TIME FOR SUMMER

From Gabrielle Myers, celebrated chef, poet and author of HIVE MIND.

“In powerful lyric prose that sometimes can’t help give way to poetry…Gabrielle Myers sings her own, very personal love song to the soil under all of our feet. The voice in Hive-Mind is complicated, edgy, vulnerable and deeply in love with fig trees, cherry tomatoes, and the sound of crickets on a hundred and ten degree summer day.  In these dark, environmentally catastrophic times, we need books like this one to shake us out of our slumber, remind us where we came from, reconnect us to what we are.”

–Pam Houston, Author Contents May Have Shifted

​

THE RECIPE

The late spring BBQ season comes with a rush as cherry trees flush with fruit and tall grasses tangle against our ankles. Rather than rely on additive and sugar-packed store bought BBQ sauces, follow this recipe to make your own savory sauce. Ridiculously easy to make, BBQ sauce should accentuate the fattiness of the falling off the bone rib meat. Instead of the odd and likely chemically processed liquid smoke, use naturally smoked paprika to give the sauce a smoky kick. The lycopene in the tomato paste and the Manganese and Magnesium rich molasses make this sauce leap with health benefits.

Rub for the ribs:
1 teaspoon hot red pepper flakes
1 teaspoon ground fennel seed
½ teaspoon black pepper
Salt, to taste

BBQ Sauce:
7 ounces organic San Marzano tomato paste
2 tablespoons organic blackstrap molasses
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon red wine vinegar
2 teaspoons smoky paprika
½ teaspoon garlic paste (make fresh)
Salt, to taste

1. Put all the ingredients in a stainless steel bowl.
2. Mix the ingredients well.
3. After the ribs have cooked for 1.5 hours at 315 degrees Fahrenheit, lather the sauce on both sides of the ribs.
4. Turn the ribs about every 30-40 minutes as they cook for another hour or hour and half. Add more sauce to cover the ribs as necessary. Once they pull away from the bone, the ribs are done. If you like to grill, place the ribs on a low flame and gently grill them for about 10 minutes to finish cooking.

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#writering: Meeting Jeannette Walls

#writering is a periodic posting of blather about writers, books and publishing by Beth Wareham of Lisa Hagan Books.

 

Jeannette Walls

 

I met Jeannette a long time ago (a decade ago!) in a tiny room in the center of an airless midtown tower. She was with a young colleague signing stacks of her first memoir, The Glass Castle which would remain on the bestseller list for 7 years.  A childhood remembered, it is by turns delightful and horrifying as her family bounced from desert shack to a dilapidated mountain shanty.  Jeannette and her siblings slept in cardboard boxes rather than beds. Her father – often drunk – and her mother –  depressed and refusing to get out of bed – seemed unable to care for their children. And just when you believe you can’t take it any more, Jeannette takes you to her father’s boyhood home, examines his mother, and this hell makes more sense. Jeannette’s love for her family is unwavering, even to this day. All of Jeannette’s childhood is bearable to us because it was bearable to her: She emerged full of human grace.

Somehow in that sad little book-filled room, Jeannette looked like she does in the photograph above, a yearling at the edge of a field, sun back-lighting her . Maybe it’s that  mane-like hair. Or it’s the eyes that have that equine ability to be look deep while scanning the perimeter for potential predators.  She gave an impression of being vulnerable and she was very kind. Her gaze was direct and strong: In retrospect I’d even describe it as unbroken. In fact her third book was called Half-Broke Horses.

I remember thinking, she’s no gossip reporter.  She’s already a writer, a philosopher, something quiet, dignified, not reporting on Beyonce or Justin Timberlake. I don’t know how long she kept at that job, but I can’t think of a more improbable pairing. I see Jeannette in that sunny pasture walking among her horses, blending into the sunlight.

I am hoping the movie version of Glass Castle remains true to the book; the trailer makes it appear like happy Hollywood malarky. It’s the darkness of that book that makes the story so amazing: Those two deeply flawed parents raised remarkable children.

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A HAUNTING CULINARY MEMOIR FROM A POET, MEMOIRIST, FARMER AND CHEF

L I S A  H A G A N  B O O K S

THIS WEEK WE DELIVER THE GIFT

OF

A GREAT RECIPE… READ ON

Gabrielle Myers author, cook and chef releases  Hive-Mind with Lisa Hagan Books/ShadowTeams

“In powerful lyric prose that sometimes can’t help give way to poetry…

Gabrielle Myers sings her own, very personal love song to the soil under all of our feet. The voice in Hive-Mind is complicated, edgy, vulnerable and deeply in love with fig trees, cherry tomatoes, and the sound of crickets on a hundred and ten degree summer day.  In these dark, environmentally catastrophic times, we need books like this one to shake us out of our slumber, remind us where we came from, reconnect us to what we are.”

