My Life in France by Julia Child with Alex Prud’homme
I wish I had more self-discipline, and read more heavy weight books, but what I find is that when I read heavy non-fiction these days, it falls over when I fall asleep. Mostly, I read the New Yorker, or catch up with my news online, while listening to NPR.
I don’t know how I got My Life in France, if I ordered it or if I bought it in B&N. I’ve had it for a while. We’ve always loved Julia Child; her programs were a hoot, and she was an accomplished woman who never took herself too seriously. I will never forget one time I saw her on a Martha Stewart Christmas Special; they were doing a tall Croquembouche, and at one point, Julia was not throwing on the caramelized sugar strings the way Martha wanted her to and she grabbed the little thrower-thing out of Julia’s hand to show her how. I gasped! That is like grabbing a spoon from the Queen of England, no! No! You can’t grab a spoon from Julia Childs! You can’t show Julia Childs how to do it, Martha, you BOW to Julia Childs!
Julia Childs, classy woman that she was, just watched Martha with fascination and never showed an ounce of annoyance.
The book is hilarious. While alive, she worked with her grandson, Alex Prud-homme, gathering correspondence – she was a copious letter writer, and people in those days kept their snail mail to refer back to, the way we keep e-mails. They sat in her sunny garden, and he would ask her a few questions, and off she would go, regaling him with stories of people, places, occasions, parties, and especially FOODS.
Julia Childs worked for the OSS in World War II, the forerunner to the CIA. Stationed in India, she met her husband, and after the war ended, they married. Stifled in her California life, and and Paul jumped at a chance to live overseas. Imagine – Paris! She had to adapt to a totally different way of life, totally different living space, a totally different way of shopping for food, and she had to learn to cook. Since she was in Paris, and because she is the woman she is, she signed up for cooking classes at the Cordon Bleu, where she worked hard to master the techniques to successfully produce the sauces and delicate flavors which makes French cuisine so delicious.
She also moves to Marseilles, to post-war Germany, and to Norway, and manages to produce two books, each of which took, literally, years to finalize, because of her attention to detail, and wanting to make sure that women using her books could understand exactly what to do, and when to do it.
This is a really fun book. I would have loved to know this adventurous, courageous woman, who meticulously tested every recipe for Mastering the Art of French Cooking and changed the lives of serious cooks in America. No, I have never cooked from her book. No, I don’t have her book. I have a Larousse Gastronomique, from which she worked to get the ‘true’ Frenchness of French cooking, but I don’t have any cook books by Julia. I have put out a hint, though, and I am hoping to get one for Christmas. 🙂 Not just for me – AdventureMan is making serious inroads into adventurous cooking. He has mastered blackened fish tacos, and seared tuna, woo hoooo! He is working on the ultimate cornbread. Just wait until I get him started on the quintessential French Onion Soup, or even – maybe – French bread!
My Saudi Shoes
“I love your shoes!” my friend cried. “Where did you find them?”
“It was thirteen years ago, in Saudi Arabia” I told her.
“Thirteen years? They look brand new!”
(These are not my shoes. These are shoes Saudi women can buy in Saudi Arabia.)
Ummm, well . . . when you live in super hot countries during those thirteen years, you don’t often wear closed toed shoes. It’s more comfortable to wear sandal style shoes, and more hygienic – when you live in the dry heat, your feet can get hard and cracked, and are vulnerable to feet fungus. Your feet need to breathe. Most of my shoes are open, but we are starting to have occasional chill weather in Pensacola. The flowers of the South have all pulled out their heavy sweaters and are wrapping wool scarves around their necks, even wearing winter coats.
Since the current cold snap features daily highs that are normal for Seattle or Germany in the summer, and since I thrive in the cold and suffer in the heat, I am in long sleeve lightweight t-shirts and sweaters, and – closed toed shoes.
I dread close-toe shoe season. My feet no longer like to be confined in shoes or boots. My toes hurt when I walk too much in them. So I have only a few pair of winter shoes, but really good ones. 🙂
Saudi Arabia was one of the best places for buying shoes I have ever lived, with entire floors of malls devoted entirely to shoe shops. Prices were reasonable; French and Italian shoes were cheaper in Saudi Arabia than they were in France and Italy, maybe because of the taxes imposed by the Eurozone.
