Jenyfer Matthews

I was thinking about it the other day and I not only eat seasonally, but I cook seasonally. When the weather turns hot I don’t want to bake anything or even think about eating a steaming bowl of soup. I want light, easy food that is also going to keep me cool.

Yesterday, inspired by the bounty of fresh tomatoes in the shops, I made a big pot of gazpacho. Today I bought some fresh cilantro so I can make some salsa to go with bean burritos. Not sure what the rest of the week holds, because in addition to the weather, I’m trying not to buy too much food since we are leaving for our summer vacation next week. No point in stocking up the cupboards for the ants. The menu might become sort of strange as we draw nearer to our departure date and are trying to finish up a bit of this and a bit of that.

What do you like to eat when the weather is hot? I could use a little inspiration…

This picture struck me as a good follow-up to the weekend post

I finished reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma last weekend, but I wanted to take a little time to think about it before I wrote, to formulate something thoughtful to say other than “You must read this book!” – because this book does nothing if not make you think.

Where In Defense of Food examined the cult of nutritionism and shed light into the mystery of processed food, The Omnivore’s Dilemma examines food chains – exactly where does the food we eat come from. The food chains Pollan looks at are industrial, organic / alternative, and hunting / gathering.

I probably would have been a flower child had I been alive in the 60’s – I’m pretty skeptical by nature, particularly of politicians and big business. It really wasn’t such a huge surprise to me to read about what exactly goes on in the industrial farming world or the motivations behind it, and yet it was horrifying just the same. The toll that mono-agriculture takes on the environment, on the livelihood of the farmers, and ultimately on the public’s health is nothing short of stupefying – because all I can ask myself is why on earth do we go along with it? The answer goes back to money, big surprise. It all starts with growing corn and myriad of things that the food industry can do with that one cheap crop – run through a mass spectrometer, Pollan found that a much larger percentage of a McDonald’s meal is actually made up of corn than you would think, including 100% of the soda. If you are now wondering what’s so bad about eating corn, not only does it take a tremendous toll on the land to endlessly grow the same crop, but remember that many of the Western diseases like heart disease and diabetes can be linked back to the modern industrial diet – of processed corn.

The next food chains he looked at were organic and alternative. If you think that because you eat organic vegetables you’re exonerated from supporting the industrial food complex, think again. While organic farming does indeed spare the environment from a load of toxic pesticides (always a good thing) the fact is that most organic farming is done on an industrial scale in California. Pollan points out that from the moment a head of organic lettuce is picked it must be kept chilled to a precise temperature until it leaves the grocery store. So, when you factor in all the energy consumed in chilling and then transporting that lettuce from California across the country (or in some cases, the globe) to its final destination, that same lettuce isn’t really so “green” anymore. And it’s not really so much better a system for the animals involved in it either. Kind of makes you stop and think, doesn’t it?

On the other hand, there are a few small alternative farms such as Polyface Farm in Virginia, run by Joel Salatin. He follows a really wild and crazy farming practice where he lets animals and plants co-exist in mutually beneficial patterns. He doesn’t call himself an organic farmer because based on government guidelines, he isn’t. He isn’t for instance using approved and tested feeds such as using “Feed #2” on their chickens. Instead he calls himself a “grass farmer”. He has a well orchestrated system of rotating his cattle and his chickens through his pastures, letting the grass, the cows, and the chickens all follow their natural predilections. Sounds like a great system, right? But because the chickens are out in a pasture eating “unidentified” grass and grubs, etc they cannot legally be called organic. Fortunately, Joel Salatin doesn’t care, nor do most of his customers. The fact that his cows and chickens have a much better quality of life – not to mention diet – is more compelling for them than a government stamp.

I think the food chain discussion that I found most interesting though was the hunting / gathering one. I love gathering “free” food – I can remember one summer in North Carolina when I found a blackberry patch of mammoth proportions. I was out every morning, in spite of the heat and bugs and thorns, gathering as many berries as I could get. I even dreamed about berries. That was the year I taught myself to make jam. Last summer I spent a lot of time eating beach peas, fresh from the pod. There’s nothing I love quite so well as gathering. Pollan’s description of mushroom hunting has almost got me wanting to go out try it myself, but I’m still a little scared of making a mistake at that activity and frankly I don’t think many mushrooms grow in the desert!

But it was the discussion of hunting that was most interesting. I long ago decided that though I didn’t think I could bring myself to go out and personally kill an animal, it didn’t make any sense to reject eating game just because someone else had done so. If I was going to eat a cow, why not a deer? After reading this section of the book, I’m actually more positive about hunting now. Not that it’s something I think everyone should do instead of grocery shopping (not sustainable) but because at least a deer has had its time in the forest, following its natural instincts to eat what it’s supposed to eat, and lived a quality deer life – as opposed to a cow that has been fattened in a feedlot eating a diet of corn, animal by-products, and antibiotics (a diet cooked up by scientists to build bulk faster) all consumed while standing in a pond of feces from the hundreds of cows quartered with it. Where’s the quality of life in that scenario?

