In 1993, Susan and I spent our honeymoon in Orlando, FL. In April 2007, I returned for two simultaneous conferences (presenting at one and attending the other). In November 2007, Susan and I surprised our daughters with a family vacation in Orlando. In March 2008, I returned to attend another conference. Do you know where I'm going with this, Faithful Reader? Yes, it's April 2009, and I'm in Orlando again for another conference! I'm coming here as regularly as a retiree! I have been here so frequently, in fact, that at the airport I notice each time what has been remodeled or refurbished since my last visit ("Oh, the new ceilings are in . . . that's new carpet . . . that wall didn't used to be there . . . ")!
I flew out of Dickinson yesterday before 6:00 A.M. and arrived in Orlando late in the afternoon (their time), making it to my hotel (the Rosen Centre) in time to check in, drop off my things, and find the conference venue for an opening reception. The Orange County Convention Center is a huge facility: over two million square feet! In fact, I spent a good half-hour walking around the wrong building (two enormous concourses, connected by a walkway, comprise the convention center) before figuring out where I was supposed to be. Even the west building, where our conference is, is huge; it takes a long time to get from one end to the other, let alone from one floor to another (and there are four floors). I followed the smell of the food, though, filled my belly, and returned to the hotel (also huge--I'm on the 18th floor, and there are another half-dozen floors above mine), conveniently located just across the street.
I'm attending the annual conference of the Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development. At the first session this morning, I heard from the author of one of the textbooks I use for one of the courses I teach! I got some good ideas from him for using the book with my students. The other sessions today were valuable, too, though not led by such "big names" as the textbook author. (P.S. Goldie Hawn will co-present a session tomorrow on work done by a foundation in her name.)
It was a long day, but of course I just can't relax now that I'm in my hotel room--I brought along too much work to do! Yes, last night I graded some quizzes and compiled the results of some midterm feedback reports that I solicited from my students; tonight I will grade a set of midterm exams and type up the feedback from that class, and tomorrow I will repeat the process for another section of the course. Monday night I plan to work on a "sermon" that I'm delivering Thursday night at our church. And, of course, I brought along three books to read when I can find time on the plane, in the airport, between sessions, and before I fall asleep each night.
Some conference attendees are spending their nights "out on the town," but I can't wait to get back to my room to buckle down and get some of my work done. E-mails from friends and family who know that I'm here jealously ask how wonderful the weather is here, but how would I know? Except for the walks to and from the convention center, I'm inside all day and all night attending conference sessions or working. Spend 5 days in Orlando, FL and never once see the sights or dine out or go golfing but instead work the entire time? I guess I'm not a snow bird after all!
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Hearing My Story in Someone Else's Words
Today I attended a luncheon featuring a reading by musician and writer Debra Marquart, who is on campus for the university's annual Women's Voices celebration. She is a native North Dakotan who has written a memoir about her childhood here, and she read aloud excerpts from that book: The Horizontal World: Growing Up Wild in the Middle of Nowhere (read this and this).
Each passage was terrific and managed to be both ordinary and extraordinary simultaneously. She wrote about topics that I could have written about, except that her perspective is a decidedly feminine one. Other than the woman's lens through which she views her rural childhood experiences, her looking back is not unlike my own; and the places, events, and people she recollects are similar to those from my past, just with different names.
Marquart writes about family members and, now as an adult, tries to make sense of their behavior and character traits in light of their life circumstances (something that, as children, we don't bother to do--for example, we just know Aunt So-'n'-So is peretually grouchy, but we don't take the time to walk in her shoes and understand the causes of her demeanor). Marquart also writes about the physical world in which she grew up--the farm, the countryside, the small town--and the way in which she and others her age came to know this setting by interacting with it--by doing farm work, by attending parties in the hills outside of town, by driving the main street with other teens as a social activity.
Most impressively, Marquart finds larger truths in the smaller details of ordinary daily life. She comes to admire the struggles that her parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, etc., faced and the hardships that they endured silently as a matter of fact, their lack of complaint a reflection of the character both prerequisite to and a result of making a living on the plains. In what she read aloud today, I heard her describe relatives who could have been my own, who had gone through trials in life that my own immigrant ancestors must have. I heard her describe childhood experiences and attitudes that were my own or those of my friends and neighbors. She described life on the farm the way I might, and she now looks back on her childhood with an insight brought about by the passage of time, her own maturity, and a poet's ability to see the world in metaphors.
