Sunday, September 16, 2007

PART II: IN THE FALL, AN OLD GIRL'S FANCY TURNS TO...SOUP


I mentioned in my previous post that I had soup in a bread bowl during the street fair on Saturday. I had chicken tortilla soup, with big nice chucks of white meat chicken, but I could have chosen beer cheese soup or wild rice soup. What a dilemma! As I like them all, it was hard to pick just one. This year, they even furnished pieces of bread for dipping, as it is a little hard and messy to wrest soup-soaked bread from the top and insides of the bowl. It was nummy.
I have become a real soup aficionado lately. Now that it's fall, I want to have heartier food, and soup really fits the bill. It seems I must have soup for every lunch, either by itself or with a sandwich.
There's a local market that offers a half dozen freshly-made, takeout soups each day. Talk about being difficult to choose just one. Saturday before last was cold and rainy, and I was wet when I got to the market. No wonder I chose two soups - a small cup to consume with a plastic spoon right in my car with the heater blowing warm air, and a larger cup of chicken tortilla to bring home for later. My "breakfast" soup was new to me, a lovely hamburger "chowder" with cheese and thinly-sliced potatoes. I liked it way better than New England or Manhattan clam chowder, which are among the few soups I can pass up.
What I can't pass up: The aforementioned soups; broccoli cheese, cauliflower cheese or California Medley cheese soups; beef noodle or beef barley soup; chicken vegetable soup (preferably homemade but I'll take the "homemade" canned); and vegetable beef soup. The Wood House Restaurant in Bismarck makes the best vegetable beef in town. It has wonderful big chunks of beef and a savory base, and they cook the soup so long that I can actually eat the carrots and green beans.
My little brother, Ronnie, so loved my Grandma's potato soup that he would eat three or more bowls at one time. Grandma always said Ronnie had a hollow leg to hold all that soup. I myself had a great bacon and potato soup with vegetables the other day.
I must mention the Munro Family's homemade chicken soup. My Grandma and mom made - and now my sister carries on the tradition of - making the best chicken soup in the world, with homemade, gnarly fat noodles. I remember so well Grandma cutting the noodles and placing them on chair backs to "cure". My sister has actually found store-bought noodles that are just as good, and she buys chicken breasts instead of roasting a chicken, but her soup is as good as Mom's and Grandma's because the stock is exactly like theirs, and that is the secret.
Bismarck is the "capital" of knoephle soup, which is supposedly a potato and dumpling soup in a chicken stock base. Several Bismarck eateries claim to have the best knoephle soup, but I find each wanting. The "dumplings" are actually just clumps of gummy dough. The best knoephle soup, in my opinion, was made by The Drumstick Cafe, which is now closed. That knoephle soup had real dumplings, and a delicious creamy herbed base.
It takes living in Bismarck to be a connoisseur of knoephle soup, as well as borscht soup. I resisted tasting borscht for years, thinking it was a red soup made with pickled beets. I finally learned it is more like a vegetable soup, and Dakota Farms Restaurant in Mandan makes a wonderful borscht. Another Mandan restaurant makes a borscht with a creamy pink base but I could not wrap my mind around eating pink soup the one and only time I ordered it.
Speaking of colored soups, I have never tasted vichyssoise, which I imagine to be green but perhaps is not.
Some soups are best left to restaurants. In my early marriage, I actually made a homemade French onion soup (I was a much more adventurous cook in my early wedded years.) I could not believe how much work that soup is. Later, my husband and I liked Cross and Blackwell's French onion soup, to which we added a layer of croutons and Swiss cheese. Now that our local stores have stopped stocking this soup, I have it only at restaurants. Oh, that wonderful melted cheese topping that strings out from you spoon as you lift the spoon to your mouth!
And Chinese soups, naturally, are best in restaurants. I can readily pass up won ton soup. I like egg drop soup for its flavor but not for its looks. But consomme soup is exquisite, with its green onions and beef consomme flavor, with a bunch of hard noodles thrown in. Like in the Goldilocks story, the noodles, when ready to eat with the soup, can't be too hard or too soft, but just right.
In our family, along with 7-Up, Lipton's dry mix chicken noodle soup was our comfort food when anyone was sick with cold or a flu. I sent packets of this soup to Kristen when she was going to school in France, and I think it is the only soup she eats today. I prefer the variety with diced chicken; she likes the extra noodle. I'll often have this soup for breakfast Saturday morning, with the doggies sharing soup-soaked saltines.
You'll notice that I have mentioned soup for breakfast twice now. You may think I am off my nutter. My Mom served pancakes or bacon and eggs, not soup, for breakfast. But I'll never forget the time I stayed with my two farm girl friends/sisters from school. Charlotte and Lenore. Their mom served us soup for breakfast. I must have looked askance at her, as she explained to me that she wanted to give her children a really hearty, stick-to-your ribs breakfast for their long bus ride, school day and return trip.
A wonderful cold weather meal when you have worked a long hard day and don't feel like cooking an elaborate meal is tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Where can you find a more perfect duo? My husband sometimes adds ham to the grilled cheese sandwiches to make it an even heartier meal.
Campbell's soups, like the chicken noodle soup, chicken vegetable soup and tomato soup were staples in our home when I was growing up. We had tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches on Christmas Eve, my savvy mom knowing it was an easy meal that us kids would readily eat, as eager as we were to open Christmas gifts. After we kids grew up, my mom discovered a wonderful salmon, corn and bacon chowder that I salivate over just thinking about.
Some soups, like the above-mentioned clam chowder, just don't ring my chimes. I remember the homemade tomato soup with stewed tomatoes floating in hot milk that my friends' moms used to make. Yuck times two. Bean and bacon and bean and ham soups are OK, but rather bland.
Cream of chicken soup? Okay, but best left to cooking, in my opinion. And who could eat Lipton French Onion Soup as a soup? Only in recipes, I say. Cream of mushroom soup? Gack! I always substitute cream of chicken in a recipe. I really dislike this soup, and mushrooms in general, and had to check with my friends' moms to make sure they weren't serving mushroom soup when I was invited to dinner or supper.
There are new soups out there to be tried. The market recently had a great looking tomato basil ravioli soup that looked just fabulous.

