midweek delights
What I'm reading, listening to, cooking, learning from during the first week of October
It’s been a while since I’ve written my weekly list of delights because, well, not so many delights.
Actually, I’m exaggerating: I turned in the manuscript for my next book, On Permission, to my wonderful team at Godine, and that has been both terrorizing and a delight. (More to come on the terror issue in an upcoming post about book-writing and the state of the publishing world; for those of you who don’t know, I was a longtime acquisitions editor in big five publishing for many years, acquired sixteen New York Times bestsellers, and then fled to the other side of the desk. I have seen some things, as they say, and have survived many bloody battles — some of them my own — that have led me to this place. Meaning: as a publisher, acquisitions editor, publishing consultant, author consultant and author, I’ve worn every single one of the hats, so if you’re of the mind to write a book and have some or many or any questions, fire away. Otherwise, stay tuned.)
The other not-so-many delights: some health stuff (not mine), a dog with dementia, coffers that are nearly bare at a time in my life when they shouldn’t be, an irascible and jealous elderly mother who reminds me of the I-will-not-be-ignored scene in Fatal Attraction.
But. BUT. The good stuff:
My dear friend, brilliant cookbook author Sandra Gutierrez, has written LatinÃsimo, a landmark book on the food of Latin America, and it is an instant classic. I’ve known Sandra for many years, and I’ve watched her publish wonderful single-subject books on everything from Latin American street food to Empanadas to the The New Southern-Latino Table — the explosion of flavors and traditions that come from the marriage of these two extraordinary culinary traditions. But LatinÃsimo is a sweeping, encyclopedic exploration of everyday home recipes and cultural history from the twenty-one countries of Latin America; these are recipes that you will want to cook regularly, and that you will make part of your culinary life. This cookbook belongs in every American home kitchen and beyond.
Andy Thorn, the genius banjo player in Leftover Salmon has a neighbor with whom he watches the sun come up every day at his home in Boulder, Colorado. This neighbor is a great lover of clawhammer banjo, and when Andy plays it to welcome a new day, the neighbor comes by, sits and listens, hangs out for a bit, and then leaves. The neighbor is a fox. Andy made an album of this foxy music called Songs of the Sunrise Fox, and I am playing it on repeat and so should you. In a world that continues to slip further into the sh***er every day, we need this. (Also, he’s a super nice guy.)
If you haven’t heard: the long-awaited documentary about Joan Baez’s life is just out, and is getting raves. There’s not a lot to write about legends like Joan — so much has been said and written — but it’s important that we continue to return to her story and her work, over and over again, especially now. I have been a fan for a very long time, and was thrilled when my new publisher, Godine, released her book Am I Pretty When I Fly — a collection of her sketches drawn upside down and with her non-dominant hand. (As one does.)
A few years ago, I started to make a habit of only bringing into my home things that I expressly love and that are made well (I hate plastic anything). Often, this extends to vintage clothing, cookware, books, pens (I came home from Maine with a pair of vintage Frye boots that might as well have been made for me, and were pretty much never worn). It’s now October and a lot of us are starting to think about the upcoming holidays, so I’m including a smattering of things that mean and continue to mean a great deal to me, in this world of the plastic and disposable:
Netherton Foundry Pans. I first saw Gill Meller and Diana Henry use these lightweight iron pans, which are made by a great small company in Shropshire, England. I’ve roasted in mine (chicken, fish, vegetables), made frittatas, seared scallops, cooked a steak, baked pasta. They are carried in some great retail shops in the US (like the terrific Strata in Portland, Maine) and also through the Garrett Wade catalog, but I’m pretty certain you can order them directly.
Fog Linens. Heavy, dense linen aprons and towels are really wonderful to use and wear, so much so that I have a design writer friend who collects vintage ones at tag sales and antique shops. I fell in love with a Fog Linen cross-back apron a few years ago, and then couldn’t figure out how the hell to put it on until the author of Milltown, Kerri Arsenault, showed Susan, and I filmed it in Kerri’s lovely kitchen, and now it’s all I’ll wear.
Sam Gleeson Knives: I met Sam in Ireland a few years ago, when Diana Henry and I were lucky enough to be leading a writing workshop at Glin Castle in Limerick. Sam is a master at a lot of things, but what he does best is make knives, and I cherish mine and treat it like a baby. A bladesmith devoted to his craft using remarkable materials — found steel sheets, handles from fallen tree limbs — it is very much worth it to get on his waiting list. Sam is an incredible artisan, and the last time I saw him he was doing a stint teaching in Pennsylvania, so keep an eye out for him.
Peg & Awl: Years back, Susan bought me a little Peg & Awl zippered pouch in which to carry my pens (I am that writer who needs a pouch for her pens). After that came a Sendak Mini Artists Roll, and then, a satchel. I did some research, and learned that these people were making some truly lovely things by repurposing textiles. Eventually, they added some gorgeous artwork to the mix (and their young son Søren is also a gob-smacking artist), and then jewelry. I began a correspondence with co-founder Margaux Kent when she included in her Instagram feed a ring emblazoned with the phrase SOLVITUR AMBULANDO — It is solved by walking — which I write about in Motherland. (Disclosure: Margaux sent one to me and I treasure it and wear it all the time, but I’ve been a Peg & Awl fanatic for years,)
Have a lovely weekend —-
So wonderful to read your Joyful posts today. You are a blessing to so many of us.
My banjo has been collecting dust lately and Andy just made me want to resurrect her!