clatter goes literary!

Bear with me, folks, this one’s going to be a novel. (Hardy har har…you’ll get my joke in a few moments.)

Sometimes when I'm at work, stumped on a tough case, I am forced to reach deep within myself to come up with an argument. Perhaps it doesn't have much viability, but I make the argument anyway because that's what I'm paid to do. Coming up with something when there's little to nothing to go off of can be a frustrating task, but it can also be fun to bring out that creative side that I often miss being in the legal profession. When I think with fondness back to my college days, I melt into those memories of small, intimate comparative literature classes like Symbolism & Decadence and Dada & Surrealism (if anyone is interested in a “surrealistic game night” let me know, I still have the book). As I worked through that comparative literature curriculum at USC, I read graphic novels, listened to operas, and pored over black and white photographs. I made comparisons and connections from one medium to another, sometimes so remote, so out there, that anyone outside of the department would likely exclaim, “Seriously? You’re connecting Jacques Lacan with reality television?” (Yes, that’s what I did for my senior paper.)

As bizarre and impractical as a comp lit major may seem (it’s no wonder I ended up in law school), I loved studying it because it allowed me to read/hear/see all sorts of things in the way I wanted to interpret them. Of course sometimes it's good to have black and white, to determine right from wrong, so that there's no room to falter or to get lost. But getting “lost” isn't always such a bad thing, is it? In the same space that there's room to falter, there's also room to grow, to flourish, to find something that wasn't there before. It may be so last season, but as far as I see it, gray is still the new black. It's good to realize that you can take something and read between the lines if and how you want to. That's what makes reading so enjoyable, and cooking so fun.

By this point, you may be asking, "Is this clatter from the kitchen, or clutter from the brain?" Well, friends, it's a little bit of both. This has been my attempt to introduce my challenge in the most convoluted way I know how. My apologies. As much as I love to read, I've found that in the craziness that is working the day job, maintaining good relationships, and managing to keep my kitchen (somewhat) clean, reading books has somehow fallen to the wayside. This has become a thorn in my side, a dagger to my book lover’s heart if you will. So, as part of my goal-oriented year, I've made it my intention to get back to my roots and read more, in the truest sense of leisure. I’ve decided to stick with American literature, specifically novels that I've wanted to read but never got around to.

Here’s where things get a little interesting: since I've used literature in my past to make comparisons in opera, graphic novels, and photography, I figured why not take it a step further and connect it to food? Don’t worry, I won't write comparative literature theses or complex ingredient-to-literary element analysis (although that’s not a half bad idea…). I'm merely going to share what I've read and take you back to what The New York Times’s food section was up to the year the book I've read was written. I'll admit that a big part of this project is a way to work my way through 150 years of recipe redux from Amanda Hesser's monstrosity, The Essential New York Times Cookbook. So far, all the recipes I’ve tried (both on and off the clatter record) have been superb, and I’m excited to tackle some more. Even if all else fails, I’ll try my hand as a book critic, as I’m afraid I’ve already reached my capacity in culinary-related adjectives to ever make it as a food critic.

So, does this challenge sound like a plan? If so, I’m glad – and I will be even more so if I’m found to be influential enough (of Oprah proportions) to inspire you to read. If not, you can just skip over those posts. Just don’t tell me you're not reading them, or I might cry.

Without further ado……..let’s give it a shot.

Book: Light in August
Author: William Faulkner
Year: 1932

clatter’s nutshell summary and review: I’ve read Faulkner before, but I had no idea what this one was about – I just knew it was one I should read. We have three characters, all of whom in their own way become obsessed with a single idea. Lena is on a mission to find the father of her unborn child by traveling alone, swollen, in the humidity of the South in the summer. (As one who once experienced Alabama in August, I would say that this was no small feat). Then there’s Joe Christmas, a troubled man with a disturbing past who can never seem to find peace with the fact that he is half-black. And finally, there’s Reverend Hightower, who has a weird fascination with his grandfather's death. Faulkner entwines each of these characters in the same intriguing way that made Lost such a good show. (I'm sure I just sent ol' Willy rolling in his grave by giving such a comparison, but it's still true. Oh, and don’t you dare tell me how Lost ends – I’m still a season behind!) He gives us some beautifully written passages, but also some stream-of-consciousness stuff (especially those visions of Confederate soldiers) that may cause your eyes to glaze over. Even so, I enjoyed the character angst, the thread of racial struggle in the South, and all those other elements that make this novel what many literary-inclined folk would consider one of America's greatest.

clatter’s favorite quotation(s): "'I reckon she knows where she is going . . . She walks like it.'" I strive to have people say that about me. AND "Memory believes before knowing remembers. Believes longer than recollects, longer than knowing even wonders." Hello, mind blower!

clatter’s food moment: Food and the act of eating are mentioned in several scenes throughout the book, but more in terms of the lack thereof (that poor starving Joe!). I made sure to have one hand in a bag of pretzels when I read those parts to make me feel less empty inside.

Recipe: "Pralines"
Date: November 14, 1937
NY Times: “The Housewife Welcomes a Bumper Nut Crop” by Edda Morgan

clatter’s thoughts: First things first, I love that title – think I can bring some street cred to the word “bumper”? Of course the first book I picked to read this year happened to have the copyright of a year when apparently nothing was happening. It’s not just 1932 though; there are a very few recipes throughout the cookbook from the entire decade (I’ll remember this for future book choices). 1937 was the closest thing I came across – and it was either pralines or Boston baked beans. Not only are pralines more appropriate considering the setting of the book, more than that – I’ve been needing an excuse to try my new candy thermometer! (If I hadn't already bored you to tears from such a long post, I would tell you the story of how I felt I was being actively pursued by the salad sample guy at Whole Foods tonight when I bought the pecans to make these.) But anyway, what a simple recipe this was – well, sorta. I’ve never been a candy maker, so I didn’t realize quite the warp speed that would be required of me to form the pralines in a reasonable manner. Instead I chose the run-around-in-circles-in-my-kitchen-screaming-because-the-caramel-is-burning-my-hands approach. They taste good, but I don't think they're worth the stress. I hope none of the neighbors in my apartment complex want to take a hot shower in the next 12 hours, because I used all the hot water to de-caramelize my entire kitchen.