Tiny Turkey

We had our Thanksgiving meal with the traditional turkey on Saturday but it wouldn't seem right not to have some form of poultry in the oven while the parade and dog show play on the telly. So this morning the pot of homemade sage and garlic stuffing went on the stove top, and the sweet potatoes in their foil jackets went into the oven with the single serving birds. I have always wanted to try my hand at Cornish Game Hen...

Mind you, the sweet potatoes actually took longer to cook through than the birds. I got some huge ones this year (2-3 pounds each). Bigger than the "turkey." And, yes, that one sweet potato is rather piggy shaped -- I couldn't resist adding ears by tipping up the corners of the foil.
The little hens were surprisingly easy. If you've managed to cook a full-sized turkey you can certainly do a game hen.

I stuffed dried rosemary sprigs and whole black peppercorns in the cavity.

Rubbed the tops with olive oil and garlic powder, and a few more sprigs of rosemary.

Drizzled in the fruit juice, I used lime juice --because pepper and lime is a great combo but it's not the best fruit flavor for enhancing this bird. I think apple would be better.

My game hens were about 1 1/2 pounds each (once I removed the gizzards a little less) and they took about 1 1/2 hours at 350 degrees to bake. I didn't really time it that well. The key to knowing when any poultry is done? Poke the bird with a fork -- if the juice runs clear (no tinge of pink) then it's cooked through.

Aside from going in and dipping up juices over the birds (to keep them moist) there's not much to do. They really just sit in there and bake themselves.

Happy Thanksgiving

Why Don't They Ever Listen?

I remember taking a handicapped friend to see Titanic for the 14th time. Colleen takes it hard that Jack dies, I was warned, but last time left her distraught over the fate of the poor iceberg.

Coming out of the theater after the movie I was completely unprepared for Colleen's assertions that Rose died. Nothing I said could convince her that Rose had lived in the movie. She was full of a story about how Rose had sacrificed herself to save Jack --she changed the movie. Jack was going to live, if the film makers wouldn't save him Colleen would.

I understand how Colleen felt. I often find myself imagining different endings, or middles, or whole movies after seeing something on-screen that did not live up to its trailers. And I'm vocal about it.

My family refuse to go out to the movies with me -- especially if I've read the book they made the film from -- because I will make comments. During the movie.
I try not to but I always end up talking to the screen. I offer advice to the characters, to the writers, to the director... I tell them how they should have done it. They never listen.

For me, nothing ever changes. Films go on deliberately altering the fictional realities of my favorite books in a manner that amounts to character assassination, violating the facts of history in a manner that makes the word anachronistic an understatement, and demonstrating truly original bad taste and poor decision making at a frighteningly increasing rate. (Really good movies are getting scarce, IMO.)

Last night as my sister and I watched a comedy on the television, I was once again speaking to the screen, bemoaning the lack of morality in our culture and pointing out that the obvious consequences could have been avoided if they would simply have listened to me four or five scenes ago....
And I had an idea: What if television and movies did listen? What if it the endings did change?

Remember "Choose Your Own Adventure" books? I love this concept. You read a page or two and then there is a choice to be made, you choose what you would do and turn to the corresponding page to see how your choice plays out... why couldn't this be done with film? An interactive webisode for all of us out here who shout advice to the television while patient family members quietly insist "They can't hear you."

Now if only someone was listening....

Seed Head

Presto

The three main ingredients in Pesto are fresh basil, pine nuts, and Parmesan cheese... but it also takes a lot of time in the blender and time cooking and some days you just don't have that kind of time. So here's a pesto inspired dish that takes way less time to prepare.

PRESTO:
2-3 cups fresh basil loosely chopped
1 1/2 cups pine nuts
1/4 cup (or so) cup olive oil
1 red pepper roughly diced
2 yellow peppers roughly diced
1/2 an onion diced fine (or equivalent amount diced dried onion)
kosher salt to taste

If you're serving over noodles (I recommend a fun-shaped noodle like pinwheels) you'll want to start your water first. And don't begin sauteing until after the noodle water boils because, seriously, this only needs about five minutes over medium flame in a cast iron skillet.

