J and I were reminiscing about a wonderful couscous dish we made years ago; it was full of Middle Eastern [...]]]> Have you taken a look at the spices in your cabinet lately? A really good look? A recent conversation with my husband made me realize that it was time to weed through those carefully alphabetized jars.

J and I were reminiscing about a wonderful couscous dish we made years ago; it was full of Middle Eastern spices and flavors. We got the recipe from a friend but had put off making it for about six months because it called for cardamom; on our student budgets we couldn’t afford it. When I finally did bite the bullet and purchase the cardamom, the resulting dish was worth the investment.

What’s the key phrase in that previous paragraph? It’s “student budgets,” which we last saw in 1993. Yes, that nineteen-year-old Durkee jar has moved with us to several apartments and four houses, from Cambridge to Syracuse to Charlotte to Connecticut and back to the Boston area. That’s a lot of miles on an elderly jar!

It even has the original price sticker ($6.49!) from Star Market in Cambridge — for those of you familiar with the area, we purchased this back when groceries were sent via an underground conveyer to a drive-up hut in the middle of the parking lot. I’m not sure when that Star was converted to a Shaw’s (and the steps re-graded and the hut dismantled), but this little jar is a piece of history.

And history it is.

With the help of the McCormick “How Old Are Your Spices” site, I’ve culled many a jar from the cabinet.  When I plugged in the product code from this tin of pepper (in my defense, we use freshly ground pepper for seasoning, and rarely make recipes that call for pepper as an ingredient), I got the following message:

You threw out your boy band CDs. Throw out your old spices.

This spice was made on 11/6/1998

How embarrassing!

I dare you to investigate the spices in your cabinet — what’s the oldest you’ll find?!

For other kitchen stories – recipes, cookbook reviews, discussion of food-themed movies, etc., turn to Beth Fish Reads’ Weekend Cooking.

The winner is announced this morning on my Giveaways page … click here to see who it is!

Welcome to this week’s Spotlight on Bookstores! Taylor M. Polites shares a bit about the bookish treasures to be found in Providence, Rhode Island. From a well-known indie to university bookstores, private and public libraries, “America’s Renaissance City” has a wealth of interesting and unusual places to scout for books. Best [...]]]>

photo credit: Jamie Casertano

Welcome to this week’s Spotlight on Bookstores! Taylor M. Polites shares a bit about the bookish treasures to be found in Providence, Rhode Island. From a well-known indie to university bookstores, private and public libraries, “America’s Renaissance City” has a wealth of interesting and unusual places to scout for books. Best of all (selfishly), it’s just over an hour from me; I plan to go on a book treasure hunt this summer, using Taylor’s essay as a map!

A few weeks ago I introduced you to the author of this post – Taylor M. Polites’s novel The Rebel Wife (from Simon & Schuster) is hitting bookstore shelves this week! This novel, set in Reconstruction Alabama, center on Augusta “Gus” Branson is a young widow whose quest for freedom turns into a race for her life. Taylor was born in Huntsville, Alabama, the basis for The Rebel Wife’s fictional town of Albion, and has been researching this novel since he was a teen. I can only imagine his delight when he uncovered the treasure he did at Cellar Stories – Providence, indeed!

To read more, visit Taylor M. Polites’ blog, follow him on twitter (@taylormpolites), and “like” him on Facebook.

Providence Athenaeum

I moved to Providence, Rhode Island about a year ago. For a city of its relatively modest size, it has an incredible level of culture. Part of that culture is a great appreciation for books. There is a great independent bookstore, Books on the Square. There was a Borders at the mall, but that is gone now. There are several colleges and universities that have bookstores, including the wonderful Brown University Bookstore. There are some of the oldest, most historic and beautiful libraries I have ever had the privilege of working in: my all-time favorite, the Providence Athenaeum, founded in 1753 and housed in an 1838 building, it is one of the oldest private libraries in the country and yet a warm and welcoming center of community. The Providence Public Library is in a beautiful late 19^th century building that sums up all the faded glory of Providence perfectly. The beautiful marble Hay library at Brown University and also the fantastic open stacks of the Rockefeller Library have become havens for me. The Rhode Island School of Design library is housed in the old Rhode Island Hospital Trust building, whose massive marble-columned, barrel-vaulted lobby has become a spectacular reading room. And in addition to these are a few used bookstores, which brings me to my special focus.

In the heart of downtown, along a quiet side-street and up a flight of concrete stairs, is Cellar Stories Books.Yes, Cellar Stories, but on the second floor. While many bookstores have turned to selling toys and gifts, cards and paper items, or installed coffee shops, wine bars or event spaces, Cellar Stories is very simply what it is — a used bookstore. When you enter, the owner is probably sitting on the stool on your right, surrounded by stacks and stacks of books, paging through them, considering them. And before you, tall stacks of unfinished wood going virtually to the ceiling filled with books. When the shelves are filled, the books are stacked on top of the books on the shelves, or in rolling carts, or in piles on the floor or whatever free surface presents itself. You can ask the woman behind the counter about a title and she will narrow her eyes and look up to the ceiling and turn down a corner of her mouth, then take you to the two or three different sections where your book might be. But it’s not about getting what you came for at Cellar Stories, it’s about finding what you didn’t expect.

