Many people are not enamored of grocery shopping. I'm not in that group. Even after working all day, I can actually enjoy buying groceries.
Of the many reasons I find food shopping pleasurable, the foremost is serious. For my entire life I've never walked into an American grocery store and faced empty shelves or unaffordable prices. If I were a resident of Zimbabwe at the moment, I would have to lug two suitcases full of cash to the market for a few items.
One of the greatest joys of shopping is, to borrow from the author Diane Ackerman, "The Pleasure of the Senses". Colorful fruits and vegetables artfully stacked, displays of cheese from around the world, the smell of breads baking and coffee being ground... how could I possibly not want to be in such a place?
And then there's the truly selfish aspect about being the family's grocery buyer. You get to buy what you want. No chicken livers, frozen pizzas, herring, kielbasa, rutabaga, turnips or orange sherbet will ever make it into my cart. Conversely, if the asparagus is young and tender, I can toss my menu plans and buy the asparagus... grocery shopping improvisation.
When traveling, I almost always check out a few local groceries. I definitely regard a city's best grocery stores as tourist attractions. If you doubt this, just stop in at Uwajimaya when you're in Seattle, Dean & Deluca in Soho and Georgetown or Albert Heijn in Amsterdam.
I once had a job that involved visiting about twenty grocery stores a day. That job didn't cool my ardor for food markets, and I suspect nothing will.
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Groceries
Many people are not enamored of grocery shopping. I'm not in that group. Even after working all day, I can actually enjoy buying groceries.
Of the many reasons I find food shopping pleasurable, the foremost is serious. For my entire life I've never walked into an American grocery store and faced empty shelves or unaffordable prices. If I were a resident of Zimbabwe at the moment, I would have to lug two suitcases full of cash to the market for a few items.
One of the greatest joys of shopping is, to borrow from the author Diane Ackerman, "The Pleasure of the Senses". Colorful fruits and vegetables artfully stacked, displays of cheese from around the world, the smell of breads baking and coffee being ground... how could I possibly not want to be in such a place?
And then there's the truly selfish aspect about being the family's grocery buyer. You get to buy what you want. No chicken livers, frozen pizzas, herring, kielbasa, rutabaga, turnips or orange sherbet will ever make it into my cart. Conversely, if the asparagus is young and tender, I can toss my menu plans and buy the asparagus... grocery shopping improvisation.
When traveling, I almost always check out a few local groceries. I definitely regard a city's best grocery stores as tourist attractions. If you doubt this, just stop in at Uwajimaya when you're in Seattle, Dean & Deluca in Soho and Georgetown or Albert Heijn in Amsterdam.
I once had a job that involved visiting about twenty grocery stores a day. That job didn't cool my ardor for food markets, and I suspect nothing will.
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
Of the many reasons I find food shopping pleasurable, the foremost is serious. For my entire life I've never walked into an American grocery store and faced empty shelves or unaffordable prices. If I were a resident of Zimbabwe at the moment, I would have to lug two suitcases full of cash to the market for a few items.
One of the greatest joys of shopping is, to borrow from the author Diane Ackerman, "The Pleasure of the Senses". Colorful fruits and vegetables artfully stacked, displays of cheese from around the world, the smell of breads baking and coffee being ground... how could I possibly not want to be in such a place?
And then there's the truly selfish aspect about being the family's grocery buyer. You get to buy what you want. No chicken livers, frozen pizzas, herring, kielbasa, rutabaga, turnips or orange sherbet will ever make it into my cart. Conversely, if the asparagus is young and tender, I can toss my menu plans and buy the asparagus... grocery shopping improvisation.
When traveling, I almost always check out a few local groceries. I definitely regard a city's best grocery stores as tourist attractions. If you doubt this, just stop in at Uwajimaya when you're in Seattle, Dean & Deluca in Soho and Georgetown or Albert Heijn in Amsterdam.
I once had a job that involved visiting about twenty grocery stores a day. That job didn't cool my ardor for food markets, and I suspect nothing will.
