The Secret, Book & Scone Society by Ellery Adams

Cook the Books blog this time is Ellery Adams’ The Secret, Book & Scone Society.  Simona (from briciole) is hosting.  Go  here for the announcement 

I am in no sense of the word a picky eater. But I am a picky reader. Too picky perhaps. Like a toddler surveying a new food placed before her by an anxious mother, I approach each new book with a skeptical eye. Turning to the first page of the story I hear my toddler voice saying, “I’m not going to like this.” Or I hear echoes of the teenager “This is going to be boring.” Even the mature reader-me makes her voice known “Educate me,” she says, “Or, at least entertain me,” and watch out for plot holes, and too many coincidences, and threads that don’t make sense, and parts of the book that make me yell out loud “Didn’t you have an editor?” Or, “How did this book ever get published.” And so it was with this book right from the get go. 

To be honest, though, I did approach the book with an open mind. I’d been an inconsistent lurker on Cook the Books blog for a couple of years. Bought and read several of the suggested books, even concocted a few recipes per CTB instructions. Checked out the posts and blogs by CTB participants, But never got around to posting. Oh, I had all the very good excuses. My blog Is dormant. Should I revive it? Or start a new blog? (I have a food specific name all set to go.) I’m awfully busy writing an organization’s newsletter, chairing a Woman’s Suffrage 100-year celebration, writing a cookbook memoir, researching, writing … Oh, you know, all those things that take a writer away from the page—and for a food writer, away from the food. 

Finally, though, a window of opportunity. And this book looked like an easy read. A cozy mystery wouldn’t be my choice but I could get through it. So, as soon as the book was announced I sent for it and decided that ] I could finish, test a few recipes, check out all the what-to and how-to requirements, and post my offering by deadline.

The book had an interesting premise. Scarred and somewhat reclusive Nora, the protagonist, owns a bookstore. Not only that but she has an interesting intuitive gift that allows her to pick the exactly right book for her customers or even to suggest/give/sell a book to those who aren’t her customers. And she has a supporting character friend who owns a bakery and that friend can make “comfort scones” that reach down into the inner psyche of the scone-eater. Two other characters,  June and Estella,  join Nora and Hester to try to solve a homicide and the now amateur detectives form The Secret, Book, & Scone Society. Now, that all sounds like it would make for a good read, but here’s the rub. It doesn’t.

A sampling of some of the things that took me out of the book

Just too many problems with the writing. For example. 

Violating the writer’s rule: Show don’t tell. (At 38). “[Nora] held her hands in a defensive gesture.” What was that? How did an editor let that go by? Or does it not matter? Is it just “get the book to market, someone will buy it”?

Lack of continuity. (At 36) “If you want lemonade or water, help yourself to a coffee mug from the back.” Then (At 39) in the same scene, “Hester poured three glasses of lemonade and offered one to Estella. Estella stared at her glass ….” This might not even have caught my attention except that the hanging rack of coffee mugs had its own descriptive scene and the mugs seem as though they will be relevant. Something like this says to me as a reader: “don’t expect a story where details matter.” Another example is (At 170) where “A plastic grocery bag hung from [ Jed’s] wrist and (At 171) in the same scene that plastic bag seems to have disappeared because “[ Jed] pulled a plastic grocery bag from his pocket and approached the berry bushes.”

Dropping names of books and authors randomly. The mention of books and authors seemed a cute concept, but it soon became clear that the names were often just thrown in just because the names would be familiar to the reader. Take this scene (At 145) where June ,Nora, and Hester are describing the kind of men women want  

June: “We want a man who’s a mixed up mess of Othello, Heathcliff, Atticus Finch, Chief Inspector John Luther, and a Greek god or two.”

Hester: “Don’t forget Sherlock Holmes, Edward Rochester, and Horatio Hornblower….I like my Brits.”

Nora: “What? No James Bond?” …

“Hester shook her head. ‘He doesn’t treat women like a gentleman should.’”

 “What?” I literally, oops, I mean figuratively, jumped into the pages of the book to confront the characters and the author. Hester may be right about her opinion of Bond, but not including Bond because he doesn’t treat women well while it’s ok to include Othello who murdered his wife and Edward Rochester who locked his first wife in the attic and pretty much spends the rest of his appearances in the book lying—at least by omission— to Jane and attempting to commit bigamy shows the problem of dropping names. And if you are a picky reader, you’ll get to that conversation and from that point just keep pushing the scenes around your plate until the book is over.

