It's Always Snowy in Morocco

**I may be word-playing on the hit television show, It’s Always Sunny in Philadephia, but truth be told, I’ve never watched a single episode.**

Three posts in one week?! I hope you’re not sick of me, but I also hope you don’t get used to this frequency either, because I’m not likely to make a habit of it. It’s just that I wanted to get my second clatter book review out there sooner rather than later since the third one is already in progress. I figured you wouldn’t mind.

Book: Snow Falling on Cedars
Author: David Guterson
Year: 1995

clatter’s nutshell summary and review: It’s got the elements of a good John Grisham courtroom thriller, but Guterson provides illustrative, poignant writing that makes it anything but. While the book centers around the trial of a Japanese American fisherman accused of murder set during an unprecedented snow storm in the San Juan Islands, Washington, there is a lot more that fills the pages than that: a war veteran journalist dwells on a lost love, a wife stays loyal to her husband during an unbearable time, and a fishing community remains plagued with memories of war, Japanese internment camps, and deeply-rooted discrimination. Snow Falling on Cedars keeps you guessing until the end and you may find yourself hoping, like many characters in the book, that justice will rightfully be served. Cedar tree and strawberry field motifs woven throughout the novel, I could have some fun if I was writing a paper on this one! Despite the fact that as an attorney, I thought that both the prosecution and defense should have made more objections during the trial proceedings, I found this to be a lovely told story of redemption and justice.

clatter’s favorite passage: Ned Gudmundsson’s closing argument. It may not be quite that of Atticus Finch’s, but this is one that any criminal defense attorney could only dream of delivering. “What I see is again and again is the same sad human frailty. We hate one another; we are the victims of irrational fears. And there is nothing in the stream of human history to suggest we are going to change this. . . I merely wish to point out that in the face of such a world you have only yourselves to rely on. You have only the decision you must make, each of you, alone. And will you contribute to the indifferent forces that ceaselessly conspire toward injustice? Or will you stand up against this endless tide and in the face of it be truly human?”

clatter’s (and only) food moment: Ishmael Chambers, the unhappy journalist, checks on his mother during the snow storm. She gives him motherly words of wisdom over a bowl of soup – five kinds of beans, onions and celery, a ham shank, two small turnips. Sounds like a perfect meal to warm the insides during a blustery snow storm and frigid temperatures. Well played, Mrs. Chambers.

Recipe: Moroccan Carrot Salad
Date: January 8, 1995
NY Times: “Food: For Root Vegetables, Add Imagination,” by Florence Fabricant.

clatter's thoughts: Year 1995 gave me so many more options than 1932, but I’ll admit that I probably picked the easiest, least adventurous recipe of them all. That’s a lame, unclatter-like approach to the challenge I know, but I was lazy and found something I could make without having to make a trip to the grocery store. Laziness prevailed over lobster! Amanda (we’re on a first name basis now) notes that Fabricant pointed out when the recipe was published that this salad would work equally as well with grated raw instead of slightly cooked carrots, which is exactly what I did. I'm no proponent of the raw food diet, but I do believe that some vegetables really are best when raw - carrots and broccoli are two of them. So I charged on, albeit a little wary. Some of you might know that I have some issues with the grater (i.e.. I’ve shed blood in the name of cheese…more than once). However, after peeling and cutting the ends of the carrots to prep this salad, I grasped the first one in my fist, determined to make peace with the one kitchen tool that still scared me. With each passing carrot that I vigorously grated, my kitchen suddenly transformed into a place of Zen and I let my thoughts take me far away…to childhood memories of homegrown carrots in my mom's garden….to wishing that I was making a carrot cake instead of a carrot salad.... to the story a guy I dated told me about how he once drank pounds and pounds worth of carrots in a week as part of some fad diet until his skin literally turned orange....to how I consider myself to be fairly open-minded and non-discriminatory when it comes to dating, but that even I have my limits and orange skin = dealbreaker.....

I became so engulfed in these carrot-centralized thoughts that once I brought my focus back to the kitchen and my task at hand, I found my index fingernail on the verge of utter destruction by the grater. Thankfully I was able to stop the grating motion just in time to save a limb, but my sacrificial manicure may have still allowed some purple speckles through the cracks (polish isn’t toxic, right?). I tossed the grated carrots (and some broccoli florets just because) with the simple vinaigrette, which includes ground coriander, cumin, and lemon juice, and let it marinate overnight. Tonight for dinner I took a big spoon and ate a large helping straight out of the container I made it in. Fresh, healthy, and delicious. If I wasn't already aware (and sore afraid) of the colorful consequences of carrot overdose, I probably would have eaten more.