Author: Moriah

Comfort food: Marinara sauce

Moriah

I make this with different measurements all the time because A) it depends on what I have on hand; B) I never measure; and C) I can’t be arsed to write it down. This is how I made it today, and all measurements are approximate:

3 lb hamburger
1 diced yellow onion
1 T minced garlic (I use the stuff in the jars)
salt
pepper
1/4 c basil (dried)
1/2 c oregano (dried)
1/2 c parsley (dried)

Fry all that up together, then drain off the grease.

5 4-oz cans mushroom pieces and stems (with water)
2 cans tomato sauce
5 cans tomato paste
water to make it the consistency you like

Mix all that up really well, let simmer for a while with the lid on it. On low, you could keep it on the stove all day if you wanted. The idea is to let the herbs steep. I’ll add more oregano* once I get it stirred up, as I like oregano. Lots.

Serve on whatever shaped of pasta (cooked) that you like.

If I have stewed tomatoes on hand, I’ll use those. If I have whole tomatoes on hand, I’ll blanch, peel, and use those. I don’t use olive oil because I think the beef provides all the oil necessary, and I’m not a fan of olive oil anyway.

As we all know, this is a heavy dish. When I’m low-carbing, I can have a bowl of it for breakfast (yes, I said breakfast) without the pasta (with parmesan) and I won’t have to think about eating again until bedtime. No matter how much I love it, though, I will never get over thinking it’s weird to eat it without the pasta.

It freezes well, and one of these days, if I ever get around to learning how to can, this is the first thing I’m going to can.

*Went to a Mexican restaurant where they loaded their salsa with oregano. WTF? I went for Mexican food, not Italian. A little was good. A lot was not better.

Organization: the neverending quest

Moriah

This is my office right now:

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It doesn’t look organized, but it is. It’s organized two ways, and one is more effective than the other.

You see, the (1) clutter demands attention and for good reason: It’s important. Stuff I have to do. Stuff that, if I file it neatly away in the (2) three-ring to-do binder buried underneath all that mess, I will forget about and never do and screw up my life.

The goal is to not screw up my life.

But what about filing? you ask. Eh. Filing is for stuff you have to keep but rarely use: tax returns, vendor catalogs, vehicle and health and vet information. Stuff like that. If I had my ’druthers, I’d be able to stick it all in a file box like the one I keep my year’s tax receipts in after I’ve entered the bucket full of receipts into Quicken.

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What about tossing? you ask. Yeah, what you’re looking at is after having ruthlessly tossed and shredded. Trust me, I get rid of whatever I can the minute I lay hands on it and determine it’s worthless to me.

So after ruthlessly tossing-and-shredding, and piling things on my desk in a way that will remind me of its importance, the best way I’ve discovered to not screw up my life and still stay clutter-free is to hang all the important stuff up on the wall.

This demands cork. Or steel/whiteboards magnets. Something. Just get it off my effing desk! I want elbow room and work space. Throw in some effective cord management.

Stylishly.

I want style.

Because there is no style here. I can stick pins in the sheetrock all day long and it’ll do the trick, but I want some style. Martha Stewart Living style. Only more realistic. And cheaper.

So what I’m working on in my organizational efforts is to find a stylish way to hang all my stuff on the walls where I can see it at a glance without boxing myself into a stylish but useless and expensive space.

But I can’t even decide on a paint color.

Asking Us to Dance (Kathy Mattea)

Moriah

Week 3 of the group creative experiment was over a week and a half ago, and I think we were all running out of steam by then. I was supposed to post this on April 21, but that was my birthday. Dude took me out for a nice dinner and a really cute movie (Death at a Funeral, in case you were wondering) and, frankly, I was too tired to do the wrapup. And then I got busy.

It was just me and Astrid this week. Here we go:

Astrid Cruz aka @artistikem “Ghost”: Oh. My. Goodness. That gave me chills. Y’all MUST read this.

And so here’s what it did for me: Chapter 34, Stay, “A Good Crop of Wheat.”

Thank you!

“Clean” does not equal good.

Moriah

I want to talk about LDS fiction, the kind Deseret Book and Covenant and Cedar Fort publish.

This is not a rant. I’m not being sarcastic, nasty, snarky, hateful, bitter, or any other pejorative one might chalk up to my tone. Whatever one might read into it, what I’m feeling right now is a deep sense of disappointment.

I have several LDS novels in my bookshelf by well-known LDS niche authors. There are two I have tried to start, but while the premises are interesting, they aren’t exactly my cuppa. The prose is adequate. They aren’t boring. I put them aside for when I’m in the mindset to read them.

This past week I started a book that’s right up my alley: contemporary romance. I was really looking forward to reading this book. Imagine my dismay when I started reading prose that is amateurish at worst, and at best, suited for 12-year-old girls. It is a series of choppy sentences strung together. There is no discernible rhythm to it. There is no ebb and flow. The dialogue is stilted and too infodumpy about LDS customs and rituals, which made me wonder for whom the book was intended, if not LDS. (We already know this stuff; don’t instruct us in our own culture.) There is no nuance, no allowance for a sophisticated reader, no subtext.

At the convergence of this post on the Association for Mormon Letters blog by Annette Lyon concerning the “clean”ness of books and an inability to find any clean romances in the national marketplace* and my soul-deep disappointment in the book I was struggling with (“soul-deep” is not hyperbole), I realized that LDS fiction needs to stop worrying about a book’s “clean”ness, because that’s the default position, and start concentrating on eradicating (sub)mediocrity.

 

 

*I’m not sure why it’s important, noteworthy, or desirable to have LDS fiction without LDS characters or anything relatable to the culture. You can get “clean” non-LDS fiction in the national marketplace. You cannot get LDS fiction in the national marketplace. If you’re gonna be niche, be niche.