A BLUEBIRD DAY

Two perennial favorites at Bismarck's Folkfest Street Fair - Turkey Drumsticks and Funnel Cakes (this Bismarck Tribune photo was taken Friday - no jackets were needed Saturday!
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Saturday was what my husband calls a Bluebird Day - a warm fall day with blue skies. Thursday and Friday had been unseasonably cold, and my right hand completely swelled up with an acute attack of what I like to call rheumatism. Dan, a former physician's assistant, says it is arthritis, plain and simple, and it know it really is. But I prefer what the old folks called it, "the rheumatiz", and I definitely felt like one of the old folks last week.
But Saturday dawned blue and mellow, with leaves just beginning to turn. Not entire trees yet - but portions of trees - are starting to show color. I was so glad it would be nice, because my sister and I were set to attend the Folkfest Downtowners' Street Fair that afternoon.
Glad, because I have vivid memories of shivering under grey skies while trying to eat a fleischkeuchle (German deep fried meat pie) during Oktoberfest. Bismarck's fall celebration used go by that name and was held a a month later, so as to celebrate the German heritage so strong in our area. But some years ago - in hopes of generally better weather - the celebration was moved to the third weekend of September and re-named to encompass a wider group of people.
Oktoberfest used to be little more than some local bars putting picnic tables in their parking lots and serving fleischkuechle, brats and kraut, knoephle soup and kuchen. Now, a large area of downtown Bismarck is roped off from auto traffic, and hundreds of food and craft booths dot the streets.
I used to go mainly for the crafts, but after 25 years nothing much is new. Now, we go mainly for the food, and I suspect a lot of other people do too (the men, for sure). Whatever you are hungry for you'll find it at the street fair: soup in a bread bowl, Indian tacos, gyros, buffalo burgers (they're good!), cheese curds, fry bread, satay (skewered beef in spicy peanut sauce), Chinese food, deep-fried walleye, Norwegian lefse, I could go on and on. It always made me chuckle to see my petite, extremely picky daughter chow down on a turkey drumstick like there was no tomorrow!
The only thing I regret about leaving my previous job is that my friends and I could go right out the front door of the Wells Fargo Bank building on Folkfest Fridays and immediately be in the midst of food heaven. We used our morning and afternoon coffee breaks to go scout out and bring back fresh raspberries on ice cream, mini donuts, kettle corn, cheesecake on a stick, caramel apple slices.
Yesterday, my sister and I followed our usual agenda - cover the entire fair, check out all the food and craft booths, then decide which foods we'd like to go back for, and secure two places among the crowded tables (this year, a table in the shade was a must). Oh, it was hard, especially as I had left most of my cash in a bank envelope on the seat of my car and I had to be very choosy.
I finally settled on a grilled pork chop sandwich, a bread bowl of chicken tortilla soup and a freshly-squeezed lemonade. My sister chose Chinese stir fry and rice, and an ice cream brownie sandwich. After we ate, we lingered at the table for the best part of the day: people- and dog-watching. I have never been able to figure out why people bring their dogs to a crowded street fair, but they were there, along with cute babies, excited kids, men bearing big plates of food, ladies carrying bags with fall crafts peeking out, teenagers having a good time but hardly deigning to show it, and the lovable eccentrics.
After we left, we went to Starbucks, as my sister had been shut out in her attempts to buy a frappuchino at the Starbucks' and other coffee booths downtown. We took our drinks outside to the patio, unwilling to end a perfect day. We sat under the tree and watched the world drive by, both on South Third Street and in the Starbucks drive through. More people watching!
As an added bonus, Glori drove me out to her house in Lincoln, five miles outside of Bismarck, to see her seven new kittens. She assures me at least one has my name on it, if I could get Penny and Gracie to accept it. There's an all-black little sweetheart named Stevie . . .We got our beloved Dusty the day before Halloween when Kristen was five years old. Now, it's 20 years later and Dusty has passed after 18 1/2 wonderful years. Maybe I could have another Halloween kitty in my house?

