Hello friends,
Some of you are new subscribers! You may have found yourself here through the essay I wrote for Stained Page News about recipes in narrative nonfiction. And behold, this newsletter, unlike some I’ve written, includes recipes (see below!). I want to give fair warning that I write so sporadically that you may have no recollection of having signed up. That said, I’m so glad to welcome you to Group Living!
Where I am, where I’ve been
I’m currently writing from my home in Portland, Oregon, where the roads are covered in slippery ice. Now and then, if you dare to take a walk outside, a sharp wind comes along, pierces your clothes, rips up your face, and reminds you to be incredibly grateful for warm shelter—which I really am!
Strangely, although you’d never know it, I wrote my last newsletter from the humid heat of the Philippines, where I spent three weeks with my mom in November. Our primary purpose was to spend time with her eldest sister, my auntie Dolores—or Dee, as we call her—who is 88 years old, has severe dementia, and recently lost her husband to cancer. Dee never had children and so my mom has asked me to step into a larger role in her care. It’s a request I welcome but don’t fully comprehend yet.
We also met relatives (my grandfather was Filipino, and he was the only sibling of 12 who immigrated to the US) and did our best to get our bearings in a place my mom wants us both to feel deeply connected to. I ate some thrillingly delicious food—including special pichi pichi covered in cheese! I learned a little Tagalog and relished all the Filipino nicknames. I will definitely write more on this in the weeks/months/years ahead, but I wanted to share a little context for what’s been happening in my personal life, and one of many reasons I just… disappeared.
Conceptions / old and new
Like many of you, I’ve also been processing what’s happening in Israel and Gaza, how it intersects with American politics, economics, and identity, and what we can (and seemingly cannot) do to secure a ceasefire and stop Israeli forces from continuing to kill tens of thousands of civilians using US weapons.
A few notes on this, and then I will get to my original purpose. (Books! And cookies!) I had the opportunity to talk with someone older than me who’s pretty apolitical and gets most of her news from television. In our meandering conversation, I mentioned Netanyahu’s strategy called “conception” to weaken the Palestinian Authority and allow money to funnel to Hamas through Qatar. In Netanyahu’s words, “Anyone who wants to thwart the establishment of a Palestinian state must support bolstering Hamas and transferring money to Hamas.” She was shocked she hadn’t heard about it. I was shocked she thought US broadcast news would give her a full or honest picture of what’s happening.
Then she asked me how Israel should have responded to the Hamas attacks, and since I was a few drinks in I let myself answer her question in a way that is absolutely naive and ahistorical and totally what I believe: they should have asked what they could do to help Palestinians. Instead of immediately bombing, which, as we have seen, has isolated them from everyone except a handful of nations (and put them on trial for genocide), they should have interrogated how little their politics of militarism have achieved to this point—for anyone—and asked broadly how to begin a conversation about the path to collective safety.
I write this alternate scenario not because I think anything so Pollyanna was ever on the table (can you even imagine! I can almost hear people’s derision), but because I think it’s important to realize what’s not on the table and the resulting cost in human and non-human life. I also believe that sometimes it’s important to say naive things and not accept the world as it is. Our governments believe safety is secured through violence. I find this idea hard to even comprehend.
I sincerely hope that more Americans will do some soul-searching and reject US self-mythologizing—myself very much included! Why is the US bombing Yemen, although no Houthi attacks have killed US citizens? And why are the Houthis attacking cargo ships headed for Israel? Why did President Biden not mention the 23,000-plus Palestinians killed in the past 100 days in his speech on Sunday, as he mourned the Israeli life lost and hostages still at large? Why are so many of us in the US uncomfortable writing, posting, and talking about politics in any form besides the super generic?
And then there’s the question I’m afraid to look in the face: Where does this go from here?
AND NOW… Comfort!
what a transition lol…
I’ve actually been planning to share a list of my favorite books I read in 2024. I loved writing a list of favorites last year, and I read some bangers this year! But I feel this newsletter has gone… on… too… long… already. Instead, I will share a few deeply comforting recipes that I developed inspired by Margaret Renkl’s wonderful book The Comfort of Crows.
Renkl’s book is so good that its first print run sold out (but don’t worry, Powells still has some copies!). It’s structured as one pensive essay a week for a full year, following the seasons. One might in fact read it one week at a time. In each chapter, Renkl documents both the marvels and destruction of the natural world. She illuminates our disconnection from non-human life by detailing her own daily noticing of it, especially of birds! Ann Patchett called it a “love letter,” and I agree in the way that love can tear you apart and also give you reason to live. I was shocked to feel so inspired to act in my own yard and community while also feeling repeatedly heartbroken. A rare achievement—and a good antidote to feeling helpless!
In September, I had the honor of hosting an afterparty for Renkl at my house when she visited Portland for a booksellers conference. Her editor, Joey, is also my editor! Joey and I thought cookies and drinks would be a nice nightcap after a long conference day, and so I tried to translate some of my fondest feelings for the book into recipes! (I’m not a mixologist, so my friend Margarett, two ts, helped!)
This frosty icy weather that most of the US is experiencing calls for baking cookies and nursing boozy drinks, so I thought to share them now. I know this sounds cocky but these recipes are great! Please try them out and comment with any feedback below.
Thank you for being part of my community. Stay warm!
Crow Shortbread Cookies
I used a crow cookie cutter for this, which was adorable! But of course any cookie cutter will work. I also covered the cookies in chocolate ganache, but they’re great on their own. Unlike other buttery cookies (and this is buttery!), you never need to chill this dough in the fridge, so it’s very quick to put together.