One of the things I like the best about living in Egypt is that the whole country is like a big farmer’s market. On the whole, the farmers don’t use much if any pesticides because they can’t afford them. Most of the food available is grown within a couple hours drive of Cairo and is transported in small pickup trucks – and in many cases by donkey cart. I buy locally when I can because not only is it fantastic stuff, but it is cheaper than imported produce and also supports the local economy. Long before reading this book, living in Egypt brought to my attention the beauty of eating what’s in season here and now.

Pollan ends his book in the most reasonable of ways – only with the idea that we look and really see where it is our food is coming from, whether it be from the forest or McDonald’s. Does reading this book mean that I’m going to change the way I eat? How could it not? One day I truly hope to have my own vegetable garden. And while I’m not quite prepared to swear off eating a burger once in a while, I am glad that I’m not a daily or even weekly participant in a cycle that demands 400 cows AN HOUR are slaughtered on an assembly line to feed it. And if I ever find myself living within driving distance of an alternative farm such as Polyface, I’ll certainly do my best to support their endeavors.

I went to a local bakery run by two Egyptian brothers who had lived in the US for while – during which time they learned how to make bread and pastries that are extremely palatable to a Western palate and I’m sure provide a lucrative income for them now.

So I’m in there trying to decide which variety of bread would go best with a very tasty cheese that I’d bought for dinner. I didn’t want a bread that would have too strong a flavor of its own because I wanted it to complement, not compete, with the flavor of the cheese. I explained this to one of the brothers when he tried to help me.

He wanted to tell me what I wanted to hear and replied that any bread would do. I tried again to explain that I didn’t want anything that had too much flavor on its own. He said that his bread had no flavor. Of course this struck me as very funny – what a way to sell your product! I laughed a little and that confused him further. He didn’t see what was so funny. It has no flavor, he insisted, it’s just bread.

Rather than try to explain, I chose the multigrain. It had plenty of flavor actually – and it was fantastic with the cheese.

Take this for instance:

The moose quilting progresses and isn’t going so badly. Not that that is saying much – I expected it to look absolutely horrible and instead it merely looks pretty bad. And that’s just the front. (We won’t discuss the back!) The up-side is that this is to be hung on a wall in a guest room. The down-side is that it is the room that I occupy while I’m visiting so this moose will be mocking me all summer – for years to come.

Fusible web applique is a total joke. The manufacturers of the fusible web claim it forms a permanent bond. Right. So then why does it lift and peel off as I go along? It’s not just this brand or batch either – I’ve never used any that formed a truly permanent bond. Except to my iron plate of course.

End rant.

Moving on… I ran across this reader review of my book ALL THE WAY HOME the other day and it made me smile:

I enjoyed this book – it was a sweet romantic story of two people who grew up in the same town, and “found” each other long after high school. I also liked the secondary storyline of the character’s sister. It was very well written, and the characters were believable (although I felt that their falling in love was a little rushed).I’m a sucker for romances set in small-town America, with dogs and babies and Dairy Queen, so this one was right up my alley.
by: kcar08 on Library Thing

All I ever want to do when I write a story is entertain a reader. So glad they enjoyed it enough to tell others about it on a community site. Thanks, kcar08!

Dedication to my Daughter

Separation is the last thing I want to think or blog about. Yet it’s been on my mind non-stop since last week, when my daughter kissed me, said, “I love you, Mom,” and announced they are moving away to Virginia. What breaks my heart is that I am going to be separated from my adorable 3 and 5 year-old granddaughters.

Of course my daughter and her husband have the right to move anywhere they want or anyplace that’s convenient to them. He’s been without work since last November and has finally landed a good job.

I wish them well and pray that they will be happy in VA. But how am I going to cope with my little ones moving a thousand miles away?

I know I can rely on my husband, my writing and my wonderful friends. And I will be extremely busy with the promotion of my third book.

BABIES IN THE BARGAIN is a sweet and spicy medical romance that garnered several wins in contests: Launching A Star, The Beacon, Great Expectations; Golden Gateway; Gotcha; Enchanted Words; The Suzannah; Winter Rose; Linda Howard Award of Excellence. The story is based on my daughter’s professional experience. Needless to say, the book is dedicated to her as she read and corrected the medical cases.

My heroine is a pediatrician and a neonatologist finishing her residency and training in a children’s hospital in Washington. Same as my daughter did. And my heroine Holly “coincidentally” shares some of the medical cases and emotional career turmoil that my daughter faced during her tough training. But the coincidental similarities stop here.

My heroine is attracted to a tall, dark and handsome hero (hmm son-in-law is also T, D, and H, pure coincidence again). But my hero is a Puerto Rican doctor and the story is pure fiction.

The story behind BABIES IN THE BARGAIN started on a Christmas Day, a few years ago, when my daughter was still a first year neonatology fellow. She was on-call on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day—as she’d been for the previous three years.

