T'was A Mystery Writer's Night Before Christmas...and a few past Chanukah.

 

Jeff—Saturday

It’s almost Christmas Eve! And just a few nights past Chanukah! To all of you from the many different corners of our world who so kindly follow us on MIE, the very best of the Holiday Season, no matter how you may choose to celebrate the time.  For many of us it’s all about family traditions, and as I’m blessed to be part of the MIE family I have a little tradition of my own I like to sneak in here during the holiday season.  It’s a little something I composed for my Christmas Eve post a few years back and whether or not you’d like seeing it again, it’s a tradition so we’re stuck with it…like election debates…though updated to include the new members of our MIE family. I take great pleasure in brutally fracturing the classic poem, “Twas the Night Before Christmas” by Clement Clarke Moore or Henry Livingston—history is still not sure who wrote it, so apologies to both. 

Livingston

Moor

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a laptop was stirring, nor even a mouse.
The reviews were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that new readers would soon find them there.

The critics were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of best-seller danced in my head.
And DorothyL in her wimsey, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for the hiatus nap.

When out on the Net there arose such a chatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the keyboard I flew like a flash,
Tore open the browser and dove in with a splash.

The glow on the screen cast like new-fallen snow,
A lustre of brilliance onto writing so-so.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But the sight of a blog with nine writers so dear.

With a little bold driver so quick with a thrill,
I knew in a moment he hailed from Brazil.
More rapid than eBooks their creations they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now, Kubu! now, Aimee! now, Charlie and Guy!
On, Vera! On, Justin! on, Hiro and Rei!
To the top of the Times! to the top of them all!
Now Anderson, slash away! slash away pall!”

As wry thoughts, that before the final deadline fly,
When they meet with an obstacle soar to the sky.
So off to their blog-posts these non-courtiers flew,
With a sleigh full of ploys, and opinions not few.

And then, in a twinkling, I saw not from aloof,
The prancing and gnawing of hard comments and spoof
Taking aim at some points so to bring them to ground,
Brought on by hard thinkers from near and far ‘round.

The writers were dressed from each head to each foot

In bold clothes that were tarnished with gashes well put.
A bundle of ARCs each had flung on its back,
They looked like kind peddlers bringing books to a rack.

Their eyes—how they twinkled! Their dimples how merry!
Their cheeks like Jeff Bezos’s, their noses like sherry!
One’s droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
‘Til his bottle of bourbon fell out on the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
Threw up smoke of the kind to fire scotch from the heath.
He had a broad face that would fill up the telly,
And as he reached for his bottle mumbled, “Just jelly.”

Neither chubby nor plump, more like jolly and svelte,
I laughed when I saw him, ‘til his stare I felt.
But a wink of his eye and no twist to my head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

They all spoke not a word, but went straight to their work,
And filled all the bookshelves, then turned with a jerk.
And crossing their fingers aside of their noses,

And giving great nods, passed around the Four Roses.

They kept all at play ‘til the ladies gave whistle,
Then each turned as one to read an epistle. 
And I heard them exclaim, ‘ere my charger lost might,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-fright!”

And, of course, “Happy Chanukah” and “Kala Kristouyenna.”

—Andreas Kaldis

Jeff’s Upcoming Events

My ninth Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis novel, AN AEGEAN APRIL, publishes on January 2, 2018 and here is the first stage of my book tour:

Thursday, January 4 @ 7PM

Poisoned Pen Bookstore,

Scottsdale, AZ (joint appearance with Thomas Perry)

Saturday, January 6 @ 2 PM            

Clues Unlimited

Tucson, AZ

Monday, January 8  @ 7PM

Vromans (on Colorado)

Pasadena, CA

Wednesday, January 10 @ 7PM                   

Tattered Cover (on Colfax)

Denver, CO

Saturday, January 13 @ 2 PM                      

Book Carnival 

Orange, CA

Sunday, January 14 @ 2 PM

Mysterious Galaxy

San Diego, CA

Wednesday, January 17 @ 7 PM      

Third Place Books (Lake Forest Park)

