Linky Love: Possibly the Ugliest and Most Tasteless Shoe I Have Ever Seen

Are you Too Hot to Trot? This link was too good not to share. My daughter found it and I thought it needed to be passed on. Don’t you want this fashion statement in your closet?

via Small World News Service

P.S. All the proceeds for the sale of these boots at the Cheltenham (England) Festival horse race go to charity. Just don’t give the boots to charity; they may not want them.

I Love David Lebovitz (as a cyberfan, of course)

I started linking up some favorite posts from David Lebovitz on my Facebook page, but then realized he needed to be shared with a broader audience. I love everything about David’s blog, Living the Sweet Life in Paris — his erudite yet informal style and most of all, his luscious photographs. Here’s a recap of some recent posts to whet your appetite (pun intended)!

To start with, let’s talk about Food Blogger Camp. Can you imagine going to Mexico with some famous food bloggers and photographers to learn how to write about and take photos of food? I’m ready to sign up right now!

And then there’s David’s Paris and Lausanne Chocolate and Gastronomy Tour in May. It’s a good thing it’s sold out, because it’s mighty tempting to take some personal days to participate in this incredible adventure. Hopefully someday I’ll be able to share this experience with my French-at-heart sister-in-law and other friends.

 

Since I recently went to Paris and experienced the lack-o-sandwich and street food, I thought David’s recent post on the growth of  Subway sandwich shops and other take-out sandwich places was very interesting. We got take-out croissant sandwiches from a little shop in the Jardin des Tuileries and enjoyed people watching.

Of course, if you love chocolate and can’t get to Paris, there’s always Hershey, Pennsylvania. You can sample the gastronomic delights of numerous restaurants and cap off your meal with something sinfully chocolicious. Maybe I’ll see you there.


Book Review: In the Company of Others

I was pretty excited to find a new Father Tim novel in the audiobook section of my library. I get it; reading Jan Karon is like wearing Christmas sweaters. I’m sure Stacy and Clinton would rip Karon’s books out of my bookshelf, but I am Jennie and I admit to reading all of the Father Tim books more than once. I don’t think I require a 12-step intervention program for my sappiness.

The novel held promise; Father Tim and Cynthia go on a birthday present trip to Ireland, the home of both of their ancestors. He wants to take his beloved wife back to a place he fell in love with when he was single. When Cynthia injures her ankle and is forced to stay at the fishing lodge for the entire trip rather than do the sightseeing they had planned, Father Tim gets embroiled in a local mystery and the personal lives of the innkeepers. This is not surprising since apparently, once a minister, always a minister, and he can’t say no to helping bring people to God.

Unlike some of the Amazon reviewers, I loved the construct of Cynthia and Father Tim reading an old journal written in the early 1800s about the neighborhood. I thought Karon did a nice job weaving the ensemble’s stories together and the journal gave the reader insight into the troubled history of Ireland without hitting us over the head about it. Generally, I think that Jan Karon treats her readers with respect; she give us just enough factoids so that we understand the sociological point she is trying to make while still believing that we can engage our prior knowledge to figure stuff out.

Reviewers also commented having difficulties with the Irish dialogue.  I enjoyed the audiobook version of this novel and since I never saw how Karon wrote it out on paper, I can’t really comment on its readability. I do know that hearing the Irish bits helped me to understand them and I probably would have skipped over them otherwise. It was kind of charming to “hear” Father Tim try to speak Irish.

In the Company of Others: A Father Tim Novel is NOT a Mitford book and don’t expect it to be. If, however, you are interested in Irish culture, Father Tim and Cynthia are the same gentle people in a new environment and this book is worth a read.

Bookin’ and Cookin’: A Moveable Feast

In this Friday series, I combine two of my favorite things, reading and cooking. That probably means there will also be discussion of more than a few books made into movies. I hope that you will be moved to offer suggestions for other reads that will be “palateable”!

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, you are likely to remember that I spent most of last year enjoying books about France and books and movies set in France to improve my cultural knowledge before my summer 2010 trip to Paris and Normandy. Although I purchased Ernest Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast before the trip, somehow I didn’t quite get around to reading it until after we came home. As it turns out, I’m glad that it worked out that way, because A Moveable Feast is truly a feast for the reader as Hemingway presents the banquet of experiences that was Paris in the 1920s.