Thursday, September 13, 2007

SEPTEMBER


"AUTUMN FLOWERS AND APPLES"
(By Timothy Easton)

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September: It was the most beautiful of words, he's alway felt, evoking orange-flowers, swallows, and regrets."
~Alexander Theroux
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(Many many thanks to Mari-Nanci of "Smilnsigh" for sharing with me a site that contains lovely paintings. (The painting shown here and the one in the post below were "stolen" from Mari-Nanci's blog.) Because I love them so much and because I begged her to tell me where she found them, she graciously shared that she finds them at http://www.art.com/. Please do visit Mari-Nanci's blog. It is so delightful!: http://www.smilnsigh.blogspot.com/.)

AUTUMN LEAVES

"AUTUMN LEAVES"
(Popular translation by Johnny Mercer)
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The falling leaves
Drift by the window
The autumn leaves
Of red and gold
I see your lips
The summer kisses
The sunburned hands
I used to hold
Since you went away
The days grew long
And soon I'll hear
Old winter's song
But I miss you most of all
My darling
When autumn leaves
Start to fall

This is a familiar song to most of us, having been performed by a number of famous American recording artists.

I do enjoy this song - the melody, the evocation of falling leaves drifting by a window, and the thought that the lover will miss his darling most of all "when autumn leaves start to fall."

However, this song is a translation of a French song called, "Les Feuilles Mortes." And I learned it in French. So where Mercer wrote about sunburned hands and lips, I learned "Les feuilles mortes se remassent a la pelle, Les souvenirs and les regrets aussi". Loosely translated, with nearly 40 years between me and my last French class, this means: "The dead leaves are gathered on the rake; the memories and the regrets as well." (Dear Kristen, my French-major daughter, I can visualize you grimacing. So please if you have time send me a proper translation of the song or at least of the few lines above.)

I found several English translations of "Les Feuilles Mortes" on the web. One, by a Frenchman, is extremely literal, awkward and inept. ("I loved you so much, you was so pretty.") By the way, this translation recites that the leaves are gathered by a shovel. The correct translation of "la pelle" is shovel, but I am sticking with rake as it is what I learned, and it sounds so much nicer.

