Restingmotion

Last week I had the privilege of attending a program on the history of the stained glass windows at First Presbyterian Church Knoxville. The window above was designed by Flora Macdonald.

I like stained glass, but I don’t often think about stained glass. I used to own a little stained glass panel made by an early boyfriend. Somehow I don’t have that anymore; I hadn’t thought about it in years. George designed a custom door for our house in Hyde Park and it included stained glass windows inspired in part by the work of Frank Lloyd Wright, but the window design was all George. That door was beautiful, but it was in a previous house, in a previous life. I wonder who owns that house now, if that door is still there.

I tend to think stained glass windows and churches go together. Certainly there is a long, strong history of putting stained glass in churches. My own church has many stained glass windows although truthfully I don’t think about them much.

Because this isn’t my church, because I was attending a specific program, I actually looked at, and thought about, these windows. The windows span the church’s history, and there is a variety of styles, which I do find interesting because one of the subjects I constantly find fascinating is the subject about the ways humans interact and worship the divine. Churches often are, and this seems to apply to stained glass windows in particular, as much about ego and hubris as they are about faith and submission to God’s divine plan. This may not be the lesson the tour was intending to plant in my mind.

But what has remained with me is not so much the windows themselves, although they are beautiful, but the light. If I were just looking at the windows as art, I can admit to being drawn to the windows by MacDonald (top) and Tiffany (second photo) and not so much to the window above. But when I am thinking about light and how the light shapes the space, it is these windows, the ones like the third photo that really capture my attention because they allow light into the space and the light that enters harmonizes with the space nicely.

I like light in places of worship. Not necessarily glaring light, but light. Light that shifts and glows and reveals itself in ways that reminds me of the shifting ways that creation is revealed. Not all stained glass windows do that. I can’t really say much about these windows, as I saw them on one overcast day. Usually I have been in that church at nighttime, where the light through stained glass is irrelevant. I do know that the window that sparkled the most that day, the window filled a space with a welcoming glow, was in an alcove but not in the sanctuary itself. I did not take a picture, but I do not need a picture to remember how that light invited one to sit and tarry, to share a moment or a conversation.

I am quite happy I went on this tour. It was both special and mundane: windows in an ordinary church; windows filled with the history of that church, a very human history. I think the tour itself will stay in my mind for a while, as seem obvious since I am still thinking about these windows ten days later. I’m not thinking about the windows themselves although the windows are integral to the thoughts they engendered. I am thinking about light and darkness, appropriate now as we head into winter. I am thinking about faith, and pride, honor and doubt. I am thinking about hopes, dreams, ambitions and the consequences of every little ripple. I am thinking that as vast and important as all of the ideas seem to me in this moment, in this day, in this month, in this year even, they are all but a spec, a tiny mote, inconsequential in the universe itself.

These windows. This Universe. All contained. Simultaneously hidden and yet revealed in each and every moment.

I’m still kind of figuring myself out here, once again, and it is obvious that I could be putting some time into finishing this site. But obviously that is not a high priority.

In October I read only three books, and two of those were cookbooks. Of course a lot was going on in October: two trips, a fall resulting in a badly sprained ankle, a general falling behind and piling up of backlog. All in all, I still think it was a good month,

Cookbooks were the interesting thing this month so I wills start there, although I really didn’t do that much cooking for reasons stated above. But I read two cookbooks, and they were fascinating.

The Kitchen Arts and Letters cookbook club was focusing on bread baking in October and we were working through two texts, although members need only choose one. I opted for both.

Although I have always loved reading cookbooks, loved reading the recipes as much as cooking, it is only within the past year that I have somehow delved more deeply into cookbook reading. Alas that now means that I want a cookbook that I love reading as much as I love cooking from it.

Or perhaps I am also content with a cookbook that I love reading but will probably rarely, if ever, use directly to cook, or in this case, bake bread. The Bread Baker’s Apprentice is a great bread book. it is very detailed, very technical, and perhaps more serious than the casual bread baker would want. I loved reading it, loved Reinhart’s storytelling as well as all the technical expertise. I learned a lot about bread reading this book, and I was once pretty serious about baking bread.

Of course that was before I discovered I was celiac, and I am afraid I have not been particularly devoted to gluten-free bread baking. Still Reinhart’s information on technique is excellent and there is actually a lot of information here that I believe would be helpful in any bread baking journey. Most of the recipes and techniques however are not going to translate directly. I am fine with that. Reading this book I feel I have gained a better understanding of bread.

