Here, Have Some Pie

Pumpkin, this time.  All of ours is gone; and so is the cherry pie.  Some of the apple still remains, but not for long.

The weather here is unseasonably cold; the outside thermometer is reading 3 degrees Fahrenheit.  Normally we don’t get weather like that until mid-December or later.  Local opinion is that we’re going to have a cold winter; the question remaining is whether or not it’s going to be a snowy one.   Snowy is good, because snowmobiling and cross-country skiing are a big part of the local economy, such as it is, and a winter with substandard amounts of snow is the equivalent of  major crop failure.

But pie makes all things good.

Pumpkin Pie

  • 1 unbaked pastry shell
  • 1 can pie-pumpkin
  • 3 eggs, slightly beaten
  • 1 cup light brown sugar
  • 1 tsp cinnamon
  • 1/4 tsp ground cloves
  • 1/4 tsp nutmeg
  • 1/4 tsp ginger
  • 1 and 1/2 cups canned evaporated milk (One 12-oz can.  Not sweetened condensed milk; not evaporated skimmed milk.)

Place the pie shell in your pie plate.

Mix the spices well with the brown sugar.  This breaks up the lumps in the brown sugar and keeps the spices from clumping together when you add the liquid.

Combine the eggs with the sugar and spices; beat well.

Add the canned pumpkin.

Add the milk and beat well.

Pour into the pastry shell.  (Actually, the way we do it around here is to add the filling to the shell a ladle-full at a time.  Better control that way, especially if it turns out you’ve got more filling than shell.  We use our largest pie plate for this recipe.)

Cook at 350 Fahrenheit for 45-55 minutes.  (Test it after 45, and give it another 10 minutes if it isn’t done yet.)

When a knife inserted into the filling comes out clean, the pie is done.

Enjoy.

The kind that says “Ingredients: pumpkin.” Anything else is pumpkin filling, and an abomination before the Lord.

Family Feasts and Rituals

We’re gearing up for Thanksgiving dinner already — tonight is pie production, because Thanksgiving dinner is nothing if not a pie delivery system.  This year we’re only doing three pies (cherry, apple, and pumpkin) because there are only going to be four of us at the table.  Come Christmas, when all three of the unmarried offspring will be temporarily in residence, we will be doing at least four pies (the current loadout, plus blueberry, and quite possibly some kind of chocolate cream pie as an extra.)

One of the things that a lot of science fiction and secondary-world fantasy often lacks, in my opinion, is this kind of tradition-laden family gathering.  Partly it’s because the protagonists of science-fictional and fantastic stories are so often loners, either by circumstance or by choice — they’re orphans, or they’re wanderers of one sort or another, or they’re estranged from whatever relatives they’ve got.  (Which is a pity, I think; nothing complicates life, or a plot, like family.)  But partly, I suspect, it’s because making up plausible and consistent holidays and family rituals that are convincingly alien but nevertheless feel like the real thing . . . is hard work.

(This is also where I like to give a nod to one of my favorite fictional Thanksgivings, the season four episode “Pangs” of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  It has everything, from the manic freakouts over getting the traditional recipes exactly right, to a look at some of the more problematic historical and cultural issues surrounding the holiday, culminating in a shared meal where everybody — even the captive vampire tied to a chair — is entitled to a seat at the table.)

More Internet Fun Stuff: Adopt a Skull

The Mütter Museum in Philadelphia has a skull collection, and they’re working on restoring and remounting them.  And they’re looking for sponsors! For only $200/year, you can contribute to the work on a particular skull, and have your name on a plaque next to it.

What does this have to do with writing?  Not much, except that most of the writers I know are fascinated by the weird, the unusual, and the specialized esoteric, and the Mütter Museum qualifies on all counts.  I note on their web page that they’re now partnered with the University of Pennsylvania’s Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology, which is an institution I remember with great fondness — I wandered in there one day shortly after arriving in Philadelphia for graduate school, took a random left turn, and walked straight into a room full of artifacts from ancient Sumer that I’d hitherto only seen in a Time-Life history book.

“Wow,” I said to myself, or words to that effect.  “I’d never have seen this if I’d stayed in Texas.”