Cellar Stories interior

I was wandering the aisles the last time I was there when I looked down on the floor and on top of a stack of books about two feet high was A Fool’s Errand by Albion W. Tourgée. Tourgée was a Union man who fought in the Civil War, moved to North Carolina and served in the government during Reconstruction and was himself a victim of threats and violence by the Ku Klux Klan. He wrote a great (sensational) historical book called The Invisible Empire about Klan activities in the South during the 1870’s (something he had personal experience with). To find his novel based on those experiences sitting on the floor of Cellar Stories as if it was waiting for me, a book that has not been in print for many years and that I had never seen before although I had looked for it, that is what I love about this place. For a writer of Southern fiction focusing on Reconstruction, it was a little gift from the literature gods. Thank you, Cellar Stories!

Krys Lee’s Drifting House is a collection of short stories set in both Korea and the US; her work “explores love, identity, war, and the homes we make for ourselves.”

The publisher is offering a [...]]]> Do you enjoy short fiction? If you’re not sure, you may find this is the perfect place to dip into a new experience!

Krys Lee’s Drifting House is a collection of short stories set in both Korea and the US; her work “explores love, identity, war, and the homes we make for ourselves.”

The publisher is offering a giveaway of Drifting House; to enter, click over here to this post on my Giveaways page.

Welcome to Wednesday on She Is Too Fond of Books! We’ve got a fun Spotlight on Bookstores post that will get you through the mid-week doldrums. Here, author Heather Huffman shares her story of Hammonds Books in St. Louis, Missouri … home to used, rare, collectible, and out-of-print books, accented with beautiful chandeliers [...]]]>

author Heather Huffman

Welcome to Wednesday on She Is Too Fond of Books! We’ve got a fun Spotlight on Bookstores post that will get you through the mid-week doldrums. Here, author Heather Huffman shares her story of Hammonds Books in St. Louis, Missouri … home to used, rare, collectible, and out-of-print books, accented with beautiful chandeliers and classical music playing in the background.

Heather Huffman writes romantic suspense with strong female leads who refuse to lose hope, and sees her books as a way to not only entertain, but to raise awareness of the realities of modern day slavery. She shares the passion of her resilient heroines to make a difference, and so dedicates both her time and a portion of her book royalties to organizations that fight against human trafficking.

Heather was born and spent her early childhood in Florida, but now calls the beautiful state of Missouri home. Her greatest joy, aside from writing, is to hit the road with her three boys for adventures unknown. She is the author of Throwaway, Ties that Bind, Jailbird, Suddenly a Spy and Ring of Fire. You can find out more about her writing and charitable work on www.heatherhuffman.net.

Cherokee Street in South St. Louis delivers original and unique experiences to visitors, lined with unconventional businesses that radiate a creative vibe as you walk down the street. I’ve always had a special appreciation for this little-known St. Louis treasure and have even featured it as a setting in two of my novels.   One shop in particular, however, has truly won my heart as both a novelist and avid reader - Hammonds Books.

When I first entered Hammonds, my initial impression was that I couldn’t afford to be there. The first book I picked up reinforced that feeling. It was The Tempest of the Heart by Mary Agatha Gray, and it was $75. But it was also from 1911, and I was captivated from the first page.

Despite my initial sticker shock, there was something about the floor-to-ceiling shelves upon shelves of books that drew me in. Even the stairs were lined with books.  Any wall space not covered with literature was adorned with eclectic and charming prints. Pavarotti piped through the speakers. A sign offered coffee, but I couldn’t fathom fettering my hands with anything other than books.

Hammonds Books is an homage to the written word, and I soon found myself so lost in books that I forgot I couldn’t afford to be there. While there were treasures from every decade waiting to be explored, I found I only had eyes for the oldest of tomes, written when language was still lyrical, when words were something to be rolled leisurely off the tongue, not spit out in haste. Happily, I also found books I could afford – one treasure from the 1800s and one from 1905!

More than my purchase of that day, it became apparent I’d found a new guilty pleasure, a refuge. There was no slavery to fight in that little store, only words to immerse myself in. It was the kind of place that made me wish I had a home with its own library. The kind of library that would have a corner to tuck myself away in and lots of old books to line the shelves. Until I have that fantasy home, I will content myself to roam the aisles of Hammonds Books and dream.

Thank you for sharing your guilty pleasure, Heather!  I believe you have plenty of company in that favorite pastime

Readers, I want to share one more fun fact about Heather. Take a look at that book cover for Jailbird at the top of the page; now read this tidbit, from her website: “Not only did I take the picture for the Jailbird cover, but I used my own feet when we couldn’t coordinate schedules with the photographer and the intended model. I think my neighbors were questioning my sanity, watching me snap pictures of my feet after dragging them through the mud to dirty them up!” Who ever said being a published author was all glamour!?