I had tears in my eyes occasionally as something she read brought back vivid memories of my own past: a particular relative, an item in someone's home, a summer moment outside on the farm, a feeling about growing up in the country and yearning for life in the city, etc. The final passage, one that she hadn't ever read aloud for a group, brought tears even to her own eyes. It was a great way to spend a lunch, and I'll definitely check out her book.
Each passage was terrific and managed to be both ordinary and extraordinary simultaneously. She wrote about topics that I could have written about, except that her perspective is a decidedly feminine one. Other than the woman's lens through which she views her rural childhood experiences, her looking back is not unlike my own; and the places, events, and people she recollects are similar to those from my past, just with different names.
Marquart writes about family members and, now as an adult, tries to make sense of their behavior and character traits in light of their life circumstances (something that, as children, we don't bother to do--for example, we just know Aunt So-'n'-So is peretually grouchy, but we don't take the time to walk in her shoes and understand the causes of her demeanor). Marquart also writes about the physical world in which she grew up--the farm, the countryside, the small town--and the way in which she and others her age came to know this setting by interacting with it--by doing farm work, by attending parties in the hills outside of town, by driving the main street with other teens as a social activity.
Most impressively, Marquart finds larger truths in the smaller details of ordinary daily life. She comes to admire the struggles that her parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, etc., faced and the hardships that they endured silently as a matter of fact, their lack of complaint a reflection of the character both prerequisite to and a result of making a living on the plains. In what she read aloud today, I heard her describe relatives who could have been my own, who had gone through trials in life that my own immigrant ancestors must have. I heard her describe childhood experiences and attitudes that were my own or those of my friends and neighbors. She described life on the farm the way I might, and she now looks back on her childhood with an insight brought about by the passage of time, her own maturity, and a poet's ability to see the world in metaphors.
I had tears in my eyes occasionally as something she read brought back vivid memories of my own past: a particular relative, an item in someone's home, a summer moment outside on the farm, a feeling about growing up in the country and yearning for life in the city, etc. The final passage, one that she hadn't ever read aloud for a group, brought tears even to her own eyes. It was a great way to spend a lunch, and I'll definitely check out her book.
Saturday, March 07, 2009
A Man's Place Is in the Kitchen
Faithful Readers, surely you recall that Saturday evenings at our house call for a Scandinavian menu. When I suggested "Scandinavian Saturday" for the lineup of nightly specialty menus, the intent was to give impetus to our exploring foods from our cultural background, to expanding our repertoire of dishes from our rich Nordic heritage, to developing in our children an appreciation for ethnic foods that represent their own ancestry. I thought it would be good to go beyond the lutefisk, lefse, Jell-O, and hotdishes that people in the Midwest associate with Scandinavian cuisine and to see what foods appeal to the palates of northern Europeans.
Well, I think Scandinavian Saturday has served mostly to drive Susan nuts as she racks her brain for menu ideas. She's more German than Norwegian or Swedish, so discovering new Scandinavian delicacies is less meaningful to her than to me. Also, Norwegian and Swedish recipes are a little harder to come by than, say, Italian or French or Mexican or Greek; there just isn't the same market in North America for Norwegian cookbooks or Swedish restaurants as there is for some other ethnicities. Furthermore, when she turned to the Internet for help, she often found recipes that called for unfamiliar, inaccessible ingredients or that just didn't sound all that appealing (e.g., lamb, which I like but of which Susan is not a fan).
Even stretching the "rules" of Saturday night to allow for food from countries near Scandinavia (i.e., British fish-'n'-chips or German sauerkraut would qualify) didn't seem to help. I knew we had a situation when, about a week ago, she suggested a different alliterative theme to replace our weekly Scandinavian meal: "Soup and Salad Saturday." Uff-dah! There was only one thing I could do: offer to take over the cooking on Scandinavian Saturdays.
Abigail volunteered to be my assistant for this first attempt, so she and I went grocery shopping this afternoon and then returned home to start cooking. She was very helpful both in the grocery store and in the kitchen, fetching and measuring and stirring and scooping and taste-testing, etc. We created our own appetizer but followed recipes for the main course and dessert. Here is what we served:
These were gobbled up with rapid dispatch! We had hoped to use Jarlsberg cheese instead but couldn't find any. The Gouda was great, though.
The recipe called for halibut, but it was so expensive! The torsk was tasty but was so thick that it took longer to cook than we had anticipated and would have been better broiled than pan-fried. None of us could remember ever having had leeks before, but they were an immediate hit (probably because of the savory vinaigrette--our girls love capers!). The other dish was essentially smashed potatoes with flakes of crab mixed throughout. We had to make some substitutions for that dish, though: we used Red River potatoes in place of Greenland potatoes, chive sour cream in place of fresh chives and crème fraîche (which I didn't have time to make from scratch), and raspberry balsamic vinegar in place of elderberry flower vinegar. (I know what you're thinking: the grocery store had no elderberry flower vinegar?! It's a travesty.)
