Beginning today, Finding Harmony Blog will feature five guest posts all week as excerpts from a just released book, Fifty Shades of Grace: Stories of Inspiration and Promise, published by Herald Press (April 17, 2013). I served as compiler/editor for the book and wrote about that process on Mennobytes blog. Today’s story is by Michelle Sinclair; her bio appears below. She also is my daughter but don’t hold that against her.
Guest post by Michelle Sinclair
Grace on Venomous Mountain
Cold mountaintop wind roared in my ears. The path through the snow had vanished, along with visibility beyond forty feet. I had no map, no compass, and no idea where the two-thousand foot cliffs I was supposed to be avoiding were lurking.
My sister Doreen had gone to Scotland for her study abroad experience and I went to visit her on her spring break. We thought it would be cool to hike Ben Nevis, the 4,409-foot highest peak in the British Isles. We figured it would be a bit of a trek, but we enjoy hiking, and Scotland’s not Nepal, right?
Without doing any real research, I learned Ben Nevis is the most popular Munro—the elite club of Scottish peaks higher than 3,000 feet—and attracts a wide variety of goers. One website claims the round trip takes five hours for experienced “Munro baggers.” (A “Munro” is any summit in Scotland that’s over is a summit over 3,000 feet, or 914.4 meters.) That’s about eight hours for the rest of us.
Our solution? Leave early in the morning and take our time. I read somewhere that it could be dangerous, but so long as we stuck to the trail, I figured we’d survive. That was supposed to be a figure of speech.
We checked into a hikers’ hostel in the nearby town of Fort William, where a staff member took one look at us and handed us a Ben Nevis survival pamphlet. We barely skimmed it, figuring this was just one of those overly cautious things they had to do to avoid being sued. But this was Scotland, not the U.S., and even though you don’t need oxygen tanks or belaying experience to reach the summit, its seeming mild nature and the cliffs on three sides are what make the Beinn Nibheis, or “Venomous Mountain,” so dangerous.
On a brisk April morning, we set out at 8 a.m. in jeans, tennis shoes (her), and cheap hiking boots (me). We enjoyed the scenery and the gradual climb. Grazing sheep probably laughed at our huffing and puffing. Other hikers all seemed to have maps and serious mountain gear, and as we ascended higher, we began to have doubts. Very few trees dotted the scrubby brown landscape—an enormous change from the lush Appalachians I knew from home. Above our heads, the overcast sky hid the peak from view.
After a lunch of sandwiches, we had one banana left and less than a bottle of water. We entered the cloud, and as the valley below vanished, our world narrowed to an unstable path of rocks winding around the mountainside. To our surprise, we started seeing patches of snow. It went from being a novelty to a nuisance to an expanse of white with nothing to mark the trail but a row of footprints. At that point, the safe, smart choice would have been to turn back, but we had been hiking for four hours and I wanted my view. We pressed on.
Until the footprints scattered—and with them, our path. Black rocks dotted the precipitous slope ahead. In the distance, gray fog and snow merged. Those cliffs had to be nearby. Some people with spiked trekking poles climbed straight up the steep hillside, while others walked to the right. But which was the safest route for two inexperienced hikers in jeans and tennis shoes?
Our careless pride had gotten us in this situation, but it certainly wasn’t going to get us out of it. I tucked my proverbial tail between my legs and asked a friendly caravan of Irish hikers which way we should go. These angels in insulated pants didn’t just point the way—they shared their trekking poles and welcomed us into their group. Of course they went straight up the incline, so with the help of the poles, we jammed our toes into the crusty surface and kept up the best we could.
The sharp wind drowned our voices. Bits of sky flashed through the wisps of clouds.
Then my heart beat hard as a low stone structure emerged through the distant fog. The summit! We’d made it!
Our mouths hanging open, we raced across the snow, fumbling in our coat pockets for our cameras. The cloud rushed overhead, unfurling the vista in maddeningly brief glimpses. We laughed with our heads tilted back, drinking in the day’s first blue sky until—at last—the fog cleared the summit and completely rolled away. Thanks to our saviors of the day, we were granted grace to make it to the top.