There is one recipe in the book however that was not typical of the rest of the book, the one recipe for cornbread. Cornbread is not a yeasted bread, which makes it an anomaly here. But I loved the way Reinhart wrote about cornbread; he made me think about my own love of cornbread. And although Reinhart states outright that he likes sweet cornbread, and I normally do not, I wanted to make his cornbread. He also used an interesting technique, one I had not used previously, and I thought this would be a useful experiment. If successful this technique could expand my cornbread horizons beyond the simple traditional cornbread I most often make.

The cornbread was a success. I loved it. It is sweet, and although I might like the bread itself to be slightly less sweet, I loved the complexity of the way the three varieties of sugar played together, as well as the way they made the corn kernels in the bread pop with a glisteningly sweet, tender, fruity, almost candy-like bite. I The combination of cornbread, sweet corn and salty bacon was an addictive bite. The cornbread keeps well, surprisingly well, and even more surprisingly, made excellent toast. In fact toasting brought a bit of caramelization to the sugars, which was even more enticing to me than the cornbread fresh out of hte oven. I would not be inclined to mess with the sugar in this recipe because it contributes to all of these qualities I find attractive; it is simply a sweetly savory cornbread.

I had been looking forward to Aran Goyoaga’s baking book since before it was released, and I was very happy when it was chosen as an alternate book for the cookbook club. It too is a great read, and I loved the amount of detail Aran gives about gluten-free baking, her own personal history, and the recipes themselves. The fact that she also discusses how to make the same gluten-free breads either dairy free or egg free when possible, is an added bonus.

Unfortunately, because my time at home in October was also primarily “rest and elevate” and non-weight-bearing time, I did not get a lot of baking done. That is not a probelm, it simply means my use of this book has gotten delayed.

My first attempt at a sourdough starter failed. This could be because I hadn’t yet turned on the heat and my kitchen was at a chilly 62 degrees. It is also possible that I, addled by pain and pain meds, skipped a feeding. I’m not going to worry about that; there will be a sourdough starter in my future.

Early this month however, I did make Goyoaga’s recipe for soft and fluffy potato rolls. These are the best gluten-free soft rolls I have ever made, and probably the best or very close to the best gluten-free soft rolls I have ever eaten. That is high praise, and they are not difficult.

They certainly have the best texture I have achieved in a gluten-free yeasted bread. With such a success on my first attempt, I am even more excited about moving forward with this book.

But on to other things. The third book I read in October was a collection of short stories, Likes, by Sarah Shun-Lien Bynum . This is atypical for me because I am really not a reader of short stories. There are short story collections I love; for example I reread Jumpha Lahiri’s collection, The Interpreter of Maladies earlier this year, and perhaps enjoyed them even more than I had the first time around.

I did not think Likes measured up to my favorite collections of short-stories, but it was a good collection of mostly well crafted short stories, of varied technique. I liked the variation in technique, although it did make the book feel somewhat like an exploration of style in short story writing. I thought the standout was the first story, “The Erlking”. I thought this was fairly well crafted, and the author used mythology in an interesting way to explore the differences between the reasoning and wishes of a child as compared to her mother. She did not fall too deeply into mythological allegory. Bynum also managed the perspective of two entirely different voices beautifully. This was the story in which I got the fullest sense of the characters, mother and daughter, of emotional yearning on both sides. It was also perhaps the most difficult story, the one with the most ambiguity and least clear-cut answers, which to me were its strengths.

The other stories were good, well written, but nothing special. I felt most of them were rather trite and unsurprising, and there were with some issues with pacing and flow. I felt they were also light on character development. Still the book was charming and enjoyable. Perhaps I am too harsh a critic; these were stories of this particular cultural moment. I found no enlightenment in them, nothing that will stay with me over time.

It has been a great autumn for classical music in Knoxville. Following the fabulous opening performances of the Knoxville symphony in September, the October concert, featuring the Elgar Cello Concerto was stunning. And the Knoxville opera put on a fabulous performance of Bizet’s Carmen. I didn’t write about either of those performances, not because I didn’t love them, but because other things, mostly having to do with my battered right foot were competing for my attention.

Last week however I was feeling a little more up to snuff, and I was lucky enough to attend two fabulous concerts on the same day.

