Roald Dahl's Revolting Recipes

Driving back from a playdate, Charlotte's friend Elise told her about a fantastic book involving cannibalism.  My ears perked up as I tried to figure out what book for 7 and 8 year olds could possibly tackle the distasteful subject of cannibalism.  She kept talking.  There were giants, and a little girl named Sophie.  And it dawned on me--I'd read that book as a child, The BFG  (Big Friendly Giant) by Roald Dahl.  We got the audio version, stuck it in the car, and for the next two weeks, every drive was a pleasure.  In fact, Charlotte would ask me every morning hopefully, "Do we have anywhere we need to drive to today?" Aria got into it too, though she kept falling asleep in the car.  We finished up reading the actual book at bedtime.  They are soooo excited about the upcoming BFG movie. 

 

I found out about the Roald Dahl cookbook, Roald Dahl's Revolting Recipes almost by accident, googling snozzcumbers but never expecting an entire cookbook.  As some of you may know, we occasionally make food from books.  This cookbook was a gold mine that came to our attention at the perfect time.  Charlotte received a boxed set of Roald Dahl books from her aunt and uncle for Christmas, and we have been happily working our way through it. Writing a cookbook was the last project the author had been working on before his death in 1990.  His wife and several other collaborators continued with the book, publishing it in 1997.  I'd missed it as a child (my peak Roald Dahl reading years were 1987-1989).   

We dove right in, making the BFG's least favorite meal (but his only non-human option), the snozzcumber.  Along with it we made the very tasty giant beverage, frobscottle.  Though they look appropriately disgusting, they are indeed delicious.  I had hor d'oeuvres similar to snozzcumbers, right down to the black poppy seeds, at a wedding reception.  We modified the recipe slightly, using feta cheese in place of popcorn for the white patches.  Frobscottle was the favorite, a carbonated drink made with kiwis and raspberry drinking yogurt (kefir). 

A few days later we made Bruce Bogtrotter's Chocolate Cake from Matilda.  We'd read the book the previous summer, one of our first chapter books that Aria was actively engaged in.  Both girls were actively involved in baking too.  I must say--it was an amazing chocolate cake.  Rich without being overwhelming, moist and flavorful, I can see why the Trunchbull ordered one every day.  Folding in whipped egg whites may be one of the keys to its success.    

  

We recently finished James and The Giant Peach, a favorite among favorites.  Ariadne kept asking to read it at bed time for a week after we'd finished.  She just wanted more and more.  It was a hit in my 3rd grade classroom too.  I vividly remember the entire class choosing to stay in from recess (and, I now realize, my teacher Joanne Toft choosing to skip her lunch) in order to finish the book one hot day in spring.  

We are about to set out on our next adventure--Charlie and the Chocolate factory, perhaps? After all, it would give me an excuse to make lickable wallpaper.  

Farewell, Minnesota Caucuses

I heard just the other day that Minnesota's governor, Mark Dayton, had signed into law the death of the MN Presidential Caucus.  It is with a heavy heart but great understanding that I bid them adieu. The 2015 caucuses were so well attended they were almost nonfunctional.  I wrote about my experience in blue (the most interesting part of the post). We need a change, but while a presidential primary increases access to the polls, there is also a loss.  I have been to not one, not two, but three different party's caucuses in my time as voting Minnesotan. (By the end of this post, you will have a rough understanding of my somewhat paradoxical--or perhaps evolving--political views.  Caucuses are color coded by party).

In college I attended the Green Party caucus.  It was small. It was exciting. Our presidential candidate was Ralph Nader.  I voted for him in the general election, not because I thought he could win, but because I believed int voting my conscience. And more importantly, because I wanted to secure third party status for the Green Party in Minnesota.  Having been raised in an elementary school community that was the first to recycle in its city, having dressed up as a fern for the earth day parade in 1991, having read 50 things Kids Can Do to Save the Planet, campaigned against furs on the playground and protested the first Gulf war with my classmates, the Green Party was a logical place for me to end up.  Or start off.  Deep down, I was extremely bothered by the two party system, and moreover, by the similarity between the two parties.  This lead me to vote for Ventura for governor in college.  This shocked my parents.  Our family ended up splitting the ticket three ways.  The state was shocked when we woke up to a former WWF wrestler as governor.  