Seattle, WA

Thursday, January 18 @ 7 PM

Janet Rudolph’s Mystery Readers Literary Salon

Berkeley, CA

Sunday, January 21 @ 7 PM

Book Passage

Corte Madera, CA

Thursday, January 25 @ 7 PM

Mysterious Bookshop

New York, NY

Friday, February 2 @ 7PM

Centuries & Sleuths (Forest Park)

Chicago, IL

Saturday, February 3 @ 12 PM

Once Upon A Crime

Minneapolis, MN

Word Of The Year!

It’s word of the year time again.

                                        

 

My personal word of the year would be truckle.  I know it’s already there, out and about in the language but I don’t think it’s used enough. Cheese related vocabulary I suppose must have its limitations, but judging from the new use of the word Unicorn  ( I thought the old use was adequate but  I am not of the Zeitgeist seemingly, I am a traditionalist and think unicorns should be their natural white.)  You can take any word, give it a new and rather stupid meaning, stick it on the net and Bob’s yer lexicon.

                                            

So I am thinking of new uses for the word truckle.

In 2015  the word of the year was the singular ‘they’  used as a gender-neutral pronoun which crime writers know all about when they want to disguise the gender of A N Suspect non specific. But this is for use by non-binary gender identities…. Those that do not express their XX or XY or….

2016 the words were  'dumpster fire' which I had to look up – an  ‘exceedingly disastrous or chaotic situation’ or as we call it over here ‘the government.’

Oh satire.

Indeed, on that subject 'post-truth' was always going to be a close contender this year.  And 'fake news' as a single concept.

In the words of my hero – onmishambles  is pretty close to all that is going on, and the more disastrous clusterf***.

In Scotland we have uberpish.  Which is a stream of urine emanating from the mouth of any politician but taking the crap to a new level. And TV is starting to excel in Uberpish.

Brexit  came online in  2016, being it hard or soft and sometimes mispronounced Breakfast.

Breakfast is more palatable. Now we are thinking about Nexit ( the next to go) or Grexit ( Jeff?)

Trumpism was a  2016 word which, looking back was  used to describe  a certain style of utterance. It’s now ( in some quarters ) used in the same way as omnishambles, clusterf*** and uberpish.

                                                

                                                           Contents Of Bookcase  In Ramsay Hoose

Sharenting?  That’s the verb for sticking every smile, gurgle and bowel movement of  your small offspring on  social media. Is there an equivalent word for sharing pics of cats?  Sharfelinity?

Some sources say Google spell check recognises uberization. Mine got a red line so that’s not true.

And do not speak of Bigly.  If anything that's a place in the North of England.

Irregardless???   I think that’s uberpish.

Youthquake has been the big word of  2017, but  I am too old to be bothered by it.  I’ve never been fond of the ‘Youth Of Today’  and everybody will be the  youth of today tomorrow, or has been at some time  in the past.  Youthquake was responsible for the Tories failing to get their majority in the last election, as we all know the ‘Youth Of Today’ has never, ever been more idealistic/ lefty/revolutionary than their elders. ( That’s sarcastic uberpish BTW)

                                                         

Antifa (anti Facist movement), Broflake ( a male who gets offended by attitudes that challenge his more conventional views) and Gorpcore ( dress in clothes meant for the outdoors ?? like  we do when we go outside??) were all shortlisted for word of the year 2017.

Kompromat was on the list also but at least I have heard of that- “ discrediting or manipulating someone for political purposes. In a Machiavellian kind of way?

A milkshake Duck?  That made the shortlist too. That’s something that appears to be lovely on social media but in reality has a repellent history.  Fill  in your own examples here…. I’ll give you a moment.

And why Milkshake and why duck?  Is that the Youth Of Today again? Or more Uberpish?

