Tag Archives:from the library
1
NovOn Your Marks, Get Set… Bake!
Or as the Brits say, “bike.” And we’re not talking cycling. I just finished drooling over the first four seasons of the Great British Baking Show, for the second time, and can’t wait for Season 5. My latest TV addiction, GBBS, is thoroughly entertaining without being treacly. Judges Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood preside over brigades of British bakers who go “dough to dough” over the course of ten weeks to try to bring home the blue ribbon. Once I tuned in, it was love at first bite. In an enormous white tent set in the English countryside, 12 amateur bakers chosen from thousands compete in three weekly challenges- the signature bake, the technical, and the showstopper. With one unlucky soul voted off each week, it’s like Survivor but with spatulas.
Delightfully quirky hosts Mel and Sue provide comic relief in the form of corny culinary and occasionally off-color quips. They take turns having “the happy privilege of announcing this week’s star baker” to the apron-clad contestants nervously awaiting their fate. When Mary and Paul determine the person “to whom we must sadly say goodbye,” there’s an outpouring of hugs, tears, and promises to stay in touch. It’s all very British and genteel- until it’s not. (More on “Bingate” later.)
Not only do the bakers come to feel like family after we see clips of them with their loved ones and colleagues at home and at work, but watching them create sweet and savory delicacies from scratch is the icing on the cake. If you’re counting carbs this may not be the show for you, but if you have a pinch of self-control it’s a great way to indulge your cravings vicariously. It can also be pure torture. While the competitors labor to produce the perfect Black Forest gateau or quintessentially British Bakewell tart, I press pause and scour my kitchen for something- anything- sweet.
Handsome blue-eyed Paul Hollywood, dubbed the Queen of Mean by Mel, can reduce a baker to tears with the words, “that’s a mess,” or simply, “it’s a shame,” while grandmotherly Mary Berry almost always finds something positive to say. After tasting one of lovely Ugne’s Lithuanian cottage cheese cookies, Paul looked her in the eye and declared, “I don’t like it.” As she struggled to hide her disappointment, he admitted, “I love it.” Mary’s harshest critique, meanwhile, may have been, “it’s a bit under baked, and the raspberry is bleeding into the sponge.” She disdains a “soggy bottom,” but her pronouncement of “scrummy” is highest praise.
I can now toss around culinary gems like genoise or crème patissiere (crème pat, to those in the know). Thanks to GBBS, I’ve added a wealth of colorful British expressions to my vocabulary. Aerospace engineer and Cambridge-educated Andy, who skipped graduation to practice for the Season 4 quarter-final, was “really really chuffed” when Paul liked his marjolaine. And to console Chetna- dismayed at having received a less than stellar review- Paul said, “don’t lose your rag” over this. “Fiddly” ingredients, I found out, are particularly difficult to work with, and the bakers are forever “whacking” things into the oven, which is not nearly as violent as it sounds.
Realistically, I’ll probably never make any of the petit fours, mini pear tarts, biscotti, or Victoria sandwich cakes myself. I can whip up a “cracking” carrot cake and my apple crisp is legendary, at least among my family. But when an early attempt at baking a German Chocolate cake with my teenage daughter went horribly wrong, I hung up my measuring spoons for good. I suspect Belfast-born Iain, following the infamous Baked Alaska meltdown of Season 2, could relate.
After a rival contestant inexplicably removed his ice cream extravaganza from the freezer on a hot summer day, poor Iain, in a fit of frustration, dumped the entire mess in the bin and stormed off. He was, unfortunately, eliminated as he had nothing to show the judges. The culprit, claiming illness, never returned to the tent.
Not all episodes are so fraught with drama, and one disastrous outcome does not automatically spell dismissal. (Spoiler alert: Despite her walnut cake placing last in a technical challenge, Nadiya went on to become the Season 3 winner and a minor celebrity herself. The following year she was asked to bake the Queen’s 90th birthday cake.)