Paris is not the same today as it was during Hemingway’s years there, but I was certainly charmed by both the magic of Paris and the magic of Hemingway’s sharp, clear text structure. I could imagine myself at Shakespeare and Company

and at Les Deux Magots enjoying wine or coffee along with fabulous people-watching.

Surrounded by a cloud of literary and artistic angels, Hemingway’s book of essays is a must read. If you read them as a inexperienced high school student, read A Moveable Feast again.

Following our stay in Paris, we moved on to a river cruise along the Seine from Paris to Normandy. It was enchanting and relaxing after the bustle of Paris and our tour of the D-Day beaches was a moving highlight of the cruise, but an equally important part of the trip was the extraordinary food. I am still marveling at the ease of traveling on a riverboat with only 150 passengers — the most difficult part of the restaurant experience was making sure there was a table that would fit our group of six. With only one seating, the tables filled up quickly. I have only positive things to say about traveling on the Viking Spirit. Just in case you’re worried about traveling in France as I was, don’t worry. We found most of the people we met delightful and it was a wonderful trip — I blogged about my reactions here when we returned.

So,  I will leave you with a Viking recipe for gougères, a French cheese biscuit that is often served as an appetizer. It’s super easy to make and very tasty. Thanks to Viking Cruise Lines for this recipe, which I borrowed verbatim from their Facebook page.

Gougères are among the most popular hors d’oeuvres in France. A traditional specialty of the Burgundy region, gruyères are often made with gruyère cheese, but sometimes other cheeses (such as parmesan) are used to add an extra depth. Enjoy gougères with a glass (or two) of good French wine. Experience a little piece of France at home with this delicious recipe.

Ingredients:

One and one-half cups water

One-half cup butter, cut into cubes

One and one-half cups flour (unbleached, all-purpose)

Six large eggs

One cup (packed) grated gruyère cheese

One-half cup (packed) good-quality parmesan

One-half teaspoon fresh ground pepper

One-half teaspoon salt

Directions:
Place one rack in top third and a second in the bottom third of oven; preheat to 400°F. Line two rimmed baking sheets with parchment paper, lightly greased with non-stick cooking spray.In a 3- to 4-quart pan over medium heat, bring the water, butter and salt to a simmer, stirring until the butter melts. Add flour all at once, and stir rapidly with a wooden spoon until mixture is a smooth, thick paste with no lumps. Remove pan from heat and allow mixture to cool. Using a hand-held mixer, beat in one egg at a time until all are incorporated. Stir in cheese and pepper.

Using a tablespoon, drop 48 equal mounds of dough onto parchment-lined baking sheets, spacing each mound three inches apart. Bake until dough is puffed, and looks dry and golden brown, about 30 minutes. Halfway though cooking, reverse the positions of the baking pans.

Makes 10-12 servings.

Things I Love: An Ode to Flip-Flops

In my inner movie, my memories of France will be forever punctuated by a very special sound. The roar of motorbikes as they sped between lanes of traffic? The tinkle of glasses and silverware floating out of upper-floor open windows in the sultry July summer? The sound of street and subway musicians pouring their souls out on their instruments? Yes, to all of those. But the sound I will most remember is the flap, flap, flap of my trusty flip-flops as I trudged up and down the Metro staircases and sauntered along hallways in museums. You could almost call it a comfort sound, like the lullaby your mother sings or the feeling you get when hearing a favorite hymn.

And comfortable it was. At the last minute before we left on the trip, I decided to purchase a pair of bejeweled thick-soled flip-flops to use as an antidote to the sturdy shoes I planned to wear during days of sightseeing. As it turned out, that last-minute decision was a life saver.

I wore the flip-flops at Versailles after we got drenched in the rain outside the Petit Trianon.

I wore the flip-flops in the evenings on the cruise ship after my feet and ankles swelled from all the salt in those delectable sauces.