I don’t regret hiking Ben Nevis, but I do regret treating it like a Sunday afternoon hike. With the wealth of information at our fingertips, we had no excuse for going into an unfamiliar situation without doing proper research. Never again will I assume that warnings are just lawsuit avoidance and that I—in all my lofty self-reliance—can handle anything on my own.
But I’ll still get out there, to see God’s creation in all its varied splendor, because for the rest of my life I will see those majestic glens and ridges of Scotland laid bare before my eyes. I will remember the feeling that followed, when the field of white poured across the sky below the peak, leaving me uncovered, higher than the clouds, higher than the other mountaintops jutting through the mist. Forget Everest or McKinley—I was on top of the world. And I was newly thankful for the grace to survive a hike by the unprepared.
BIO: Michelle D. Sinclair is an account executive in the advertising department of The Washington Post and attends Northern Virginia Mennonite Church. She also writes monthly movie reviews for Third Way Café’s (website) Media Matters, as well as guest columns for the Another Way newspaper column. In her spare time, she enjoys writing young adult novels, spending time with her husband Brian, and playing with their cat, Josie.
More stories like this: This story and 49 more like it can be found in the new book, Fifty Shades of Grace: Stories of Inspiration and Promise. It is easy reading and inspirational—a great Mother’s day gift or for birthdays, anniversaries, personal devotional, or a book to share with a friend or relative. A 30 percent discount is available until May 1, making the book just $9.09 plus shipping. You can also watch a trailer for the book here and find a news release here.
I received an email the other day that did a mother/author’s heart much good.
“Just wanted to let you know that your book came in handy last night,” wrote my youngest daughter. “I went to eat what I had left of a French baguette roll (bought Friday) and it was rock hard. Not surprising. So I thought the best way to save it would be to make a French toast casserole out of it and I used the Christmas morning recipe [from Whatever Happened to Dinner: Recipes and Reflections for Family Mealtime.]
“I didn’t have enough bread for a whole 9 x13 pan full so I basically halved the recipe and made a pie size dish of it. It soaked overnight and while the oven re-hardened the bread on top [as it baked] it was nice and soft on the bottom and at least edible and pretty darn good flavor-wise if I do say so myself. Instead of chopped pecans I was at the bottom of a walnut bag anyway and used all of those crumbs up! Good way to ‘clean out the fridge.’ Nothing went to waste and now I have leftovers for the next two mornings!”
I was very proud of Doreen’s improvisation and thrifty desire to not waste food, especially on a graduate student’s limited budget.
Here’s the original recipe as shared by Jodi Nisly Hertzler, just as good in April for a Saturday morning breakfast, but that you need to prepare the night before. Hence my usual “Saturday Bake Something” post on Friday. Or halve the recipe like Doreen did.
Doreen in her element–as a grad student studying urban ecology.
P.S. The first time Doreen made this for us at home we purchased the challah (traditional Jewish) bread to use in the recipe, which Jodi mentions in the recipe instructions below. It is a slightly sweeter bread made with eggs which goes well with the French toast idea. But French bread is usually cheaper and easier to find.
And P. P. S. S., the Whatever Happened to Dinner book is on sale for 30 percent off until May 8, in time for Mother’s day. See bottom of recipe.
Christmas Morning French Toast
Jodi Nisly Hertzler
This dish is a specialty of a bed and breakfast that my husband and I visited when we lived in Oregon. We returned the following year, and I requested the same dish—it was that good. Rich and decadent, it’s perfect for a holiday brunch. Even better, it’s deceptively simple, and all the preparation is done the evening before, so all you have to do is pop it in the oven the next morning. I strongly recommend using challah in this dish, if you can find it. Option: Leave out the nuts and fruit for a simpler dish—that’s how it was originally served to me.
1 stick (½ cup) unsalted butter
1 cup / 250 ml packed brown sugar
2 tablespoons corn syrup
1 cup / 250 ml pecans, chopped fairly fine
½ cup / 125 ml dried cranberries
½ large Granny Smith apple, diced
1 loaf French bread, challah, baguette, or round country-style bread
5 large eggs
1½ cup / 375 ml half-and-half
2 teaspoons vanilla
¼ teaspoon salt
In a small, heavy saucepan, melt butter with brown sugar and corn syrup over moderate heat, stirring until smooth. Add the nuts, cranberries, and apples, and stir to coat. Pour into a 9×13 baking dish.