Think about it. When you live in a country where women are all covered, wearing abayas, and they are supposed to keep their hair covered (most of us shameless westerners carried a scarf but did not wear it unless ordered to do so by the religious police / Muttawa) and the most modest women even cover their face, what is there to wear that people will notice? And women ARE women . . . Yes! Shoes!
The Saudi women wore fabulous shoes, and they wore delicate black lace gloves, and they wore scent. They bought Berkin bags and Hermes headscarves, and fabulous Chopard watches. When a group of Saudi women would walk by, you would be enveloped by a cloud of the headiest, most seductive scents in the world. And oh, holy smokes, the shoes . . . Saudi women were just beginning to experiment with a little embellishment when I left – a little Swarovski crystal leaf on a scarf, or a sprinkling of crystals on the neckline of an abaya, some embroidery on a hem, a dark green abaya instead of severe black . . . women are women, no matter where we are. We like a little sparkle, and we buy things that make us feel special.
The shoes my friend liked are Italian, navy leather heels with a kind of leather lace around the toe area. They are lovely, and I wear them happily (for a short while) during closed-toe season. They are classic, and I am hoping I can wear them another twenty years or so, which is entirely possible if I only wear them during cold snaps in Pensacola. 🙂
Broken Dishes
“How did you handle it with us, Mom, when we had temper tantrums?” I asked.
“You girls didn’t have a lot of tantrums, or at least I don’t remember any. . . But I do remember I was always breaking dishes and buying new sets, so one time I put the remains of a dish set in a box and told one of you, maybe you, maybe your sister, that when you get mad, just go down and break a dish.”
I remember that. I remember it all. Yes, my Mom loved dishes, and she was often getting new dishes. It’s a family thing, we all have more sets of dishes than we know what to do with. I have my first everyday china, Finnish stoneware so strong and durable that to this day, I’ve only lost a couple pieces to breakage and have one chip. I have a set of everyday Wedgewood that I bought when I got sick and tired of my durable set. I have our wedding china, and I have my (one of) my grandmother’s sets of china, and then I have the china I bought in Germany when all my other china was in storage. (I no longer have the china with the elephants and camels I bought in Doha, and it made us smile everytime we used it.) Oops. And three sets of Christmas dishes, but just the dinner dishes, not all the soups and breads and etc.
Oh wait! Where was I going? Ah yes, the set of dishes in the box in the basement.
I remember being really angry and heading for the box. I remember throwing a plate, but it didn’t break loudly enough, so I used a hammer. It made a big mess. We weren’t allowed to make a mess and not clean it up, and knowing I had to pick up all the broken pieces took a lot of fun out of being angry. It just didn’t do it for me. I never broke another dish (on purpose.)
One of the fun things about Doha and Kuwait was that you could find these cheap but fun dishes and use them for a couple years and then just walk away from them and not look back. 🙂
Pumpkin Patch Frenzy
We’ve had the most wonderful Saturday. You’d think we’d be sleeping in, but we surprised ourselves – awake and happy at seven in the morning, out the door by eight. Our second stop was the Pumpkin Patch, an annual arts event featuring glass pumpkins.
“Why pumpkins?” you might ask. It’s pumpkin season. Pumpkins are traditional for Halloween. These are beautiful, made of glass, nice for a Fall seasonal decoration in your house. It’s an arts fest, held in the Belmont Arts and Cultural Center. (If you look closely, you can see 5 Sisters Blues Cafe across the street.)
BIG mistake. No parking spots, so AM let me off to fight the crowds while he looked for a parking spot. There had been a huge line; none left as I get close to the door, but inside, it is a frenzy and it is a turgid stream of people. Many are carrying boxes and people are grabbing at pumpkins, beautiful glass pumpkins of all colors, but I knew I wanted a big orange pumpkin. I only found one orange pumpkin, a small pumpkin, but I never did see a big pumpkin, so this one will have to do.