I was rooting for 17-year-old Martha from Season 1, who smiled through her tears and was so supportive of her fellow bakers that I was crushed when she was sent home. And how could you not love Richard, the rosy-cheeked builder with two adorable little girls, whose self-effacing humor made everyone laugh. I emailed my relative in South London that I was hooked on the show. She wrote back to admit, “it’s been a bit of a viewing highlight for us over the years,” adding “it sounds a bit sad.”
It seems we’re in excellent company. The Great British Bake Off, as it’s called overseas, is one of the most popular programs in the U.K.
In the comfort of your own kitchen you can recreate some classics from the first season by borrowing The Great British Bake Off: Big Book of Baking by Linda Collister. For the truly inspired, there’s The Great British Bake Off: How to Turn Everyday Bakes into Showstoppers. It’s full of mouthwatering photos and recipes for afternoon teas, bake sales, lunches with friends as well as scrummy desserts for dinner parties, birthdays, and other festive occasions. It also contains ideas for creating gorgeous garnishes using chocolate curls, spun sugar, and elegant piping to achieve that wow-factor every time.
Whether you’re Michelangelo with a mixer or more of an armchair baker like myself, I challenge you to check out any of GBBS’s five seasons on DVD and not end up binge-watching the entire series- or just plain bingeing.
April Cushing is the Adult and Information Services Supervisor at the Morrill Memorial Library in Norwood, Mass. Read April’s column in the November 1st edition of the Norwood Transcript & Bulletin.
25
OctMy Nuclear Vacation
I recently returned from the trip of a lifetime and checked one of the top items off of my “bucket list.” London? Paris? Venice? No. At long last, I traveled to the Ukraine, to Chernobyl, the site of the worst nuclear disaster in history.
In 1986, during the Cold War when the Ukraine was part of the Soviet Union, reactor number 4 at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant exploded, launching radioactive material far and wide, contaminating most of the Ukraine and neighboring Belarus, and extending throughout Europe and the USSR, and beyond. In the immediate aftermath, finger-pointing, political agendas, and secrecy delayed evacuation, exposing local residents to severe radiation. Finally, buses carried thousands of residents off, assuring them they’d come home in a few days. They never returned, and the town of Chernobyl and neighboring city of Pripyat, constructed specifically for the power plant builders and employees, became ghost towns.
The Ukraine designated an exclusion zone surrounding the entire region with barbed wire fences, checkpoints and armed guards. This forbidden territory became my dream destination. As an avid adventure traveler and “urban explorer,” ghost towns, abandoned buildings, and post-disaster locales fascinate me. For years I knew of Pripyat, a city frozen in time, full of empty schools and homes, and even an amusement park set up for a May Day celebration that never happened. I had seen photos and descriptions online and in Atlas Obscura: An Explorer’s Guide to the World’s Hidden Wonders, as well in the horror movie Chernobyl Diaries (which turns out to have surprising accuracy, until the part when zombies appear).
I had to see this place with my own eyes. We arrived in Kiev, a delightful city, and spent several days sightseeing and eating well, with the help of Lonely Planet: Ukraine. Then met our small group of adventurers and headed two hours north to Chernobyl. Tourists may visit only with authorized guides, many signatures on liability waivers, and instructions on how to dress, behave, and use a Geiger counter. Most visitors spend a day in the exclusion zone, but we opted for the two day tour, including a sleepover in a no-frills Chernobyl hotel.
Although entering buildings is “technically” forbidden, we explored the shells of schools with kids’ books covering the floors in rooms of overturned desks, with occasional stuffed animals or children’s shoes peeking out of the rubble. We walked through abandoned gymnasiums with parquet floors caving in, dark office buildings interrupted mid-workday, and people’s homes with heartbreaking glimpses of how they lived before fleeing in a hurry. The iconic amusement park rose out of the forest, the Ferris wheel rusted but still standing, and bumper cars poised to smash although they haven’t moved for decades.
Our tour took us inside the shell of a defunct cooling tower, to the “red forest,” where Geiger counters beeped non-stop, along the top secret Soviet Duga radar, and finally up close to reactor 4 itself. For years this proximity would have caused radiation sickness, but in September 2017 construction and placement of a new “sarcophagus” was completed, covering the destroyed reactor and its inferior original enclosure, assuring confinement of the radiation for at least 100 years. A fascinating new documentary, Building Chernobyl’s Megatomb goes into detail on this project.
