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Am still reading The Rent Collector by Camron Wright. Oh my. This book has so many layers: (1) the young, impoverished couple and their infant son who live, literally, in a dump in Cambodia and about the precarious structure, if you can even call it that, that comprises their “house” in the midst and perched on top of trash; (2) the woman who collects the rent (hence the title and yes, people have to PAY to live there); (3) the young son’s chronic illness; (4) how they make a living out of collecting and selling trash; and (4) the life saving grace and wisdom imparted by characters in the book as the young mother begins to learn to read. If you decide to read this book, please don’t stop at about page 15-20, thinking you just don’t know if you want to read about this. Please continue. It’s so worth it. Have a highlighter pen in your hand because you’ll find so many quotes you will want to remember. Believe it or not, there is also quite a bit in this about literature.

Recently finished C.J. Box’s book The Disappeared (A Joe Pickett Novel). I just love Box’s novels. They take place in present day semi-wild west, and chronicle the fish and game warden, Joe Pickett, as he unravels another crime in his territory. A woman has disappeared, and the governor has asked him to figure it out. He does, but the tale meanders through multiple layers of intriguing story. His books are riveting. Men and women enjoy his books – so if you have a fellow in your life or family that would enjoy an intriguing book (this is not espionage) then gift him one of Box’s books.

Also finished Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng. About a dysfunctional family, through and through. I picked this up from amazon from someone who read the book, named “McReader,” and she says: “Set in the 70s, the story follows a Chinese American blended family in Ohio. When Lydia [the daughter] is found floating in the lake, her family is forced to analyze what put her there. Was it pressure from her family to succeed? Was it pressure to fit in? Was it a crime of passion or convenience? I was spellbound reading the last half of this book. I loved each flawed family member, especially Hannah,. While the story went where I hoped it would go, I was not disappointed at all with the progression. It was also quite insightful on the prejudices that society had about Chinese Americans still during that timeframe and how careful parents have to be to put their dreams onto their children.” Such a good book and definitely worth reading. Would be a good book club read. You’ll be hearing more from this author. Am currently reading her next novel, Little Fires Everywhere.

The Boston Girl: A Novel by Anita Diamant. A very, very intriguing book. The book is written from the voice of a Jewish grandmother as she tells her granddaughter the saga of her life starting about 1910, who struggles with her own individuality, with her domineering mother who never says a kind word to her. It’s certainly a coming-of-age story as she grows up, finds a job, makes friends, joins a literary girls club, moves out, but still suffers under her mother’s thumb and tongue. She becomes a reporter on a local newspaper, which opens her eyes to more of the world than she ever knew. She finally meets the right man (of course!) and she shares the stories about her life, and her friends and family members as she grows up, giving some sage advice along the way. Part of the time she’s talking to herself – to her young self  (really wanting to tell young Addie to keep on, forgive herself for her perceived transgressions, to live life, and experience the world).

One of the best books I’ve read in a long time – Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. Rivers is a prodigious writer of Christian fiction, and I’d never read anything by her until now. As I write this, I’ve already read this, another one (below) and just purchased the Kindle trilogy called Mark of the Lion (Vol 1-3) that I haven’t yet started. (Two of my friends have said the trilogy is her best.) Redeeming Love details the fictional story of a godly man, Michael Hosea, forging his way in the era of the Gold Rush. He’s “driven” to rescue a beautiful prostitute who lives and works her trade in a nearby town. The entire book is about the story, the rescue, and it parallels a bit of scripture about Hosea who rescues a prostitute names Gomer. You get into the heads of both Hosea and the prostitute, named Angel. We read this for one of my book groups. A great read.

As soon as I finished the above book I promptly visited my church library and found a whole shelf of Rivers’ books, and grabbed one called The Atonement Child. This book takes place in the 1980s or 90s, about a young college student who is raped. She was engaged to be married, was a stellar student. The book chronicles what happens to her when she discovers she is pregnant from the rape. Every possible thing goes wrong in her life. I don’t want to spoil the story if you’re interested in reading it, but I couldn’t put it down. I ended up spending a good part of a day plowing through it. You hear her inner voice (I’m guessing this is a common thread in Rivers’ books) from a Christian perspective. Lots of meaty issues to discuss in a book club if your group would be interested and willing to talk about rape, abortion, adoption and the thorny issues surrounding all of those things, but with a Christian bent, for sure.

