wellfleet beach by shridar ganesan

A young man just walked by with a cellphone at his ear.  I will not discuss the attachment of cellphones to nearly every one’s ear in public.  I keep mine in my bag, and it rings at inappropriate times such as during class.  Then it rings to tell me I missed that call.  The after- ring.  Still, I will not talk about cellphones.

I’ve been thinking about Provincetown again.  Maybe because I associate with my work, and I’m working again, on a new novel.  Today’s weather reminds me in part of Provincetown, the grey with lighter grey in the sky, the hushed sound.  Can I imagine the roar of the see as I hear a car in the distance?  Above, Wellfleet.  Perhaps I’ll move back, or back to Sag Harbor.  In one year, I’ll be back on the job search, although how nice it is to think of just writing, with a little half-time position somewhere to give me structure.

Yesterday my cousin’s daughter got married, and I imagined the bright silk saris and some of the ceremony.  I even went on-line to see if I could find images of south Indian wedding ceremonies, to somehow vicariously take part.  In a month, I will receive pictures–more likely, downloads on the computer.

Hasn’t begun to rain.  Other people write about world events–I track the weather.

Already February.  The Kripalu website says February can often seem like the longest month.  Perhaps that’s true, with the dark, but I always think it goes very quickly.  It’s one of my favorite months actually; sometimes there’s a false spring. It’s a good month to burrow and be quiet with yourself.  I’m reading To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf for a class I teach.  I’m struck again by her prose, her elegance.  I discovered a website (woolfonline.com) that offers reproductions of her handwritten drafts, as well as an outline.  I’m so taken that she outlined.  It gives all us writers courage I think.  Reading Woolf makes my own work progress.  The only other writer who has that effect on me is Carole Maso.  The Two Muses.  Alongside Woolf, I’m reading the delicious The Hours by Michael Cunningham.  It’s taken me this long.  I started it when it came out, then just put it away until yesterday.  Of course he makes me think, why didn’t I think of that for a structure?!  Well, I didn’t.

On another note, I finally found out who Lady Gaga is. On You Tube, there’s a video of her singing with Elton John.  The end of their duet is very sweet as they both pay homage to one another, especially she.  When she performed by herself, I kept waiting for Madonna to walk out of the wings and join her.  I know so little about current music. I think I entered a dark hole in the mid-1990’s.

Happy birthday to Subashree!

image from freeimages.uk

A long time ago, I volunteered at Outermost Community Radio, WOMR-FM, in Provincetown.  My friend Kathy Shorr gave me her show, Monday First Light, and I rose at dawn, dragged a bunch of LP’s to the station, and played music from 6am-9am. I was very, very happy. Then, Denya LeVine suggested we do a show called Veggie Bites.  Or was it Veggie Bits?  Denya and I produced, wrote, and directed three minute segments on food.  Among other things, I learned how to splice together tape, a skill that probably has gone the way of, well, vinyl records.

One of our features was on tofu.  It was Denya who taught me to press tofu, to take a cutting board, balance it on the block of tofu, then weigh that down with a five-pound jar of beans.  Every time I press tofu, I think of Denya.

These days, the recipes I see for tofu don’t call for pressing.  Why is that?  Does anyone know?

The best tofu dish I ever had was served when I was a guest of my student John Parbst and his wife out in Long Island.  John made this tofu barbeque that was amazing.

The best tofu dish I’ve made comes straight out of Annie Sommerville’s Fields of Green cookbook, p.273.  She credits it to Tassajara.  It involves ginger, garlic, and soy.  I leave out the dry mustard–never a staple on my cupboard–and I’m sure I must leave out the sake (I haven’t made this in years) but the result, properly marinated, is utterly delicious.

Back in Provincetown, I had three cookbooks: Mosewood; Madhur Jaffrey’s World of the East; and Anna Thomas’ The Vegetarian Epicure, Book Two.  Book One, I’m told had recipes paired with marijuana, but Book Two did not.  Mostly, I used Moosewood.  Every Saturday, we had a potluck, those of us at the Fine Arts Work Center, and mostly, we came up with variations of pasta.  Though I can’t really recall any of those potlucks now, I think they were important to our creative souls and sense of community.  Even today, I wish I had a regular potluck to attend.

I’ve cooked my way through the usual suspects in vegetarian cooking:  Julie Sahni’s exquisite  Classic Indian Vegetarian & Grain Cooking, Laurel’s Kitchen (who did not want to be Laurel,overseeing the beans in her philadendron filled, cat friendly communal kitchen?) and  The Greens Cookbook by Deborah Madison.  Then I discovered The Inspired Vegatarian, with inspired photographs and recipes featuring syllabubs; The Vegetarian Table: France with equally inspired photographs of, oh, fig and arugula salad and vegetable ragout; From an Italian Garden by Judith Barrett; Sicilian Vegetarian Cooking by John Penza; How to be a Domestic Goddess by Nigela Lawson( which makes for heavenly bedtime reading and really good recipes); Lord Krishna’s Cuisine by Yamuna Devi, a diciple of Srila Prabhupada; Anna Pump’s scrumptious Country Weekend Entertaining and The Loaves & Fishes Cookbook.  These days, I most often consult Jack Bishop’s Vegetables Every Day.

I still don’t eat enough vegetables or tofu.  Become addicted to vegetables, a massage therapist once suggested.  Words of wisdom to one addicted to sweets.

Another reading suggestion: Animal, Vegetable, Mineral by Barbara Kingsolver.  It has good recipes, too.

Maybe next Tuesday, I’ll pen some thoughts on M.F.K.Fisher, Ruth Reichl, Amanda Hesser, Alice Waters, and other queens of the literary kitchen.