Post Grad, Directed by Vicky Jenson

Post Grad got disappointing reviews when it was released, but the reviewer from The Washington Post said one of the bright spots in the film was the performance by Zach Gilford, known to Friday Night Lights fans as quarterback Matt Saracen. I LOVE FNL so I figured I had to come out to support #7. (I’m loyal if nothing else.) I sure hope he appreciates my loyalty, because it took a real effort to get through to the end of this film. Alexis Bledel tries her best as Ryden, the recent college grad, but I found her character’s whining insufferable. Ryden has her future planned out in her mind and, diploma in hand, she’s ready for her dreams to become reality. Of course, life doesn’t cooperate. Hilarity ensues. Or not. The movie isn’t funny, and the best thing about it is Zach Gilford as the best friend who suffers from unrequited love for Ryden. Anyone that’s been to the movies or watched T.V. can probably predict the plot and the travails poor Ryden has to overcome. I don’t mind predictable if it’s done well, funny, or moving. However, I didn’t find this movie to be any of those things, only tedious. Above all, I’m a sucker for a happy ending, predictable or not, and my heart was willing and eager for the pay-off.  Even that disappointed.  It’s a shame, too, because I had high hopes, despite the reviews, considering the cast includes Michael Keaton, Jane Lynch, Carol Burnett, and J.K. Simmons. They can’t rise above their material, unfortunately.

I’ll forgive you this time, 7, but only because you more than make up for it on FNL. Last season—so moving and so real. Thank you for that. Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.



My Life in France, Julia Child with Alex Prud'homme

The movie Julie & Julia brought Julia Child back into mainstream consciousness, (although I can still find her on my PBS station at off-hours). That’s a good thing. A friend had the movie tie-in edition of Child’s memoir, My Life in France, which she graciously lent to me. I had just watched the movie (really liked the Julia part; the Julie part needed more food shots—who cares about the lobster? I want to see the Lobster Newburg!). I was interested to know more. That often happens to me. I watch the movie and want to know the real story. I was only a few pages into the book when my stomach started to rumble and I felt like pouring myself a glass of French wine.  That feeling never really left me for the remainder of the book.

Julia Child’s tone is casual, but her approach to food is anything but. Listening to her awakening to food—good food prepared well—and accompanying wine is a delight. Her voice is strong and clear, and her enthusiasm, knowledge, and commonsense burst from every page. As a bonus, most pages are full of accounts of delicious food and memorable meals. My favorite is the description of her husband Paul’s fiftieth birthday dinner:

amuse-gueules au fromage (hot pâtes feuilletées topped with cheese, served in the living room with Krug champagne); rissolettes de foie gras Carisse; filet de boeuf Matigno (served with a nearly perfect Bordeaux, Château Chauvin 1929); les fromages (Camembert, Brie de Melun, Époisses, Roquefort, Chèvre); fruits; rafraîchis; gâteau de demi~siècle; café, liqueurs, hundred-year-old Cognac; Havana cigars and Turkish cigarettes.

 I don’t speak French and don’t know exactly what it all means, but I know enough for my mouth to water. I have no problem understanding how Julia and Paul ended up with digestive problems, living on a diet like that. I’m also inspired to copy the framework of this menu for my husband’s fiftieth birthday dinner celebration. And then he can copy it for mine. Many years from now.

There was one jarring note in My Life in France for me. Child’s life took her in a different direction from her parents, and those differing experiences showed her a different view of the world and led to different opinions, beliefs, and politics. That’s fine. However, I sensed rejection not just of her parents’ politics but of them too. I found that sad and disappointing. These references, which are sprinkled through the book, are jarring in their shift of attitude but are not numerous enough to spoil the appetizing journey Julia Child leads.

Child was committed to creating good food and, through her cookbooks, the ability to create it again and again. Her kitchen was her laboratory, and she was committed to excellence. It is said that you shouldn’t wait for a special occasion to open a good bottle of wine because when you open a good bottle of wine, the occasion becomes special. Julia Child’s life and work show that this belief is just as appropriate when applied to food.

Grilled Lemongrass Chicken with Red Quinoa and Vegetables

I was looking for a recipe for the red quinoa I found in the health food aisle of my local grocery store. I had cooked quinoa before - I have a great, spicy vegetarian quinoa stuffed pepper recipe that I got from my sister - but not red quinoa. As is my habit, my first stop was Epicurious. I find myself at that site so often primarily because I can usually find a recipe that strikes my fancy using the ingredients I have on hand. Everyday cooking is so much more fun (and bearable) for me when I'm trying something new.

