The Help

by Kathryn Stockett

I admit that I bought this book because I was intrigued: the author graduated from the University of Alabama and majored in English. Sound familiar?

But, I was not disappointed. The book tells the story of three women, one white and two black, during 1960s, small-town Mississippi. Although it would be very easy for the author to rely on the same old formula here, and although she does take some liberties with her historical timeline, Stockett does a wonderful job of narrating a compelling, moving story through various first-and third-person voices. It's not a fast-paced book, and I think it's one that would lend itself to either a quick read or a more slow, lingering one.

Having grown up in a small Southern town, I can attest to the accuracy of how the town is portrayed, along with its biases and attitudes. It's fair and respectful where it should be, but doesn't hesitate to draw a distinction between acknowledging the reason for prejudice and accepting it. No, no. Though Stockett may help explain to us where the various characters' prejudices lie, and their origins, she never seeks to justify them, nor does she expect her reader to adopt them.

I loved this book; I actually feel affection for it. Perhaps it's because it's been so long since I've been home. That will be remedied, come next Thursday!

Young Hearts Crying

by Richard Yates

Some of you may recognize Mr Yates as the author of Revolutionary Road, which was recently made into a film starring Kate Winslet (love her) and Leonardo di Caprio (love him too now that Titanic and Gisele aren't the only topics that spring to mind whenever I think of him). I read RR ages ago and have now picked it up to reread; I saw the film back when it was still in theaters, and I was so impressed with the screenplay and the acting (and the set, and the clothes: wow, the 1950s were fabulous for fashion).

The setting of YHC is fairly similar to RR, and there's a similar theme in that it's basically a story of a young, hopeful couple who eventually come to face that reality isn't as romantic as they might have hoped. What Yates does very well is use the contrast of the city and the suburbs to make his points about people, and their nature, and their behavior.

This is not a page-turner. It's not a book that's meant to be read in a single sitting, I don't think, and I believe, actually, that it wouldn't be as good if you did read it quickly. The story develops over about 3 decades, so a slow reading allows you to know the characters and live with them for a while, and thus appreciate the book more. Even while you're reading, you know that this isn't going to be a book with a neat and tidy ending, but you know that it will be satisfying nonetheless.

I enjoyed reading YHC, and I'm enjoying rereading RR. Richard Yates is pretty amazing.

Blood Orange Olive Oil Brownies

I've posted before about visiting the Queen Creek Olive Mill, and about their Blood Orange Olive Oil. When Mama was in town for Thanksgiving, we went again, and the one item I had decided I would not leave without was this orange oil. I was so excited that I tried out one of the Mill's recipes tonight!

4 oz unsweetened chocolate
1 oz bittersweet chocolate
1 c all purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
4 eggs
1 tbsp vanilla
1/2 c butter
2 c sugar
1 c walnuts, coarsely chopped (I used pecans.)
1/2 c blood orange olive oil (You can order this from the website.)

I love this recipe for two reasons: 1) I love the combination of chocolate and orange; and 2) I automatically am intrigued by any baker who wants me to use an entire tablespoon of vanilla. I love vanilla, and I almost always add more than a recipe calls for. With this one, I imagined that the recipe's creator and I were kindred spirits.

The batter looks like nothing so much as fudge. So here's what you do to make it:

Preheat oven to 350. Line a 9 x 12 baking pan with parchment paper (I skipped this and sprayed the pan with Baker's Joy instead). On low heat, melt chocolate in saucepan, stirring constantly (I used the microwave). Set aside to cool. In a separate bowl, sift flour, baking powder, and salt. Melt butter, and add oil. Add one egg at a time. Add in vanilla. Add the chocolate. Fold in the dry ingredients and nuts. Do not overmix the batter. Pour into a pan, and smoothe off the top. Bake for 25-30 minutes, until the brownies pull away from the sides of the pan.

A Decidedly Un-belle Saturday Afternoon Activity

I spent a chunk of my weekend replacing my downstairs toilet's innards. Not as much fun as it sounds, and let's face it, it sounds fairly awful. But, being cursed with the world's worst landlord, and a job that requires me to work Monday through Friday, and quite often the better part of Saturday and Sunday, I was left with little choice other than to educate myself on the finer points of bathroom plumbing. Luckily, it didn't take that long, and even more luckily, the directions were very specific and helpful. I am, as it turns out, pleasantly surprised with my skills in the home improvement arena, a subject about which I heretofore remained willfully and blissfully ignorant. I'm reasonably certain that belles aren't meant for this type of labor.

Pumpkin Poundcake

This is, quite possibly, the best thing I've ever made. I followed the recipe from The Gourmet Cookbook, except that I added vanilla (good vanilla, from Williams-Sonoma) even though it didn't call for it, and I played around with the spice quantities a little bit (a little more nutmeg and cinnamon than what was called for, a little less cloves). "Yum" is all I have to say. And judging from the emptiness of the plate when I left from work, my co-workers agree. I think the secret is the Granny Smith apples. Their tartness works perfectly with the warmth of all the spices, and they keep the cake really moist.