The Tuscan Child by Rhys Bowen. It’s kind of amazing how many and varied plot lines can be created from events of WWII. This is another one, about a current day woman who finds papers in the attic, after her father’s death, with references to “the child.” She never knew her father could have had another child – could she have a step-sibling somewhere? Her father she knew, had been shot down over Italy, but he never talked much about it. But of course, she must go to Italy to find out about this “child.” The book flips back and forth from this daughter on the search, to her father during the war, all of it taking place in a very small town in Tuscany. It’s about the varied people she meets who want her to go away and not dredge up anything about the war years (are they hiding something, you question), about how much she loves the landscape, and some of the people. And about the intense love affair between the injured pilot and a caring woman of the village. Very charming story. I could almost smell the flowers, taste the olives, hear the bees flitting, and loved the prose about the simple meals that were described. I really enjoyed the book. Perhaps not enough meat for a book club read, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy reading it nonetheless.

Leaving Blythe River: A Novel by Catherine Ryan Hyde. Almost a page turner. When one uses the phrase “coming of age,” it usually means (I think) love and loss/boyfriend/girlfriend, and in this case it’s somewhat that way. When Ethan, a 17-year old boy and his mother come home unexpectedly to find dad and his young secretary in a compromising position, all hell breaks loose. Separation happens instantly and just as his father moves out, his mother has to go take care of her aging mother. Ethan’s too young to be left in the NYC apartment alone, so Mom sends son to the father who is escaping from the world in Wyoming, living in a primitive A-frame house, and continuing his daily 20+ mile running journeys. Ethan and his father are barely speaking. They live in the middle of nowhere. Ethan feels betrayed by his father in every possible way, and somewhat by his mother for forcing him to live with his father for a temporary period. Then his father doesn’t return one day from his run. The authorities do a cursory search, but they are under the impression the dad wants to “get lost” on purpose. Ethan, although he thinks he doesn’t care, really does. What happens next is best left to you reading this book. Very interesting people (kind of loners) enter the picture and off they go to search. So worth reading.

The Girl With No Name by Diney Costelhoe. What a good book. Perhaps you’ve read before about the huge numbers of German refugee children who were sent to England before Hitler closed down any exits. This is a novel about one particular young girl, who is devastated when her mother puts her on one of the boats. She ends up in London, in an orphanage kind of place, and is eventually placed with a childless couple. She speaks no English. They speak no German, but they manage soon enough. Lisa (who eventually becomes Charlotte) is so homesick. She’s bullied at school, because most people and children don’t want any Germans there. A boy steps up to protect her, and as she grows up, she’s attracted to him. She shouldn’t be – he’s also German and from her own home town. He’s not a good match for her. You live with her through the blitz during all those war years and during one attack, she’s badly injured and loses her memory (and no ID on her). Through a series of mishaps she ends up in a village far from London, with a spinster woman who does eventually come to love her very much – they name her Charlotte and Charlotte she becomes. She goes to school there, still longing, though, for her mother and brother and her London foster family too. Then when she’s 16 she returns to London to help at the orphanage where she was originally placed and tries to find her foster parents. The story goes on from there, with the boy/man who “wants” her, the bad boy, and a good boy/man she befriends in the village in the country. Eventually she regains her memory. SUCH a good read.

The Girl with Seven Names by Hyanseo Lee. If you, like me, know little about North Korea and how it came to be what it is today, you’ve got to read this book. It’s a memoir written by a young woman who escaped from North Korea about 9 years ago. Her journey – and I mean JOURNEY – is harrowing, frightening, amazing, heart-rendering all at the same time. She chronicles the lives of the Kims (Kim Il-Sung, Kim Jong-Il to current Kim Jong Un), shares the strict propaganda that surrounds every North Korean citizen, the poverty and hunger, as well as the underground black market for food and goods. It took her awhile to get from North Korea, to China and eventually to South Korea, where she currently lives. She’s well educated and speaks English quite well. She was invited to be a speaker at a TED talk – you know about those, right? TED (Technology, Entertainment, Design) is a media organization which posts talks online for free distribution, under the slogan “ideas worth spreading.” I listen to them as  podcasts now and then. Always very educational, if sometimes over my head when it gets very technical. She works diligently for human rights now, doing her best to help other North Koreans escape. You owe it to yourself to read this book.