In the morning I was lucky enough to attend one of the symphony’s “Young People’s Concerts” which are sponsored by my friend Sheena McCall. In the Knoxville Civic Auditorium, surrounded by a few thousand elementary school children, we took a musical road trip around the United States. The program was well chosen, diverse, and fabulously performed. When we were in New Orleans, we all got to stand up and march together to “When the Saints Go Marching In”. I couldn’t help but dance a little while I marched.

I liked that the screen alternated between showing scenes of the areas we were visiting and close ups of the musicians playing. As we turned back east from the west coast, we all sang “This Land is Your Land” together. The children weren’t the only ones’ having a great time. The song reminded me of my own childhood, and of life with George, who was a Woody Guthrie fan. I almost cried from joy while we sang.

The concert ended with a return to Knoxville, with a fabulous performance of “Rocky Top” and the sound of thousands of children singing the words with glee as they bounced in their seats, screaming with delight. What could be happier?

After that concert we went off to hear a chamber concert by the Knoxville Symphony’s Principal Quartet,

where we heard a fabulous program of Schubert and Beethoven. Both. pieces were beautifully performed and I love the way this concert series feels so close and personal. I love Beethoven’s middle quartets, and this one in particular. Once again, I was trying not to dance in my seat, not because dancing to the music is bad, but because I didn’t want to distract those behind me.

I did not take a very good photograph of the musicians, although I really wanted to do better. Next time. Kathryn Gawne gave a wonderful talk about the Beethoven before the performance and her talk had me thinking about the music, and what I adore about chamber music and how big of a role Beethoven played in the development of a type of sound I now take for granted.

It was a truly enjoyable performance. I often feel like Beethoven is part of my DNA, I grew up listening to it, and I know a huge swath of Beethoven’s repertoire by heart. This can sometimes be a problem because like most people I have preferences and biases, but I truly loved this performance — it both aligned with my expectations and was at the same time enlightening, allowing me to hear the music differently and make new musical and mental connections. For me that is the sign of a fabulous concert, when the listener comes out seeing something about music and the world differently.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon humming and thinking about music.

Things happen. Often they are random and there is nothing we can do but roll with the punches.

Sometimes we do something stupid and we simply have to roll with the consequences of our inattention.

The latter applies here.

I went out in the dark with Garbo for an early morning piddle break. I did not take my flashlight and I rolled off a curb into a neighbor’s patch of ivy, seriously spraining my foot and ankle in the process.

Once I discovered that I could indeed stand up, could indeed bear weight, I drove to Texas. The wisdom of this decision is not up for debate. What is done is done. That was over two weeks ago. My foot is still colorful but I am very lucky that I really didn’t break anything major and have mostly soft tissue injuries.

I never thought socks with Birkenstocks would be my look. But I am going with whatever works. For a couple of weeks these were the only shoes I could get my foot into, and the only shoe I could walk in. Now I can manage increasing distances in other shoes, but I still come back to my faithful birkenstocks.

I’m not up to full normal activity yet, and I’m writing this in bed with my foot elevated, which doesn’t seem to be the best position for actually getting anything done. Still I catch up a little more each day. Today I may finally finish unpacking from my trip, a mere 10 days after my return. I’ll catch up with everything else in time. Stubborn I am. I also consider myself extremely lucky not to have broken anything more serious.

Forward.

I believe I mentioned two cookbook clubs, but I only wrote about one. Let us continue.

In September the book for the “Cookbooks of Interest” club was Boustany by Sami Tamimi. I own Tamimi’s two previous books, Jerusalem, written with Yotam Ottolenghi, and Falastin. Both are favorites and many recipes from these books make frequent appearances in my kitchen. I was, therefore, very excited about the release of this new book.

Yet upon my initial perusal, I found this book to be less appealing than the two previous books. Hence “mixed feelings” as the title of this post. Many of the recipes appear to be tweaks, or minor variations, on other recipes, meant to satisfy the vegetable forward focus of this book, but not necessarily compelling on their own. But that admittedly is my own perspective formed after a long life of cooking. Not every book can appeal to every cook.

There is also a design issue I find annoying. Several of the recipes appear on the page in a format much like the one above. I understand that the goal is to have all the ingredients and instructions on one page. But apparently this means that for some recipes the title and head notes do not fit on the same page. Yet I find the layout above visually disturbing, distracting enough that it detracts from my enjoyment of the book. I admit that sounds shallow, and I don’t like the idea of being shallow. And yet here I am.

The recipes I have tested however have all been excellent. And that fact is softening my objections to the book.