The other translation is by Coby Lubliner, who has some interesting things to say about translating lyrics in general, and in particular, the practice of creating a virtually new song with only vague connections with the original: "One of the most egregious examples of this practice is the poignant, bittersweet French song Les Feuilles Mortes, whose lyrics are by the great poet (and screenwriter) Jacques Prevert and which made a star of Yves Montand. The American music industry, alas, amputated this song of its verses and published only the refrain as the ballad Autumn Leaves, with typically mawkish lyrics by Johnny Mercer. But since this version was recorded by the likes of Nat "King" Cole, Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald and their ilk, not to mention countless instrumental performances, it has, like the north wind, swept the original song into oblivion's icy night, except perhaps in French-speaking cultures. I have modestly tried to remedy this (in my opinion) travesty."

I am re-printing Lubliner's version below. I think he keeps pretty well to the spirit of the song, if not the letter, if my shaky French is any indication. But he strays too far sometimes. He avoids the whole shovel/rake quandary and instead makes it "Dead leaves are gathering as in December." The word December does NOT appear in this song! I'll forgive him, however, because he uses December to rhyme with "remember". He is successful in rhyming the English translation, which is extremely difficult to do when moving from one language to another.

"LES FEUILLES MORTES (DEAD LEAVES)"
**********
Oh, I would like you so much to remember
Those happy days when we were friends, and how
Life in those times was more lovely and tender,
Even the sun shone more brightly than now.
Dead leaves are gathering as in December
You see how one never forgets ...
Dead leaves are gathering as in December
Just like the memories and regrets.
And then the north wind comes and sweeps them
Into oblivion's icy night.
You see how I never forget
That old song that you sang for me.
REFRAIN
A song like us, birds of a feather,
You loving me, me loving you,
And we lived happily together,
You loving me, me loving you.
But life tears apart gentle lovers
Who quietly obey their heart,
And the sea invades the sand and covers
The footsteps of those torn apart.
Dead leaves are gathering, dead leaves are piling
Up just like memories and like regrets.
But still my love goes on quietly smiling
Thankful for life and for all that it gets.
I loved you so, you were ever so lovely,
How can I forget? Tell me how!
Life in those times was more sweet and beguiling,
Even the sun shone more brightly than now.
You were my most sweet friend and lover,
But regret is all that I can do,
And I'll keep on hearing the song
That I used to hear sung by you."
**********
But to me, forever, the French version is the most beautiful:
**********
"Les feuilles mortes se remassent a la pelle,
Les souvenirs et les regrets aussi
Et le vent du nord les importe
Dan la nuit froide de l'oublie
Tu vois, je n'ai pas oublie
La chanson que me me chantais."
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Talk about bittersweet!
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Added Friday morning:
My eyesight must really be getting bad. I just noticed that this beautiful painting of trees in autumn contains Eeyore, Pooh, and is that Piglet too? All of a sudden, the painting isn't quite right for this post about bittersweet love. But I'm going to keep it. We all need a little Eeyore and Pooh in our lives.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

IT'S NOT BITTERSWEET, BUT IT IS LOVELY


When I was looking for photos for my post about bittersweet (below), I wasn't surprised to find this photo labeled "Bittersweet." Not surprised, because a lot of people mix up bittersweet and Chinese lanterns. I suppose it is because of their shared orange color and their appearance in fall. FOLKS, THIS IS NOT BITTERSWEET! It is CHINESE LANTERNS.

I tried growing Chinese lanterns once, but failed miserably. I have never seen it grown in any garden in Bismarck so I had supposed it was not suited to our climate. However, since then, I have been able to purchase stems of Chinese lanterns at fall craft fairs from area vendors.

The "lanterns" are extremely fragile but if you take really good care of them and pack them well from season to season, they can last a long time.

BITTERSWEET SEASON

Just as bittersweet is found entwined around trees and bushes, the word "bittersweet" is entwined in my mind with the word "autumn".

The first time I ever heard about bittersweet was when I was 15 and read Betty Smith's book "Joy in the Morning." In the book, Annie McGairy, who had never seen bittersweet either, passes by a florist's window and is captivated by the beautiful red and orange berries. She stops in to inquire about the cost, which turns out to be 10 cents a stem. For Annie, this is a lot of money - a real extravagance - but she can't resist purchasing some, and the florist wraps her bittersweet stems in florist's paper.

When I moved to Bismarck, I learned that keeping one's bittersweet-gathering spot a secret is akin to mushroom hunters in Provence keeping mum about the location of their truffles. I have a friend who always brings home big loads of bittersweet branches every fall. I kept asking her to take me along on these excursions, but she never seemed to call. Finally, it dawned on me (I am a bit slow on the uptake) that she was NEVER going to call me to go with her.