–Pam Houston, Author of Contents May Have Shifted

 

“It’s gorgeous. The writing is so precise and riveting that you can’t tear yourself away from any moment. Myers is a writer of elegance and heart, and also of extraordinary intelligence. I’m not quite sure how you create this hardhearted and yet spiritually elevated work; but she has somehow managed it. It’s a remarkable experience to read this book. So please do.”

–Wesley Gibson, author of Personal Saviors

  The quotes above will hopefully convince you of the writing in Hive-Mind. Now we want you to know that Myers can also cook. This puree will become a go-to dish for entertaining or that magic hour of just sipping a drink at day’s end.

And really, how much hummus can we eat?

     Lemon-White Bean Puree

“I suggest using following recipe as a base bean puree recipe. From this basic recipe, you can add chopped olives, tomatoes, spinach, or capers, crushed fennel seed or cumin, or even sautéed ribbons of kale and escarole. While you can lather the puree on a toasted baguette and top it with a generous drizzle of olive oil and pinch of parsley, this smooth mix also acts as a healthy alternative to the ranch and sour cream dips often served with crudité. Try this savory puree as a substitute for the often canola-heavy mayonnaise in your favorite sandwich.”

3 cups cooked or canned cannellini beans

2 lemons, zested

1 lemon, juiced

½ cup extra virgin olive oil

1/8 to ¼ cup water, depending on consistency

1/8 tsp. crushed red pepper

salt and pepper, to taste

 

1. If you use canned cannellini beans, rinse the beans in a colander under cold running water until the starchy residue is removed. Allow the beans to drain until all the excess liquid is gone.

2. Place all the ingredients in a food processor, and blend until smooth. If the mixture seems too thick and the ingredients aren’t easily blending, add a few tablespoons of water.

3. Season the puree with salt and pepper. If you like more spice, consider adding an additional 1/8 = 1/4 tsp. crushed red pepper.

4. You can serve the puree immediately, or store it in an airtight container in the refrigerator.

-Enjoy!

Gabrielle Myers

(This  recipe originally appeared in the Prostate Forum Blog in September 2013: prostateforum.com)

 

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MOTHERS WITHOUT DAUGHTERS

1/7/2015
Guest Author: Ruth Sidransky
www.shadowteams.com

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Two years have passed and I awake startled. Carrie, my 55 year old daughter is at my bedside, gently nudging me awake. I open one eye. It is 4 in the morning. I listen.

“Mom, call me an ambulance. I need a shot.”

It is only a dream, a fragmented memory of the nights she reached out, touched my face when I rose from my bed to her urgent need for a strong shot, a pain killer stronger than morphine. The pills she had at hand did not relieve the cancer pain coursing through her body.

I called 911, the fastest route to relieve the pain twisting her face. Not a word of complaint, except a plea: “Mom, don’t wake the kids, let them sleep.”

Most nights it was cold, the chill of predawn in western Massachusetts was unforgiving. Not to add to the severity of her request, I rose slowly from the bed, reached for my warm down coat, and said, “Carrie, they will be here in five minutes, come lie down with me under the covers. Rest.”

“OK Mom, but remember we are just friends.” Always wisecracking, taking the edge off her fear and mine.

The police arrive; the ambulance arrived. They knew Carrie by name; they knew the route to the house. It was not the first time, nor would it be the last time. As soon as the EMT men arrived with a stretcher Carrie’s face relaxed. They lifted her from my bed, and carefully, slowly wrapped her in blankets and wheeled her out to the ambulance. No sirens, just blaring red lights to warn of their road speed, lest other cars hinder their race to get Carrie to the hospital. I hugged my coat to my body roused from sleep warm. Back to bed, the children still asleep. Good.

I was relieved.

Soon, soon she would receive a shot and be free of pain, at least for several hours. And so the journey went, the struggle against an invasive, insidious disease replicating throughout her intestinal tract.
Two years have passed.

I received a letter from one of her physicians last week. I sent him a copy of BRAVO CARRIE, notes from my journal, notes I had to write to keep me sane, notes that offered relief. The journal was my “go-to” place for comfort, for hope and understanding why Carrie after 25 years of remission had to fight another bout of cancer.

I never meant to publish this short book. I meant it as a record for the family and a few close friends. Before I sent BRAVO CARRIE off to a select few I edited some paragraphs in my journal for clarity’s sake.

I quote a line from this physician’s letter: Thank you for allowing me to glimpse intimately into it. (Carrie’s struggle) I think of Carrie often. She quickly changed from patient into friend.”

Carrie’s light shines.

Her children are well, on their way to their own lives. Her son is a college student. Her daughter will soon graduate from high school.

I miss her, my daughter, my best friend.

I say, BRAVO CARRIE.

To order Bravo Carrie, click on the title.

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