Newsjacking was on the list though I thought its obvious simplicity would have ensured it was in use wayyyyyyy ( I think I'll get that on the list) before 2017.  Hijack, carjack, blackjack…..

                                        

                                                                Starbucks Unicorn Frappachino

                                                ( I don't know what that last word means.)

                                                       ( I don't want to either.)

Unicorn. Unicorn. Quote  ‘denoting something, especially an item of food or drink, that is dyed in rainbow colours, decorated with glitter’

Nope. A unicorn is a horse you don’t want to mess with never mind spraying it different colours and sprinkling it with glitter.

                                                   

White fragility is a new phrase on the block. It means the discomfort of  being in possession of white skin  when talking about  racial inequality and injustice. Maybe it’s time we all got a bit colourblind. Even the unicorns.

                                                    

Seasons greeting to you all and may all your truckles  be flavoursome!

And devoid of glitter.

Caro  22 12 2017 

For a few, the perfect gift

Stanley - Thursday

As a writer of murder mysteries and a dreamer of dastardly deeds against people whom I dislike, I’m always on the lookout for ways to kill.  And the more horrific the better.

I recently stumbled across something that meets most of my requirements: easy to find; practically irreversible; agonizingly painful; and impossible to trace.  For this, I thank the wonderful publication called Atlas Obscura, which is full of quirky information.  The article in question was written by Dan Nosowitz.

The Apiaceae family contains some of the most common and tastiest of foods, including carrots, celery, cumin, dill, fennel, parsley, anise, parsnip, and coriander.  It also contains a plant that meets my criteria above.  It is called spotted water hemlock (cicuta maculata), and grows almost everywhere in North America, typically in marshy or swampy areas.  It is present in New York City (take note, Annamaria) and the west and everywhere else, except Newfoundland.

cicuta maculata - spotted water hemlock 

spotted water hemlock flowers

It grows a few feet tall and has pretty, umbrella-shaped white flowers not unlike Queen Anne’s Lace.  Its stem and roots look a lot like wild parsnip and, when cut, has a carroty-parsley smell.

You may ask how it differs from poison hemlock – the method Socrates is reputed to have taken to end his life.  Poison hemlock provides a gentle death, with your breathing stopping and your heart stopping.  No fuss, no bother.

Poisonous hemlock

Socrates

On the other hand, death by spotted water hemlock is described in the following way by foraging expert, Steve Brill:

Every single muscle starts firing and contracting, so you have convulsions, you chew your tongue into ribbons, you vomit but then you can’t open your mouth because the jaw muscles are contracting 10 or 20 times as hard as they normally do, and you die a horrible death.

 Yummy.

In a 1941 book on Iroquois suicide rites, the following piece describes death by spotted water hemlock:

There is nothing good about the plant. Those who eat it will die in two hours. It must be a painful death. It twists the arms and ankles and turns the head back. Finally, they die in a last wretching convulsion. They say it turns the eyes back. 

Hmmm.

To quote the article I read: 

The primary toxin in the spotted water hemlock is called cicutoxin, which works on the nervous system as an incredibly potent stimulant. Humans, and other mammals, have a neurotransmitter called “gamma-aminobutyric acid,” which is usually cheerfully abbreviated to GABA. GABA is an inhibitory neurotransmitter, which means it functions basically—apologies to neuroscientists for all of this simplification—like an emergency brake on a car. It serves as a balancing force, stopping stimulants from running rampant and telling your brain to press all the buttons that control your body. Cicutoxin is a GABA antagonist; it turns off the brakes. Without that GABA emergency brake, the brain goes nuts: everything starts firing. Anyone unfortunate enough to ingest cicutoxin starts sweating, vomiting, and salivating violently. Kidney failure is common, as is an irregular heartbeat and difficulty breathing. Muscles start contracting so hard they can dislocate bones.

What is particularly appealing about spotted water hemlock is that the cicutoxin is present in all parts of the plant, with the highest concentration in the roots.  And even a very small portion can kill you.