Cut ½-inch thick slices of bread and arrange them in one layer in the baking dish, squeezing them slightly to fit. (Alternatively, divide everything into 6 separate ramekins—small ceramic or glass serving bowls—and bake individual servings.)
In a bowl, whisk together the eggs, half-and-half, vanilla, and salt until well combined, and pour evenly over the bread. Refrigerate at least 8 hours and up to one day.
Preheat oven to 350° F/ 180° C and bring bread to room temperature. Bake uncovered, in middle of oven until puffed and edges are golden, 35–40 minutes. Makes 6–8 servings.
From Whatever Happened to Dinner: Recipes and Reflections for Family Mealtime, Herald Press, 2010.
Beginning April 22, Finding Harmony Blog will feature five guest posts as excerpts from a new book, Fifty Shades of Grace: Stories of Inspiration and Promise, published by Herald Press (April 17, 2013), for which I served as managing editor. I wrote about that process on the Mennobytes blog in February.
There is a woman in our town who many of us have spoken of, that we see her walking, always walking, like she’s going somewhere and not just meandering. The curious thing is that she carries a small bag or two (not a big bag like a bag woman) and always one of those Mexican blankets kind of thrown over her arm. She appears to be a fairly middle class woman with a pleasant look on her face like she is just walking somewhere and enjoys it. She must walk miles every day. Maybe she is walking too and from work. Maybe just for exercise. Maybe like Forrest Gump.
She passed our office again the other day and I grabbed my camera before she got completely out of sight. I’m glad my picture is a little fuzzy and from the back, because no one could every positively identify her from it. I didn’t ask permission to “take” this woman’s photo. I once heard marvelous photographer Howard Zehr talk about his philosophy and approach to photographing people and how he always (I think he used that word) gets permission or else it is truly “taking” something from that person to steal their image. He talks about the need to build community with our image taking. I hope I am trying to do that here–and not just be nosy.
Most small towns have certain people who make the rounds and cause our curiosity meters to zoom. Who is this woman, does she have a job, a home?
Maybe someone local will fill me in. Maybe sometime when I am out walking I’ll cross paths with her and be able to ask her my burning questions that are maybe no one’s business but her own. Or is she our business? Should I care?
Given the events in Boston this week, I’m reminded that we are all on this planet together and other people’s business is our business. If we see abandoned packages, we’re supposed to call numbers in subways. If we see strange people doing strange things, we’re supposed to speak up.
I’m sure this woman is just a normal woman who enjoys walking and saving gas (maybe people wonder about me walking on my lunch hour frequently). Can anyone enlighten me? Us? Do you care about such things? Should I take my nosy journalism nose and write about something else?
Are there persons you wonder about in your town?
My husband says he could eat chicken five days a week, but I like variety and hunt for new ways to fix it. Is there any more versatile meat available to us? I think he would be happy to just rotate between fried, roasted, and barbecued, but I love it in chicken salad, soup (I have a great Brunswick Stew recipe I’ll share sometime), white chili that my son-in-law introduced to us, tacos, burritos, enchiladas, fajitas, chicken alfredo, a chicken/cheese/broccoli casserole, paella (with more chicken than seafood in it for my tastes), curry, chicken & rice endless variations, … shall I go on?
Huffpost says we in North America (technically they said “America” but perhaps it is true north of the border too?) “buy chicken more than any other food” and that has only increased as fewer of us eat as much red meat.
I confess I’m not as versatile or experienced of cook as I’d like to be (happens when you try to keep harmony in a family who would sooner eat the same old stuff than branch out very much) so when I saw, in the spice aisle, a “Recipe Inspirations” gimmick with pre-measured spices and recipe card for Chicken Marsala I thought it was actually an Indian dish, a variation of a curry. (Obviously didn’t check the ingredients too thoroughly: no curry, and the Marsala, I learned comes from the Italian wine you add (I used an Italian cooking wine.)