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Atomic
Unbeknownst to me at the time, our family lived for thirty years in an atomic ranch. That is the 21st century name for mid-century modern houses. Now there is even a magazine of that name, Atomic Ranch, which is completely devoted to 50's and 60's design.
At first sight, I fell in love with our 1950's atomic ranch. With 1,100 square feet, it featured a low-pitched gravel roof, cathedral ceilings, huge floor to ceiling windows, redwood paneling and a carport. There was no attic, basement or garage. Is it any surprise I'm a minimalist? I had no storage for 30 years!
Our wonderful house also was sans stairs. This was a delightful feature until our young children started walking. Navigating stairs is a learned skill. We had to go to grandma's house for stair practice.
Appropriately, we furnished our mid-century house with mid-century furniture. Bertoia, Saarinen, Panton, Eames and Knoll are my design heroes, and I expect their chairs and tables will last us a lifetime.
The house, however, had a sad ending. When our kids were grown and married, we decided to pack up and move to the lake.
My husband and I made superhuman efforts to find buyers who would appreciate the architectural value of our home. But we couldn't even find a realtor who understood design. She tartly informed us our house was in "mint condition, but badly in need of modernizing".
After we moved, my son advised me never, never to drive past our old home as it had been "brutally remodeled".
I have taken his advice. Our dear mid-century modern home lives happily in my memory - exactly as it was.
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
At first sight, I fell in love with our 1950's atomic ranch. With 1,100 square feet, it featured a low-pitched gravel roof, cathedral ceilings, huge floor to ceiling windows, redwood paneling and a carport. There was no attic, basement or garage. Is it any surprise I'm a minimalist? I had no storage for 30 years!
Our wonderful house also was sans stairs. This was a delightful feature until our young children started walking. Navigating stairs is a learned skill. We had to go to grandma's house for stair practice.
Appropriately, we furnished our mid-century house with mid-century furniture. Bertoia, Saarinen, Panton, Eames and Knoll are my design heroes, and I expect their chairs and tables will last us a lifetime.
The house, however, had a sad ending. When our kids were grown and married, we decided to pack up and move to the lake.
My husband and I made superhuman efforts to find buyers who would appreciate the architectural value of our home. But we couldn't even find a realtor who understood design. She tartly informed us our house was in "mint condition, but badly in need of modernizing".
After we moved, my son advised me never, never to drive past our old home as it had been "brutally remodeled".
I have taken his advice. Our dear mid-century modern home lives happily in my memory - exactly as it was.
Atomic
Unbeknownst to me at the time, our family lived for thirty years in an atomic ranch. That is the 21st century name for mid-century modern houses. Now there is even a magazine of that name, Atomic Ranch, which is completely devoted to 50's and 60's design.
At first sight, I fell in love with our 1950's atomic ranch. With 1,100 square feet, it featured a low-pitched gravel roof, cathedral ceilings, huge floor to ceiling windows, redwood paneling and a carport. There was no attic, basement or garage. Is it any surprise I'm a minimalist? I had no storage for 30 years!
Our wonderful house also was sans stairs. This was a delightful feature until our young children started walking. Navigating stairs is a learned skill. We had to go to grandma's house for stair practice.
Appropriately, we furnished our mid-century house with mid-century furniture. Bertoia, Saarinen, Panton, Eames and Knoll are my design heroes, and I expect their chairs and tables will last us a lifetime.
The house, however, had a sad ending. When our kids were grown and married, we decided to pack up and move to the lake.
My husband and I made superhuman efforts to find buyers who would appreciate the architectural value of our home. But we couldn't even find a realtor who understood design. She tartly informed us our house was in "mint condition, but badly in need of modernizing".
After we moved, my son advised me never, never to drive past our old home as it had been "brutally remodeled".
I have taken his advice. Our dear mid-century modern home lives happily in my memory - exactly as it was.
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
At first sight, I fell in love with our 1950's atomic ranch. With 1,100 square feet, it featured a low-pitched gravel roof, cathedral ceilings, huge floor to ceiling windows, redwood paneling and a carport. There was no attic, basement or garage. Is it any surprise I'm a minimalist? I had no storage for 30 years!