You cannot imagine; this was not a nice crowd. This was a mob, this was the worst shopping crowd I have ever been in, and I have been in some frenzied shopping crowds in my life. This one was rude and pushy and many of the pushiest were also very vulgar, and used vulgar language as they tried to push others out of their way.
I went straight to the “pay with cash or check” line, which moved fairly quickly. At one point, a guy called for anyone paying by check, and I could do either so I got in that line figuring it to be faster. I was at the end of the line, and the very last guy at the “pay with cash” table said “if you can pay with cash, I can take you here, now.” I said “YES!” and whipped our my cash and was out in a flash.
I’m going to have to find another strategy for finding a large orange pumpkin. I’m not going to that Pumpkin Patch Sale again.
Here is my little orange pumpkin:
And here it is, with the little green pumpkin I bought last year, on my beautiful green Damascus tablecloth in the dining room:
Pantone Releases Fall Colors 2011
Each season, the Pantone Color Institute unveils the fashion industry’s primary color palette after a survey of the designers of New York Fashon Week. The top 10 colors selected for women this fall 2011 appeal to a vibrant, romantic ideal. Designers artfully combine the brighter colors with the subtle neutrals, setting the tone for a feminine fall reminiscent of glamorous Old Hollywood, enchanting Chinese operas, lively cityscapes and peaceful countrysides.
Fall 2011’s color palette consists of: Bamboo, Emberglow, Honeysuckle (the ‘it’ color of 2011), Phlox, Cedar, Deep Teal, Coffee Liqueúr, Nougat, Orchid Hush and Quarry. Of course, all designers have their own trendy names for each of these colors — for example, Chris Benz refers to his Bamboo yellow as “Sponge” — and there are varying shades of these chosen core colors, but the use of this palette on the runways and in designer ready-to-wear collections in stores is unmistakable. Pantone is the color authority in fashion. Take a peek at how these top 10 colors have manifested across products and fashion labels this season, and see how you can best combine the colors for a chic fall 2011 look. These are the top 10 colors and these are some of our favorite combos.
Hmmmm. These may be the ‘newest colors’ but the ‘it’ color for Fall, Honeysuckle, was also one of the main choices for Pantone’s Spring 2011 Choices. The purple is a little red for my taste, and the green a little too yellow. I’m waiting for a deep emerald green to come back, and I will buy clothes to wear for the next twenty years. 🙂
I found this on AOL’s Shopping News.
Ramadan for Non-Muslims 2011
Ramadan is coming, coming with a vengence, it is almost here. Ramadan is expected to start with the sighting of the new moon on August 1st. I am feeling happy – a friend has asked me to help her find special Eid dresses for her daughter returning to Saudi Arabia. I know what she is looking for, and I am at a loss as to where they might be found. I will check tomorrow with friends who have lived in Pensacola for a long time and see what they have to suggest.
Meanwhile, as is my annual tradition, I will reprint an article I wrote in September 2007, Ramadan for Non Muslims. Even better, go back to the original Ramadan for Non Muslims and read the comments – I’ve always learned the best information from my commenters. 🙂
Ramadan for the Non Muslim
Ramadan started last night; it means that the very thinnest of crescent moons was sighted by official astronomers, and the lunar month of Ramadan might begin. You might think it odd that people wait, with eager anticipation, for a month of daytime fasting, but the Muslims do – they wait for it eagerly.
A friend explained to me that it is a time of purification, when your prayers and supplications are doubly powerful, and when God takes extra consideration of the good that you do and the intentions of your heart. It is also a time when the devil cannot be present, so if you are tempted, it is coming from your own heart, and you battle against the temptations of your own heart. Forgiveness flows in this month, and blessings, too.
We have similar beliefs – think about it. Our holy people fast when asking a particular boon of God. We try to keep ourselves particularly holy at certain times of the year.
In Muslim countries, the state supports Ramadan, so things are a little different. Schools start later. Offices are open fewer hours. The two most dangerous times of the day are the times when schools dismiss and parents are picking up kids, and just before sunset, as everyone rushes to be home for the breaking of the fast, which occurs as the sun goes down. In olden days, there was a cannon that everyone in the town could hear, that signalled the end of the fast. There may still be a cannon today – in Doha there was, and we could hear it, but if there is a cannon in Kuwait, we are too far away, and can’t hear it.