But it was delish just the same and you probably have all of the ingredients in your cupboard already, except maybe the Marsala, and yes, you can substitute any other cooking wine (or sherry I suppose) but as one picky person online pointed out, then it isn’t really chicken Marsala. But, I’m a substituter so, who really cares about that? When you live eight miles from town, you make do. But if you haven’t gotten your groceries yet, you may want to try this for a fairly quick and easy Saturday night or Sunday dinner. Monday is good too! I’ve added some variations from the card.
Oh. The husband? He pronounced it “not bad.” That’s a score.
What is your favorite way (or newest favorite) to make chicken?
Chicken Marsala (adapted from McCormick Recipe Inspirations card) Prep time 10 minutes; cook time about 20 minutes.
Ingredients
1/3 c. flour
1 tsp. salt
6 thinly sliced boneless skinless chicken breasts (I took tenders and cross sliced them to about 3/8 inch thick)
3 tb. butter, divided
2 tb. olive oil
2 or 3 large sliced mushrooms
½ c. chicken broth
¾ cup Marsala cooking wine
1 tsp. minced garlic (or one clove minced and sautéed)
1 tsp. marjoram leaves
1 tsp. minced onions
½ tsp. black pepper
2 tsp. basil
3/4 tsp. parsley flakes (fresh or dried, optional)
- Mix flour, marjoram, minced (dry) onions, salt and pepper in shallow dish. Keep 1 tb. of the flour mixture back for later. Coat chicken with remaining flour mixture.
- Heat 2 tb. of the butter and oil in large nonstick skillet on medium high heat. Sauté minced garlic. Cook chicken pieces about 4-5 minutes per side or until golden brown. Remove from skillet. Keep warm. Add mushrooms to skillet; brown and stir 5 minutes until tender.
- Mix broth and reserved flour mixture in small shaker (the sauce ends up being pretty thin; if you like it thicker, add more flour). Add to skillet, stir; also add wine. Bring to boil, stir so that brown bits of floury chicken coating are mixed in, like you’re making gravy. Stir in remaining 1 tbsp butter and basil. Cook 2 minutes or until sauce is slightly thickened. Spoon sauce over chicken to serve. Sprinkle with parsley if desired.
Slice breast pieces very thin to cook faster.
Dredge chicken pieces through flour and spice mixture.
Saute 5-6 minutes on each side or until golden brown.
Remove chicken or move to one side and saute mushrooms.
Add flour and broth mixture you have shaken, and bring to a boil.
Enjoy: rice or pasta make a nice side, missing here! We actually had leftover fried potatoes with it.
Reblogged from Mennobytes.com blog 4/13/2013
I will never forget the comment of my “little sister” as we were browsing the aisles of the religious bookstore at the mall one day back in the late ’70s. As I write this now, I’m thinking, wow, I can remember when we had two great religious bookstores in town, including one at the mall.
Barbara was a quiet girl from a low income home and I enjoyed knowing her through our city’s fledgling Big Brother/Big Sister program at the time. So her comment in the bookstore was all that more unusual. She asked, looking at the Bibles in the store, “You mean they sell Bibles?” I assured her yes, but probed a bit and learned the basis of her question was some disillusionment with the idea that someone was making money selling God’s word. Her assumption also came from the fact that she had received one free from the Salvation Army. But I had to wonder if she somehow sensed it felt a little crass.
So I had the same feeling recently looking at our MennoMedia sales report that frequently puts Martyrs Mirror in our “Top Ten” in sales. Part of my paycheck at this point in life comes from the blood and suffering of my theological ancestors. Interestingly, the Old Order Amish are the biggest purchasers of Martyrs Mirror.
- Copies of Martyrs Mirror on the shelves in MennoMedia’s warehouse.
At MennoMedia, we are grateful for those who purchase this grand old (and deeply moving) text and also those who purchase our Bibles (we sell some created by other publishers), and also all those who purchase cookbooks, (which some customers might consider frivolous or a waste of our time and resources, or maybe reinforcing impressions that to be Mennonite you need to eat or cook certain foods!), hymnals, children’s books, curriculum for all ages, magazines, DVDs, CDs, downloadable video clips, and more.
- Amy Gingerich, Editorial Director at MennoMedia is all smiles upon receiving the just published Mennonite Girls Can Cook Celebrations.
