global weirding*

They may have canceled fall in New York**, but here in Virginia it's still going strong. In fact in many ways this was the most fall-like fall I remember spending here. It didn't start until November, which was a bit odd (October, as I remember it, we bounced around between summer temperatures and winter ones), but once it hit, it stayed. The last of the dull red burnished leaves blew off our dogwood yesterday; down the block there is a stand of gingkos still gloriously golden (pardon the alliteration), and vibrant red ornamental maples flame out all over town. The weather is crisp and clear--it gets cold overnight, and we've had a little rain and a lot of wind. All in all, it feels like mid- to late October in New England.

The fact that it's December is, however, deeply weird.

*I read somewhere recently that this was a better description of climate change than "global warming." I can't find the source now, though.

**I would swear I read a short, funny piece in the New York Times (or maybe The New Yorker?) about how fall is now being canceled after a very long run. But I can't find that, either.

Here we are again

Apparently every two years I blog about Hallowe'en; I'm not sure what happens in the intervening years. But I do know my feelings haven't changed much. It's not really my holiday, and I think my attitude is rubbing off on the kids. We still don't have pumpkins (they're on my list for today--think I can get them at half-price?), and Nick was so casual about his costume that it wasn't until a night or two ago that I realized he actually was expecting to go as something, not just pull a "costume" (ninja warrior, anyone? We've got the uniform!) together at the last minute. Which is why I found myself browsing the racks in Walgreen's Monday night, where I found a black grim reaper/ghoul robe for him and some face paint. So that's done. I also did actually remember to buy candy, though increasingly I don't like handing it out--after the first onslaught of cute babies in pumpkin buntings and toddlers dressed as princesses and bunnies, it devolves into teenagers without costumes and, saddest of all, uncostumed young moms pushing uncostumed babies in strollers who silently hold open a bag as if to say "this is my dinner." I always hope it isn't.

I'm also feeling slightly out of sorts because the weather has changed but the time hasn't. Does it really make a difference to energy usage for us to push the shift back to Standard Time so much later than usual? It will still be dark when the kids come in from trick-or-treating--it may already be when they go out, in fact--and it's dark in the morning when Mariah and I get up. All I know is I'm looking forward to that "extra" hour of sleep this weekend.

Thanksgiving recipes, #2: Garlicky Cranberry Chutney

It looks like I don't quite qualify for NaBloPoMo because I'm posting on two different blogs. Ah, well. I didn't sign up in time, anyway, so I'm really just doing it for the glory, not the prizes. Or something. (I'm on the list anyway...scroll down from that above link, if you care!)

And I am really trying to post every day, just to see if I can. So here's today's effort, another Thanksgiving recipe. You need to know that my family thinks cranberry sauce is one of the vegetables on the Thanksgiving table. Or two or three of them, actually. We do usually try to provide something green, but there's lots of the red stuff: often three or four varieties. My dad likes cranberry-orange relish. Others like Mama Stamberg's cranberry-horseradish concoction--something I have to confess I have never tasted, though it certainly looks pretty. Then some plain whole-berry sauce (but I said "plain," so skip the orange zest!) is nice, and I even really like the jellied cylinder that comes right out of the can and can be cut into neat round slices.

But my own favorite is this garlicky chutney, loosely adapted from a recipe Susan Stamberg posted along with the horseradish one (in fact if you scroll down from the above link you'll find her version). Here's how I do it: easy and delicious.

Ingredients:
1 12-oz. bag cranberries
1 cup sugar
1 cup water

1-inch fresh ginger (or 2-3 tbs. chopped ginger)
3 cloves finely chopped garlic
1/2 cup apple cider vinegar
4 tbs. sugar
1/8 tsp. cayenne pepper
1/2 tsp. salt (or less)
ground black pepper
1/2 cup toasted walnuts or pecans (optional, but I think they make the dish)

Combine the first three ingredients in a saucepan, bring to a boil, and simmer for 10-12 minutes, or until the berries pop. Let cool. (If you're in a hurry, just use a can of whole-berry sauce here.)

Cut ginger into paper-thin slices, stack slices and cut into really thin slivers (or, use the pre-chopped stuff in the jar, as suggested above).