…

So, to put it mildly, I thought the book was mostly a waste of time—not that it bothers me that much, wasting time during Covid-19, I’ve watched my share of Brit make-over-your-house tv and too much news and too many hours on the NYT Sunday crossword. But I expect more from books. Or do I? Is what I really mean to say this: How does so much get past an agent, past the publisher, on the market with bad writing, bad editing. I know the answer. And It’s perhaps not fair for me to give this book such a complete going over. It’s only a cozy for Pete’s sake and shouldn’t be subject to such criticism, and enough people like it to make it salable. Heck, I even bought it. But after—way too much—poring over every word, every comma, it does make me wonder how a writer gets work published.  Or is this Just a reaction from a green-eyed monster?.

As for that ending and denouement

As for the ending, well, I won’t give it away so no need for Spoiler alerts—oh, maybe a little caution. Who done it? —Who done it comes more or less out of the blue. The reader can likely figure it out but only because by the time the villain is about to be unmasked there are only a few, likely suspects, and one, considering the genre, is unlikely. The stated motivation of the villain doesn’t really rise from the story, and there is little indication within the story that his motivation has any validity. That’s as far as I’ll go here..

And the denouement. Ok, I’ll give the author that, it’s all designed to get the reader to buy the next book, but, really, reader, you know exactly what’s going to happen. 

One thing in the book that reached me

To end the review part of this post on a positive note, one thread in the book had promise. Every one of the members of the Secret, Book, & Scone Society had a secret. Could they trust each other enough to tell their secrets? What would finally be each character’s motivation and when would they feel confident enough to trust? And what would happen when they did trust? I’ll leave that for readers to discover. 

A deep dive for scones

The book did send me off on a deep dive for Scones. I’ll write more in future posts and include recipes. I like scones but had never made them. So, since I am partly of Scots-Irish heritage I first asked my sister if we had any authentic scone recipe passed down from generations ago in the highlands or over there in Antrim. We didn’t. So, I went to my next best resource, the Internet & then, books.

I soon found that “The definitive Scone,” well, that’s as much a myth as the definitive pasta e fagioli. Even the pronunciation varies. Is it scone that rhymes with stone? Or scone that rhymes with gone? “What is the authentic scone recipe?” raises the same questions as I found on the Italian-heritage side of my family while searching for the real pasta e fagioli or pasta Fasole or pasta fazool.

I decided not to make a choice but to make three different scones. More to come. 

•  * Plain scone in the—lol, authentic—round shape; shown here with jam and whipped cream

  

    * Lemon cream scone from The Village Baker’s Wife: this was before I realized scones should be separated before baking. According to the authors, “This goes even better with Lemon Curd.” I’m saving that for another day. 

• * Jocelyn’s Orange-current scone from Morning Food which author Margaret Fox says “never left the menu” when Margaret had her former restaurant, Cafe Beaujolais 

Flagstaff Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe, I mean Amtrak, Depot

A railroad depot might not be your first thought when considering towns along old Route 66. It's not a first thought modern travelers generally have. But once roads replaced wagon trails and the west began to attract new pioneers and curious sojourners, it was the trains that brought them. 'Course for many people in this country when auto travel became the norm, and later, flying, travel by train became less desirable. Lots of the early train stations and western depots were modernized or torn down. Luckily, though, some were preserved because they were repurposed and put to other uses. Some were just left but by some miracle not to rot. Many of these restored depots are now town and tourist treasures. They are repositories for local history and railroad artifacts, places for artists and craftspeople to display and sell their works, outlets for tourist schlock, and even railroad stations.

Flagstaff's old Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe—there's no "the" in the name of the railroad company but the old song fills my brain whenever I say the phrase, so I added the word for pure pleasure. Anyway—AT&F depot that stands next to Route 66 in Flagstaff is the third train depot. The first—a wooden structure burnt. That's a fate you hear mentioned along any historical route. Old depots: burnt. Old state capitols: burnt. Old hospitals: burnt. This structure houses an Amtrak station, a visitor center, a place where Native American artists can come to sell their jewelry and other art, gift shops for local museums, and the Lowell Observatory—Flagstaff is an International Dark Sky City.

Flagstaff's old depot is still an Amtrak station

I was lucky enough to be wandering around outside in the depot when a long train roared through. That's not a rare occurrence, though. Long freight trains pass through the town frequently—a sign warns motorists and pedestrians that trains do not sound their horns. But still it was a sight and I was glad to be on the platform at the time. Sort of reminiscent of my own old—although, not exactly pioneer—days, sitting on a big Samsonite suitcase surrounded by eager travelers including soldiers and sailors newly home from the war. Big dark wooden carts labeled "Railway Express" piled high with baggage in the background, and the oily smell of the station. Soon the seven-year old me would be put on the train along with little sister and hear Mother's admonishment to the conductor to "Be sure they get off in Newark." Then just to be doubly sure, she'd turn to any kindly looking one of those soldiers or sailors and say "Will you watch them and be sure they get off when they are supposed to?" But I digress.