I even wore them the last day in Paris, when that tender place between my toes was broken in and the soft foam sole was all that I could handle after twelve days of sightseeing.

I didn’t take any photos of people’s feet in Paris, but if I had, you would see thousands of flip-flops. All sizes, shapes, and styles, and they weren’t all on tacky American feet. The French wear flip-flops, too, but they are likely to be trendy Havaianas.

NRB gave me “that look” when I suggested we bring home Paris flip-flops as souvenirs, but really, isn’t a good flip-flop the ultimate in thoughtful gift-giving?

Packing a Suitcase: Works for Me Wednesday

Packing light has never been easy for me and my husband. We call it “going full Griswold” but it’s not nearly as funny as Chevy Chase made it appear in National Lampoon’s European Vacation. We are at that certain age when shorts and tee shirts aren’t appropriate and we often wear more than one change of clothes in a day. He has very large and heavy size 12 shoes and I can’t seem to travel without about five pairs. And yes, we each pack our own suitcase, which leads us to part of our problem. Duplicates.

For our summer trips this year, we tried some new ideas that I had read about on the various travel sites I follow. It was difficult to break our old patterns and we weren’t totally successful, but we incorporated three ideas that did work.

  1. Use compression and zip lock bags to separate and protect clothing. We put our outfits (pants, shirt, socks, underwear) in gallon size bags, press the air out of them, and throw them in the suitcase. They keep the clothing reasonably wrinkle free and when we are finished with the outfit, it goes back into the bag dirty, thus protecting other clothing. You could even have a 3×5 notecard with “dirty” on one side and “clean” on the other in each baggie. Then you know what you need to wash when it’s time to do laundry. Take a few extra baggies of various sizes with you. They are miracle workers — in France I needed an ice pack and voila! My extra baggie full of ice worked wonders. Of course, you should practice being green by reusing the bags every time you travel.
  2. Pack large bags so that you only have to open up one at a time. It is such a pain to try to work around two large suitcases in a hotel room or someone’s guest room. I’m trying to forget what it was like when we traveled with kids, but I know it was even worse than it is now that we are empty nesters. If you use the baggie method of packing, you have everything all separated out and all you have to do is pull out one baggie for the next day for each person. The other piece(s) of luggage can remain in the car or stored in the hotel room closet until you need to break it open.
  3. Don’t take duplicate toiletries. It’s easy to forget to plan for this when people are throwing stuff into their personal carry-ons at the last minute. Even if one of you uses sensitive toothpaste and the other doesn’t, somebody can compromise for a couple of weeks. We used to take two sets of band-aids, two sets of shampoos and gels, two sets of painkillers, and sometimes two hair dryers … you get the picture. On our trip to France, we still ended up with two bottles of the medication we both take, and that was totally unnecessary. Give some thought to what you can share and how much you will need.

I’m determined to pack even lighter the next time. I’m looking for the perfect pair of shoes that can be worn with skirts and pants, has a relatively sturdy sole that can take a beating, and is deep enough to take my orthotic inserts. If you have found this pair of shoes, let me know!

This post is linked up at We Are That Family: Works for Me Wednesday. Check out what other bloggers have done to improve their lives!

Top Ten Tuesday: Things I Learned about France

Having just gotten home from a two-week trip to France, I’m full of ideas about which to write. Taking advantage of the alliteration provided by TTT, I’ll quickly give you some first reflections.

Paris is a city where its history stands right next to its future. It is as romantic or as razor-sharp as you need it to be. Paris is a classic city and I loved it.

The Normandy villages and countryside provide a delicate contrast to Paris. They are laid-back and drowsy in the summer sun. The English style half-timbered houses alongside traditional French stone chateaus and ancient fortresses tell a story of a region that changed hands many times.  It is also a modern district of busy harbors, orchards laden with fruit, and memories of how other countries came to France’s aid in 1944 to rescue her from an occupying monstrous invader. A leisurely river cruise along the Seine was the perfect antidote to the passion of Paris.