The explosion occurred when I was young, so I only knew the basics about Chernobyl until reading Serhii Plokhii’s timely book, Chernobyl: The History of a Nuclear Catastrophe. This 2018 definitive history delves into the origins and construction of the power plant, a nearly minute to minute account of the night of the explosion itself, and the local and global impact of what occurred. Plokhii introduces major players in the event, from laborers to politicians, humanizing them as he describes personalities and motivations, often incorporating their own words. Plokhii’s history extends through the collapse of the USSR up to the current day. I visited Chernobyl well-informed.
Do not avoid coming to the library because of the radioactive librarian! In fact, entering the exclusion zone for a limited time exposes people to little more harm than x-rays and air travel. Geiger counters alerted us of “hot spots” – certain areas or items with dangerous radiation levels: the cloth part of a discarded gas mask, the “claw” of a piece of heavy machinery that reached into the reactor in attempts to pull out its graphite rods, an industrial refrigerator beside a crate of empty milk bottles.
Believe it or not, some returned to Chernobyl after the evacuation, and a handful still live in the exclusion zone. Like residents unwilling to heed evacuation warnings due to hurricanes and fires, these individuals knew no other “home,” and would rather die in Chernobyl than live as refugees in Kiev or elsewhere. A film available to watch for free on Kanopy, The Babushkas of Chernobyl, profiles several of these residents, all elderly women, and we had the opportunity to meet one in person. Victoria lives with her dog Dana, who entertained us by singing when someone played the accordion. She served snacks and vodka and surmised that her husband died because he did not drink vodka.
Deaths from nuclear fallout prove difficult to measure. Radiation sickness does not kill instantaneously, but after days, weeks or years depending on exposure. Cancer rates and birth defects skyrocket and researchers cannot always parse out which would have occurred anyway versus which were brought on or accelerated by radiation. The babushkas somehow survive and live off the land in Chernobyl. For me, it was an incredible place to visit… but I wouldn’t want to live there.
Lydia Sampson is the Technical Services Dept. Head at the Morrill Memorial Library in Norwood, MA. Look for her column in the October 25, 2018 edition of the Norwood Transcript.
18
OctYou Are NOT Getting Sleepy…
I am a librarian, and like many in my profession I am innately curious. If you are in the business of ferreting out information, being naturally curious comes in handy. When I’m not at the library putting my curiosity to work for others, I like to learn about learning and behavior – or why we do what we do, and how we can do things better. As such, I am an avid watcher of TED talks, those treasure troves of “ideas worth spreading,” and the related TEDx events organized in communities around the globe.
This summer I viewed one such talk delivered by Kristin Rivas called “The life-changing power of words.” Several years after her sister died in a car accident, she suddenly developed pseudo-seizures and other disturbing symptoms. She was eventually diagnosed by the Mayo Clinic with post-traumatic stress disorder, major depressive disorder and conversion disorder. Her doctors believed she was suffering from traumatic grief, which her body was converting into psychosomatic symptoms. They recommended drugs and intensive psychiatric care, but weren’t optimistic about the prognosis. The Mayo Clinic also recommended one last alternative: hypnotherapy. Desperate, she made an appointment with a specialist in trauma resolution therapy. During one two-hour session she learned that her mind was confusing memory with reality, and sending signals to address a perceived situation. She was then offered a different way of perceiving her sister’s death. The impact of the session was immediate and lasting; she was well. Inspired by her story, I viewed several other TEDx talks on hypnosis. I also recommend Danna Pycher’s talk, “Healing illness with the subconscious mind.”