This was the Fennel, Kohlrabi, and Cilantro salad. I love the way the sweet, anise, crispness of the fennel plays with the soft juicy bite of the kohlrabi with its earthy, cabbage/turnip vibes.

I did not make the dressing exactly as written. Despite my conviction to the contrary, I did not have an orange, and I was too tired to go out just to get one, so there was no orange zest. I did have lemons and limes but although they would have been delicious, I was not convinced they would provide the note I wanted. Instead I used some candied grapefruit peel that I had made after infusing some gin with grapefruit last spring. I am sure the flavor profile was not the same as the one Tamimi intended, but it added a very nice note and provided that depth of citrus layering that I was seeking. That dressing, by the way, is fabulous and I would use it with many other dishes.

The salad and dressing played very nicely together with a subtle layering of flavor that I had not anticipated. Not surprisingly, using two types of mint, dried and fresh, added complexity. I did think my salad needed a bright pop of acidity so I sprinkled sumac on top, which was not in the recipe. This simply could have been my tastebuds, the use of candied grapefruit peel instead of fresh orange zest, or simply the differences in flavor between individual vegetables.

Next Up was braised chard with crispy onions and sumac. The idea of adding sumac to chard, one of my favorite vegetables, was very appealing. And I admittedly liked the idea of the crispy onions as well. Otherwise there is nothing new here in terms of technique. The chard is parboiled, drained, then sautéed the with aromatics; pretty much my standard method. Tamimi tells you how to make crisp fried onions, but frankly I think the kind that you buy at the grocery store would work just as well. If I could find gluten-free crispy fried onions, I would have not have fried my own. I learned that sumac and chard go very well together, and that crispy fried onions are good on top of sautéed greens. I don’t really need a recipe for this, but I never would have thought of it on my own. .

The high point of the book, so far, is the dish above: eggplant m’tabbal with tomato and cilantro salsa. This is a dish I would drive out of my way to have at a restaurant and I will definitely make it again. It is also a dish I will not make frequently just because of the time involved in salting the eggplant and then frying it. It is definitely worth the effort, but a bit indulgent for this solo diner. The salted eggplant does not absorb as much oil as it would if I skipped that step. Most of the eggplant is tossed with a tahini-yogurt sauce, and the remainder goes into the tomato cilantro salad. The result is far more than the sum of its parts. The dish is not difficult, it simply requires planning, and it is richly satisfying and crave-worthy. This dish alone was worth the price of the book.

The final dish I made in September was Eggplant and Fava Beans with Eggs, although in the photo above you only see the fava bean and eggplant stew without the eggs. I made the full recipe, which served four, thinking that the eggplant, bean and tomato mixture would reheat well, and I could use it for multiple meals. This proved to be true, and the dish did indeed mellow and become softer and richer with age. I would keep additional stock available for reheating though as it does become dry.

I used canned fava beans. which is what the recipe called for. although I considered cooking a batch of fava beans from dried. In future I think I would prefer to start with dried, even though it adds extra work and time to the dish. I find the fava beans that are cooked from dried have a silkier texture than canned favas. And really it is not that much work to cook a pot of beans and use them for multiple dishes, or even freeze the extra to have on hand for last minute inspirations.

Overall, this dish was very good. I felt it needed a creamy touch, so I added a bit of sheep’s milk feta with my beans and eggs. It may not need the creaminess of the cheese with home-cooked favas, but then, cheese is always a nice touch.

Based on these dishes, the book was a success and one that has earned a place on my shelves, if only for the eggplant m’tabbal. There are many things I want to cook, and including quite a few new ideas and explorations. The recipes themselves are winning my favor over, despite those design glitches. I hate to admit it, but I may never make those recipes, the ones on the pages that annoy me, simply due to my own grumpiness. But thee is a lot more in this book to explore.

I returned home from a trip to Texas to find my yard abloom with flowers.

It is not the biggest fall display ever, but rain and cooler temperatures have performed their magic. And at this point I am grateful for every blossom. I neglected the garden this year due to back issues and the fact that anything survived to bloom makes me very happy.

These photos were all taken in the late afternoon, when the sky was also overcast.

Every single blossom felt like a welcome home party.

I am inspired to get back to work. Well I was so inspired before I left but the extra encouragement doesn’t hurt.

These mums were an accident. I didn’t plant them, but I’ve happily left them in place, surrounded by cranesbill geraniums and azaleas.

