SHE IS TOO FOND OF BOOKS ~ THE SUNDAY COZE

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November is just the beginning. We’re barreling full speed into the holidays, the time of The Full Cold Moon. Winter cold fastens its grip, nights are at their longest and darkest.

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The Moon before Yule. The days are ticking away. Soon we’ll exist in a blur of ruby-red gems, parsnips and pies. I’m surrounded by people who live to eat and respect turkey and its trimmings as much as I do. We’re thoughtful and prepared ~ the road from here to the holiday is paved with parsley, sage, rosemary and, well, you know. We’ll be on it most of the time until 2014.  Gosh.  So many days ahead filled with butter, flour, sugar, chocolate and cream, heavy. And no regrets, trust me on this one.

Cookbooks are my BFFs.  I have a few. Let’s start with Jacques.  He taught me and millions of home cooks how to chop an onion and perfect a cheese soufflé.  Any cook book of his is riddled with genius.

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Need a gift?  Want one for yourself?  Pick up one of these ~

MOOSEWOOD was listed by the New York Times as one of the top ten best-selling cookbooks of all time. Sophisticated, easy-to-prepare vegetarian recipes, charming drawings, and pages of beautiful full-color food photography. Healthy and great-tasting food from Molly Katzen.

More than 225 recipes in ROOTS ~ salads, soups, side dishes, main courses, drinks, and desserts ~ that bring out the earthy goodness of veggies from artichokes to yams.

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Mark Bittman’s collection is absolutely indispensable for anyone who cooks.

Of course, everything looks better, sounds better, and tastes better in Italian.  We discuss dinner at the breakfast table.  I’m not brilliant in the kitchen but I am an authority on eating.  Italian cookbooks comfort, inspire and satisfy me. 

The holiday season can be a bit overwhelming-intimidating-oh goodness gracious what am I going to make-crazy busy. Just play. Whip up some jolly and unbearably wonderful things.  Make time for deep breathing, a little wine, old movies.  It’s living..and it feels really good.

…..

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Meet you here next Sunday.

Toni 11/17/13

Day 17

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NaBloPoMo: When is a Tweet Not a Tweet or a Cormorant Not a Cormorant? When One is the Number of Syllables in an Elizabethan Sonnet and the Other is an Anhinga. (A 420 CHARACTER, 9-LINE POEM)

When is a Tweet Not a Tweet or a Cormorant Not a Cormorant? When One is the Number of Syllables in an Elizabethan Sonnet and the Other is an Anhinga. (A 420 CHARACTER, 9-LINE POEM BY PATTY)

Double-crested Cormorant

Names don’t matter as much as what things ARE:

So, “a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,”

a Tweet is also the # of syllables in a sonnet*–or IS a sonnet–

and a cormorant is really an anhinga

who tosses & juggles fish so as to swallow it headfirst,

which is what I do when I juxtapose disparate ideas within 420 characters,

a # that USED to be the limit on Facebook “Updates”

but now I them call poems.

Names.

PATTY

* THIS IS BILLY COLLINS commenting on himself and SOCIAL MEDIA (it’s a quote I caught in the NYT and reminded me of the equality of numbers twixt the sonnet syllable count and the Tweet.): “I can proudly say that I’ve never tweeted, but I am struck by the apparent coincidence of the 140 characters — sounds like a Balzac novel — and the 140 syllables in the Elizabethan sonnet. Instead of tweeting that you had great pizza tonight, why not read some haiku byBuson? Doesn’t poetry seem just right for our ever shrinking attention spans?”

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