When the fast is broken, traditionally after the evening prayer, you take two or three dates, and water or special milk drink, a meal which helps restore normal blood sugar levels and takes the edge off the fast. Shortly, you will eat a larger meal, full of special dishes eaten only during Ramadan. Families visit one another, and you will see maids carrying covered dishes to sisters houses and friends houses – everyone makes a lot of food, and shares it with one another. When we lived in Tunisia, we would get a food delivery maybe once a week – it is a holy thing to share, especially with the poor and we always wondered if we were being shared with as neighbors, or shared with as poor people! I always tried to watch what they particularly liked when they would visit me, so I could sent plates to their houses during Ramadan.
Just before the sun comes up, there is another meal, Suhoor, and for that meal, people usually eat something that will stick to your ribs, and drink extra water, because you will not eat again until the sun goes down. People who can, usually go back to bed after the Suhoor meal and morning prayers. People who can, sleep a lot during the day, during Ramadan. Especially as Ramadan moves into the hotter months, the fasting, especially from water, becomes a heavier responsibility.
And because it is a Muslim state, and to avoid burdening our brothers and sisters who are fasting, even non-Muslims refrain from eating, drinking, touching someone of the opposite sex in public, even your own husband (not having sex in the daytime is also a part of fasting), smoking is forbidden, and if you are in a car accident and you might be at fault, the person might say “I am fasting, I am fasting” which means they cannot argue with you because they are trying to maintain a purity of soul. Even chewing gum is an offense. And these offenses are punishable by a heavy fine – nearly $400 – or a stay in the local jail.
Because I am not Muslim, there may be other things of which I am not aware, and my local readers are welcome to help fill in here. As for me, I find it not such a burden; I like that there is a whole month with a focus on God. You get used to NOT drinking or eating in public during the day, it’s not that difficult. The traffic just before (sunset) Ftoor can be deadly, but during Ftoor, traffic lightens dramatically (as all the Muslims are breaking their fast) and you can get places very quickly! Stores have special foods, restaurants have special offerings, and the feeling in the air is a lot like Christmas. People are joyful!
Credit Card Blues
“Because your name and card number are on file with us, it is possible that your card information has been compromised. While we employ the strongest encryption processes, it is possible that a motivated and persistent hacker could access your information. For this reason, we suggest that you inform your credit card company and explore the possibility of closing your current card and starting another.”
I don’t even have a pit in my stomach this time when I get this message. This is our third change in one year on one card. One of the changes was due to our card company shifting its business to another company, but two were due to possible compromises of our information, which had nothing to do with anything we had done except to use our credit card.
In Saturday’s paper, we read that there has been a huge shift in the restaurant business. An owner said that ten years ago cash customers and credit card customers were about 50/50, but now, 90% of all customers use credit cards. (We’re in the 10% who use cash, but it’s because of all our years living overseas.)
The new cards have arrived, and I spent the day going to all the sites that bill me automatically, and monthly, and to my car rental people, and airline reservations people . . . all those automatic charges that would bounce if I didn’t get the correct new number to them. Even as I am sending out all this information, I cannot help but be aware that 1) It is the companies storing my information that make me so vulnerable, and 2) in some cases, there are no alternatives. Credit cards are the accepted way of paying these days.
It’s been a long journey. I remember my first eye-opening experience; I was back from Qatar, re-opening a mobile phone account and I handed the sales person a hundred dollar bill, and she just gaped. “No one ever pays in cash anymore,” she said, “I don’t even know what to do!” As it turned out, they didn’t have change, so I had to charge it, but it went against my grain – we use our cards, but selectively, and pay them off in full every month.
And we only really use one card. We have a couple back ups, but we never use them.
I can’t help but feel that we are all increasingly vulnerable by our reliance on the credit card system. Hackers are the least of the problem – I also worry about those heaps of paragraphs in 2 pt type that we have to ‘read’ and sign, because do you really read them? I know I scan them, but there are words in those agreements designed (I believe) to make you tired of reading, big words, lots of them strung together. They probably have some meaning, but although I am not stupid, reading financial disclosure statements makes my head spin.