Flagstaff—the Pine Cone and a hot cup of coffee

New York City may have it's famous New Year ball drop, and Vincennes, Indiana may drop a watermelon but in Flagstaff, Arizona revelers celebrate with the Great Pine Cone Drop. Not to be outdone by the cities to the east with similar annual observances, Flagstaff, according to the Arizona Sun, drops the Pine Cone from the historic Weatherford Hotel twice: at 10 "for families and those enjoying the celebrations on the east coast" and later, at midnight.

Flagstaff has certainly changed since 1960. Lots of shopping, art and music and theater, coffee shops with an international flair. In line at Macy's for coffee one morning, no one near me was speaking English. I felt as if I were in Prague or Rome surrounded as I was by visitors from other countries. Macy's has good coffee. House coffee is drinkable—and I don't mean that as a backhand compliment. I'm sort of a snob about coffee. I don't like it bitter nor so weak that you can see through it when it's being poured. It's an art to make good coffee that doesn't have to be enhanced by adding sugar or flavors, cream or foam to be palatable. It's a simple pleasure to warm your hands around a hot mug and then to drink something that actually tastes good. Macy's is that. Oh, and here's a tip I heard from a local. If you want a House coffee "to go," bring your own mug.

Before Christmas the Pine Cone countdown was underway

The Weatherford Hotel

A closer look

Road Trip

Starting off 2014 in the middle of a road trip from California to Indiana. I never can take one of these trips, or even cross from California to Nevada for that matter, without thinking of our intrepid pioneers. How did they ever bring themselves to cross the country in covered wagons, leaving people and most things behind or losing them along the way, things like pianos and rocking chairs—and grandmothers? It was too hot, too cold, too dangerous, too rough, and most of all too long of a trip.

First cross-country trip I ever made was in 1960 in a brand-new VW Bug. That was before the Interstate highway system was built, before the country became so homogenized that nothing new appeared around the bend. So, going to the South from New England meant a different eating experience. "Bottomless" cups of coffee were the norm. An order of breakfast of bacon and eggs meant not only b&e but also, hash browns, toast, stewed apples, and—if luck was with you—grits. A bottle of Dr. Pepper in Texas provided a jolt of—well—pepper. Eating lightly before reaching Amarillo rewarded the hungry traveler's appetite with the best steak along the way.

It's totally different now. 'Course you can find good eating everywhere if you look, or have recommendations from Foodie friends. But, along the beaten track, it's pretty much the same thing. Lots of burgers that those 1960 steak lovers might not identify as burgers. Lots of the same food everywhere at eating establishments that all look the same. Restrooms are better, though, I try to remember that before I wax too far into nostalgia.

The Steins Collect

The Steins Collect: Matisse, Picasso, and the Parisian Avant Garde is the title of an exhibit running through September 6 at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. The Steins of the title refer to  Gertrude Stein, her brothers Leo and Michael, and Michael's wife, Sarah. It's an apt title because the Steins certainly did collect—Renoir, Toulouse-Lautrec, Cezanne, Gris, and more, but mostly Picasso and Matisse.

It was actually Gertrude Stein's brother Michael and his wife Sarah who championed and patronized Matisse. His Woman with a Hat, the icon for this exhibit, doesn't seem outrageous to today's museum-goer. The bold colors, the use of non natural, including green, for parts of the face of Madame Matisse (the model) recalls Toulouse-Lautrec and his paintings at the Moulin Rouge. So it may be somewhat of a surprise to us that Matisse's painting might cause an outrage. Luckily, Michael and Sarah weren't outraged. The exhibit includes several small, unfamiliar Matisse paintings and sketches that probably wouldn't be considered masterpieces in their own right, but because they are by Matisse, they are valued. It also includes masterpieces like Girl with Green Eyes, and intimate paintings like the two portraits of Michael and Sarah. These two were the only double portraits Matisse ever painted.

Gertrude's favorite was Picasso. She and her brother Leo even had a falling out over her continued support of the painter—and maybe because of some sibling rivalry as well. Picasso is well-represented in this exhibit, from his painting of Gertrude to his Jeune Garçon au Cheval to his African Mask-influenced Head of a Woman and paintings from his Blue Period to Cubism.

The paintings—and sculpture—would be worth seeing in their own right. In this setting they tell a story of the beginnings of what we now know as modern art. But, just as compelling is the story of the creative Gertrude and her fascinating siblings—and sibling-in-law. It's worth seeing, and if you can't make it to San Francisco or its next stops, Paris or New York, go online and check it out. The exhibit is appropriate for all ages (except for the youngest or easily bored) children. What child doesn't relate to Picasso?