I don’t have many yellows. These yellow mums are in a pot but they remind me to bring more yellow into the garden. The yellow coreopsis, “summer sunshine” which usually blooms for me in late September and October, only has scattered blooms this year, primarily because it needs to be divided. Of course, that process will spread their cheerful yellow joy across the yard.

And this azalea, which is has been in place three years, but struggled at first, is blooming for the first time.

Every year is a surprise.

Apologies for not writing.

I’ve been in Texas visiting my mom. Apparently I am not yet in full blogging mode as I still forget to take pictures of interesting things. Not that much has been interesting, aside from the happy (to me at least) arrival of autumnal weather.

I did something stupid the day I left Knoxville. I took Garbo for an early morning trip across the street, which is level and safe so I did not take a flashlight. But she wanted to head up the street at the end of my driveway, which is steep and has some sharp drops at the curb. Stupidly I let her, and tumbled off a curb. For a moment I thought I wasn’t going anywhere, but when I did get myself up I found that although I had obviously twisted an ankle, I could walk on it. Back at the house, I saw no obvious break. I did a squeeze test for a high ankle of fibula fracture, and palpated my ankle bone and common injury sites (Ottawa Rules) but the pain I had was elsewhere. That doesn’t mean I didn’t have a problem. But weight bearing was not an issue so I decided I probably didn’t need an x-ra at that time. Besides, it would be a couple of hours before a walk-in clinic opened, and I wanted to get as far west as possible before hitting a storm front, so I just packed the car and left, figuring that by driving I was at least not putting weight on my ankle.

By the time I got to Dallas, the next day, my ankle felt better. I did stay mostly off it for days. Initially I had no pain at the ankle itself, just in my foot, some swelling, no bruising, and little pain on weight bearing. I did have pain on flexion and extension, so I used an ace bandage and hobbled around with crutches and a borrowed knee roller for a few days.

I did start to have pain at my ankle bone late Wednesday, five days after the fall, but not on weight bearing. Mostly at night when my foot was not in neutral position, and yesterday driving. I think I should stop at the orthopedic walk-in clinic when I get back to Knoxville today. Despite my lack of pain, a small fracture is not out of the question. I have also developed bruising across the base of my toes, but I don’t really have pain there.

We will see if I have been terribly foolish, or just mildly so, later today. I’m actually surprised I am admitting to this.

The pumpkin photos are from a mall in Dallas. The weather was delightfully cool in the mornings and evenings, warm and breezy during the day. As I head east the weather is becoming cooler and I needed a sweatshirt this morning when Garbo and I were out.

I have delayed my departure until just post sunrise. I decided I would rather face the early morning glare on the relatively empty interstate than in Nashville traffic.

The breakfast at this hotel is awful though. The only eggs are overcooked, tough as leather and just as dry. The coffee is not bad. I’m glad I picked up these little prosciutto rolls as a travel option in case I couldn’t find anything healthy on the road. I’ve opted for charcuterie in the room for breakfast. But I am ready to be home, in my own kitchen. Garbo is ready as well.

Yesterday evening I came home from knitting to a little surprise.

There were little bits of foil and cardboard scattered around the entry hall, along with a somewhat guilty looking dog with a dental treat in her mouth.

At first I couldn’t figure out what had happened. I went to where the treats are usually kept, on a high shelf in the kitchen where Garbo has never ventured previously. But their storage container was intact.

But then I turned on the lights and discovered that there was a package on the floor at the entrance to the dining room. The cleaning ladies must have brought it in before they left.

Obviously it had once contained a bag of doggie dental chews, among other things.

I could only laugh.

Garbo knew those treats were in that box, and she, in very doggy fashion, figured out exactly where they were and how to get at them. Such a good dog! Meaning she was behaving exactly as any dog who smelled a treat would behave, how I would probably behave were I to find myself in the same circumstances.

Garbo knows not to grab food off counters (although she has been known to “forget”) but she also knows that if something is on the floor it is fair game. I never leave food, food containers, or food wraps, in open trash containers around the house.

The box was on the floor. Therefore it was fair game. I’m still laughing.

I belong to two cookbook clubs. They have been fun and helpful because I like to cook and I like to explore new tastes and techniques, but I live alone and often just fall into boring routine. By committing to cook something from a new book I feed a lifelong passion and encourage myself to have fun. I end up eating better as well.

In September, the Kitchen Arts and Letters cookbook club was cooking from two books.