Oh, Anthropologie, I *heart* you.

But why must you be so expensive? I decided to take a few minutes out of my day to peruse the website, and now I NEED all of these shoes:

Bouquet-of-Roses Heels

Open Wing Heels
-Love, love, love. Designed by Chie Mihara.

Rippled Bow Booties

Until-We-Meet Again Booties
-These are my favorites. They are just gorgeous. I'm convinced that I could win any trial at all, if only I could wear these boots. Chie Mihara at her best, I tell you.

Mallard Heels
-Yes, I know those are little ducks. I love these shoes in spite of it. Chie Mihara again.

Carved Celadon Heels
-So, so pretty. I love a T-strap.

Wishing Well Flats

Blithe Ballerinas

Modern Matriarch Boots

Draping Orchid Spectators

Brimming Button Heels

Black Magic Heels
-I also love a d'Orsay pump. And Chie Mihara. Clearly.

Barney's, New York (in Scottsdale...finally!)

Wonderful. Lovely. Heaven.

I don't have to say anything else.

Brunch

My mom is visiting for Thanksgiving. Sunday, we went to church (briefly...we left after about 15 minutes because the service was so awful) and then decided to go to brunch. Best idea ever. We went to Rita's Kitchen at the Camelback Inn. Yeah, sure, it's expensive, but I don't think I've ever enjoyed an eating experience more. Live entertainment outside, a table that was inside but right at the edge of the inside/outside border, perfect weather, mimosas, and delicious food. I'm wondering whether the Camelback Inn needs an attorney-in-residence. Because if they do, I'm their girl. Can't wait to try out the spa.

Dolce & Gabbana L'Imperatrice 3

aka: my new favorite perfume

I am a loyal devotee to Burberry perfume. I own about 5 of their scents, and really, they know what they're doing, those folks at Burberry. Burberry Classic is my everyday, and I love Touch nearly as much...but I'm just as fond of Brit Sheer, London, and The Beat. Today, though, I went to Sephora to return a lipgloss (I know, miraculous) and fell in love with this new D&G perfume!

I haven't been able to find a description that explains to me the smells I am smelling, so I and my novice nose will do our best to tell you how wonderful it smells. It's fruity and a little bit floral, but I don't get the feeling that I constantly need to sneeze, as is true with many florals (Marc Jacobs, I'm talking to you here). Also, I'm not worried that a swarm of bees will stalk and kill me because of an overpowering fruity smell (yep, DKNY, that's you). I can distinctly smell watermelon and a flower that I *think* is jasmine, but there's another fruit I can't quite identify (apples?) and something deeper (musk perhaps) that evens it out nicely, and frankly, makes me want to bathe in this stuff.

In case you're wondering, I LOVE the way I smell right now. ;-)

Amanda, this is for you.

This was too long to post as a comment on your blog, so I put it here. Your post, and your memories of vanilla ice cream and graham crackers made me think of something that happened to me recently.

I was sitting in my living room the other day, praying about a trial that I have coming up that involves the death of two children. I pray a lot about work, just because it’s stressful, and oftentimes, I’m dealing with victims who aren’t cooperative, or defense advocates who seem to think it’s fun to be aggravating just for the sake of being aggravating. This case is a special one, though. It's been pending for over a year now, and I really want a conviction, not for myself, but because it will mean justice was served for those two babies. I haven't known how best to handle a few difficult issues that have arisen, and finding myself at an empasse, I did what you've done: give it to God.

The scripture that I was led to during my prayers was Jeremiah 29:11 (the Bible actually opened to this passage on its own). I thought it was odd when I read it initially: “I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” I first found it utterly unhelpful, and I thought that there must be another scripture on that page that I was meant to read. After all, the reason that I have the case at all is because these children are dead; these children have had their futures taken from them.

As I often do when thinking about children, I then started thinking about Grandmamma, which initially made me sad all over again. But then, I got the most peaceful feeling; I just knew – in that moment – that God's Will will be done with that trial now, even if it's not the ending I foresee or would prefer. He has a plan. He knows better than I do. And no matter what happens, it will be for the best because it is His plan, not mine. He gave me the reassurance I needed with the trial, and He gave me some very sweet memories of my grandmother as a balm to heal some of the hurt of thinking about these two babies who never had anyone like her in their little lives.

I'm saying all that to say this: I know God gave me Grandmamma's spirit to help me through that moment. I know it because of how my dinner turned out that night. One of the saddest things for me, usually, about making scrambled eggs and grilled cheese is that I can’t make them taste like Grandmamma’s tasted. But on that night, both were perfect. I haven’t felt that peaceful in a long, long time.