What kind of vulnerability do we have to our banks with these cards?
What are our obligations that we don’t even know about?
While we were waiting for our cards, I had three pre-orders with Amazon.com that failed. I wrote to them, suggesting that because I was a good customer, a shareholder, and a faithful buyer with them almost from the very beginning, that maybe they could send them anyway (especially the new Song of Ice and Fire volume by George R.R. Martin, A Dance With Dragons,) but no, they would not. This is not the Amazon.com I used to know, who sent me a coffee cup for being a faithful customer, back in 1997. No, I had to zip up the road to Barnes and Noble, the old fashioned way.
On the other hand, our mail-order-pharmacy people were just great. I had an automatic order and when I explained the problem and that we were waiting for our new cards to arrive, the customer service lady just laughed and said “We’ll send it out and bill you later.” How very very civilized. (ExpressScripts – YAYYYYY)
I used to know my credit card number by heart. We had the same card for almost 20 years. I even memorized my next card, but not this one. I have little faith it will be good for all that long.
Saudi Women Drive Today
From today’s BBC News:
Saudi Arabia women drive cars in protest at ban
Women in Saudi Arabia have been openly driving cars in defiance of an official ban on female drivers in the ultra-conservative kingdom.
The direct action has been organised on social network sites, where women have been posting images and videos of themselves behind the wheel.
The Women2Drive Facebook page said the direct action would continue until a royal decree reversed the ban.
Last month, a woman was arrested after uploading a video of herself driving.
Manal al-Sherif was accused of “besmirching the kingdom’s reputation abroad and stirring up public opinion”, but was released after 10 days having promised not to drive again.
“All that we need is to run our errands without depending on drivers,” said one woman in the first film posted in the early hours of Friday morning.
The film showed the unnamed woman talking as she drove to a supermarket and parking.
We can’t move around without a male”
Maha al-Qahtani
Female driver
“It is not out of love for driving or traffic or the experience. All this is about is that if I wanted to go to work, I can go. If I needed something I can go and get it.
“I think that society is ready to welcome us.”
Another protester said she drove around the streets of Riyadh for 45 minutes “to make a point”.
“I took it directly to the streets of the capital,” said Maha al-Qahtani, a computer specialist at the Ministry of Education.
Religious fatwa
On Twitter, Mrs Qahtani described the route she had taken around the city with her husband, saying: “I decided that the car for today is mine.”
Her husband said she was carrying her essential belongings with her and was “ready to go to prison without fear”, AFP news agency reported.
One woman who asked not to be named told the BBC driving was often considered to be “something really minor”.
The ban is one of a number of restrictions Saudi women face in daily life
“It’s not one of your major rights. But we tell them that even if you give us all the basic and big rights, that you are claiming are more important than driving, we can’t enjoy practising those rights because the mobility is not there.
“We can’t move around without a male.”
The motoring ban is not enforced by law, but is a religious fatwa imposed by conservative Muslim clerics. It is one of a number of severe restrictions on women in the country.
Supporters of the ban say it protects women and relieves them of the obligation to driver, while also preventing them from leaving home unescorted or travelling with an unrelated male.
But the men and women behind the campaign – emboldened by uprisings across the Middle East and Arab world – say they hope the ban will be lifted and that other reforms will follow.
Amnesty International has said the Saudi authorities “must stop treating women as second-class citizens”, describing the ban as “an immense barrier to their freedom of movement”.
The last mass protest against the ban took place in 1980, when a group of 47 women were arrested for driving and severely punished – many subsequently lost their jobs.
The women were angered that female US soldiers based in the kingdom after the war with Kuwait could drive freely while they could not.
Atlanta: Ethiopian Adventure and Macy’s
One last entry from our recent trip, a happy ending to a happy trip. This is how sweet my husband is to me.
We find Pensacola a very comfortable place to be, and have only found two things lacking. There is no Macy’s, and I do like Macy’s. There are no Ethiopian restaurants, (remember, I just read Cutting for Stone) and we like Ethiopian food. We know Atlanta has both, so we plotted our return trip with a just-enough-time-for-Ethiopian-food-and-shopping.