Also just finished reading The Sandcastle Girls by Chris Bohjalian. Another WOW book. I’ve always liked the author – many years ago I read his book, Midwives and really liked it. Don’t confuse this book with the one I recently read, The Last Midwife: A Novel by Sandra Dallas that I reviewed recently. I think we read it in one of my book groups. He’s a brilliant writer, and this one has a lot of characters and twists. It’s a novel, but based on a lot of truth regarding the Armenian genocide. Most of the book takes place in Aleppo, Syria with some good Samaritan folk trying to help rescue people (mostly children) following the forced long marches the Turks made prodding the Turkish Armenians to exit their country. But it also jumps to near present day as a family member is trying to piece together obscure parts of her grandparents’ former lives there. She uncovers some hidden truths (many survivors of the genocide never-ever-ever wanted to talk about it) and a bit more about her Armenian heritage. A riveting book – I could hardly put it down. Lots to discuss for a book club read. I simply must read more of Bohjalian’s books (he’s written many).

The Good Widow: A Novel by Lisa Steinke. All I can say is “wow.” In a general sense, this book is based on the premise of The Pilot’s Wife. But this one has some totally different twists and turns. A young wife is met at the door by police, informing her that her husband has died in an auto accident. Then she finds out he died in Hawaii – not Kansas, where she thought he was, on business. Then she finds out there was a woman in the car. Then she meets the fiance of the woman passenger and the two of them embark on a fact-finding mission in Hawaii to discover the truth. Well, I’m just sayin’ . . . the plot thickens. And thickens. And thickens clear up to the last few pages. Hang onto your seat. A really, really good, suspenseful read.

The Girl Who Wrote in Silk by Kelli Estes. What a WONDERFUL book. It opens up a shameful part of America’s past, but one you might not have heard about before this. In the late 1800s thousands of Chinese workers were brought to the West Coast to help with a variety of construction projects and a myriad of other things where laborers were needed. Many settled, married and made a new life for themselves. But suddenly the white population didn’t want them here anymore and they summarily ordered them ALL out of our country. This book chronicles a young Chinese girl, who was on a ship that was supposed to take her family to China, but the ship’s captain decided en route to dump them all overboard, to drown. The girl’s father knew it was going to happen and in order to save her, he threw his daughter off the ship as they were passing Orcas Island (in the San Juan Islands west of Seattle). She was saved. The book switches from that time to current time as a woman is rebuilding her family’s home on Orcas and finds a beautifully embroidered silk Chinese robe sleeve hidden under a stair step. The book is about that sordid past and the young girl’s descendents, and about the woman who is rebuilding. Stunner of a novel. Good for a book club read, I think. It has a reader’s guide at the back with good questions for book groups.

How It All Began: A Novel by Penelope Lively. I find it hard to describe this book – it’s wonderful. I loved it. But describing it is perplexing. The title relates to one of the characters, a woman of a certain age, who is mugged, and has to go live with her daughter and son in law for awhile since she’s stuck with crutches and has mobility problems. That starts the cavalcade of events that spread around her, with the characters. And she knows nothing whatsoever about them, hardly. They’re all somewhat inter-related (not much family, but mostly by circumstance) and they all get into some rather logical and some peculiar relationships. You engage  with each and every one of them; at least I sure did; and was trying to tell some of them to back away from what they were about to do. Or “be careful;” or “don’t go there.” That kind of thing. There is nothing insidious, no mystery involved – it’s all about these people and what happens to them. I was sad when the book was finished. The author, Lively, does add a chapter at the end – I wonder if it wasn’t part of the master plan – that kind of tidies up everything, and you get to see all of the characters move on with their lives, happy or not, but mostly happy. Really enjoyed the book. Am not sure it would be a good book club read, as the only thing to discuss are the characters themselves. Lively paints these characters well; you can just picture them as they get themselves in and out of relationship mischief.

 

Tasting Spoons

My blog's namesake - small, old and some very dented engraved silver plated tea spoons that belonged to my mother-in-law, and I use them to taste my food as I'm cooking.

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Posted in Beverages, on May 20th, 2007.