Our wonderful house also was sans stairs. This was a delightful feature until our young children started walking. Navigating stairs is a learned skill. We had to go to grandma's house for stair practice.
Appropriately, we furnished our mid-century house with mid-century furniture. Bertoia, Saarinen, Panton, Eames and Knoll are my design heroes, and I expect their chairs and tables will last us a lifetime.
The house, however, had a sad ending. When our kids were grown and married, we decided to pack up and move to the lake.
My husband and I made superhuman efforts to find buyers who would appreciate the architectural value of our home. But we couldn't even find a realtor who understood design. She tartly informed us our house was in "mint condition, but badly in need of modernizing".
After we moved, my son advised me never, never to drive past our old home as it had been "brutally remodeled".
I have taken his advice. Our dear mid-century modern home lives happily in my memory - exactly as it was.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Purple
Purple is a secondary color, the marriage of red and blue, but it is primary to me.
My affinity for purple began early in life. On a whim, I bought a pair of purple shoes only to discover that they matched everything in my clothes closet.
Historically, purple was the color reserved for royalty. Liturgically, purple is the color of penance. Mary O'Neill in her book, "Hailstones and Halibut Bones", suggests that purple is the great-grandmother of pink. I view it as a lush, elegant, but decidedly counterculture color.
Naturally, I was shocked when the "When I'm Old I Shall Wear Purple" poem swept across America a while ago like a grape avalanche. I couldn't believe women thought they had to wait until they were old to wear a color they loved. If chrome yellow is your thing, girl, go for it now is my advice. Why defer happiness?
I fear that many people would prefer purple stay in its proper places... amethysts, asters, plums, grape jam and bruises.
Fortunately, some of us think purple should be allowed to venture into many more venues. Houses and walls come to mind.
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
My affinity for purple began early in life. On a whim, I bought a pair of purple shoes only to discover that they matched everything in my clothes closet.
Historically, purple was the color reserved for royalty. Liturgically, purple is the color of penance. Mary O'Neill in her book, "Hailstones and Halibut Bones", suggests that purple is the great-grandmother of pink. I view it as a lush, elegant, but decidedly counterculture color.
Naturally, I was shocked when the "When I'm Old I Shall Wear Purple" poem swept across America a while ago like a grape avalanche. I couldn't believe women thought they had to wait until they were old to wear a color they loved. If chrome yellow is your thing, girl, go for it now is my advice. Why defer happiness?
I fear that many people would prefer purple stay in its proper places... amethysts, asters, plums, grape jam and bruises.
Fortunately, some of us think purple should be allowed to venture into many more venues. Houses and walls come to mind.
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
Purple
Purple is a secondary color, the marriage of red and blue, but it is primary to me.
My affinity for purple began early in life. On a whim, I bought a pair of purple shoes only to discover that they matched everything in my clothes closet.
Historically, purple was the color reserved for royalty. Liturgically, purple is the color of penance. Mary O'Neill in her book, "Hailstones and Halibut Bones", suggests that purple is the great-grandmother of pink. I view it as a lush, elegant, but decidedly counterculture color.
Naturally, I was shocked when the "When I'm Old I Shall Wear Purple" poem swept across America a while ago like a grape avalanche. I couldn't believe women thought they had to wait until they were old to wear a color they loved. If chrome yellow is your thing, girl, go for it now is my advice. Why defer happiness?
I fear that many people would prefer purple stay in its proper places... amethysts, asters, plums, grape jam and bruises.
Fortunately, some of us think purple should be allowed to venture into many more venues. Houses and walls come to mind.
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
My affinity for purple began early in life. On a whim, I bought a pair of purple shoes only to discover that they matched everything in my clothes closet.
Historically, purple was the color reserved for royalty. Liturgically, purple is the color of penance. Mary O'Neill in her book, "Hailstones and Halibut Bones", suggests that purple is the great-grandmother of pink. I view it as a lush, elegant, but decidedly counterculture color.
Naturally, I was shocked when the "When I'm Old I Shall Wear Purple" poem swept across America a while ago like a grape avalanche. I couldn't believe women thought they had to wait until they were old to wear a color they loved. If chrome yellow is your thing, girl, go for it now is my advice. Why defer happiness?