Fun and Games with Software

Or, today I upgraded from Windows 8.0 to Windows 8.1, which was just as much fun as it ever is.  In the process, I’ve learned that everything is an app now, and not just the small handy things that come from the app store . . . when they say “you’ll have to reinstall your apps,” they’re talking about everything.

Fortunately, I had backups.  I did have one moment of near-panic when I couldn’t find my installation files for Quicken 4.  The newer versions of the program use a different file format than the older ones, probably because the nice people (and I use the term loosely) at Intuit want their users to keep buying new versions of their software, instead of sticking with the one that’s been doing just fine for a decade or so now, and I wouldn’t even mind it so much if there were a conversion utility or something like that available — but there isn’t.  You need, so far as I can figure out, to convert your Quicken 4 files into Quicken 6 files in order to convert the Quicken 6 files into the latest format.

Fortunately, I found the files.  And my backup Quicken data files are on a separate drive.  So that’s all right.

And I’d like to take this opportunity to plug MozBackup, a freeware utility for backing up Firefox and Thunderbird. It has saved me a great deal of sorrow and tears.

Now This is Neat

A Roman-era sculpture of an eagle with a serpent in its beak has been found at a development site in the City of London.

I think if I lived in England I’d be afraid to so much as plant geraniums in my back garden for fear of turning up pieces of history in the process.

Vulture, Vulture, Who’s Got the Vulture?

It’s a well-known fact (around this household, anyhow) that certain plot lines are going to require a sacrificial victim in order to play out in satisfactory fashion.  The question that then arises is, of course, “Which character is the one who’s going to perish for the greater thematic good?”  Or, as we like to put it, “Who’s got the vulture sitting on his — or her — shoulder?”

Some vulture-bearing characters are so easily recognized as to be clichés.  If the book is a heartwarming memoir about a boy and his dog, for example, the dog is going to die at the end.  (Unless the author is Harlan Ellison, in which case all bets are off.)  This is because boy-and-dog memoirs are all about growing up and learning important life lessons, such as that all dogs will eventually die.

Then you get the tired old cop/secret agent/career criminal who’s just one shift/mission/heist away from retirement.  Don’t sell that guy life insurance, especially if he’s got a hotshot rookie partner.  On the other hand, if the new partner is young and idealistic and has a brand new wife and/or kid, there’s a good chance the vulture may shift over to him instead — especially if he brings out the family pictures.

Two guys in love with the same girl?  One of them has a date with a vulture instead.  If the plot machine gets really warmed up, the two guys may end up on a double-date with a pair of matching vultures — which is hard on the girl back home, but this kind of plot doesn’t usually pay much attention to which, if either, of the guys she might actually prefer.  (And it definitely doesn’t allow for a no-vultures-needed three-way.)

In general, if you’re a main character and you’re a guy, your plot-related vultures tend to be about dying for a noble cause, or for a girl, or at least in the line of duty.  But if you’re a female main character, and have been assigned a vulture by the plot, your options aren’t nearly as attractive.  You get to be betrayed and abandoned by the man all your friends tried to warn you about; or you get to expire gracefully of one of those Victorian ailments that killed off characters like Mimi in La Boheme and Beth March in Little Women; or you get to walk down the wrong street on a dark night to the accompaniment of ominous music on the sound track, and meet an unpleasant and bloodstained end.

A well-done vulture, on the other hand, is one that’s so skillfully foreshadowed that the reader doesn’t notice its presence until the character’s fate has played itself out, at which point everybody realizes that the vulture was there all along.

For some reason, memoirs about girls and their dogs are considerably thinner on the ground, possibly because teaching important life lessons is supposed to be a manly — or at any rate proto-manly — thing.

An Offering of Pie

Last week was hectic and full of distractions, and this week is shaping up to be more of the same.  As an apology for erratic posting in days past and possible erratic posting in days to come, I bring a recipe for cherry pie.

(This also celebrates the reappearance of proper canned cherries in the local supermarket.  For most of last year they were hard to find up here; I eventually Googled “cherry shortage” and after some poking around learned that the late snowstorms back in 2012 had killed off a lot of that season’s cherry crop.)