This recipe is easy to put together--a simple marinade, cooking the quinoa (like rice), and sautéing some snap peas and red bell peppers in the same pan as the chicken. I'm one of those people that like to eat my food separately--meat first, then veg, then starch--but not with this dish. The quinoa is rather bland on its own, but with the lemony chicken and vegetables it sings. This is a simple, two-pot meal that has great flavor.  The mix of textures adds another layer of interest to the dish and lifts it above the pedestrian. I served it with a Robert Mondavi Chardonnay (one of my Grandfather's favorites). The pairing was nice, but I think next time I'll try an unoaked Chardonnay. The Mondavi is a nice wine that I think I would have appreciated more on its own, both for its drinkability and for the warm memories it always brings to mind.

Stone Cold, David Baldacci

Dear Mr. Baldacci,

I recently finished your novel, Stone Cold, the first of your books that I have had occasion to read. The plot was exciting and, despite a brief lull in the action, I found the story entertaining. I found myself rooting for your characters, even those with questionable motives, decisions, and actions. Stone Cold also helped pass a few long hours on I-95 in Virginia and for that I am sincerely grateful. Most enjoyable for me, though, was recognizing the many DC area locations in which the story is set. (Every day I drive past the seedy motel that the Finns stay in, and I have eaten at that McDonald's, too.  Also, I used to get my car inspected at the gas station where Stone calls for a cab.) I think one of your greatest successes in this story is establishing a sense of place and creating characters that are products of their environment and interact realistically with it. I would love to gain more insight into your ability to do this so effectively and to share with you more of my thoughts on your novel. I’m sure it would be edifying for us both. I remember reading that you are an enthusiastic patron of Restaurant Eve in Old Town Alexandria (mmmm, Lobster Risotto), and I think that establishment—rather than the McDonald’s up the street from the seedy motel—may be an appropriate place for what I’m sure would be an enriching and enlightening literary and intellectual exchange.

Cordially,
Amy P.

Fruit of the Vine

All this posting and redesigning has made me thirsty.  So, I made some grape juice from the Concord grapes we received the last two weeks in our CSA delivery.  The family gathered together to de-stem the grapes (good thing we don't own a vineyard--I never thought I'd say those words--as slow as my teen was working), and then I covered them with tap water and cooked them over a low boil for fifteen-ish minutes.  I forgot to mash them before we boiled, so we mashed after they were done with no apparent ill effects.  Luckily, I didn't listen to my husband who kept insisting we needed "like ten cups of sugar."  Easy to add later if necessary, I wisely counseled.  So we boiled, mashed, and then strained into pitchers and refrigerated.  (I forgot how much grape juice stains!)  Now it's chilled, I have to say that it's quite tasty.  And jam-packed with anti-oxidants.

Yes, yes, the grape juice was good.  But it's been a long day so I opened a 2009 Marlena Torrontés from Argentina.  It's fruity and crisp.  It would be a great wine for happy hour on the deck or at the pool.  Not so bad for sitting at my laptop on a Wednesday night either.  Apparently, and I did not know this, Torrontés is only produced in Argentina.  In case you're interested:  http://www.torrontes.com/.

I Feel Bad About My Neck and Other Thoughts on Being a Woman, Nora Ephron

This book is properly titled because these really are “thoughts.” They are amusing but more thought than deeply considered idea. Ephron’s ideas and opinions breezed into my own mind like a gentle breeze and drifted out just as quickly. I was ready to classify the book as a pleasant diversion, a not unsatisfactory way to spend several hours. On the way to my smug and certain opinion that Ephron had nothing of substance to offer me, she threw me two curves that have stuck with me. Writing of the illness and death of a friend, she says, “Death is a sniper.” Wow. Exactly, I thought. This image of death as a sniper is comforting to me. By identifying death as a sniper (I see the Angel of Death with a high-powered rifle coldly drawing a bead on someone, a precise but telling red dot from the laser sight on an unsuspecting forehead. Was it the hair, the clothes, the personal hygiene that prompted the decision?). If that’s the case, then the selection is less caprice and more impulse and there is an underlying spur, no matter how slight. I find comfort in that.

The second line is about grown children: “Meanwhile, every so often, your children come to visit. They are, amazingly, completely charming people. You can’t believe you’re lucky enough to know them. They make you laugh. They make you proud. You love them madly. They survived you. You survived them.” As the parent of a teen-ager, there are some days that I clutch this thought to my chest as if it were a life preserver, and I pray (and sometimes believe) that it may perhaps be true.

I'm back!

Be honest.  You thought I was never coming back, didn't you?  I wondered myself sometimes, but knowing myself as I do, I prepared for that eventuality.  I filled my laptop with reminders - from the ever-present red, overdue reminder in my Outlook taskbar, the half-written reviews mocking me whenever I opened my personal folder, and the link to this website on my Favorites bar that I tried to pretend didn't exist and hid from like that one bad old boyfriend.  I promise I'll be better this time.