I fear that many people would prefer purple stay in its proper places... amethysts, asters, plums, grape jam and bruises.
Fortunately, some of us think purple should be allowed to venture into many more venues. Houses and walls come to mind.
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Fish
A few evenings ago I spotted a bunch of guys standing on a bridge near my house. They were staring morosely into the river water below. Beerless beer coolers were at their sides.
Twelve years ago I saw a similar phenomenon on numerous bridges all around my new country house. I came home and reported to my husband what I suspected was a mass male suicide in progress.
My spouse just laughed and said one word, "Smelt."
Now I'm a bit wiser about this spring occurrence. Smelt (pronounce that SHmelt) are a cigar sized or smaller fish that closely resemble members of the trout/salmon family. Native to North America's Atlantic coast from New Jersey to Labrador, smelt are also found in some land-locked lakes in New England and eastern Canada. They were planted in Crystal Lake, Michigan, in 1912 and from there found their way to Lake Michigan and beyond.
Like salmon, lake-dwelling smelt go into tributary streams to spawn in early Spring. The fish spawn at night, and the lucky ones return to the lake by morning. According to the Michigan DNR, "Smelt, known best as a tasty batter-dipped, French fried morsel, is a seasonally sought after fish by anyone willing to wade a river and scoop them up with a large net... usually occurring during darkened evenings in early Spring in Great Lake Tributaries."
Smelt have diminished since their heydays in the late 1970's to mid-1980's. Smelt fishermen, however, optimistically forecast a return to the glory days.
A smelting fishing ritual is to bite off the head of the first smelt caught. Although I applaud eating low on the food chain, I think I'll pass on this tradition. (Click here and then scroll way down to view the ritual.)
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
Twelve years ago I saw a similar phenomenon on numerous bridges all around my new country house. I came home and reported to my husband what I suspected was a mass male suicide in progress.
My spouse just laughed and said one word, "Smelt."
Now I'm a bit wiser about this spring occurrence. Smelt (pronounce that SHmelt) are a cigar sized or smaller fish that closely resemble members of the trout/salmon family. Native to North America's Atlantic coast from New Jersey to Labrador, smelt are also found in some land-locked lakes in New England and eastern Canada. They were planted in Crystal Lake, Michigan, in 1912 and from there found their way to Lake Michigan and beyond.
Like salmon, lake-dwelling smelt go into tributary streams to spawn in early Spring. The fish spawn at night, and the lucky ones return to the lake by morning. According to the Michigan DNR, "Smelt, known best as a tasty batter-dipped, French fried morsel, is a seasonally sought after fish by anyone willing to wade a river and scoop them up with a large net... usually occurring during darkened evenings in early Spring in Great Lake Tributaries."
Smelt have diminished since their heydays in the late 1970's to mid-1980's. Smelt fishermen, however, optimistically forecast a return to the glory days.
A smelting fishing ritual is to bite off the head of the first smelt caught. Although I applaud eating low on the food chain, I think I'll pass on this tradition. (Click here and then scroll way down to view the ritual.)
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
Fish
A few evenings ago I spotted a bunch of guys standing on a bridge near my house. They were staring morosely into the river water below. Beerless beer coolers were at their sides.
Twelve years ago I saw a similar phenomenon on numerous bridges all around my new country house. I came home and reported to my husband what I suspected was a mass male suicide in progress.
My spouse just laughed and said one word, "Smelt."
Now I'm a bit wiser about this spring occurrence. Smelt (pronounce that SHmelt) are a cigar sized or smaller fish that closely resemble members of the trout/salmon family. Native to North America's Atlantic coast from New Jersey to Labrador, smelt are also found in some land-locked lakes in New England and eastern Canada. They were planted in Crystal Lake, Michigan, in 1912 and from there found their way to Lake Michigan and beyond.
Like salmon, lake-dwelling smelt go into tributary streams to spawn in early Spring. The fish spawn at night, and the lucky ones return to the lake by morning. According to the Michigan DNR, "Smelt, known best as a tasty batter-dipped, French fried morsel, is a seasonally sought after fish by anyone willing to wade a river and scoop them up with a large net... usually occurring during darkened evenings in early Spring in Great Lake Tributaries."
