Stuff & Nonsense

06 April 2012

April Is For Poetry: On the Day of Nixon's Funeral

While we were admiring daffodils at a park this afternoon, I spotted some ferns all tightly furled and I remembered this poem by Ira Sadoff. Well, I didn't remember it was by Sadoff, but I remembered "embryonic / fiddleheads, fuzzy and curled" and Google worked its usual magic.

Furled Ferns

                                                                 You can see why
I'd want to bury this man whose blood would not circulate,

whose face was paralyzed, who should have died
in shame and solitude, without benefit of eulogy or twenty-one
gun salutes. I want to bury him in Southern California
with the Birchers and the Libertarians. I want to look out

my window and cheer the remaining cedars
that require swampy habitats to survive. To be done
with shame and rage this April afternoon, where embryonic
fiddleheads, fuzzy and curled and pale as wings,

have risen to meet me. After all, they say he was a scrappy man,
wily and sage, who served as Lucifer, scapegoat, scoundrel,
a receptacle for acrimony and rage — one human being
whose life I have no reverence for, which is why I'm singing now.
Extract from "On the Day of Nixon's Funeral" from Grazing by Ira Sadoff. Click here to read it in full.

Furled Ferns

05 April 2012

Soft Cookies, Warm Cookies, Nom, Nom, Nom

In a fit of madness (or was it optimism?) I promised The Husband cookies on a weekend already packed with cooking. I knew I'd need a very basic no-frills recipe that would still be up to The Husband's high standards. After a very brief ohmygodshowmethebestreciperightnow Google search, I settled on a modified version of SheKnows's "Cranberry Chip Cookies."

White Chocolate Raspberry Chip Cookies

I used 1 cup Nestle semi-sweet mini morsels, 1 cup Whole Foods 365 Everyday Value white chocolate chunks, and 1 cup Whole Foods 365 Everyday Value dried sweetened raspberries. I also used 1 teaspoon Cook's Pure Red Raspberry Extract instead of the vanilla to give the cookies extra raspberry power and skipped the nuts as I thought there was enough going on in these cookies without them.

These cookies were, we both agree, best eaten warm. Warm, they were soft with slightly melty chocolate and plump, almost gooey raspberries. At room temperature they were pretty fair crisp chocolate chip cookies, but the dried raspberries had resumed their regular raisin-like texture. The Husband does not like raisins or anything that resembles raisins texturally and his cookie consumption sloooooowed right down.

So it was high, ho, off to work the cookies go! And my coworkers seemed perfectly happy to scarf them up. There cookies hit the staff room at 8:20 and, at 10:15, there was nothing left but crumbs. I think there's nothing librarians like more on a Monday morning than free cookies in the staff room. Unless, it's free cake ...