The newest Herald Press cookbook, Mennonite Girls Can Cook Celebrations, is now in the warehouse and we are obviously excited and pulling out all the stops to help sell this book. Early photos of the book on Facebook got at least one comment along the lines of “well good, now you can get back to providing more meaty content” (not exact quote, and I believe it has been removed).
An unapologetic strength of MennoMedia is in the area of “food and faith” and this book fits with that, especially the celebrative aspect. MennoMedia and Herald Press publish many crucial books on theology, Mennonite history, biography and church curricula. These are resources that are essential to keeping any faith group alive and well. But even cookbooks or the authors, convey practical theology.
While not every author or group of authors can do this, the women behind the popular blog and cookbook phenomenon known as “Mennonite Girls” are providing an outstanding example of Christian stewardship, sharing and service by donating all royalties to Mennonite Central Committee projects (so far in two locations, Russia for their first book, see photo, and Africa for this new release).
- A functioning greenhouse helps provide food for the 40 children from Good Shepherd Shelter (orphanage) as well as children from poor families in the surrounding area near Makeevka, Ukraine.
While the cooking and underlying message of the two Mennonite Girls Can Cook books so far are a little different than More with Less, or Simply in Season, the MennoMedia umbrella is wide enough to embrace a variety of cooks, authors, churches, communities and peoples. The original and continuing subtitle for More with Less: Suggestions by Mennonites on How to Eat Better and Consume Less of the World’s Limited Food Resources gives a hint at the theology it supports. As the “Who are the Mennonites” video/DVD (see short clip) says of the legacy of More with Less cookbook, “The ideas in this cookbook went well beyond the kitchen. Sure, thousands of us learned simple recipes, nutrition, and stir frying from its pages, but it also summarized our theology and conviction.”
A wide umbrella at MennoMedia. We look forward to the day when, who knows, there is a Mennonite Truck Food cookbook or Mennonite Soul Food cookbook or … name your poison! But I personally will quit when we come out with a Mennonite Happy Hour Cocktail guide.
P.S. Not to be crass, but if you are frugal, you may want to take advantage of the 30 % off sale on all Mennonite cookbooks including pre-ordering this newest Mennonite Girls Can Cook Celebrations until May 8. Thanks!
The first check I ever received for writing happened in high school. I got a check for $10. That was a lot of money in those days, as old people say. I was used to getting paid a penny a flat for gathering eggs. I was hooked.
It was the late 60s and our denominational magazine for Mennonite youth, WITH, had a writing contest and I submitted a poem and it was published. Here it is (the creative layout was the designer’s idea, not mine).
(Blow up the photo to read the text)
The editor of WITH at that time was Richard Kauffman, who went on to edit a series of Mennonite magazines and ended up as book review and senior editor at Christian Century. So I “knew” him back when. He keeps a very active Facebook feed which I enjoy and where we occasionally interact.
And my husband and I still have cats as you can see by my collection of cat photos. In fact, the “editor on my shoulder” is my boy Riley (all white Himalayan), who loves to watch me compose blogs and respond to manuscripts sitting on top of the printer in my home office.
Cats still cause me to ponder life, and their ways and our ways. I wonder if any magazine editor today would give my cat poem a second look. As an editor myself, we keep a blanket policy of never publishing poetry, to save ourselves from looking at “drivel,” as my creative writing teacher, Omar Eby, used to sniff about bad poetry.
That policy is kind of snobbish, I admit, but after trying unsuccessfully to market a collection of poetry (from other writers) called Heart to Heart Poetry Album II (because Mennonite Broadcasts, Inc., the name of my employer then, had first published Heart To Heart Poetry Album which sold tens of thousands of copies), we eventually dropped the project deciding that there was no longer a market for that kind of poetry. I sometimes think that too many readers have been put off too many times by hard-to-understand poetry, or turned off by overly sentimental and poorly rhyming stuff that is real in emotion but not polished in verse.
My own attempts at writing poetry came to a halt when I realized the same sentiments expressed in poetry could often be turned into prose and more people would read it (and buy it). I once illustrated this at a reading I gave to a poetry/writing group (with a lot of wanna be authors) in which I emphasized, perhaps not too astutely, that they may be able to find a market for their poetry by rewriting it as prose. I illustrated this by reading from my first book, On Troublesome Creek, which was built on journal entries written during a year of Voluntary Service in Kentucky; many of my journal entries were written in the typical style of a 19-year-old wanna be writer: quasi-poetry.