Shortly after my TEDx marathon, I learned the library would be hosting a four-part series on “Hypnosis and Healing” to explore using the power of the mind to promote motivation, success and well-being. Curious (as ever), I signed up. In our first session, we were given an overview of hypnosis, which is simply a heightened state of concentration in which people are more receptive to suggestion. The person being treated is guided, using imagery and repetition, into a relaxed state, but is still aware. In fact, people go into hypnotic states on their own throughout the day, such as when we are driving somewhere and somehow end up at our destination without recollecting how we got there. This makes the term hypnosis – from “hypnos,” the Greek word for sleep – one of the bigger misnomers out there. Unfortunately for me, a combination of the dark room, soothing voice and sleep deprivation caused me to sleep through two of the four sessions. I listened wistfully to the stories of my fellow workshop attendees as they reported feeling more motivated and energetic. I was so disappointed to have squandered my chance to experience the benefits of hypnosis that I ratted myself out during the question-and-answer period one night to ask our presenter if she had any tips for not falling asleep. She noted that if we had been in an individual session, she would have done something like alter the volume of her voice if she’d noticed me slipping off, but that working in a group didn’t allow for that.
After one of the sessions in which I was snoozing while others made positive transformations, I decided to see what the library had to offer on the subject of hypnosis. I picked up an informative read called The Inner Source: Exploring Hypnosis with Dr. Herbert Spiegel by Donald Connery, which examines the practice of hypnosis and the career of one of its chief proponents. Dr. Spiegel was a newly minted psychiatrist who had learned hypnosis during his residency when he was sent overseas to serve as a battalion surgeon. The power of hypnosis was revealed to him through his work with soldiers grappling with combat stress. After leaving the service, Dr. Spiegel continued to explore hypnosis in private practice, and went on to teach a course in clinical hypnosis at Columbia University for over twenty years. In Dr. Spiegel’s opinion, all hypnosis is self-hypnosis; a hypnotist merely guides people to tap a natural ability to alter their perception and influence their reactions. He recognized that some people are more suggestible than others, and used different strategies to compensate for this.
Hypnosis has been used for everything from behavior modification (quitting smoking, losing weight, and releasing phobias) to coping with post-traumatic stress disorder and pain management on par with anesthesia. So my main wonderment is this: if hypnosis is so useful, why is it viewed as a last resort? If a quick, easy and side-effect-free method to improve our heath is available, why not add it to the mix? I suspect that the checkered past of the practice, from stage hypnotists to unscrupulous charlatans, prevents people from taking it seriously, but the cynical side of me also wonders if our healthcare system isn’t to blame. There is, after all, no money to be made from people who can make themselves well.
My own research into hypnosis continues. There are numerous resources out there for those who’d like to learn more. Our network owns The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Hypnosis, which offers an overview of the subject as well several appendices of additional resources. Self-Hypnosis for Dummies is similar, and available as an eBook. Other audio and digital resources abound for help with specific concerns such as insomnia, weight-loss, etc. For those who wish to consult a professional, a searchable database of licensed healthcare workers providing hypnotherapy is available through the American Society of Clinical Hypnosis at https://www.asch.net/.
Kirstie David is a Literacy and Outreach Librarian at the Morrill Memorial Library in Norwood, MA. Look for her article in the October 18, 2018 edition of the Norwood Transcript.
12
OctMake it Sous Vide!
Believe it or not, I’m sometimes afraid of new technology. My ex-husband worked for one of Microsoft’s competitors in the late 1970s and 1980s and his company created one of the first word processing programs for the PC. Yet, in the early 1990s I still insisted on writing my graduate school papers on a word-processing typewriter. Because we had several computers in the house, my inability to embrace the PC drove him crazy – among a zillion other things, of course!
It’s not that I am distrustful of technology – I’ve actually been an early-adopter of many gadgets and devices – but I must fully understand them first. I hate reading boring instruction manuals and that often trips me up. I’m a hands-on learner and my confidence level often has wild rides of highs and lows when learning how to use a new appliance or gadget.
That said, once I am a firm-believer, I drive everyone a bit looney when I insist on singing, and re-singing, the praises of each of my new gadgets and appliances. Gerry and I bore our friends with wondrous tales of inventions like the steam cleaner, vacuum sealer, spiralizer, espresso maker and milk frother.
This is especially true in the kitchen where I spend much of my time on the weekends. In my early marriage years, I heartily adopted the Cuisinart food processor, the KitchenAid stand mixer, and the automatic bread and pasta machines. Sometimes these machines hum in the kitchen for weeks, and other times they lie silent for months or years. Still some are part of my everyday repertoire.
