Marjorie Asked: Trashy Novels?

Maggie says:
I'm going to blame it on all the cold medicine I've been taking, because I completely missed Marjorie's burning question yesterday in the middle of her Goodreads endorsement:

Believe me, there's been a lot of trashy potboiler reading over the years. ... So what's your all-time favorite trashy novel? Come on, tell me. I'll probably decide on what mine is by the end of the day.

Ooh, ooh, tell us!!! I could use some trashy novel-talk this morning.

MMM...good books!

Maggie says:
Last month I read The United States of Arugula: The Sun-Dried, Cold-Pressed, Dark-Roasted, Extra Virgin Story of the American Food Revolution, and I still miss it. I can't remember the last time nonfiction has been such a complete pleasure to read. I tend to go for more painful subjects, so this was a guilty pleasure in the best way possible.

David Kamp is a fantastic writer, and he presents the tale of American food in a lively, witty, self-deprecating manner that endlessly charms. Kamp's knack for detail, cultural commentary, and use of choice quotes helps us follow the journey of food through the last two centuries, learning boatloads of trivia and obscure foodie knowledge along the way. For readers who can be seduced by food, this is a book for you, as stuffed full of personalities, romance, and tempers as it is supply, demand, and profit.

To me, the shock is in the timeline. I was consistently floored by how recently everyday foodstuffs like olive oil, salsa, balsamic vinegar, and fresh herbs were entirely absent from the American eating experience. Kamp quotes Californian chefs smuggling seeds in from Europe to (finally!) grow fresh herbs in this country, New York articles explaining the novelty of pizza (including how to pronounce it) to readers just fifty years ago, and the bounty of Jello-related recipes in mid-century women's magazines that reflect the so-called miracles of canned and processed foods. Without too much idolatry and a great sense of humor, Kamp helps us appreciate the sheer adventurousness and bravery of some of our food leaders like James Beard, Julia Child, and Craig Claiborne without ever losing his sense of perspective. He eases us into the world of French-dominated cuisine and how long it took - and why - for the United States to craft its own food identity, one that looked much more like its population. Through decades of intense change, we follow menus being crafted based on what's local for the first time ever, gender shifts in the game of food-talk, the raucousness of drug-fueled kitchens, the bite of restaurant reviews, and the rise of the "restaurant as entertainment" destination. Kamp's keen eye never skips a beat on entrepreneurship, food marketing and appeal, and the lifestyle/home shifts that enabled and spurred all this change.

To me, food is inherently political, and this outrageously fun read allows that perspective as much as it promotes snob-appeal ponderings. It's a great taking-off point for serious thinking about shifts in local produce and sustainability (read this, then The Omnivore's Dilemma), and you'll learn loads of fluff as well as practical knowledge along the way. This book is all about indulgence, learning, getting hungry, and yes, laughing out loud. My experience with "The United States of Arugula" is best summed up by the comment of a close observer: "I think you're purposely reading that so slowly because you don't ever want it to end." So true.

MMM...good

Maggie reports:
Here's the 1-2-3 of what I've been up to, my crazy Nyquil-infused dreams notwithstanding.

Reading
I'm finally nearing the end of King Leopold's Ghost: A Story of Greed, Terror, and Heroism in Colonial Africa. I've been reading the history of the Congo backwards, so it's interesting (and blood-chilling) for me to trace the pathways of this country from now back to then. Sometimes I think we see history more clearly when we understand it backwards. It's taken me much longer than it should have to finish this book, but I can't blame that on Adam Hochschild's excellent writing, rather on my own difficulty getting through the bloodiest chapters. It turns out I can zip through the tales of investigative turn-of-the-century reporting and the interplay of missionaries v. mercenaries much better than I can details of indescribable torture, murder, and despair among natives. Hochschild is at his best getting to the inner motivations of the players, from Henry Morton Stanley to E. D. Morel to Roger Casement to William Sheppard to Joseph Conrad to King Leopold himself. He's also impressive at seeing outside of his story to ask deeper questions ("Was the Congo really any worse than what the French or Germans were doing?" "Had [the organizers] understood what kind of revolution they were really calling for, would they have censored themselves?" "If not the Belgians, would the atrocities in the Congo just have been committed by someone else?"). This book is a really fascinating, and often emotionally difficult, read, but one that I recommend wholeheartedly, especially for those interested in colonialism and power.