There were three generations in our party when we visited the exhibit. The youngest, age 10, had a sketch book and colored pencils with her. About a quarter of the way through she sat in a corner and started drawing. I thought she'd be inspired by all the colors of Matisse. Instead she moved when the adults in the party did but continued to sketch in the manner of Picasso, garnering comments from the guards and patrons alike, all encouraging her to "keep sketching" or "you go girl."

The exhibit is larger than one might imagine and takes more time to see it all. It's worth remembering that most of these paintings were exhibited on the walls in a private home. Here they are spread out in a brightly lit museum, most of them at eye level. Over time in Paris, the paintings hung from floor to ceiling. Especially in the early days, the rooms were dimly lit. Alice B. Toklas describes the poet Apollinaire—because he was the tallest—climbing a ladder and holding a lantern up in front of a painting so the visitors could see. It must have been quite a place to be—Paris at the birth of modern art. And in some way, this exhibit tells us, we'll always have Paris.

The SF MOMA exhibit is in SF until September 6. Click on the link below to the SF MOMA main page where you can find more information on events and exhibits related to this show. Scroll the page to find links to  Four Saints in Three Acts an opera by Gertrude Stein and Virgil Thompson. The opera will be presented at Yerba Buena Center from August 18 through August 21. Also check out the Contemporary Jewish Museum for Seeing Gertrude Stein: Five Stories.


SF MOMA, JCM, & Yerba Buena are all in the same neighborhood. They can be reached by BART (get off at Montgomery). If you drive, there is parking in a garage near the museum. (Turn right in the alley at the corner just past the museum.) You can also park at the 5th and Mission/Yerba Buena garage. If you think you have parking karma and you find a street parking space, be careful and check all signs. Many of the streets have TowAway zones during peak hours.

The Steins Collect

Seeing Gertrude Stein at the Contemporary Jewish Museum

Fort Collins, Gardnerville, & Genoa

Finally, after almost three months of not being able to get there, I made it to SF MOMA's Gertrude Stein exhibit. Not that the eleven weeks have been devoid of art, food, wandering, et al. I managed to make it to Fort Collins Lincoln Center opening at the formerly Mini, now Magnolia theater. PB&Jam children's theater inaugurated the new space with its production of Jungle Book. And, in a class act gesture, Lincoln Center management asked all the child actors to autograph a first-production-in-the-new-space certificate that would be kept for posterity. Way to support those budding thespians.

Right across the street is Lucile's Creole Cafe. This popular place serves up a dash of New Orleans, even Beignets. Along with the Beignets, we had Eggs Ponchartrain—trout & sauce bearnaise—and Cajun Breakfast—red beans, poached eggs, and hollandaise. Delicious.

Also managed to get to Gardnerville, NV for the annual July 4th Pops Concert in Heritage Park, and then over to Genoa for a late afternoon outdoor concert. The Genoa concert is a big event in the Douglas County-Carson Valley area and attracts musicians from all over—including some from the morning concert in Gardnerville. It attracts hundreds of listeners, too, who come for the music, a silent auction, picnicking in the country, and for the thunderous roar of shots fired from a Civil War cannon to end the 1812 Overture.

Now a historical site, Genoa started out as a trading post on the Overland Emigrant Trail, then became a Mormon settlement. One of the settlers in what was then Utah Territory was assigned to help define the border between California and Nevada—what is now South Lake Tahoe is just over the mountain. He also changed the name from Mormon Station to Genoa. Legend has it, that he named it for Genoa, Italy, the birthplace of Christopher Columbus. But, as more than one person reminded me, remember to pronounce Genoa as juh NO ah, not like the pronunciation for the Italian city.

Well, there it is, a take on the Stein exhibit will have to wait—tomorrow, maybe.

Unappetizing Food Plate

With a slew of graphic artists who no doubt could use the work, it seems the USDA could have come up with a more appetizing Food Plate.

Oh, in case you haven't heard, that's the icon that is now replacing the Food Pyramid. The Pyramid itself had undergone several changes in the past few years. It's difficult to keep up with all the new food fads and recommendations. I feel a bit sorry for those who had to come up with a new, comprehensive design. Even more sorry for those who had to decide how to represent what foods should be in the graphic and still satisfy all the stakeholders.

Still, what does the Food Plate say and how does it say it? On the positive: First, it is balanced. Second, a preschooler would be attracted to the bright colors. But, come on folks, where's the real information?

Isn't this icon a bit dumbed down? Is it because we are trying not to offend any particular food eaters, farmers, or manufacturers? Or do we just not know what to recommend?

Take a look at it. Here's the link to the USDA Choose My Plate Web site. USDA's MyPlate - Home page

More about the Plate, and food recommendations, later. Off now, to review a recent food movie release. Will pick up the Stein/Toklas thread next week, and finally get to the Magna Carta tomorrow. Been preoccupied tidying post burglary, so the Blog has been languishing on the back seat. On the road now—I hope.