Buckwheat Shortbread
Makes about 6 large crow cookies
Adapted from Roxana Jullapat’s Mother Grains (such a good cookbook!)
1/4 cup confectioner’s sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into ½-inch cubes, at room temperature
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup buckwheat flour
1 teaspoon salt
Preheat the oven to 300 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
In a food processor, pulse the two sugars together until combined. Add the butter and pulse until it’s mixed into the sugar. Add the flours and salt and pulse until the dough comes together. It will look pebbly—that’s OK! Better to stop when it’s just coming together rather than overwork the dough.
Turn the dough onto a work surface with a little flour on it. Shape into a disk about 6 inches in diameter. Dust your rolling pin in flour. Roll out the dough until it’s approximately 1/2-inch thick. I like to periodically lift the dough to make sure it’s not sticking. If the dough is very sticky, place a sheet of parchment underneath and continue rolling.
Use your cookie cutter to cut out the crows, occasionally dipping the cutter in flour so it won’t stick to the dough. Place the cookies on the parchment-lined baking sheet about 1 inch apart. Gather the scraps and reroll to cut more crows. When you have only a tiny bit of dough left, make freeform cookies, dipped in cinnamon sugar, as a prize for the baker.
Bake the cookies for 15 minutes. Rotate the baking sheet. Bake another 15 minutes or until the bottoms of the cookies are turning golden. Remove from the oven and let cool completely before you decorate with chocolate ganache. Cookies will keep for a week in an airtight container at room temperature.
Chocolate Ganache
This recipe comes from a holiday booklet my mom saved from Nature’s Fresh Northwest, a grocery store she worked at in the eighties and nineties. No one was credited with writing this recipe, although I suspect my mom’s friend Claudia Knotek contributed it.
6 ounces semi-sweet chocolate
2 tablespoons rum
2 tablespoons butter
Pinch of salt
In a double boiler over medium heat, add all the chocolate ganache ingredients and stir until the chocolate has melted. Stop right at that moment. Scrape the ganache into a broad bowl and whisk until it’s smooth. As the ganache cools, it will harden, so spread it over the cookies while it’s still warm and easier to work with. Using a spoon or an offset spatula, place a teaspoon of ganache on each cookie and spread across the surface to cover. A little goes a long way!
Bird Seed Candy
Adapted from Lisa Lin’s blog, Healthy Nibbles
Based on a Chinese confection, this candy is inspired by Margaret’s dedication to feeding the birds. Interestingly, you can’t increase the honey and decrease the sugar (which I considered), because then the candy won’t become crunchy. The honey adds flavor; the sugar creates the satisfying texture.
1/2 cup sesame seeds
1/4 cup sunflower seeds
1/4 cup pumpkin seeds
1-1/2 teaspoons neutral oil (like sunflower)
2 tablespoons honey
1/3 cup sugar
Big pinch flaky salt
Pour the sesame seeds into a large pan (ideally a cast-iron skillet). Over medium-high heat, toast them for about 3 to 4 minutes, stirring frequently, until they become aromatic. A few seeds will pop like jumping beans. Turn off the heat and transfer the sesame seeds to a bowl.
Next, toast the sunflower seeds for around 3 to 4 minutes, stirring occasionally, until some of the seeds turn golden. Transfer the sunflower seeds to the bowl with the sesame seeds.
Repeat with the pumpkin seeds. These will really fly when they pop, so have a lid ready to cover them, shaking the skillet like you would when making popcorn. Once many of the seeds have popped and the air smells delicious, turn off the heat and continue to shake the pan. The residual heat will continue to pop some of the remaining seeds and turn others a lovely caramel color. Combine them with the sesame and sunflower seeds, mixing everything together.
Over medium heat in a large stainless-steel pan, add the oil, honey, and sugar. Stir frequently. The goal is for the sugar to dissolve completely. This should happen within two minutes. Continue to cook for another minute, stirring frequently as the syrup becomes runny and then thickens slightly. Turn off the heat. Immediately add the seeds to the pot and stir to coat with the syrup.
Working quickly, pour the hot candy onto a large sheet of parchment paper. Lay another sheet of parchment over the gooey pile of seeds. The mixture will be brutally hot so be careful not to touch it with your hands. With a rolling pin, press down gently, rolling out the candy into a sheet about 1/3-inch thick. Once the candy is rolled out to a fairly uniform thickness, lift off the upper sheet of parchment and sprinkle a few big pinches of flaky salt over the top.
Cut the candy into small squares or rectangles while it’s still warm. (Once it cools, it’s more likely to crumble when you try to cut it.) Let the candy cool. It will become crunchy—like a sesame snap! Once cooled, you can store the candy in an airtight container for several weeks.
Tennessee Milk Punch
Makes 1 serving
Adapted from Edible Vermont
So much of Margaret’s book is about patient observation and curiosity, and this drink makes me think of slowing down. It’s a natural accompaniment to cookies—it plays the role milk does, cutting through the sweetness. Apparently milk punch was invented in the 1600s. It’s been with us for a long time.
3 ounces milk (dairy or unsweetened nondairy)
1 ounce Tennessee-made bourbon
½ ounce maple syrup, or to taste
¼ ounce dark rum
⅛ ounce pure vanilla extract
Combine the bourbon, rum, milk, vanilla and maple syrup in a Mason jar or cocktail shaker filled with ice. Vigorously shake. Strain into a glass. Serve at once, with crow shortbread and bird seed candy!