Combine ginger, garlic, vinegar, sugar and cayenne in a small pot. Bring to a simmer, then simmer over medium heat until there are about 4 tbs. of liquid left. Add the cranberry sauce, salt, and pepper; mix and bring to a simmer. Simmer on gentle heat for about ten minutes. Cool before serving. If desired, stir in 1/2 cup toasted nuts, just before serving.

Thanksgiving recipes, #1: sweet potatoes anna

I think we're gathering with friends this year for Thanksgiving, so I'm starting to think about the various fabulous sides and desserts I can bring. This one has been a family tradition on my side of the family for over a decade now, I think: I just tracked it down in an email from 1999, at which point we'd been making it for a while. It is for those people who prefer their sweet potatoes savory--I have another terrific sweet potato recipe for a more dessert-like concoction--and it does take some time, but it's well worth it. Here it is:

Sweet Potatoes Anna

5 sweet potatoes, peeled
2 leeks, whites only
6 tbsp butter, melted
1 tbsp chopped fresh thyme, or 1 tsp dried
salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 375. Slice potatoes very thinly (1/8"); cut leeks in half lengthwise and slice those thinly as well. Butter a round, shallow 10" baking dish. Arrange a layer of potato slices in the pan in overlapping circles. Brush with 1/4 of the melted butter, top with half the leeks & thyme, s&p. Repeat with another layer of potatoes, the remaining leeks & thyme, then a final layer of potatoes. Brush the top layer with melted butter. (Yes, you are using a lot of butter. It's worth it.) Cover the pan with foil, and weight it with a heavy skillet to bake for 30 minutes. Remove the skillet & foil, baste with the remaining butter, and bake uncovered for another 30 minutes. Cool for 15 minutes and then turn out of the baking dish onto a plate before serving, and prepare for compliments.

the names of the trees

I don't know most of them. The big tree on our corner is an elm, one that so far hasn't succumbed to Dutch Elm disease. It's already lost most of its leaves. When I park the car on that side of the street I drive on top of a thick carpet, almost up to the curb. They're wet and springy and and slippery. What's left on the tree are brown and dead-looking.

In front of the house the crape myrtle still has most of its leaves. In the interior, among the multiple trunks, the leaves are still green, tipped with light yellow. Moving outward they turn more yellow, then gold, then orange, then almost red at the tips of the branches. This tree is only about as tall as I am; a few years ago it was taller, but there was an accident on our corner and a car ended up on top of the tree, pushing it down to the ground. Amazingly, it has come back, with more trunks than before.

In the backyard the dogwood still has leaves and they are a dark, burnished red. No matter how bright the sun they don't really catch the light as the red maple leaves do; they look dull but rich.

A block or so away there's a stand of gingkos. Their leaves are so yellow they look, from a distance, like flowering trees with blossoms as bright as forsythias. In the late afternoon, when the sun is low, they look lit up from within and below, glowing a deep bright golden yellow.

There are a few more I know but not many. And I can't quite capture the colors when I photograph them; that late, low light just doesn't come through in my pictures. They look almost on fire, some of them, and as I drive down the street away from the sun the remaining elms and their younger, newer cousins, whatever they are, lean across the street making a canopy of flaming color to drive through. I wish I knew all their names.

must be the weekend

because I've been baking. Every other meal, I think, since Friday evening: casserole that night, (Nigella's granola) muffins the next morning, biscuits with dinner Saturday, (pumpkin) muffins this morning, and flatbread with dinner tonight. It's madness, but no one complains.

This morning's muffins, below, are shamelessly ripped off from Susan, who got the idea elsewhere. Yum.



BTW, this recipe is basically what I did, though I only just discovered that. I actually made mine from a recipe for pumpkin bread from a falling-apart paperback cookbook, The Art of Cooking for Two, that I always just scoop into muffin cups instead. So I didn't do the nice cinnamon-sugar top, but otherwise it's really almost the same, except that I used a cup of brown sugar rather than the 1-1/4 called for, and two cups flour (one each white & whole wheat).

fall in Virginia

If I earlier disparaged the fall colors in Virginia, I now retract that false and erroneous statement and give you this:




Thanks to H for reminding me.