That nutmeg time of year



Nutmeg shortbread


If obliged to name my favorite spice, I’m pretty sure I would say nutmug. Everyone likes cinnamon. But there’s a kind of magic in nutmeg that no other spice can match, especially during the winter holidays.

My nutmeg shortcake was less than perfect. I used this recipe. Though the egg yolk makes the dough easier to deal with, I can’t say that the egg yolk improved either the texture or the flavor of the shortbread. The shortbread doesn’t melt when you bite it, the same way proper Scottish shortbread does. The egg makes a sturdier shortbread, still very good, though. Also, I only have unbleached bread flour, which may not be the best choice of flour for shortbread.

I buy eggnog once a year. Maybe this year I’ll buy it twice. It occurred to me that eggnog, if poured into an ice cream maker, would make a very nice ice cream without all the fuss required for making proper ice cream from scratch.

Mace is made from a different part of the nutmeg seed, and it’s nutmeg’s milder cousin. I usually use mace for dishes that aren’t sweet, and nutmeg for dishes that are. Year-round, if you can afford the calories, nutmeg-banana smoothies are fantastic.

Nutmeg grows in hot climates and thus would not have arrived in Europe until ships were capable of opening the spice routes. I can only imagine how much those spices cheered up European cooking, starting around the time of Elizabeth I.


Eggnog, from Whole Foods



Tomato-leek soup with coconut milk, seasoned with mace (and pepper)

Gun sales are slowing down



Wikipedia photo


The Economist reports that gun sales are now declining after record sales of guns and ammunition last year. The Economist doesn’t say when the peak was, but it may well have been January 2021, when — surprise, surprise — Donald Trump left the White House and Joe Biden moved in.

According to the Economist, the decline (based on the rate of background checks) was greater in red states than in blue states. Gun sales were down 10 percent in New York State, for example, and 40 percent in South Carolina. Much of last year’s gun-buying panic had something to do with the pandemic, it seems. Still, I’m tempted to see this as evidence that even Republicans feel safer with Trump out of power.

Smith & Wesson reported last week that its profits are down. The Texan newspaper reported that a round of 9mm ammunition, which cost 70 cents in January, is now 30 cents.

The Economist quotes an expert on the gun industry from the University of Georgia:

“‘People are no longer marching on state capitols calling for the heads of governors,’ he says, ‘and there has been a lowering of anxiety around the pandemic, and the election of Biden.'”

If the trend is what I hope it is, then maybe people will feel even safer once we get a bunch of people off the streets and into prison — the Trump family, Republicans who committed crimes for Trump, white supremicists, and the people who attacked the U.S. Capitol.

Why have cafeterias died off?



Under the turkey there is cornbread dressing.


I was at a K&W Cafeteria today for the first time since pre-pandemic days. I found myself wondering why cafeterias are so endangered, given that they are so practical. When I got home I did a little Googling. Wikipedia has a nice article on the history of cafeterias. The answer to my question should have been obvious. It was mainly fast food chains that killed off cafeterias.

K&W Cafeterias filed for bankruptcy on Sept. 22, 2020. The company’s financial situation was already stressed, but the pandemic tipped them over the edge. Some K&W cafeterias have closed, but some remain open under a reorganization plan while the company tries to pay its debts.

According to the Wikipedia article:

“At one time, upscale cafeteria-style restaurants dominated the culture of the Southern United States, and to a lesser extent the Midwest. There were numerous prominent chains of them: Bickford’s, Morrison’s Cafeteria, Piccadilly Cafeteria, S&W Cafeteria, Apple House, Luby’s, K&W, Britling, Wyatt’s Cafeteria and Blue Boar among them. Currently, two Midwestern chains still exist, Sloppy Jo’s Lunchroom and Manny’s, which are both located in Illinois. There were also a number of smaller chains, usually located in and around a single city. These institutions, with the exception of K&W, went into a decline in the 1960s with the rise of fast food and were largely finished off in the 1980s by the rise of ‘casual dining’.”