I’ve been under-the-weather this weekend. I think it’s a flu bug? Not sure, but food doesn’t thrill me. I’ve had juice, but am just going to go make myself a pot of tea. So thought I’d tell a little story about my tea and teapots. Growing up, probably like most of you, the only time I drank tea was when I was sick and my mother would brew Lipton’s with a teabag and some milk and honey. Then once I was able to eat a little something my mother would lovingly make me some milk toast – a piece of toast, buttered and sprinkled very lightly with sugar, placed in a wide shallow bowl and topped with about 1 cup of hot milk.

Until I became an adult – even a middle-aged adult, I’d never had anything except Lipton’s. Then in 1981 we met the English couple Jimmy & Pam – the couple I talked about a couple of weeks ago on this blog – Pamela, the professional chef, and Jimmy, the retired RAF Wing Commander. When we met them, that momentous evening at the local pub in Ilminster, they insisted we had to come and stay with them for a couple of days. Now when was it you met someone and they invited you to come stay in their home? We were overwhelmed. We actually had plans to drive down into Devon for a couple of days, but agreed we’d come back through Somerset and stay for two nights.

So, a couple of days later, we arrived at their home at about 4 pm. It was cold, drizzly Fall weather, so when we took our suitcases inside, Pamela said come into the kitchen, where we sat down with them to have a spot of tea. We had some wonderful thick sliced wheat bread with peanut butter and tea. It was the tea that sort-of exploded in my mouth – wow, I thought, this is absolutely delicious. It was nothing whatsoever like Lipton’s. And even though I’d been to England before, I’d always drunk coffee, even though it wasn’t the national drink!

When Pamela showed us the guest room upstairs, she pointed out the tea tray that was sitting on the window sill, including a little, unique pitcher of milk (sealed with plastic wrap) on the tray. They lived in a very old house with thick walls, and the milk stayed very cold. If we woke up in the night, she said, we could brew some tea. I must say, it probably had never occurred to me to brew myself some tea in the middle of the night. But the next morning when we awoke, we did make a pot of tea right there in our bedroom. Most Britons buy electric kettles, like this, or this, to brew hot water. Nowadays you can buy them here in the U.S., but for many years the only place I ever saw them was in the British Isles. They range in price from $11 for plastic, to upwards of $100 for stainless steel, cordless models. And no, I don’t have one.
I was enchanted with the little cream pitcher (pictured here), which I bought on a subsequent trip to England because I just think it’s so darned CUTE!

The next day they took us on a whirlwind drive around Somerset, including Lyme Regis, and a British military air museum in a nearby village. But that visit set the stage for many more with them. We always stay two nights. One night Pamela cooked dinner and the other night we took them out. But it was on the second trip to Britain that I was, again, in love with Pamela’s tea. So the first morning there she decided to give me a “tea lesson.” She made her own blend – she explained about the differences between standard black teas, and the smokey teas that lend a real depth of flavor. She would never, ever, use a tea bag. (There is also green tea, but I don’t like green tea, so I won’t give you any info about that.) My recollection is that she mixed 2/3 regular teas (two different kinds) and the other third a smokey tea. After we returned from that trip Pamela mailed us a package of different English teas, which I used to make my own blend.

But, she then proceeded to show me exactly how to make a PROPER pot of tea, and ever since that day, I’ve not wavered from this technique. Here’s what you need:
 
A teapot
A tea cozy (it’s a cover for the teapot)
Tea leaves (loose only)
A strainer, or tea ball to put inside the pot
A small pitcher of milk, warmed
Sugar (or sweetener), if desired

For me, part of the fun of making tea is the presentation, so I have my favorite tea tray (which I couldn’t find this morning) given to me by my friend Darlene 24 years ago. Because I often bring the tea tray upstairs to my office, when I do have tea, it needs to be easy to handle. While the water is boiling I put everything I need onto the tea tray – the strainer, a pretty tea spoon, the pitcher of warmed milk, and my sugar bowl. You’ll notice that on my tea tray this morning I put my bright red sugar bowl – I collect those little sugar bags from our travels. I never take more than one or two at a place, but I still have a large collection of sugars from different places in the world, and in languages I don’t begin to understand, either. Pamela gave me that idea, and I thought it was a very fun one, so adopted it.