Smelt have diminished since their heydays in the late 1970's to mid-1980's. Smelt fishermen, however, optimistically forecast a return to the glory days.
A smelting fishing ritual is to bite off the head of the first smelt caught. Although I applaud eating low on the food chain, I think I'll pass on this tradition. (Click here and then scroll way down to view the ritual.)
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
Twelve years ago I saw a similar phenomenon on numerous bridges all around my new country house. I came home and reported to my husband what I suspected was a mass male suicide in progress.
My spouse just laughed and said one word, "Smelt."
Now I'm a bit wiser about this spring occurrence. Smelt (pronounce that SHmelt) are a cigar sized or smaller fish that closely resemble members of the trout/salmon family. Native to North America's Atlantic coast from New Jersey to Labrador, smelt are also found in some land-locked lakes in New England and eastern Canada. They were planted in Crystal Lake, Michigan, in 1912 and from there found their way to Lake Michigan and beyond.
Like salmon, lake-dwelling smelt go into tributary streams to spawn in early Spring. The fish spawn at night, and the lucky ones return to the lake by morning. According to the Michigan DNR, "Smelt, known best as a tasty batter-dipped, French fried morsel, is a seasonally sought after fish by anyone willing to wade a river and scoop them up with a large net... usually occurring during darkened evenings in early Spring in Great Lake Tributaries."
Smelt have diminished since their heydays in the late 1970's to mid-1980's. Smelt fishermen, however, optimistically forecast a return to the glory days.
A smelting fishing ritual is to bite off the head of the first smelt caught. Although I applaud eating low on the food chain, I think I'll pass on this tradition. (Click here and then scroll way down to view the ritual.)
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Architects
I recently decided to introduce my middle school students to the wonders of world class architecture.
They greeted my explanation of the upcoming project with an unparalleled display of ennui. I put a list of "starchitects" on the board and suggested a few trips to the school's computer lab to do research. To this I added, "And you can write on anyone who has won the Pritzker Prize, the 'Nobel' prize of architecture," named after Jay Pritzker of Chicago.
When the kids went to work in the lab, the mood changed dramatically. Fingers flashed over keyboards, exclamations of approval were expressed such as "These buildings look like Star Wars."
Of course, one of the unending joys of teaching is that we, the teachers, get smarter. My first eye-opener occurred when one of the girls said to me, "Zaha Hadid is the only woman who has ever won the Pritzker."
"Are you sure," was my immediate reply. Then I went home and brought up the entire list of winners, 1979 to 2007. Sure enough, Ms. Hadid is the lone female.
The second surprise was the lack of one particular architect from the list. Santiago Calatrava has not won a Pritzker. Don't his works epitomize the words on the prize medallion, "Firmness, Commodity and Delight"? Many students independently chose to report on Calatrava, and everyone finds "delight" in our winged Milwaukee Art Museum.
The class and I are in total agreement that a field trip to Malmö, Sweden, to check out Calatrava's "Turning Torso" building would be terrific. Unfortunately, I don't think we'll be able to have enough bake sales to pull the trip off.
The 2008 Pritzker Prize has just been announced. Jean Nouvel, a French architect, is the winner. Perhaps a field trip to the Guthrie Theatre in Minneapolis should be considered. Click here to read the New York Times 2008 Pritzker article.
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
They greeted my explanation of the upcoming project with an unparalleled display of ennui. I put a list of "starchitects" on the board and suggested a few trips to the school's computer lab to do research. To this I added, "And you can write on anyone who has won the Pritzker Prize, the 'Nobel' prize of architecture," named after Jay Pritzker of Chicago.
When the kids went to work in the lab, the mood changed dramatically. Fingers flashed over keyboards, exclamations of approval were expressed such as "These buildings look like Star Wars."
Of course, one of the unending joys of teaching is that we, the teachers, get smarter. My first eye-opener occurred when one of the girls said to me, "Zaha Hadid is the only woman who has ever won the Pritzker."