Actually, I know where a lot of bittersweet grows - south of Bismarck in Sibley Park by the Missouri River. However, it is against the law to take any natural material from state parks, so I have never taken any. I suppose I could scope out a site in the daytime and return at night to purloin some. However, knowing my luck, I would fall in the river instead.


I have managed to find some bittersweet on my own - in ditches along the back roads by the river. In North Dakota, at least, this is where bittersweet seems to thrive.

I especially love finding bittersweet that hasn't opened yet. In this state, the berries appear orange. But pick them, bring them into your warm home, and in a very short time you'll see the orange outer layer split and flare out to become the bittersweet "petals". Hiding inside are the orangey-red berries. Some years, I can't find any bittersweet, and have to rely on finding some at the various fall craft festivals held in the area.

Stems of bittersweet look wonderful no matter how they are displayed, but they look especially good in straw baskets or copper or rusty containers.



I could belabor the obvious and natter on about autumn being a bittersweet season, but I think that's all been said before.

P. S. I mentioned the book "Joy in the Morning" by Betty Smith, of "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" fame. Apparently, a lot of people think this book is not quite up to par with ATGIB, which is of course a classic. But I thoroughly enjoyed it, and Penguin Books has chosen it as a Modern Classic. It tells the story of Annie McGairy, a Brooklynite like ATGIB's heroine, Francie Nolan. Annie is transplanted to an unnamed (in the book) Midwestern university where her brand-new husband is studying law. I just found out tonight, by Googling Betty Smith's name, that the school is the University of Michigan. Like ATGIB, "Joy" is an autobiographical novel for Smith.

Joy in the morning? Yes, it is a joy to see an uneducated Annie try to be a good wife to Carl, to see her make friends with members from all the social strata of the town, and to slowly, slowly start to gain an education for herself. I especially loved the part where she finds a tattered old copy of "War and Peace" for a quarter, patches it back together and laboriously - with the help of a dictionary - studies the book page by page and re-writes it too!

By the way, do not bother with the dreadful movie that was based on this book.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

A BIT BOHEMIAN

"A BIT BOHEMIAN"
(Collage within a collage by Julie Fredericksen
and Lila Rostenberg)
(Click on photo to enlarge for detail)
A few months ago Lila from "Indigo Pears" sent me some fabulous artist papers and the 4x4 card "A Bit Bohemian." Lila's card, plus the theme of the papers she sent, made me think of a Bohemian lady who is still a simple country lass at heart.

Lila contributed the "Bohemian" collage, the dotted brown paper, the feather and the robin. I took it from there.

STUDY IN BLUE, BROWN AND OCHRE


"STUDY IN BLUE, BROWN AND OCHRE"

Collage by Julie Fredericksen
(Click on photo to enlarge for detail)
This was an exercise I did while devouring the book "True Colors: A Palette of Collaborative Art Journals." I highly recommend this book. The collage is actually not crooked. I just didn't scan it correctly.

ITALIAN FEVER


"ITALIAN FEVER"

Collage by Julie Fredericksen

A tribute to Autumn in Firenze (Florence)
(Click on the picture to enlarge for detail)
(The background is crinkled copper foil paper - which is why the word "Italian" looks funny on the scanner.) This is also an experiment in the color palette of brown, peachy orange and yellow, with blue for highlights.

Saturday, September 8, 2007

IN THE FALL, AN OLD GIRL'S FANCY TURNS TO....DECORATING!

After my disappointment over not being able to go to Woman Song, I decided to go out and about in Bismarck today. All the shops are full of fall decorations, which put me in an autumnal mood. (And once I get over my grief every year at the flowers dying, I can embrace fall.)

Today I found myself an Autumn "Green Man", or whatever he would be called. I just really liked his expression. It's not a very good image, as I could not fit all of him on the scanner.

I also found a little someone who would be perfect to add to my next giftaway. I am approaching my 200th post, and when I do hit that number I will advertise a giftaway of autumn- and Halloween-themed items. I can't wait to show what else I found too, so I guess I will be writing a lot of posts in the next couple of weeks! P. S. I'm keeping this little fairy's sister (seated) for myself!