There is a very small possibility that someone ingesting spotted water hemlock can be saved. This may happen with immediate dosing of various barbiturates and benzodiazapines, which bolster the GABA. So, if you’re going to use it, make sure these aren’t present!

What a Christmas present that would be: plum pudding a la circuta maculata.

Time to dust off my gift list.

With those cozy thoughts, I wish all my fellow bloggers and all readers a very merry holiday season, and a healthy, happy, and fulfilling New Year.

Cheers.  Clink.

Nuts to Christmas

Sujata Massey

Mixed families often double their holidays. Which means the culinary options are rather excellent.

Take Christmas.

I grew up the daughter of a German mother who still makes hundreds of beautiful cookies each year. I have learned to bake some of these cookies, but I can’t hold a candle to Mom. My father is from India, where most people don’t celebrate Christmas, and the majority of homes don’t have ovens. A typical Christmas dinner dish for us, growing up, was chicken biryani.

But I believe there is one Indian delicacy with the power to satisfy like a cookie can. This treat is crunchy, sweet, salty and as spicy as you’d like. I call it Masala Nuts.

In India, you’ll find a man on a street in any village or town or city roasting nuts in a big steel pot set over a wood fire. The roasted nuts are tossed with spices and a bit of sugar. Everything’s poured into a small paper holder and handed off to the salivating customer. 

In the West, you can visit a South Asian store and buy a factory made “hot mix” coated with heavy spices, oils and preservatives. They’re not terrible—but they’re nothing like the real masala nuts.

At Christmas, I’ve begun to make my own spiced nuts. Savory nuts are welcomed by people who don’t want as much sugar as a cookie or cake contains. Pistachios, almonds, walnuts and their near cousins are recommended anti-inflammatory foods high in good fats. They are great at cocktail parties and also used anywhere else you’d put very special nuts: a salad, oatmeal, and rice pilaf.

There are probably as many recipes for spiced nuts as there once were princely kingdoms in India. The diversity of nuts must be credited to Moghul invaders of the 15^th century, who brought their plants and culinary traditions. Nuts such as almonds, pistachios and cashews began decorating rice dishes and were incorporated into curries and sweets and even beverages. Who knows if the royal couple in this small painting I bought in Rajasthan are sharing a goblet of wine? It could also be a creamy punch with ground almonds or pistachios.

The ultimate joy of making masala nuts is they don’t take a lot of time during a busy holiday season. I can whip up seven gift-sized portions of spiced nuts in about 45 minutes if I use a microwave.

Yes, a microwave.  The genesis of my spiced nuts comes from Julie Sahni’s 1990 cookbook, Moghul Microwave. The book has 5 different recipes for candied or roasted spiced nuts. In the 25 years I’ve had the book, I’ve found one recipe that is my favorite, and I’ve tweaked it a little bit. For instance, I’m not a fan of kala namak (black salt), so I skip it in my version. This year, I threw some chia seeds into the dry spice rub. Chia seeds have no flavor, but they  have a slight crunch that reminds me of kalonji seeds-- Indian black onion seeds. And I like adding more Omega 3 fatty acids to make up for the fact there is a bit of sugar coating the nuts.

Happy holidays!

Spiced Mixed Nuts (inspired by Julie Sahni)

\

2 cups (10 ounces) shelled raw whole unsalted mixed nuts such as pistachios, unblanched almonds, cashes, peanuts, walnuts, pecans, pine-nuts. (I use 3 to 4 varieties per recipe)

1 tablespoon ground cumin (I roast the seeds before grinding, but that’s optional)

½ teaspoon ground fennel seeds

1-2 teaspoons of cayenne pepper

1 teaspoon amchur (*dry mango powder sold in Indian stores. See headnote for an easy lemon juice substitution)

¼ teaspoon chia seeds (optional)

½ cup of sugar

1-2 teaspoons kosher salt, depending on taste

1/3 cup water

*If you can’t find amchur, substitute 2 teaspoons of fresh lemon juice. Combine the lemon juice with the water, rather than the dry spice rub.