A page from my original Kentucky journal of “quasi” poetry, side by side with a comparable page in my first book, published by Herald Press.
This of course was heresy to a true poet, and there were a few really good writers/poets in that group. Juanita informed me it was a good thing I’d forsaken poetry because my “poetry” was better as prose.
Stung but not demoralized, I have not made a serious attempt at poetry since. And I forgave her when Juanita became a member of my church and I learned she was always outspoken about things.
***
If you are a fellow writer, what was your first time (being published)? Do you enjoy poetry? Do you buy it?
My heart, my mother’s heart, goes out to the Rick Warren family who son died by suicide last week. That people could even think of posting heartless and cruel judgments on blogs, Facebook pages, etc. is despicable. With a 27-year-old daughter myself, the pain would be unthinkable at any age. We weep with the Warrens and pray healing and consolation in due time.
For Christians who still haven’t wrapped their heads around the major cause of suicide being mental illness, I can only hope more people will be educated and wake up to that reality. My own education came about through work on the Fierce Goodbye documentary by Mennonite Media several years ago; the documentary aired as recently as this past December on ABC-TV prompting, again, callers in much the same shoes as the Warrens.
I went back and found “production notes” from when our team worked on this ground breaking program. I don’t think that’s hyperbole, because for many of us on the team and many viewers, it was the first time we really came to grips with up-to-date thelogical positions on suicide and getting past the stigma that many still associate with suicide. At the time, not a little unharmony was unleashed when mental illness advocacy groups at first protested the Fierce Goodbye program to Hallmark Channel (who aired it first) fearing it would continue misguided or outdated views on suicide. We did some more editing; in its final edit, the documentary still conveys the Orthodox church’s position on suicide, but offers more pastoral and enlightened views from other religious denominations. That’s what documentaries are for, to present a variety of viewpoints.
For those of us who had the oportunity to interview and learn from families who have endured this pain, the education was long-lasting and helpful as we’ve lived through our own encounters of loss and grief among family and friends. I pray that will happen for the Warrens as well, and their official email release on the topic is a witness to their long journey with the mental illness of their son.
For a trailer, see here, or for more information on this Mennonite-produced documentary, check here.![fred_and_gail[1]](https://findingharmonyblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/fred_and_gail1.jpg)
Fred and Gail Fox, one of the families in the documentary from our local community, continue to make themselves available to help other families dealing with the grief of suicide.
Like many Mennonite* girls who got married in the 70s, one of my favorite wedding presents was More with Less Cookbook. We got married the year it was first published, 1976, when it quickly became a kind of cult classic, on its way to best seller status.
Valerie Weaver-Zercher says the way you can find your favorite recipe in any book (or recipe box for that matter) is look for the page(s) that have the most stains or grease marks on them.
So it’s not hard to find my family’s all time favorite bread recipe in More With Less, oatmeal bread. I look for the messiest page.
(Valerie just published The Thrill of the Chaste: The Allure of Amish Romance Novels and is currently compiling a new version of one of the follow-up cookbooks in the Herald Press World Community Cookbook series, Extending the Table.)
I began baking this oatmeal bread when the children were all small; eventually my youngest daughter Doreen took over the bread baking to the point where the adaption I included in my book, Whatever Happened to Dinner: Recipes and Reflection for Family Mealtime is called “Doreen’s Oatmeal Bread.” We added a whole packet of yeast to the original recipe and some flour, but of course the genius of the bread comes straight from the heart of More with Less with its wonderful combination of three grains or forms of flour: oats, whole wheat flour, and regular flour. And hands down, Doreen forms a much nicer loaf than I can manage, so that’s why she earned the moniker on the recipe (and I’m sorry she didn’t form the loaves for this pictorial!)
Even if you’ve never baked bread, this is a fairly easy recipe and I’ll let the recipe and pictures tell the rest of the story.