My eldest daughter is an amazing, adventurous cook. Mostly due to her driven spirit, but also because she is severely allergic to nuts and seeds, she makes everything from scratch, including roasting her own coffee beans. Due to her infectious enthusiasm (the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree), I love to watch her use her newest equipment, sometimes adopting it into my own life.
That’s where the sous vide comes in.
Several years ago, she pronounced her love of her new sous vide on her Facebook page. I was, apparently, living in the dark ages because I had no idea what a sous vide was. I don’t usually watch any cooking shows (binge-watching the Great British Baking Show was an exception), so I researched this exotic tool myself. I asked her to bring her sous vide equipment to our home several years ago and we had the most amazing lamb rib chops that I’ve ever tasted at dinner that night.
Soon after I received my own sous vide stick from Gerry for my 65th birthday. (One of the things I love about my husband is his constant and hearty support of my whimsies and interests.)
Yet, that is where my fears sometimes bring my enthusiasm to a halt. It seemed to me that there were so many complications to cooking with the sous vide. I read several books and agonized over additional tools and equipment. It’s important to eliminate heat loss, and vacuum-sealed packets must not touch each other. I ordered numerous exotic accessories, and then promptly packed all of it in my appliance closet until my courage overcame my anxiety.
It was there that the sous vide sat – until this past weekend when my determination took hold and I decided to experiment in the way I learn best – hands-on and under pressure. I planned a dinner for neighbors and committed to an uncomplicated menu of center-cut beef shanks and butter-poached baby potatoes.
Sous-vide is a French term for “under vacuum.” Simply put, you cook food that is vacuum-sealed in a plastic pouch in a water bath for a long time at a perfect low temperature. With the sous vide technique, the food cooks evenly throughout. It doesn’t overcook or undercook, as long as you know what you are doing. The moisture in the food is retained.
Little did I know, but high-end restaurants use the sous vide method for meats and shellfish all the time. That is how they serve you a perfectly-cooked chop or scallop that is quickly seared and placed on your plate.
You can use fancy tools, or not so fancy. My Anova sous vide stick is a version that actually has a Bluetooth setting, which seems a bit extravagant and foolish. This sous vide immersion circulator is firmly attached to a plastic bin filled with water, the tool is turned on and brought up to a specific temperature, the vacuum-sealed food is placed into the bin, and the food is cooked for a specific time.
This weekend’s beef shanks were vacuum-sealed with a sprig of fresh thyme, slices of onion and garlic, and a sprinkle of freshly ground salt and pepper. They were then cooked in a constant 155 degree water bath for 20 hours. Yes, 20 hours. Some sous vide techniques call for 48 hours of cooking! The beef will be removed from the water bath several hours before dinner and quickly seared in a very hot grilling pan before serving. In the interim, the vacuum-sealed baby potatoes will poach with butter and parsley at 194 degrees for two hours.
If you’d like to learn about sous vide cooking, complete with amazing recipes, there are plenty in our Minuteman Library catalog and at our library here in Norwood. If you start with some of the best cookbooks, sous vide techniques and equipment are fully explained in the first chapters. The Essential Sous Vide Cookbook by Sarah James is a great book to start with because she has lots of practical guidance and advice, including techniques on preparing food for sous vide recipes. Sous Vide at Home by Lisa Fetterman even has techniques for cooking Thanksgiving dinner! Fetterman has another book, Sous Vide Made Simple (in 60 everyday recipes.) There are several eBooks instantly available on Hoopla: The Sous Vide Kitchen by Christina Wylie and Make it Sous Vide! by Meredith Lawrence.
Of course, this week’s column was due before dinner was fully cooked, but I have complete confidence in my sous vide technique. My daughter texted me a big high-five because she is delighted that I’ve finally overcome my anxiety. My husband is finally looking forward to another delicious dinner – this time, sous vide style.