We mixed the bread crumbs with sugar, cinnamon, and butter and browned them on the stove. We made our own whipped cream with plenty of sugar and vanilla extract. The recipe called for chopped hazelnuts as a garnish, but we couldn't find hazelnuts, so we improvised: we smeared a little Nutella in the bottom of each glass (we used martini glasses so that the layers would be easily visible), layered the ingredients in a decorative fashion, added a dollop of Nutella to the whipped cream layer on top, and sprinkled a dash of breadcrumbs over the whipped cream as a final garnish.
So, what do you think, kittens? Does that menu sound appealing to you? Does it sound Scandinavian?
A better question: Do you have any recipes to offer me for upcoming Scandinavian Saturdays?! I'm off the hook for next Saturday because I'll be out of town, but the Saturdays thereafter will just keep coming, and I'll need to be ready for them . . .
Well, I think Scandinavian Saturday has served mostly to drive Susan nuts as she racks her brain for menu ideas. She's more German than Norwegian or Swedish, so discovering new Scandinavian delicacies is less meaningful to her than to me. Also, Norwegian and Swedish recipes are a little harder to come by than, say, Italian or French or Mexican or Greek; there just isn't the same market in North America for Norwegian cookbooks or Swedish restaurants as there is for some other ethnicities. Furthermore, when she turned to the Internet for help, she often found recipes that called for unfamiliar, inaccessible ingredients or that just didn't sound all that appealing (e.g., lamb, which I like but of which Susan is not a fan).
Even stretching the "rules" of Saturday night to allow for food from countries near Scandinavia (i.e., British fish-'n'-chips or German sauerkraut would qualify) didn't seem to help. I knew we had a situation when, about a week ago, she suggested a different alliterative theme to replace our weekly Scandinavian meal: "Soup and Salad Saturday." Uff-dah! There was only one thing I could do: offer to take over the cooking on Scandinavian Saturdays.
Abigail volunteered to be my assistant for this first attempt, so she and I went grocery shopping this afternoon and then returned home to start cooking. She was very helpful both in the grocery store and in the kitchen, fetching and measuring and stirring and scooping and taste-testing, etc. We created our own appetizer but followed recipes for the main course and dessert. Here is what we served:
appetizer
We topped rye crisps with Gouda cheese, flaked salmon, and diced cucumbers and fresh dill.
These were gobbled up with rapid dispatch! We had hoped to use Jarlsberg cheese instead but couldn't find any. The Gouda was great, though.
main course
We served torsk with boiled leeks in a vinaigrette flavored with capers, shallots, and garlic. We also made a crab compote with potatoes.
The recipe called for halibut, but it was so expensive! The torsk was tasty but was so thick that it took longer to cook than we had anticipated and would have been better broiled than pan-fried. None of us could remember ever having had leeks before, but they were an immediate hit (probably because of the savory vinaigrette--our girls love capers!). The other dish was essentially smashed potatoes with flakes of crab mixed throughout. We had to make some substitutions for that dish, though: we used Red River potatoes in place of Greenland potatoes, chive sour cream in place of fresh chives and crème fraîche (which I didn't have time to make from scratch), and raspberry balsamic vinegar in place of elderberry flower vinegar. (I know what you're thinking: the grocery store had no elderberry flower vinegar?! It's a travesty.)
dessert
We served Veiled Farm Girls, apparently a traditional Norwegian dessert that is simple but refreshing: layers of applesauce, whipped cream, and sweetened bread crumbs.
We mixed the bread crumbs with sugar, cinnamon, and butter and browned them on the stove. We made our own whipped cream with plenty of sugar and vanilla extract. The recipe called for chopped hazelnuts as a garnish, but we couldn't find hazelnuts, so we improvised: we smeared a little Nutella in the bottom of each glass (we used martini glasses so that the layers would be easily visible), layered the ingredients in a decorative fashion, added a dollop of Nutella to the whipped cream layer on top, and sprinkled a dash of breadcrumbs over the whipped cream as a final garnish.
So, what do you think, kittens? Does that menu sound appealing to you? Does it sound Scandinavian?
A better question: Do you have any recipes to offer me for upcoming Scandinavian Saturdays?! I'm off the hook for next Saturday because I'll be out of town, but the Saturdays thereafter will just keep coming, and I'll need to be ready for them . . .
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