Watching
As a huge Wes Anderson fan, I was eager to see The Darjeeling Limited (paired with a short, The Hotel Chevalier). This movie is great fun, and everything you expect from an Anderson film. Was there more than expected? I can't really say, but for those who'll take Wes Anderson as is, it was perfect. I didn't need more than his classic touch on family, camaraderie, and adventure. Netflix has given me the oldie-but-goodie Sports Nights series (intriguing viewing for Aaron Sorkin fans, and must-watch stuff for Peter Krause fans), Borat (I think Sacha Baron Cohen is brilliant), Elizabeth (to remind myself of how amazing it is as prep for Elizabeth: The Golden Age, which I'm hoping to catch soon although I've heard mixed reviews), An Inconvenient Truth (way more compelling than I'd anticipated, surprisingly), and Knocked Up (with a cast charming enough to help us overlook the plot holes). I found Grey Gardens to be more annoying than it was worth, and couldn't stomach all the bickering and nagging of Short Cuts, despite the stellar cast and how much everyone else seems to adore that movie. Oh well.

Doing
I continue to really love the Dallas Farmers Market, which isn't as huge or all-encompassing as the NC farmers market, but is leaps and bounds better than the ABQ farmers market. It really is a first-rate urban farmers market that I'm so happy to be a regular at now. I showed up late on Sunday not sure if anyone would still be around, and was pleased to discover that it was still bustling enough to fill up my big vegetable bag and then some. Next time I'll take my camera and elaborate, but I get giddy thinking about how much could change if we all committed to going to a farmers market (or participating in a CSA, a better alternative in ABQ) once a week. World-changing, I tell you! Coming down off the Sox win and spending two days in a Nyquil fog doesn't give me much more to talk about in the way of extracurriculars, unless we can count cyber- and tv-stalking the Red Sox victory parade through the streets of Boston while I was home sick, wishing there was a way to transport my[healthy]self into raucous Beantown. Maybe next year, right?

PS: "MMM...good" is a new m-pyre series. Stay tuned for more!

Goodbye to Madeleine L'Engle

Mikaela says:
I was very sad to read that Madeleine L'Engle, author of the kids classic, A Wrinkle in Time, died September 7.

I so vividly remember reading these books, deep into the night, with a thrilling fear that my mom would burst in on me and I would catch holy hell for still being awake.

I remember feeling so akin to the brainy but loving Meg character, who lacks confidence and yet steps up at every dire circumstance. Over the course of the three-book series, she also gets prettier as time goes on and marries a wonderful guy. Good news for us not-so-beautiful brainiac kids!

The parents of the Murray family were partner scientists who work on chemistry and genetic codes (I think). The best part is the picture of domesticity as Mrs. Murray cooks a big vat of soup on her Bunsen burner so that she can feed her family AND work to solve a scientific mystery. So cool. (And reassuring to those of us brainiac yet maternal types out there!).

Of course the books are all about the power of love, but they're also great reads with amazing characters and such imaginitive events. I actually best-loved A Swiftly Tilting Planet, for its weaved narrative of historic events and the potential to radically avoid a cataclysmic current political event (nuclear both threat from a crazy South American despot). There's Native American lore, Salem witch trials, and all the arguments against nuclear proliferation you can imagine. In a kids book! Not to mention cosmic travel through space and time. Come on!

She was an author who wrote quality literature accessible to kids that actually gave good models and good stories about characters that helped me have choices that I might not have known I had otherwise. I so wanted to be a chemist for a good two years after reading these books! And have a family of five...

Ms. L'Engle also was very active promoting other writers, sponsoring scholarships and programs at the University of New Mexico for young authors. She put her money where her heart was to home-grow talent and support others' dreams.

What a beautiful model for all of us. I can't wait to read her books to my own kids.