Charlotte Canelli is the Director of the Morrill Memorial Library in Norwood, Massachusetts. Read Charlotte’s column in the October 11, 2018 edition of the Norwood Transcript and Bulletin.
5
OctAudio Failure
Though I have always loved stories, I never listened to audio books growing up. It wasn’t that I disliked them, it just never occurred to me to listen to them. My parents didn’t listen to them, and although I sort of knew that there was “talk radio” out there, I thought it was something on “AM” and that they only talked about news, sports or traffic. I suppose my grandparents had listened to “stories” on the radio, but it was not something anyone ever talked about that I can remember. The only real reference I had from that era was when my mother referred to my grandparents as ‘The Bickersons,” and I had to ask her what she meant.
I loved reading books and watching television and movies. The first movie I ever saw in a theater, Snow White, was a revelation to me. I was only about three, and my parents were unsure if I was too young to bring to the theater, or if I would be scared by the witch. But I sat, wide-eyed, and absorbed every detail. When it ended, I burst into tears and was inconsolable. My parents apologized and told me the witch wasn’t real. But all I could get out was, “I…never…wanted it…to end!”
This is all to say it started young and fully formed, my love of stories. But I think I really associated stories with something visual – something I read or watched. I was never good at processing information by just listening. I have always been a terrible fidget, and the minute I am not engaged, my mind wanders. Pretty soon I am in a story in my head and not hearing whatever else is going on. For some reason, the act of reading and drawing or watching was enough, but hearing something was not.
Then I met and fell in love with my husband, a man who is a complete audiophile. And as you do when you love someone, I tried to learn about and appreciate the things he cared about. He could sit in a room or lie in bed and just listen to things for hours. I would fall asleep or lose interest in about ten minutes. Listening to music was easy. Audio books were much harder.
This was before podcasts and iPods, and having earbuds constantly in our ears was the norm. I started listening in the car. At least I could drive and not let my mind wander to the dishes I needed to do or that coat I wish I bought or where were those paints I bought four years ago? The road and a story. I could do that!
Except, at first, I couldn’t. I kept missing parts of the story. I would suddenly realize I had no idea what the reader was talking about. Man, how long had I spaced out?
I had to keep trying. It took a while, but gradually I learned a few things. First of all, some things were just not interesting in print or audio. I am never going to be interested in the business report! Likewise, a Chuck Palahniuk book I would have hated to read, I hated to hear! This may seem intuitive, but at first I was trying to make myself like audio books and failing, because I mainly hated the content. Second, the reader matters! The monotone of Malcolm Gladwell was not for me. But his ideas were interesting, and I was better suited to understand him if I read his book instead.
Fast forward about 15 years, and I am still a very visual person, and audio tends to work better for me if I am otherwise engaged. My husband can still listen to podcasts for hours, while I prefer to read.
Our son, on the other hand, is all-consuming when it comes to stories. At just five, he can’t get enough. He never tires of being read to, or watching shows and movies. And every meal break, car ride, walk, he asks the same question: “Can you tell me a story?” I am pretty good, but not ten stories a day good. He is insatiable. But I didn’t want to dampen his enthusiasm. I just needed a break. So I thought, I wonder if he could follow an audio book?
Life. Saver. For real.
Every car ride, five minutes, fifteen minutes, two hours – doesn’t matter, he wants that audio book. We started with the Magic Tree House books, which are great early chapter books. They are whimsical, but usually based on some historical or scientific facts: a journey to Egypt, escaping pirates, or exploring the tundra with Jack and Annie. At about two hours a book, they were the perfect introduction to listening to longer form stories. At first, I would pause the story every once in a while to make sure he knew what was going on, but he rarely needed help.
We are still listening to the Magic Tree House (there are a lot of them), but we recently jumped to Harry Potter. I was thrilled that he immediately fell in love with the story, and over a few weeks we finished the first book.
Audio has opened a new door to sharing stories and ideas with my son, and allowed me a new appreciation of the format. I can’t wait to hear the next story.
Nicole Guerra-Coon is the Assistant Children’s Librarian at the Morrill Memorial Library in Norwood, MA. Look for her column in the October 4, 2018 edition of the Norwood Transcript.