Doreen’s Oatmeal Bread (adapted from More with Less Cookbook). This version appears in Whatever Happened to Dinner (see special offer below)
Combine in large bowl:
1 cup / 250 ml quick oats
½ cup / 125 ml whole wheat flour
½ cup / 125 ml brown sugar
1 tablespoon salt
2 tablespoons butter or margarine
Pour 2 cups / 500 ml boiling water over mixture in bowl.
Separately dissolve:
2 packages dry yeast in
½ cup / 125 ml warm water
When batter is cooled to lukewarm, add the yeast mixture to the batter. Then, gradually, stir in 5½ cups / 1.4 L ml white flour (you’ll probably add another ½ cup / 125 ml in kneading).
When dough is stiff, turn onto a floured board and knead by hand 5–10 minutes.
Place dough in greased bowl, cover, and let rise until doubled, below. Takes a good hour. (I find that putting it on my stove top, under the hood light which creates a little heat, is usually a nice warm place.)
Punch down and let rise again, about one hour.
When done rising, punch down, divide dough into two lumps, and shape each one into a loaf. This is how we do it. (And if you want, save a small wad of dough like we do to make a tiny loaf for tasting!)
Turn over the lump you have shaped so that the smooth side is up. (See loaves below) Place in greased 9x5x3-inch pans. Let rise again, about 30 minutes. The baby loaf is what we always set aside for early samples from the oven!
Bake at 350° F/ 180° C for 25–30 minutes. Brush baked loaves with butter or margarine for a soft crust. Allow to cool.
Suggestion: For a little added nutrition, you can substitute some or all whole wheat flour for the white flour. If you substitute more than half, the bread will have a denser texture, and you may need less flour, but the result is still tasty.
Slice and enjoy. My first taste, spread with real butter, is just bliss.
If you own the More with Less Cookbook, when and how did you get your first copy??? I’d love to hear. Comment below.
***
Sale. From now until May 8, 2013, all Herald Press cookbooks, including mine and More with Less Cookbook, are on sale for 30 % off. Stock up for wedding gifts and showers! And to take a sneak peek inside the new Mennonite Girls Can Cook Celebrations Cookbook, check it out on Amazon.
Special recipe-by-email offer: Become one of my “adopted children”: When my daughters want to use a recipe from Whatever Happened to Dinner but find it hard to make the book stay open to the recipe, they ask me to email them the recipe (from the electronic files I have) which they can then print out or bring up on a smart phone/notebook. If you purchase (or already have) a copy of Whatever Happen to Dinner, I will be happy to email you any recipe from my book. Just be in touch. If you comment below or sign up to receive blog posts, I’ll have your email.
***
*Footnote about my faith roots: I was Mennonite at the time, married a Lutheran, and we eventually joined a house church based congregation, Trinity Presbyterian, founded on the principles of Church of the Savior in Washington, D.C., whose beloved founder, Gordon Cosby, recently died.
How do you decide how many children to have? Many families settle on two, some leave it at one, and we—well I’ll be honest. We really were going for a boy so after having two daughters, we went for the third child.
And ended up with three daughters. Three sisters. It’s a marvelous number, although there are times when I wouldn’t have minded having four. But when there are three, it always makes life more interesting.
My father and mother likewise had three girls, and tried one more time and got their boy. Dad always said it was because he started eating sunflower seeds that he finally got a boy. Did not work for us.
But growing up with two other playmates of your own gender is not a bad way to grow up. A boy and a girl are supposed to be the perfect family configuration but you take the cards you are dealt, right? And if today we had any other configuration: 2 boys, 1 girl; 2 girls, 1 boy; three boys; two girls, one boy; one girl—yada yada yada, I would be writing about what a nice family configuration it turned out to be.
They were and are good girls—now young adult women—and they too treasure their childhood. They recall many hours of creative, inventive play, where they made up their own games and play acting.
Who needs kites on a windy day when you can just use plastic grocery bags? Or scramble higher than the boys climbing trees at church?
But the story that inspired this post is this 1988 picture of the kids diving into one of those fast food ball pits after hurriedly chowing down a burger and fries.
A few years after this photo, when the oldest had grown too tall to actually get into the pit (she was probably barely getting by in this picture), the youngest one was getting bullied by another kid in the pit—lightly pummeled with balls, that kind of thing. We were inside the restaurant and didn’t really see what was going on. But Michelle was standing by and did see. She sauntered over, unfolding her long lean body straight and tall, probably all five feet of her young self. The bully boy stammered upon seeing Big Sister standing by: “uh … er … I didn’t know you had a sister THAT big!” And that was the end of that small annoyance.