1.  Arrange nuts so they lie flat on a microwave-safe pie plate. Roast uncovered for 3 minutes 30 seconds, or until the nuss are lightly browned and puffed. You can stir them once during the process. Take out of the microwave and let them stand.

2. Mix all the spices in a small bowl and reserve this dry spice rub for later use.

3. Mix the water, sugar and optional lemon juice on a glass or ceramic pie plate or casserole dish. Cook uncovered for 2 minutes 40 seconds, stopping the microwave to stir twice. You will end up with a thick syrup.

4. Add in the nuts and continue cooking uncovered for 45 seconds to one minute, or until most of the syrup is absorbed into nuts.

5. Transfer nuts to a sieve held over a sink and drain off the excess syrup. Spread nuts onto a cookie sheet. Sprinkle spice rub a little at a time over the nuts and mix, turning and tossing, until nuts have an even coating of the masala.

6. Keep stored in an airtight tin for up to six weeks, in fridge for six months, and for a year in the freezer.

Writers and latkes

My hands still smell of onions. After last night's latke fest of frying and eating, with my pal and writer, Libby Fischer Hellmann, this morning my fingers poised on a NYT Twitter link to Romain Gary. Above he's at his desk in his apartment in Paris on 108 rue du Bac probably taken in the early 70's.  He won two Prix Goncourt prizes (you're only allowed one but he also published under a pseudonym) and this article details the convoluted story.
https://www.nytimes.com/2017/12/13/books/review/romain-gary-promise-at-dawn-the-kites.html
What paused my oniony fingers is that I knew his office, those photos on the wall, that sofa facing his desk, that incredible face.
I visited him here.
After reading his novel, Promise at Dawn, for a high school book report, I wrote him a gushing fan letter. Remember, letters and how we put stamps on them?
He responded with a handwritten note of thanks and put his return address on the back of the envelope - 108 rue du Bac Paris 75007.
Little did he know or think that a fan like me would turn up on his tall doorstop in this chic section of Paris a few years later. I did - in jeans and flannel shirt - very unchic. He invited me inside, I think because he didn't know what to do with someone like this who had made such a faux pas of actually appearing at his apartment. I went into his office, the inner sanctum above and he grabbed his wallet and said, 'alors what about a coffee?'
We went down the street to the nearest cafe, his local, where a cigar and espresso were waiting for him on the zinc counter.  The cafe owner looked at me, then him and said 'what about her?' 'She'll have the same' said Gary. So I had my first cigar and espresso with this Prix Goncourt writer.
Heady stuff for a kid like me. I remember him as generous, warm, voluble and someone who treated me as a human being not the pest I'm sure I was.  What a gift.

Here's some pics of last night's latke making. Libby and I cooked so many that there's a lot left. You're welcome to come over.

Cara - Tuesday

The Authors Guild Visits Cuba

Annamaria on Monday

I am writing this on Sunday evening.  I returned from Cuba on Friday and leave again on Wednesday for Christmas in Italy.  So here are my thousands of words in pictures to share a splendid experience:

Havana

One of our lecturers, an urban panner, explained this dichotomy: People who
have relatives abroad to send them money can fix up their places.  Those who
lack such funds have no possibility to do so.

At the museum, a coffee house made of espresso pots.

And a painter turned sculptor pays homage to his metamorphosis.

Another of our lecturers gave us a survey of the evolution of Cuban music,
illustrated by one of the best jazz bands I've hear in years.

We danced at the Buena Vista Social Club

The most joyful event: a vist to the Lizt Alfonso Dance Academy.

On the Road and Cienfuegos

Michael and Stan can identify the birds, I am sure.

This dome looked very familiar to me.

Trinidad

We met and heard from the woman responsible for preserving the beauty of
this historic city.

Trinidad had the best food!

Lovely evening of drinks in the courtyard of the home of local artist

If you ever get a chance to visit Cuba, do not miss it.