"Are you sure," was my immediate reply. Then I went home and brought up the entire list of winners, 1979 to 2007. Sure enough, Ms. Hadid is the lone female.
The second surprise was the lack of one particular architect from the list. Santiago Calatrava has not won a Pritzker. Don't his works epitomize the words on the prize medallion, "Firmness, Commodity and Delight"? Many students independently chose to report on Calatrava, and everyone finds "delight" in our winged Milwaukee Art Museum.
The class and I are in total agreement that a field trip to Malmö, Sweden, to check out Calatrava's "Turning Torso" building would be terrific. Unfortunately, I don't think we'll be able to have enough bake sales to pull the trip off.
The 2008 Pritzker Prize has just been announced. Jean Nouvel, a French architect, is the winner. Perhaps a field trip to the Guthrie Theatre in Minneapolis should be considered. Click here to read the New York Times 2008 Pritzker article.
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
Architects
I recently decided to introduce my middle school students to the wonders of world class architecture.
They greeted my explanation of the upcoming project with an unparalleled display of ennui. I put a list of "starchitects" on the board and suggested a few trips to the school's computer lab to do research. To this I added, "And you can write on anyone who has won the Pritzker Prize, the 'Nobel' prize of architecture," named after Jay Pritzker of Chicago.
When the kids went to work in the lab, the mood changed dramatically. Fingers flashed over keyboards, exclamations of approval were expressed such as "These buildings look like Star Wars."
Of course, one of the unending joys of teaching is that we, the teachers, get smarter. My first eye-opener occurred when one of the girls said to me, "Zaha Hadid is the only woman who has ever won the Pritzker."
"Are you sure," was my immediate reply. Then I went home and brought up the entire list of winners, 1979 to 2007. Sure enough, Ms. Hadid is the lone female.
The second surprise was the lack of one particular architect from the list. Santiago Calatrava has not won a Pritzker. Don't his works epitomize the words on the prize medallion, "Firmness, Commodity and Delight"? Many students independently chose to report on Calatrava, and everyone finds "delight" in our winged Milwaukee Art Museum.
The class and I are in total agreement that a field trip to Malmö, Sweden, to check out Calatrava's "Turning Torso" building would be terrific. Unfortunately, I don't think we'll be able to have enough bake sales to pull the trip off.
The 2008 Pritzker Prize has just been announced. Jean Nouvel, a French architect, is the winner. Perhaps a field trip to the Guthrie Theatre in Minneapolis should be considered. Click here to read the New York Times 2008 Pritzker article.
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
They greeted my explanation of the upcoming project with an unparalleled display of ennui. I put a list of "starchitects" on the board and suggested a few trips to the school's computer lab to do research. To this I added, "And you can write on anyone who has won the Pritzker Prize, the 'Nobel' prize of architecture," named after Jay Pritzker of Chicago.
When the kids went to work in the lab, the mood changed dramatically. Fingers flashed over keyboards, exclamations of approval were expressed such as "These buildings look like Star Wars."
Of course, one of the unending joys of teaching is that we, the teachers, get smarter. My first eye-opener occurred when one of the girls said to me, "Zaha Hadid is the only woman who has ever won the Pritzker."
"Are you sure," was my immediate reply. Then I went home and brought up the entire list of winners, 1979 to 2007. Sure enough, Ms. Hadid is the lone female.
The second surprise was the lack of one particular architect from the list. Santiago Calatrava has not won a Pritzker. Don't his works epitomize the words on the prize medallion, "Firmness, Commodity and Delight"? Many students independently chose to report on Calatrava, and everyone finds "delight" in our winged Milwaukee Art Museum.
The class and I are in total agreement that a field trip to Malmö, Sweden, to check out Calatrava's "Turning Torso" building would be terrific. Unfortunately, I don't think we'll be able to have enough bake sales to pull the trip off.
The 2008 Pritzker Prize has just been announced. Jean Nouvel, a French architect, is the winner. Perhaps a field trip to the Guthrie Theatre in Minneapolis should be considered. Click here to read the New York Times 2008 Pritzker article.
Please click here if you wish to send me a comment
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