The first, Simply Tomato, by Martha Holmberg ended the month strong although I was initially a bit wishy-washy about it. Holmberg is a cookbook writer and recipe developer who has worked with Joshua McFadden on his books, and I was familiar with those books. My own mixed feelings arose simply because, on my first perusal, the book looked like it was simply filled with variations on a lot of things I already make and eat. But I was determined to give the book a chance.

It is true that, for the most part, these are not earth-shatteringly new dishes. There is comfort in that. But Holmberg is also a talented recipe writer and the book is filled with small details about ingredients and technique that elevate each dish without adding loads of complexity to the execution. None of the recipes I tried are difficult. Everything I tried produced excellent results that had me thinking about familiar dishes in new ways.

So, the big Question, what did I make?

First up was a peach and tomato salad with a lime and ginger vinaigrette that was inspired by nuoc cham. . This was fabulous and my only complaint was that I used a yellow tomato which was good but not great. I have learned that although yellow tomatoes are good in a mixed salad, I generally prefer red tomatoes. That is just about my taste buds, and just as surely as I’ve said I don’t love yellow tomatoes, I’ll now find the perfect yellow tomato variety that I adore. Anyway peaches and tomatoes play very nicely together, and the vinaigrette adds a serious punch. I would not have imagined that fish sauce and peaches were such good partners.

I served the salad with a piece of cod that I baked with a topping of chopped up cooked broccoli, fennel pesto and mayonnaise. No recipe there, just the necessities of a fridge clean-out. It was delicious but not particularly photogenic.

Another salad combined watermelon, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers and feta in a smoky lime vinaigrette. The smoky lime vinaigrette was utterly fabulous and I would make it again and again to serve on a variety of salads. The salad itself was very good but it was just a salad, a salad with a fabulous dressing. I wish I had used English cucumbers, as recommended, rather than the Persian cucumbers that were in residence in my crisper drawer, as Persian cucumbers tend to be drier than the larger English variety. But it was still a good salad.

Next I made the “Tender Lamb Meatballs in Tomato Sauce with Fragrant Spices”. The meatballs were indeed quite tender, almost delicate, which was a nice to balance to their delicious lamb-forward flavor. The tomato sauce was also particularly good and, luckily for me, the solo diner, the dish improved overnight. The first day the dish was delicious. but I felt there was a bit of gentle sibling going on between the meatballs and their sauce. The dish was very good but nothing special.. The second day the flavors had melded marvelously into something compelling. My only other note is that though Holmberg mentions serving this with rice or other starches, I felt the rice felt wimpy with the meatballs, and I have enjoyed them much more with pasta, polenta or grits. (the latter a suggestion from someone in the cookbook club).

The final dish I made from the book was “Sheet Pan Chicken Thighs with Tomato Onion Compote”. This was utterly delicious and dead simple, a great dish to throw in the oven when one is just too tired to do anything more than just sit down and hope dinner materializes on its own. My chicken thighs were huge. over a pound per thigh, and they still ended up being tender and delicious.

This book has proven to be a great addition to my library and I am looking forward to trying more recipes. And this is, in the end, one of the great benefits of cookbook clubs. Club choices offer an opportunity to discover new ideas and new sources of inspiration that I would never have found on my own.

The second September book was Pesto by Leslie Lennox. The book is beautifully thought out and researched. It is filled with good ideas, but I remain. undecided as to whether or not it will take up permanent residence on my shelves. The book is an exploration of pesto, beyond basil, and it is filled with great ideas for creating different kinds of pestos using various herbs and vegetables. Despite the charts, and the various pesto recipes, there is little here that I find new, and I haven’t found the suggestions to be improvements on things I already make.

It is a great book for a newer cook, or a cook who hasn’t really used pesto beyond the classic Italian basil pesto and is interested in trying new variations on a pesto theme. I enjoyed reading the book and playing around with Lennox’s ideas, but aside from one recipe, which really is really an idea more than a recipe, there is nothing here that is expanding or changing what I already do in the kitchen.

The one thing I did make, and more than once at that, was the pesto stuffed burger, It is as simple as it sounds, a hamburger formed around a nice dollop of pesto. For the version used in the photo above I used fennel fond pesto, and topped the burger with sautéed onions. Pesto-stuffed burgers are a new favorite in my house, but I don’t really need a recipe.

I still have a few ideas flagged in this book, so I haven’t relinquished it yet, but my inclination is that although it was fun, it is not a book I will use. .