K&W held out much longer than most cafeterias. The decline of cafeterias is a huge cultural loss. K&W helped keep traditional Southern cooking alive into an era in which people cook less and less at home. I suspect that the displacement of cafeterias by fast food also had a considerable effect on public health and the rise in obesity.

I felt guilty for stopping at K&W. It’s very rare for me to eat out anymore. But now I don’t feel so guilty. The surviving cafeterias need every dollar they can get.

Oysters



Oyster soup, more or less Louisiana style. The sandwich is a winter-style BLT — lettuce from the garden, but no tomato.


Oysters are magical somehow. They’re also slightly creepy. Picky eater that I was as a kid, it’s surprising that I even liked them. But I did, either batter-fried or in a creamy stew. We had them fairly often, as I recall.

In these parts, in the Appalachian foothills and the North Carolina Piedmont, oysters are harder to find than they used to be. People don’t want to shuck them (or don’t know how). And though they’re available by the pint already shucked, I don’t think many people buy them. Rather, when people in these parts eat oysters, it’s almost always in the restaurants that I call fried fish houses.

A neighbor gave me these oysters. He had bought an entire bushel of fresh oysters. A grocery store at Belews Creek regularly has them shipped in by the lorry load, either from the Chesapeake Bay or Florida. As far as I could tell from looking at the box, these came from Florida. The cost was shockingly low — $30 for the bushel of oysters, shipped on ice overnight. My neighbor said that the store sold the entire lorry load an hour after opening in the morning. Somebody knows what to do with them, especially at that price.

It had been 25 years since I’d shucked oysters. That was on vacation near Point Reyes north of San Francisco, back in my moneymaking days. There are two oyster farms there — the Hog Island Oyster Company, and the Tomales Bay Oyster Company. I still have my oyster knife, unused for those 25 years. Opening oysters is rather dangerous work, though I’m sure it gets safer with practice. Today I wore glasses and heavy gloves.

I had at first planned to make a creamy oyster stew. But I decided instead to make something healthier and a bit lower in calories, inspired by a recipe in the Washington Post for a Louisiana-style oyster soup. I used fresh mustard greens from the garden, tomatoes that I grew and canned, and lots of garlic.

With hundreds of thousands of miles of earth’s coastlines to work with, oysters grow (and are eaten) all over the world, though they are not of the same species or variety. I Googled to see if I could find an oyster cookbook with recipes from all over the world. I could not find such a cookbook. On a trip to Scotland in 2018, I sampled one of Edinburgh’s famous oyster bars. It was interesting, and very pricey. It also was rather city-fied. The world, I think, is waiting for someone to make a global oyster tour and write a cookbook on provincial oyster-eating, worldwide.


The neighbor’s bushel of oysters.

A Boy Called Christmas


There are many B-grade Christmas movies, of course (and lots of A-grade ones as well). But not all the B-grade ones have a cast that includes Maggie Smith and Jim Broadbent. The B-grade budget is apparent in some of the sets. But some of the Old World scenery is gorgeous, filmed in Finland, the Czech Republic, and Slovakia.

Nikolas, the boy, is played by Henry Lawfull, a newcomer with a strange face strangely suited to fairy tales and magic. Stephen Merchant is the voice of the mouse.

“A Boy Called Christmas” can be streamed on Netflix.

The Rose


Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and so the Christmas season begins. As a heathen and pagan, I prefer the word Yule. If we set aside the centuries-long war on Yule by the church, then some pretty nice hard-to-kill things remain — yule fires, lights, greenery, feasting, gift-gifting, conviviality, and, most of all, music. The best Yule music, always, is choral music.

Usually this time of year I post something from the choir of King’s College Cambridge. This year, here is something a little different. It’s the Gay Men’s Chorus of Los Angeles with the country singer LeeAnn Rimes. She is a rare (these days) country singer who actually can sing, with no equipment other than a microphone.