Serve over noodles, with a sprinkling of Parmesan cheese to top it off.

Sheep and Goats

Sitting in the tiny church I heard the message of salvation preached to a congregation of parishioners settled inexorably into their pews, seeming to have weathered and aged in place.

Every Sunday for the last fifty years they must have heard this message.

I could not help wishing I knew how many had chosen, how many had accepted Christ. I wanted to stand up front and ask. Will the congregation please take sides?

Those who need to hear it one more time on the left, and sheep to the right.
Would anyone move?

Anne of Green Garbled

I watched with increasing horror the latest "Anne of Green Gables" movie. New Beginnings is supposed to be a prequel. Based on the DVD's back blurb I was prepared for the astounding fact that Canada's most beloved orphan has been recategorized as a compulsive liar with a secret living parent for this latest Ken Sullivan flick.

Granted I was already resigned to expecting wide divergence from the facts of the books after the shenanigans of the third Anne movie in the original trilogy. In that third movie, ignoring a wealth of material to choose from in the books by L. M. Montgomery, Sullivan chose instead it invent a new story wholecloth, putting Anne and Gilbert on the front lines in WWI.... but that, at least was a fairly well written story. The prequel has no such merit.

From pillar to post New Beginnings is ill-conceived anachronistic trauma juxtaposed with speeches and spectacles lifted from earlier movies. And when I say earlier movies, I do not mean solely scenes from the Anne of Green Gables films which the new child star mimics perfectly down to the very pauses, emphasis, inflections Megan Follows used in the same speeches. I also spotted a scene or two from Jane Eyre. I am fairly certain the Shirley McClain "Mrs. Thomas" character and her mill town of "Merrysville" came straight from Pollyanna for the picnic. And to be honest, I was almost surprised not to have heard Anne saying "Please Sir, can I have some more?" But perhaps that scene was mercifully left on the cutting room floor.

Aside from being a pastiche, in the most hopeless sense of the word, the story is fraught with inconsistencies. To put it kindly, the movie is not only Not Anne of Green Gables, it's not even a good story.

I was particularly moved by a scene at a railway station when Louisa confesses to stealing -- and in the next breath gushed about her destine friendship. Not exactly an apology, and no offer to repay, not even any guilt really, just: "Hey, I stole money rightfully yours and sent you to a poorhouse - clearly we were fated to be bosom friends." The lack of reality and awkwardness of this construction moved me to near tears. Secrets that would force the mills to be sold, turn into secrets that make the mills worthless. I have to admit for forcing "suspension of disbelief" this is an excellent storyline -- I still can't believe I watched it to the end. Heart-warming moments of character growth are revoked in the next scene with no explanation. Villains abound. And moreover, no matter what happens in the interim when the action picks up again they insist on remaining villains -- or starting unions -- it's unclear, but either way it's bad news for young Anne.

The framework for the younger story is a conflicted, aging Anne's struggle to write a theater play. This is the plot line where the manners and wardrobe anachronisms really bothered me most. I realize I am more sensitive than most when it comes to period costuming but SERIOUSLY???? Anne wears slacks the entire time. Okay, sure they've yanked the time frame forward to the 1940's so women were wearing slacks then -- though I seriously doubt that a 12 year old who yearned for "puffed sleeves" (c. 1875) would have worn them no matter how many script writers were lying about her age -- but even the most liberated young pant wearing female wouldn't have worn a shell blouse, over sized sweater, and trousers Everywhere. I'm sorry, it's a good look for the actress but it's just not period correct. And even if, by some inconceivable stretch of the imagination, you could justify the pants for each and every scene -- there is NO way to justify a trouser-clad female sitting with one knee up, foot in the chair, other leg curled around in the lobby of a hotel. Respectable women in that time period did NOT sit that way in public, EVER, even in pants.

Plus the unrecognizably morphed and modern Anne is really the only character remaining that L.M. Montgomery ever put a pen to. Diana Barry won't return Anne's calls, she's too busy golfing. I suspect she saw the script and decided she rather be dead than participate in such a travesty. That was certainly Gilbert's approach. Anne cries on his grave in a touching scene that reminds me of another movie I saw ...