  1. You don’t have to wear all black in Paris. Yes, it doesn’t hurt to have a classic black dress that you can dress up or down with scarves and jewelry, but in July, people are wearing everything. There are tourists everywhere and the streets are full of people in every style of clothing from every country.
  2. People really do wear scarves all the time in Paris and the countryside. Bring one from home to get you started and then go immediately to the street vendors by Notre Dame Cathedral on the Ile de la Cité and buy three new ones for ten Euros. Parisian style is easy and cheap to come by.
  3. It’s worth it to climb up to the top of at least one monument. The views of Paris from the top of the Pantheon, the Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower, and the Basilique Sacré-Coeur (the mother of all views) are not to be missed.
  4. Public transportation is cheap and easy to use. The Metro and RER are well marked and there are always people around who know how to use the machines to help you. Just don’t expect elevators and escalators. There are lots of steps between levels.
  5. The taxi drivers really do go out on strike. On July 19, 2010, we took a 6:15 AM taxi to Charles de Gaulle for a 12:15 flight in order to avoid a strike, and it’s a good thing our concierge told us about it on Sunday night. We decided it was better to be safe than sorry, so we took a very early cab. Our taxi driver told us that the taxis were going to block all the entrances to CDG at 7:00 AM and they did.
  6. Hotel rooms in Paris are small; get over it. Since you really can’t get much takeout food to eat in your room and the English speaking television is limited, there isn’t any good reason other than sleeping and “resting” to be in your room. You’re in Paris, for goodness sake! We were very lucky to book room 701 at the Best Western Hotel Folkestone Opera which is a little larger and has a full size tub. It was still small by American standards but met our needs very nicely and was reasonable.
  7. People in France are generally pleasant to tourists and many speak enough English to help you. Since I live in a big city (Chicago) and have traveled to New York and other big cities, I didn’t find Paris particularly different in its demeanor. Our hotel concierge Virginie and the rest of the staff all spoke enough English to help us and so did most of the waiters in the restaurants. Between my husband’s high school French and my Spanish (with a few gestures thrown in), we didn’t have much trouble being understood and understanding. It was good for our brains!
  8. If you want to be taken seriously in a serious restaurant, wear something appropriate, speak softly, and don’t order French fries and a hamburger. The food is fabulous; enjoy the experience.
  9. French women are thinner and have smaller bone structure than Americans; it’s a fact of life and genetics. Unless you are pretty thin and have small shoulders, you probably aren’t going to fit into much in the stores. Even the plus sizes have a smaller upper body structure. Buy something else to bring home as a souvenir of your trip.
  10. There are ugly Americans everywhere, but you don’t have to be one. Our cruising family included a woman who ordered others around, talked loudly to the ship staff and shopkeepers to get her point across, and was generally annoying. Look around you; figure out what the locals are doing and follow their lead. You won’t be disappointed because you won’t have any need to complain.

I have lots more to tell you and lots of photos to share. Until then, bonne journée!

Julia and Joann Revisited

This post was originally published on Journeys with Jennie on January 9, 2010. I revisit it today because I so wish Joann were here to share my excitement about going to France. I’ve fear I’ve read too much about the Parisians, however, — my usually stalwart soul has been a little intimidated by all the negative comments about the rudeness of Paris citizens in the memoirs I have read. I figured I needed some positive vibes about Paris,  so I watched Julie and Julia again to buoy up my spirits. Despite all of the times I have watched the movie, I never listened to the commentary by Nora Ephron. If you have not done so, DO IT NOW! It is illuminating and gives a fresh perspective on a lovely movie. And thank you to Suzanne, Terri, Michele, Lisa, Tim, Martha, and Dorothy, who all said that I was crazy to worry about being in Paris. I love you and I will eat multiple pastries in your honor.

January 9, 2010: Julia and Joann

On Monday it will be eleven years since my beloved mother-in-law passed away. Joann was a child of the Depression, raised on a farm in Ohio, and was a part of a close-knit Mennonite family. Her trajectory from a stunningly beautiful young woman at Goshen College, through her years as a respected and beloved teacher in Rye, New York, and finally to her retirement in Arizona as the “hostess with the mostest” is one to be admired. She was kind, generous, and although she was not without her mistakes, she welcomed me and my son into her family with open arms. I miss her every day. Since we inherited some of Joann’s prized possessions, including her cookbook collection, I am surrounded by memories of her. This is how I came to have a 1961 copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking on my bookshelf.