Cherry Pie

  • 2 cans of tart cherries (we’re talking actual canned cherries here, and not “cherry pie filling”, which is a horrible sickly-sweet sticky glop and an abomination before the Lord.)
  • 6 T sugar
  • 2 T cornstarch
  • 1/8 t salt
  • 1 T butter, cut up into little pieces
  • a scattering of fine tapioca
  • unbaked pie crust

Put the unbaked pie crust into a pie pan.  Sprinkle the bottom of the pan with fine tapioca; this will help keep the crust from getting soggy.

Drain cherries; reserve juice.  Place cherries in unbaked pie shell.

Mix sugar and cornstarch and salt.  Put on top of cherries. Pour in cherry juice.

Dot with butter.

Put on top crust.  Or streusel.

Bake in 475 oven for 12 minutes; reduce heat to 425 and bake for 45 minutes longer.

Streusel

1/4 cup butter
2 T sugar
1 T cinnamon
1 cup flour

Cream butter; add sugar and cinnamon mixture alternately with flour.  Blend until crumbly. Sprinkle over top of pie.

Zucchini, Redux

As a follow-up to yesterday’s post, here’s the zucchini bread recipe:

Zucchini Bread

Ingredients

  •         3 cups flour
  •         1 teaspoon cinnamon
  •         1 teaspoon salt
  •         1 teaspoon baking soda
  •         1/4 teaspoon baking powder
  •         3 eggs
  •         1 cup brown sugar
  •         1 cup white sugar
  •         1 cup vegetable oil
  •         1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  •         1/2 cup sour cream
  •         2 cups zucchini
    (This is one of those recipes that having a food processor with a shredding blade makes oh so much easier; otherwise, you and your grater are going to become very good friends.)
  •         1 cup raisins

Directions

  •     Preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
  •     Grease and flour 2 bread loaf pans.  (Or take the easy way out and spray them with Baker’s Joy cooking spray.  It’s what we do around here.)
  •     Sift together the flour, cinnamon, salt, baking soda, and baking powder.
  •     In a separate bowl combine the eggs, brown sugar, white sugar, and oil.
  •     Add the dry ingredients slowly to the egg mixture.  It’s going to be fairly stiff by the time you’re done.
  •     When everything is thoroughly mixed, add the sour cream and the vanilla.
  •     Finally, mix in the shredded zucchini and the raisins.
  •     Pour the batter into the two loaf pans.  (They say, “pour” all the time in these recipes, but using a ladle and transferring the batter a ladle-full at a time makes the process easier to control, and helps you keep the amount of batter evenly distributed between the two pans.)
  •     Bake at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for about 1 hour and 20 minutes.
  •     Test with a toothpick or a skewer; if it comes out clean, the loaves are done.
  •     Let them cool on a wire rack in their pans for a few minutes, then turn them out onto the rack to finish cooling.
  •     Have a slice, warm, with butter, if you want to. (Just to check for quality control, you understand.)

So there you are — zucchini bread.  If you’re looking for story ideas, or for recipes for Zucchini Lasagna or Zucchini Pickles, you’re on your own.

The Turning Seasons

Only a few days ago, it seems, I was complaining about the sultry summer weather.

Last night, we had a frost warning, and there are already spots of color on the maple tree in the front yard.  And in about a month, it’ll be time for us to head south to Martha’s Vineyard and the Viable Paradise workshop.

If you didn’t apply this year, don’t worry . . . next year’s applications open on the first of January 2014.

More from the Department of Nifty Stuff

As an addendum to my post the other day on outlines and cover letters, there’s this (from romance novelist Linda Conrad via Terri-Lynne DeFino): a handy-dandy basic two-sentence “elevator pitch” generator:

(TITLE) is a (GENRE) about (Heroine/Hero), a (backstory/identity) who, after (inner conflict) wants (goal). But when (turning point) happens, he/she has to (external goal), which seems impossible because (external conflict).

Looked at in skeletal form, it resembles nothing so much as MadLibs For Authors, but it works.