I loved it then and love it still.
Top: They had to try out new the new toy/book shelves. Middle: Three fit nicely in the new Christmas wagon. Bottom: And even making dorky tourist photos is more fun with three.
Of course they had their fights, their jealousies, their annoyances. All three rode the same bus, #51, only one year to their elementary school. Bottom: Leaning in to hurricane force gales near Kitty Hawk, NC.
Hanging Christmas stockings is more fun with three. T-shirts found at the Shipshe Flea Market. All grown up at middle sister’s wedding, 2011. Wedding photo courtesy of Richard Davis. (Note how many of my photos have the daughters in the same oldest, middle, youngest sequence.)
So what’s the best size of family and gender mix? I’m glad we didn’t have the chance to choose gender. It’s nice to leave that in All Knowing hands, to Whom we are most grateful.
***
Did you know the gender of your kids before they were born? Would you want to know? Why or why not?
Also check out one family’s extensive photo collection of four daughters and how they recreated dozens of childhood photos as adults.
I once started a wonderful novel. My novelist-daughter-in-search-of-a-publisher kept telling me, “Why don’t you write books people want to read?” To her that means fiction instead of nonfiction. (And if you check her blog, she’s been too busy writing and revising novels in progress that she hasn’t posted in awhile.)
A few of the nonfiction books I’ve written.
I did research, wrote an engaging first chapter (I thought), a fairly decent outline, completed parts of numerous chapters, an ending, a suspense-raising title, a satisfying one sentence summary.
Here was my opening for a story about a wife impulsively leaving her husband and disappearing:
“The thought of just driving off without him was so unthinkable, so bizarre at first, that she really was only bluffing when she put the car in reverse and backed it up. Maybe he would see her back-up lights come on and get the message her patience had once again run out.”
I even received an initial letter of interest from a publisher. Notice I said “letter.” The old fashioned stamp-in-the-corner kind. Deliciously waiting in your mailbox. Heart-racing excitement with the potential for Jubilant Joy or Utter Dejection all rolled into one.
Today we get emails. I told my office buddies recently that I enjoy shutting down my email box for an hour or two in order to have focused work time because then you get to open it back up and see everything that cascades in and you never know when there is going to be Really Good News pouring in.
Mostly not, but you never know … the same way that there used to be potential for an Important Piece of Mail from a Publisher or Editor mixed in with all your junk mail.
But the “letter” referenced above should give you a clue that I started the novel in another era. Then I put it on the back burner while pursuing other projects and eventually I realized my plot was entirely totally implausible because of one thing.
The ubiquitous omnipresent cell phone that everyone everywhere has on them all the time. Rendering the rest of my story as unmarketable as a rotary phone. Unless you completely rethought and rewrote the entire plot (which you do A LOT when you write a novel) and then I’m not even sure it would have been possible for me.
This of course is not a new issue. 8-track and cassette tape references being a well known example.
But this is just the tip of the iceberg and there’s a whole lot more I would need to learn about novel writing than a strong opening paragraph.
Moral, if you have a wonderful idea for a book or story that feels like 2013, don’t wait until 2014 to get it done. Or do like my daughter, set your stories in an era of your own choosing, a world of you own creation. Or write something historical.
The same mantra relates though to any writing for publication. I get many submissions to Living that have been published before (and no, we don’t use any fiction). Knowing a piece has been previously published always speaks to an editor (seriously): Wowsie, if five magazines already thought this was good enough to publish, perhaps I should give it serious consideration. However, if the publication dates are 1975, 1988, 1991 … it is most likely going to feel stale unless it’s been given a severe update.
Of course there’s help galore out there for novel writing, now more than ever, if I ever decide to get around to it.
Probably the only thing out of my novel that will ever be published is the opening paragraph in my own blog. Impressive. The End.
Will she ever keyboard the great American novel? Shelves of some of my favorite books.
If you are a writer, do you have a novel-in-progress? Have you ever run into an unfix-able deadend?
findingharmonyblog 