Making a Proper Pot of Tea
1. Bring the pot of water to a boil.
2. Pour about 1 cup of very hot water into the teapot, swirl it around, then pour it out. This is an important step to warm the teapot before you pour the real hot water into the pot. You want to start with a hot pot. Alternately, you can use the hottest tap water and allow the teapot to sit while the water is boiling, then pour it out.
3. Drop the tea leaves into the pot and pour the hot water over it. Put the lid on, then place on the tray with the tea cozy on top. If you don’t have a tea cozy, cover the teapot with a kitchen towel to keep the heat in.
4. Allow the tea to stew for a maximum of 5 minutes.
5. Pour out into mugs, through a strainer, then add milk or sugar. In Britain, you don’t use both – you either use milk OR sugar. But sometimes I do anyway. It depends on the type of tea I’m drinking. My favorite sweetener is honey, but usually I add Splenda.

Because of Pamela’s influence in my life with all-things-tea, I’ve acquired a number of teapots over the years. The red one is certainly the most colorful, but it makes about 6 cups. The one on the tea tray is probably my favorite because it makes just the right amount for me to have 2 cups of tea. I also have a very fancy, small teapot that belonged
to my grandmother. I love it for its beauty, but it doesn’t keep the tea very hot, so it’s relegated to the cupboard, I’m afraid.

A very special one, though, is Pamela’s teapot, the one she gave me when she and Jimmy were downsizing their big, old house and moving to one of the Cotswolds towns. She asked me if there was anything I’d like to have, and I requested a teapot. She chose this one, and I brought it home with me as a carry-on. Very carefully. It also makes a big pot of tea, though, so I don’t use it very often. And although I have a collection of fancy china tea cups, I never use them for myself because tea just doesn’t stay hot in them. I prefer mugs, always.

I’m including one other pot here – it’s actually a coffeepot – I bought it at a lovely tea shop in the Cotswolds one year. It’s Staffordshire china, and a press pot. I did use it regularly for several years after I bought it, and was very cautious because it’s quite fragile. Mostly I
make espresso (a latte, actually) now, and Dave makes a pot of coffee for himself in our big Cuisinart grind and brew machine.

So, to finish the story, I’ve become a connoisseur of tea, even though I don’t make it often – but for some years when I was working I’d wake up in the middle of the night and couldn’t sleep (now I know it was the Claritin-D keeping me awake), I’d get up, make myself a pot of tea and quietly watch tv or turn on my computer and play mindless solitaire games. One year, I think it was 2000, Cherrie and I took a 10-day “Tea Tour” to England. She and I both like Earl Grey – and 12 of us, all ladies, journeyed to Britain. We had afternoon tea 5 times in 10 days. By the 5th time we’d all had enough of the afternoon tea, but it was sure fun.

So, go ahead, why don’t you make yourself some tea too.

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  1. Kate

    said on May 22nd, 2007:

    What a beautiful story.

    I love a good cup of tea and have gradually switched over from tea bags to loose leaf, keeping both on hand. Your explanation of making a good pot of tea is wonderful.

  2. yvette

    said on May 22nd, 2007:

    Carolyn,
    Can you please share with us
    your receipes for tea sandwiches
    and other tasty treats that we
    can enjoy with our “proper pot of
    tea”.
    Yvette

  3. Carolyn

    said on May 22nd, 2007:

    Kate – thanks. I loved writing up the story. Our friend in England is in her mid-80’s now and doesn’t DO computers, so I emailed her son-in-law, asking him to print out the two stories I’ve written and give them to her. She’s only read the first one so far, about the Cold Green Pea Soup, and she cried. She’ll cry over this one, too, I expect, especially when she sees her teapot in the group of teapot pictures. I’ll have to do another post one day about the different kinds of teas I drink. I have about 4 or 5 that I enjoy more than others, of which Earl Grey is right up there at the top.

    Yvette – yes, I will do a post sometime soon on tea sandwiches. I have one, that’s my very own concoction for curried chicken, but recently I attended a cooking class (yes, yet another one) that was all about afternoon tea (as if I haven’t gone to enough afternoon teas, or gone to enough classes on the subject), and I acquired two new sandwich recipes that were really, really good. I’ll post those as well. So stay tuned. Only problem is that I’ll have to MAKE them in order to photograph them, so it might be a little while . . .

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