cookie recipes

chatting with candice ransom about iva honeysuckle discovers the world (and a giveaway)!

~ jama ~ 30 Comments

Cornelius and I are thrilled to welcome award-winning children’s author Candice Ransom to the Alphabet Soup kitchen today.

As you may know, we’re in love with her latest book, Iva Honeysuckle Discovers the World (Disney Hyperion, 2012), which was just named to the Summer 2012 Kids’ Indie Next List, and which Kirkus describes as, “A breezy, wide-open window into the turbulent heart of a dramatic third-grade adventurer and her small-town Virginia community.”

I was instantly captivated by spunky and supremely self-assured Iva Honeycutt and her quest to become a world famous discoverer. With great-grandfather Ludwell’s treasure map in hand and her not-so-trusty canine companion Sweetlips by her side, she paces and dowses her way around her hometown of Uncertain, Virginia, searching for General Braddock’s war chest. But as all great explorers eventually learn, sometimes you end up finding something entirely different, and by golly, it’s even better!

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2012 poetry potluck giveaway winner and one last poem

~ jama ~ 28 Comments
Cornelius with the new official Alphabet Soup cookie: Oatmeal Jama Bars.

Cornelius and I can’t and don’t want to believe the 2012 Alphabet Soup Poetry Potluck is over. *sniff sniff*

Could it be May already? How time flies when you’re nibbling on good poetry and noshing to the nines!

Oh, what a feast we had — scaling mountains, “borrowing” a mail truck, visiting Cuba, playing with pirates, going to camp. We spiced things up with hot chili, jambalaya and a spooky brew, and even celebrated Passover together. And how about all those wonderful personal stories — grandmas who baked bread, cookies, biscuits and pies? What could be better than a group of fun-loving poets sharing good memories and bits of family history we could all relate to?

Food is the great equalizer, allowing us to reach back in time, adopt new customs and cultures, and bond with others in unique ways. I thoroughly enjoyed all the poems and learning a wee bit more about each of the poets — the journalist in me always craves those wonderful backstories and I thank everyone for digging up those vintage photos and giving us a peek into your private worlds.

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janet wong: handful of this, pinch of that

~ jama ~ 52 Comments

#18 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2012.

Other

We notice each other right away.
We are the only two Asians in the room.
It does not matter that her hair is long.
It does not matter that I am fat.
I look at her like I look in a mirror,
recognizing my self in one quick glance.

Copyright © 1996 Janet S.Wong (A Suitcase of Seaweed and Other Poems, Margaret K. McElderry Books)

In a recent interview at the Teaching Authors blog, April Halprin Wayland referred to Janet Wong as, “a force of nature in the world of children’s poetry.” Forever brimming with ideas, quick to encourage others, and tirelessly evangelizing the reading, writing and sharing of poetry in different forms and formats, Janet is truly beloved by her readers and an ongoing inspiration to her peers.

Often, when reading Janet’s poems, I have to stop for a fist pump, my inner child shouting, “YES!” It’s so good to feel understood, validated and simply human. I love when her humor surprises me, when she takes something small and ordinary and turns it on its side so I can see it from a fresh perspective, and I always appreciate the genuine, authentic voice that proves she really gets it, gets you.

I’ve lived the truth of “Other” countless times. Is it better to feel invisible, or to stick out like a sore thumb, when all you want is to belong and be proud of who you are?  I’m glad this poem is there for anyone who’s ever felt like the odd man out.

I’m happy that Janet chose to share another poem from A Suitcase of Seaweed today, since it’s my personal favorite of her poetry collections. With razor sharp perception, she examines some of the differences between Korean and Chinese customs and holds them up to the American way of life. I laughed at “Rice Cooker” because I did the very same thing, and I could just smell those sheets of seaweed and taste that “Beef Bone Soup.” See why I like this book so much?

For now, though, let’s imagine we all have a Chinese grandmother to bake us these cookies. I loved them as a child, but ours came from a Chinese bakery. Lucky Janet!

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friday feast: sondra gash, quite a cookie

~ jama ~ 66 Comments

#16 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2012.

If you give a poet a cookie, she will eat it, learn to make more, and then grow up to write a poem about it that millions of people will hear on the radio.

I’m talking about Sondra Gash’s, “Rugelah, 5 a.m.,” of course, which Garrison Keillor read on The Writer’s Almanac back in August 2010. Sondra’s poem made me hungry to learn more about this popular Jewish confection, which is enjoyed year round and often called “cream cheese cookies” here in the U.S.

Rugelach dough is commonly rolled into a circle, then sliced into pie wedges which are then rolled up to form crescent shapes (via S. Filson).

Depending upon whom you talk to, the Yiddish term”rugelach,” can be translated as “royal,” “little twists,” or “horns.” The practice of combining cream cheese or sour cream with fruit, nuts, jams, and spices to make cookies, cakes and other pastries is a central European tradition with ancient Middle Eastern roots.

We have to thank Eastern European immigrants for bringing the first rugelach recipes to this country. According to Joan Nathan (Jewish Cooking in America), “There is no other Jewish sweet that has gone more mainstream than rugelach.” Though I have yet to bake any myself, thus far I’ve been unable to resist these rich, flaky little crescents whenever they appear on a holiday cookie tray or in a bakery window: raspberry jam and dark chocolate! marzipan and walnuts! cinnamon, poppy seeds, apricot preserves, raisins! A bite of history that stays with you forever.

Take another bite of this Apricot-Pecan-Raisin Rugelach. Yum! (via S. Filson)

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robyn hood black, leader of the pack

~ jama ~ 65 Comments

#8 in the Poetry Potluck Series, celebrating National Poetry Month 2012.

Robyn with her office cat, May, who’s helping her celebrate the arrival of her contributor copies of THE ARROW FINDS ITS MARK (Roaring Brook, 2012).

Awrrrroooooo!

Children’s poet and author Robyn Hood Black is here! She’s one of several newish online friends I’ve met through Poetry Friday, and I have so enjoyed visiting her blog Read, Write, Howl every week to see just what this multi-talented, animal-loving gal is up to.

Will she post an original haiku or a piece of her beautiful artwork? Will she share pictures of the wolves she cavorts with as a volunteer for a nearby wildlife preserve, or maybe poetry and drawings created by some of the many children she’s met through school visits and community presentations?  No matter what she does,  Robyn’s passion always shines through.

Like the best of potluck guests, Robyn’s brought along both grog and grub — a previously unpublished, bewitchingly amusing, finely tuned recipe poem, and a batch of her newly renamed Oatmeal Bars (I am understandably highly partial to these).  She also created a gorgeous relief print to go with her poem. Lots to savor here, so don your black bibs and enjoy every delectable word and crumb!

Robin: My brother Mike and I used to transform our circa-1970 ranch house into a haunted house each Halloween — we charged admission and everything. We had a spooky secret passage in a tunnel under his built-in bed, bowls of peeled grape eyeballs on the bathroom counter, headless people sitting at the dining room table — the whole nine yards. I was usually a black cat or something, but Mike, who grew up to be an engineer, was a haunted house himself one year. Very impressive.

The idea for this poem came to me one day earlier this year when I was out walking the dog — a crow was cawing above us, and I just started thinking of tangible and intangible things — in black and white — that might go into a “spooky brew.”

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