When I post music videos, I always try to post only videos that are well recorded. So, as always, make sure that your computer is connected to good speakers, or use headphones or earpods.

Radish sprouts


Radish sprouts are my new favorite sprouts. They’re also one of the healthiest kinds of sprouts you can eat, very high in antioxidants. They do have a fairly strong flavor, though. Not everyone likes them. If you don’t like radish sprouts raw, they work very nicely in stir-fries. They’re almost as big as mung bean sprouts, and they have nice, pea-shaped leaves that will turn dark green if they get enough light. The radishy flavor works really well in spicy stir-fries.

Winter greens


I wish I had started experimenting with winter greens in a cold frame a long time ago. This mustard was planted in early October and is now ready to start picking. I’ve decided to make a little ritual of it, though, and have the first winter mustard on Thanksgiving.

For comparison, I’ve also got some mustard growing outside the cold frame. The mustard inside the cold frame has grown almost twice as fast. Plus, the outside mustard has started to toughen a bit and looks a little shabby and weathered. Next year, I think I’ll expand the winter garden and see what I can do. One very agreeable difference, compared with summer gardening, is that there are no bugs, no briars, and no heat and humidity.

Fiona Hill for president!



There Is Nothing for You Here: Finding Opportunity in the Twenty-First Century. Fiona Hill, Mariner Books. 432 pages.


I rarely read political memoirs, but I made an exception for Fiona Hill. She made a strong impression on millions of people during the House impeachment hearings of 2019. She was a visible example of the kind of people who, during Trump’s term in the White House, saved the American government from being completely corrupted by political hacks who did everything they could to turn the United States into Russia. Political hacks refer to this kind of people as the “Deep State,” by which the hacks mean: principled professionals who could not be corrupted or easily taken down, people who stood in the way of the Putinization of America.

Hill is a Russia expert. Trump called her “the Russia bitch.” Because she was born down and worked her way up, she did not go down easily. Principle, professionalism, and truth were her secret weapons.

Even from where I sit in the provinces it was clear that the Trumpist intent was — and is — to turn the U.S. into Russia. When someone like Fiona Hill confirms this, we ought to pay attention. She spent her career studying Russia, from the cold and grit of decaying Siberian cities to Moscow dinners sitting beside Putin. She worked in the White House and saw up close how the Trump White House operated. Her many hours of testimony to the House Intelligence committee are on the historical record. Most Republicans will never admit what happened or how close we came to an authoritarian coup, and the Republican cover-up continues. But one of the things that I find comforting, no matter where we end up a few years from now, is that historians are going to know the full story of what happened.

If you heard Hill’s testimony (it’s still available from CSPAN and on YouTube), you know that she is from the north of England. Hill’s perspective on the past thirty years allowed her to see connections that most of us are unable to see. Most important, of course, are the similarities between the Putinization of Russia and the Trumpization of America. She grew up very poor, in impoverished coal country. She is able to see how the policies of the Reagan-Thatcher era destroyed provincial economies but did nothing to mitigate the damage (though Hill also acknowledges that Thatcher was faced with trends and forces beyond her control). During the 1990s, Hill was on the ground in Russia, witnessing how efforts to create a Russian democracy failed and how oligarchs and so-called “populists,” who feed on grievance and disorder, took control. And then came Trump, riding the same whirlwind.

Hill writes that her training and her work have been nonpartisan. But, as Paul Krugman likes to say, reality has a distinctly liberal bias. This entire book, whether Hill intended it or not, is a powerful and urgent case for the enactment of the progressive agenda and a damning historical indictment of where Reaganism, neoliberalism, and so-called populism have led.

The book is in four parts. First, her deprived childhood in County Durham in the northeast of England. Second, how she found her way out, first to the University of St. Andrews in Scotland, and then to Harvard. Third, she writes about her time in the White House and what she saw there. And fourth, she does her best to offer ideas on what it will take for the United States to avoid Russia’s fate. The key to that is investing in people in the places that have been left behind.