To share the holiday season, we called her and said we were coming to have lunch with her at the cafeteria. My husband and son helped me carry the elaborate home-cooked meal and the wrapped presents. We shared a happy lunch with the guest of honor wearing green scrubs.

Later, she invited us to visit the NICU. We slipped yellow gowns over our clothes and scrubbed before entering the room where five preemies fought for their lives. I approached one of the isolettes and noticed that the preemie wore a dress with Christmas prints. My daughter explained that a nurse sewed the tiny outfits for the babies in residence over the holiday. I realized that the dedication of the NICU personnel, including my daughter, went beyond the performance of a well-done job. They gave a hundred and one percent to the babies they helped save and did it happily. On that Christmas Day, I decided to write a story featuring the wonderful doctors and nurses who treated our loved ones.

BABIES IN THE BARGAIN

With only one year left to complete her medical training in Neonatology, Dr. Holly Collier vows not to let anyone mess up her sacrosanct schedule. Especially not the drop-dead gorgeous Dr. Marc Suarez who broke her heart seven years ago.

When a tragic accident transforms the carefree playboy into a dedicated but novice father to his nephew, Holly gives in to her maternal instincts and turns her structured life upside down for the orphaned preemie. But can she learn to trust Marc again and believe in true love?

Here is a trailer about BABIES IN THE BARGAIN.

The babies are my own grandchildren.

When you watch the trailer, pay attention to the music: Enjoy The Boy.

I personally met the European singer when my next-door neighbor invited my husband and I to meet some friends and have dinner with them. The singer and her husband who is her agent were present. Unfortunately, the lovely young woman fell sick and suffered from bronchitis. We took her to our doctor and bought her medicines. When she recovered, she offered me her album and wrote on the CD, “You saved my life.”

I wish you a happy time as you read the story of Holly Collier, a beautiful and dedicated neonatologist who spends many hours in the hospital NICU, and falls in love with Marc Suarez, the dashing Puerto Rican doctor who shares her journey.

To celebrate the release of BABIES IN THE BARGAIN on July 03, 2009 at the Wild Rose Press, I am running several contests during the month of June on my own blog: www.monarisk.blospot.com

Jenyfer, thank you for inviting me to your beautiful blog.

I’ll be taking the weekend off this week – I have a moose to quilt. But do stop by – author Mona Risk will be here with a preview of her upcoming release BABIES IN THE BARGAIN with The Wild Rose Press, coming July 3rd.

When I was visiting my friend in Qatar, I found a copy of My Fair Lady in a DVD sale bin. I adored that movie as a child and thought that my own children might enjoy it as well. At any rate, I figured it would make a nice change of pace from a steady diet of Disney and Pixar creations.

We watched it over two nights last weekend. It started out well enough – I still love the music (I could have danced all night!) and Audrey Hepburn never ceases to be a pleasure to watch. And though it was a little long for the children, they liked the community aspect of all of us sitting down to watch together – or perhaps it was the popcorn.

Things took a turn downhill for me in the second half of the movie – after Eliza has successfully transformed herself from a flower girl with a lower class accent into a lady. Her inexplicable fixation with Henry Higgins never bothered me as a child but it bothered me tremendously as an adult. Why should she like that self-centered, self-important, arrogant, gas-head? She does all the work and wins his bet for him but he takes all the credit! I loved the scene where she’s left him to go and stay at his mother’s house and then tells him off. And he does finally see the error of his ways and admits to himself that he misses her. But the ending was just too much – Eliza ruins the fact that she stood up to him by going back to him and he, instead of admitting to her face that he was wrong, gets a smug look on his face and smiles because he’s gotten his way once again. The End.

If I had my way, Eliza would have left Henry Higgins to the company of Colonel Pickering and married the prince of Transylvania instead. Harumph.

My children didn’t seem disturbed by it, and I realize that I’m judging an old movie by today’s standards, which isn’t fair. Be that as it may, the Best Picture of 1964 wouldn’t make it out of a focus group with that ending today, and I wish I hadn’t ruined my own pleasant childhood recollections of that movie by watching it again.

Just you wait, Henry Higgins, just you wait…

I have a set of nifty little items I just call “corn holders” for lack of a better term – mine are shaped like tiny ears of corn and have sharp prongs at one end with which to spear an ear of corn, so that you can enjoy the bounty of summer without burning your fingers or getting them covered in melted butter. They aren’t strictly necessary to eat corn on the cob but we always had them as children (along with long, corn cob shaped dishes) and I enjoy them.

But they really ought to come with a warning label. They are a Dangerous Kitchen Tool, right up there with knives. A weapon of facial destruction. Because when the tapered end of the corn cob breaks off, the prongs can fly out and stab you in the face, just millimeters shy of your lip. And believe me when I say that it doesn’t feel even a little bit good, particularly when the wound gets salt in it. Ouch!

Don’t say no one ever warned you.