I reviewed Defending Jacob (William Landay) yesterday, and am looking forward to sharing my thoughts on The Snow Child (Eowyn Ivey, out Feb. 1), Three Weeks in December (Audrey Schulman, out Jan. 31), and No One is Here Except All of Us (Ramona [...]]]> There are several books out new this week that I’m really excited about!

I reviewed Defending Jacob (William Landay) yesterday, and am looking forward to sharing my thoughts on The Snow Child (Eowyn Ivey, out Feb. 1), Three Weeks in December (Audrey Schulman, out Jan. 31), and No One is Here Except All of Us (Ramona Ausubel, out Feb. 2).

Today I’m sharing a little about The Art of Hearing Heartbeats by Jan-Philipp Sendker. Born in Hamburg, Sendker was a correspondent for Stern for almost a decade, traveling extensively in both the United States and Asia. He has written a previously published non-fiction work about China, entitled Cracks in the Great Wall. The Art of Hearing Heartbeats – already a bestseller in Europe – has now been translated into English by Kevin Wiliarty.

The author’s website has a short essay about the journey this novel has taken, with the blessings of a Burmese astrologer and Sendker’s conviction that The Art of Hearing Heartbeats would find a bigger audience than the initial German sales of 6,000 copies, which his publisher said was “Not a bad number for a debut novel, all things considered. An unknown author. A strange setting. No reviews. No advertising.” Readers today are glad he persevered!

The novel opens in a teahouse in Burma, where a stranger asks Julia, a woman in her mid-30s, “Do you believe in love?” He refers to a love that is more pwerful than the force of fear, a love that can triumph over death. That question sets her reeling, and set The Art of Hearing Heartbeats in motion.

Here’s the publisher’s synopsis:

A poignant and inspirational love story set in Burma, The Art of Hearing Heartbeats  spans the decades between the 1950s and the present.  When a successful New York lawyer suddenly disappears without a trace, neither his wife nor his daughter Julia has any idea where he might be…until they find a love letter he wrote many years ago, to a Burmese woman they have never heard of. Intent on solving the mystery and coming to terms with her father’s past, Julia decides to travel to the village where the woman lived. There she uncovers a tale of unimaginable hardship, resilience, and passion that will reaffirm the reader’s belief in the power of love to move mountains.

Curious? The book is out today – a beautiful (embossed cover, French flaps) paperback (affordable, under $15), from Other Press.

He came to live with us on Labor Day weekend, when we had invited friends over for a barbecue.

“Guacamole and chips!” the kids replied, when asked what we should serve (aside from J’s grilled burgers which are The Best!). So, guac and chips were added to the list, along with corn on the cob, [...]]]> Meet Avner.

He came to live with us on Labor Day weekend, when we had invited friends over for a barbecue.

“Guacamole and chips!” the kids replied, when asked what we should serve (aside from J’s grilled burgers which are The Best!). So, guac and chips were added to the list, along with corn on the cob, green salad, baked beans … I don’t really remember, this was months ago, and my brain has made room for other things in the meantime.

This is where Avner comes in, along with two or three friends. I don’t remember their names, frankly, they weren’t that impressive. After we had composted their skins and smashed their flesh into yummy creamy guacamole, the seeds were discarded. Perhaps they’ve sprouted up in the landfill somewhere.

But Avner stayed with us. Being children of the 70s, J and I have fond memories of poking the sides of an avocado seed with toothpicks and suspending over the sides of a glass, the seed partially submerged in water. And waiting. And waiting. And changing the scummy water for fresh water. And waiting some more.

This is the fun we wanted to share with our children – lessons about time passing, and patience, and scummy water. (Can you hear the sarcasm here? I was ready to send Avner to the same landfill that his cousins visited, but J remained firm).

Finally, a root appeared at the bottom of the seed. It grew about 5 inches before we noticed the top of Avner had split as well, and a tiny sprout emerged.

Into the pot he went, and he’s been growing steadily. Up, up, up to about a foot tall, with four tiny leaves; J remembers the plant he grew as a kid being about five feet tall (and fruitless). I expect that he’ll keep growing, and I’ll transplant him outdoors in the spring. (oops, misplaced modifier, that’s he, Avner, not he, J).

Of course, a quick visit to Wikipedia tells me the Avner won’t bear fruit unless we cross-pollinate with another avocado (April? Angelina?), or graft a piece from a fruit-bearing plant. We’ll continue to buy our guacamole fixings from the local grocery store, and enjoy Avner’s greenery when we’re out on the patio this summer.

So tell me, friends in warmer climates, can you grow and harvest avocados in your yards, or is that a myth?

Click over to this post on my Giveaways page to see if you’re one of the three lucky winners!