Fast forward several years and I found myself in a Republican caucus excited about Ron Paul.  I have a deep libertarian streak, and his message appealed to that.  He was straight talking and earnest, concerned about the country, and had a concrete plan.  The same part of me that was all fired up about Ross Perot at 12 was pulling for Ron Paul at 28.  I covered his Minnesota rally as a reporter (no bias people, I promise).  It was an amazing display of political passion by people from across the country, united by a common interpretation of the US constitution and the heady feeling that they could make a difference.  

This last year on Super Tuesday I went where I probably always really belonged--the DFL caucus.  I didn't even know I was going until after the kids and I left swimming lessons at 6:30 that evening. Caucuses started at 7:00.  Once again, I felt obliged to vote my conscience.  Though Hillary felt inevitable, and I really wanted to get behind a female candidate for president, my ideology was more aligned with Bernie.  Along with the majority of Democrats in my state, I voted for Bernie Sanders.

If caucuses were only about voting for candidates, there would be no question that primaries would be the way to go.  But for political engagement, caucuses are where its at.  And that is why I am sad to see them go.  Far from just checking a box or pulling a lever in a voting machine, I got to get a sense of where (half of) my community stands politically.  I got a sense of where they were headed, and I got to put in my two cents if I so chose.

All around the metro, there was a caucus traffic jam, easily doubling what should have been a short trip. Over a mile before reaching the sprawling suburban high school that served as our caucus site, cars lined both sides of the road.  Families with strollers and baby carriers walked along the state highway, stumbling over the suburban lawns or skirting the parked cars, ignoring the lack of sidewalk.  

When I reached the high school lines snaked through the halls.  Candidates manned their tables and workers ran back and forth with extra ballots.  Voters moved back and forth between lines so long they merged into each other, trying to land in the right classroom for their precinct.  It was bustling.  Beyond busting.  My precinct had such a high turn out they ran out of ballots entirely.  In the end they passes out scrap paper and pens, asking people to write down the name of who they wanted for president and skip the rest.  

When I reached the classroom holding the actual caucus, I hesitated, thought 'I've come this far, oh, why not?' and ducked inside.  I pulled out my knitting and mostly listened. Motions on the the environment passed with surprising speed 'first, second, passed', 'first, second, passed', forwarding positions that would have been very at home in the mostly defunct Green Party of my youth.  Workers' rights and family leave came up.  After brief discussion, the positions were supported.  

And then the surprise.  Plural marriage.  Yep, you heard right.  All the right wing people who claimed legalizing gay marriage was a slippery slope that would lead to polygamy--well, um--maybe you were right?? Or maybe this has been going on all along and these people are just looking for the same basic rights the rest of us have.  Perhaps, above all, they are worried about the security of their children. Maybe polygamy is not the right term.  Maybe it is polyamory.  What is the difference?? (I'm still working on that).  Could such a relationship between people be truly equitable? Would legalizing such a relationship protect rights or infringe upon them? Would there be a limit to the number of wives or husbands a person could have?  Would everyone have to consent to adding a new spouse? Right or wrong, the woman who brought up the motion was incredibly brave. What followed was one of the most interesting political (and indeed cultural) discussions I've ever heard in my life.  I even found myself raising my hand to ask questions.  In the end, our moderator called a vote, correctly declaring that we could debate the topic all night.  It did not pass, but it was close.  The younger voters tended to vote yes, older no.  

So--what would this eye-opening night have been like if Minnesota did not have a caucus?  Would I have checked the box for Bernie and rushed home, unaware of my neighbors commitment to the environment, support of family leave, and disagreement on revolutionary family arrangements? Probably.  But the part I will miss most in a Minnesota without caucuses is the opportunity to bring up my topic, whatever that might be in the future, and put it forward as a possible direction for a major political party.  I will miss the sense of empowerment that we are deciding, my neighbors and I, right now.  We will take our country in the direction we believe is best, one neighborhood, one precinct, at a time. And while I hear that caucuses for 'party building' will still be allowed, I fear most people will decide that it is not for them, only some imaginary party elite, missing out on how empowering democrary can be.