering on foraging for traditional foods, moving furniture and arranging flowers.  And  because I am focusing on this, I am also particularly thankful for our authors who promote gracious living.

Gracious Living is a little like prairie dogs.  Some people mock it, others try to destroy it, but a few realize that the underpinnings of the world as we know it depend on it. And it is profoundly beautiful when you study it.  Way more than just furry or cute. Just as there is little that is more reassuring than a drenching, nurturing rain soaking deep into the grasslands thanks to the prairie dogs' work, there is little that feeds our soul more than a full course meal, made with love, eaten slowly in good company with good spirits and thankfulness.  Hence the popularity of the holiday that is now upon us.

But most of us are too busy twittering around, rushing to meetings and trying to snake parking places from unsuspecting middle aged women in the Whole Foods parking lot to take the time to really study gracious living.  So we have to ask the butcher about how long to cook the turkey.  After he tells  us how many pounds feeds how many people.

This is why I'm taking a moment today from my frenetic schedule of alternately working at home and working on my home to pause and be thankful for the authors of two little cookbooks, a church flower arranging book and a big pretty design book. Their books celebrate and share domestic arts that are in danger of being forgotten, and they have deep-rooted values at their core.

The cookbooks are Perennial Favorites and Seasonal Favorites, two wonderful collections of recipes from The Garden Club of Houston, the tireless gardeners who are responsible for making so much of H'town pleasing to the eye. Perennial Favorites is a collection of "Portable Food" that the ladies bring to share at their events, particularly the annual Bulb and Plant Mart; and Seasonal Favorites is filled to overflowing with party food, entertaining ideas, and ways to bring aspects of the garden into decorating. It is aptly named "Festive Food," and it just reading through it makes me feel that life is a delightful affair. Both books are treasure troves of hospitality and good cheer, collected by the multi-talented Margaret Wolfe, Gay Estes and Karen Terrell.

Gay is so multi-talented that she not only illustrated both of those, she also wrote and illustrated a little handbook called  The Church Ladies' Guide to Divine Flower Arranging  that is absolutely the best explanation of how to arrange a flower in any setting--holy or heathen--that I have ever read. In fact, as soon as I post this, I'm off to arrange the flowers that I gave a nice shot of vodka to this morning, just like Gay has taught me, and I'll keep her very practical tips in mind--beginning with "No Mickey Mouse ears."

The last book that is on my mind today is Interior Wisdom.  It's a beautiful interior design book by Leah Richardson, a lovely lady who is an award-winning designer whose work has appeared on the covers of major national shelter magazines, and is also a minister.  Leah's book is subtitled "Designing Your Home and Heart for the Lord," and in it, she shows how to create a home that is not only pleasing to the eye, but becomes a sanctuary from the outside world. Homes have a definite spirit, and it is so fine when they reflect the hearts that dwell in them. Leah's ideas on clearing the clutter and focusing on what's really important to us have been particularly helpful to my house.

Home and hearth. In a crazy world, there is little that is more comforting, and I am grateful to these authors who have shared their ideas for reviving domesticity, raising it into the art it deserves to be and recognizing that it can serve as a soothing salve to the soul of our crabby, fast food nation.

We are hardwired to make homes for ourselves, and hardwired for ritual. LIke the prairie dogs, our homes and our habits are integral to the strength with which we are able carry on.

So today, like my mother and my grandmothers always have, I will polish the trays and arrange the flowers.  And like the prairie dogs, I will go outside and raise my palms in gratitude for the setting sun. And if I take a minute from the preparations to tweet out my joy, that's ok, too.

I like my traditions with a little twist of lemon.

Thanksgiving Tip #4 If you find yourself frustrated that your world is not filled with domestic harmony even when the flowers and food are perfect, find yourself a copy of Terry Tempest Williams' Mosaic: Finding Beauty in a Broken World. It's language and message are inspiring, and it explains my newfound interest in Prayer Dogs.

 

If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion and avoid the people,
you might better stay home.

- James Michener