One of the reasons I love this book is that I identify with Fiona Hill. My circumstances were never as harsh as hers, and my achievements were far less. Yet when she writes, for example, about “code switching,” I completely understand. She writes in the book about how she was often humiliated for her provincial accent, in particular when she interviewed at Oxford (and decided to go to St. Andrews instead). Some disadvantaged Brits, she writes, actually take elocution lessons to lose their provincial accents and learn “received pronunciation,” or what we used to call the BBC accent. Margaret Thatcher, for example, took voice lessons in the 1970s. I grew up with the Southern Appalachian dialect. But even in the provincial city of Winston-Salem, where I got my first job, that would not do. Because I had a good ear and an aptitude for languages, I was able to learn to “code switch.” People in San Francisco always told me that they could not detect a Southern accent. “Prove it,” someone once said. “Say something in Southern Appalachian.” I did, and the involuntary look of disgust on his face surprised even me, as though he had found a roach in his soup. Fiona Hill had similar experiences, and I greatly respect her for not trying to change her accent. She moved to America for greater opportunity, just as I moved to San Francisco for greater opportunity.

The subtitle of this book is about finding opportunity. How people talk is only one of many things that keep them down. Lack of education, lack of social support (meaning that there is no one there to help them), racism, classism, and the economic decay of rural and post-industrial regions are the biggies that keep people down.

Conservatives and even today’s so-called “centrists” have no solutions. In fact, conservatives do everything possible to block progress and push societies toward inequality and authoritarianism.

In a way, I regret that I have to say that this book is a powerful argument for the progressive agenda, because I don’t think that was Fiona Hill’s intention. But (like reality) a rational, historical, pragmatic, and nonpartisan outlook has a distinctly liberal bias. Conservatives dismiss Hill as a subversive and a George Soros mole in the White House. But what is clear to me is that the progressive view, and the progressive prescription for our problems, are not just a bias. It’s just a sensible, informed, and pragmatic way of looking at the world today. If I have a bias, it’s this: the progressive view and the progressive prescription for our problems are the only sensible, informed, and pragmatic way of looking at the world today.

Self-defense?



A right-wing protester at a Trump rally in Kenosha, Wisconsin, Sept. 1, 2020. Source: Wikipedia.

Farhad Manjoo, in a column this morning in the New York Times, draws attention to a novel right-wing claim of self-defense, in which a right-winger with a gun points the gun at unarmed people, then claims self-defense out of fear that an unarmed person might take away the gun. Manjoo writes:

“And Rittenhouse’s gun was not just a danger to rival protesters. According to his own defense, the gun posed a grave threat to Rittenhouse himself — he said he feared being overpowered and then shot with his own weapon.”

This has come up again this week, in the trial for the shooting of Ahmaud Arbery, who was killed by vigilantes after they saw him jogging and assumed he was a criminal. The Washington Post writes, “Travis McMichael testified that he raised his shotgun first to ‘de-escalate’ and scare Arbery off, drawing on his use-of-force training while employed with the Coast Guard. But he said that as Arbery ran toward him and finally made physical contact, he fired, afraid the man would get control of the weapon.”

With no verdicts as of today in either case, we don’t yet know whether juries will accept this kind of perverted logic. It would be a horrifying precedent. If a man with a gun points the gun at an unarmed person, doesn’t the unarmed person have a right to self-defense? Lacking a weapon, what are the options other than trying to grab the gun before the guy with the gun can shoot? The claim, clearly, is that the person with the gun has a right to self-defense, but the unarmed person does not have a right to self-defense.

Probably this question has come up before in other court cases. I don’t know. But it does seem clear that there is a connection to vigilantism. Police have the authority arrest and detain people. Vigilantes do not. This is a question that everyone who owns a gun should think about. It’s a question that should be discussed in every concealed carry class. Let’s hope that the courts will provide some clarity.