At some point in her mature adult years Joann became enamored of all things “Country French.” Although she and my father-in-law traveled extensively in the United States when their sons were young, they turned their sights farther afield when the boys left the nest. They traveled all over Europe and went to Russia, Egypt, and India. They were on one of the first tourist groups into China and regaled us with the stories of the “luxurious” dormitory-style accommodations those early groups encountered. She tracked down her Mennonite relatives in France and visited the ancestral farm. Joann and Art hoped to instill their love of travel in their grandchildren and took each of them on a trip of his or her choosing for a graduation present. But, Joann wasn’t just cruising through these countries. Among her books are photo essays on the culture, furniture, ceramics, glassware, and art of the places she visited and wanted to visit. Joann’s amazing intellectual curiosity and love of beautiful things kept her vibrant right up until her last days.

It was always France that drew her back, though. She collected French pottery and furniture, and redecorated her houses around her collections. She scoured antique stores looking for just the right piece and it seemed like she bought every piece of Quimper that she ever encountered. As I have studied Quimper faience pottery, however, I find that she did actually specialize, and it is interesting that Joann mostly bought pieces from the Henriot factory that were made in the early 1900s during war times in France. Maybe it was the relatively inexpensive price, but I’d like to think that the earthy Breton peasant people who inhabit these plates reminded Joann of her farm roots, even though she moved far away from them as an adult.

The other thing that Joann collected and educated herself about was cookbooks and cooking. She found that when she moved to suburban New York she needed to upgrade her expertise and staple recipes in order to participate appropriately in her new social circles. In her cookbook, she would write the date and a list of the guests next to the recipe that she served them so that she would not repeat it the next time, and this is something my husband and I still do today. Joann’s cookbooks are a treasure trove of information about the life she and Art lived and how they entertained, and they bring back memories of meals that she cooked for us. I can remember being picked up at the airport after a trip through O’Hare and La Guardia airports with two small children at Christmas time, and arriving in Rye to find an amazing meal almost ready for us. She purchased jumbo shrimp through a seafood buyer — they really were jumbo, that’s not an oxymoron! — and we always looked forward to her cooking.

So, that brings us back to Mastering the Art of French Cooking. There are parallels to be found between Joann and Julia. Both were women who reinvented themselves as their lives demanded. Although Julia was not blessed with children, her life-long love affair with her husband is similar to the more than fifty happy years of marriage Joann and Art enjoyed. One of the reasons that Julia learned to cook was that she needed to entertain Paul Child’s business associates, and by the time Mastering the Art of French Cooking was published in 1961, Joann was also trying to be an executive wife to her upwardly mobile husband.

It is disappointing to me to find out that apparently she did not use this cookbook because it is almost pristinely clean. You can see from my photo that it still has its original dust jacket with just a small tear in it. I wonder where she got it; did she buy the cookbook herself or did someone give it to her? It is a Book Club edition; did she get it because it was the most popular cookbook of its day and it just came automatically? I wish I could ask her, but both she and Art are now gone and the minutiae of their daily lives is gone with them. Since, thanks to Joann and Art, I live with beautiful antiques all of the time, I refuse to feel guilty about using my 49 year old copy of Julia. I intend to read it, to cook from it, and that will probably include getting it dirty. We will write in it just as Joann taught us, and I can’t help but think that both she and Julia would be proud. Je t’aime, Joann.

On the Road: To Recline or Not to Recline

As I prepare to board a trans-Atlantic flight, the seat back reclining issue is rearing its very ugly head. I am what my good friend refers to as “fluffy” and there is not enough room in a coach seat for me AND for you.

I thought that this post, The Etiquette of Seat Backs and Elbow Room, was a good set of reminders about airplane travel etiquette. And no, I don’t think your little darling peeking over the seat at me is cute for more than one or two minutes. When I had little darlings, I tried valiantly to keep them from bothering the other passengers, and I expect the same from you.

I’m just sayin’… see you at the airport.

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