The Town Crier just posted my review of Peter Taylor’s The Masons. You can check it out here.
I know I haven’t posted much by the way of recipes recently, but I experimented my way into this variant of a Monte Cristo sandwich the other day, and I love it, so here it is –
Take whichever bowl is closest to hand and squirt in a healthy amount of Japanese mayo (it probably has an official name, but that’s what we call it around our house, and that’s how we ask for it at the store downtown). Add about two thirds the amount of oil (I’ve used olive and grape, and both worked fine). Add lots of minced garlic (don’t skimp on garlic, ever). Add a bunch of minced fresh parsley. Add salt and pepper. Grate into this mixture a nice strong, hard Swiss cheese (I use Emmentaler), enough that the mixture gets nicely spreadable.
Spread this mixture thickly onto two slices of bread. This is not the time to get health conscious. Thickly. Put some fresh shaved ham between them.
Preheat a skillet. While you wait, crack a couple of eggs into a bowl, and whisk with some milk. Pour the egg mixture into a shallow pan until it’s about the height of your bread. Dip your sandwich into the egg mixture on both sides. It shouldn’t be much trouble, because the cheese mixture holds everything together. Fry it until it’s beautiful and golden on both sides.
I’ve been doing a fair bit of recreational reading recently, what with being socially isolated and all (although with three kids, my wife, my mother-in-law, my homestay student, and my tenants in the basement all cooped up wit me, I sometimes wish my isolation could be a little more complete). As I’ve been reading, I’ve come across a few things that I don’t otherwise have a place for, so here they are –
1. In Adam Mars-Jones’ The Waters of Thirst, he includes the identical paragraph twice, in places that wouldn’t make the repetition obviously or even usefully stylistic. In my edition (Faber and Faber, 1993), the repeated section appears on pages 5 and 63, and it reads so: “Kids these days, with their Gore-Tex grafts and their high-flux machines. Two hours for dialysis! That’s not kidney failure. That’s a holiday.” What a strange bit to repeat if done so intentionally. What an obvious repetition to miss if done so inadvertently. Make of it what you can.
2. In John Berger’s Pig Earth, he includes this paragraph, which is ended by my new favourite phrase in the English language: “In the soup, made with parts of the salted backbone, were carrots, parsnips, leeks, turnips. The loaves were passed round and held against each chest in turn, as a slice was cut off. Then, spoons in hand, we entered the meal.” What a beautiful formulation! – “We entered the meal.” It says something perfect and otherwise indescribable about the shared meal. Amazing.
The Gordon Hill Press Spring 2020 titles are now here!
- Mike Chaulk’s Night Lunch – a sonnet sequence about a young man returning to Labrador to work a fishing boat and reconnect with his Indigenous heritage.
- Amy LeBlanc’s I know something you don’t know – a collection of poems exploring the intersections of folklore and femininity.
- Geoffrey Morrison and Matthew Tomkinson’s Archaic Torso of Gumby – an eclectic collection of interlinking essays and fiction.
I’m a few days behind, but The Town Crier magazine recently posted my review of the loot bag from bill bissett’s What Fuckan Birthday? Check it out.
Kevin Heslop at The Temz Review has just posted an interview with Roxanna Bennett and I about Roxanna’s new book, unmeaningable, and about Gordon Hill Press.
My son Ethan and I have had the fun opportunity to write an essay together for The Town Crier. It’s called “Performing the Tale: On Telling Story as a Dungeon Master“, and it’s about how telling story as a Dungeon Master is different than telling story through a written form. Check it out.
Queen Mob’s Tea House just posted my interview with Guelph poet Karen Houle, and recently short-listed for the Governor General’s Award for Poetry. We chat about her new book, The Grand River Watershed: A Folk Ecology.
The Town Crier magazine just posted my review of Elisha May Rubacha’s Too Much Nothing, published by Apt. 9 Press Check it out.