Isn’t life funny and wonderful? We know Atlanta has Ethiopian restaurants – several – because an almost-niece who has worked in Ethiopia lives in Atlanta, and could recommend several. Using the handy iPhone, we found a Marriott Residence Inn hidden away in a quiet neighborhood near Macy’s and not far from the Queen of Sheba. Although the hotel was full, they had a wonderful room for us, with a view of downtown Atlanta:
We found the phone number for the Queen of Sheba, called – and they were open for lunch!
When we got to the plaza where the Queen of Sheba was located, we just laughed. We were back in Kuwait!
And here is what the Queen of Sheba looks like from the outside:
Inside, daytime, the atmosphere is serene:
Nights and weekends, they have jazz and lively evenings:
We ordered the Vegetarian mix, a variety of Ethiopian vegetable/legume based dishes, a variety of tastes and heat, served on Injera, the large, pancake-like bread. When it came, it was beautiful, and it tasted as good as it looked. They gave us a tray of extra injera, and we ate almost all of it!
It was so good. SO good. We decided we would go back for dinner, after shopping. AdventureMan took me to Macy’s, and only called me twice in the hours I was looking and trying on.
Here’s the problem. I have a style, but I am terrified someone is going to recommend me for What Not to Wear, so I try to find a couple little things now and then to update my look. I have a tactic: take armsfull of clothes into the dressing room. Try on quickly. You usually can tell immediately.
Here is what you hear. “No.” “Oh, NO!” “No” “No” “No” “Hmmm, maybe” “no” “Holy Smokes, NO!” “Hmmm, maybe” etc. Then I try on the maybes, and out of twenty or thirty items, I might come out with one or two. Some young styles are just too young, some skirts just too short, some camis just too revealing. I don’t want to be one of those pathetic older women trying to be hot, I just want to look decently attractive, that’s the goal.
Meeting up hours later with AdventureMan (I know, I know, I owe him big time for this) we laugh to discover we are neither of us hungry for dinner. We decide to go back to the hotel, but dinner time comes and we are still so full from lunch that we can’t consider dinner. Even though the dishes were vegetarian, that injera must have swelled in our bellies. We can’t eat another bite!
Listmaker
“Why are you smiling?” AdventureMan asked as he read the Sunday paper on our bed, the ceiling fan whirling madly to cool him down after his post-Church yard work – feeding the birds, shoveling up all the birdseed hulls, putting recycle materials into the compost bin.
I was doing something I do only rarely, changing purses. At the last minute, all in navy, I decided to do the navy purse instead of the tan. Now, back home, I was re-transfering all the important things, and checking pockets for stuff that accumulates and needs to be thrown away.
“I found a list,” I began. “It says:
fruit cake
kick board
book
peanut brittle
photos in frames
calendar
soap”
He laughed. “I know exactly what that was, “he remembered, “my Christmas box.”
More specifically, my tag on the outside of the box reminding me of what was inside when I had to affix a customs tag to send the box to hubby in Kuwait. These days, as I send boxes, I (mostly) no longer have to fiddle with customs tags or leaving the box open until I get to the post office so that customs officers can affirm what I included in the box. Every time I send a box, still, I think of those customs tags and give thanks not to have to do those irksome little steps.
I keep my lists now, in a folder marked, predictably,
-
To Do Lists
This one goes in there. On days when I feel bad about myself, or overwhelmed, I can look at my to-do lists and have a record that my time was not mis-spent. I can see all the little chores and fix-it projects we have finished, all the dinners we have done, house guests we have had . . . These little to-do lists keep track of the little things you do that take up so much time, and then at the end of the year, you ask yourself “where did the time go.” These help me know that I didn’t waste the time, I used the time, a little here, a little there, to bring order out of chaos in our daily existence, to brighten a life, maybe to help others, or to meet a goal I have already forgotten.
Some of the lists, like the moving lists, remind me of God’s gracious hand in helping me to do the things I’ve had to do, and could never have managed without his help. When I read some of them, I almost laugh out loud thinking “I did all that??”
It also reminds me how very happy I am to have AdventureMan back home with me, not far away at Christmas time. 🙂
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Early Voting in Florida
