Beef: It's What's for Dinner BEFORE Plum Cake

The four Rs: Recipes, writing, recommendations, and revelry

I had so much fun hearing from people who made the Late Summer Plum Cake from my last newsletter--thanks for reporting on your success with it, Jane Medved (whom I met in Jerusalem, where I was lucky enough to visit last year—what a fascinating country) and Jennie Burke (whom I met in a zoom writing class I taught), and instantly adored). Jennie gets extra credit for sending photos! Here is her gorgeous cake:

So now I’ll share another favorite, what might precede the plum cake! To fully appreciate the marvelousness of this recipe, I’ll have to tell you why this recipe is so important to me: it is my sons’ FAVORITE meal, as I confess in this poem that won the Winning Writers’ Humor Contest. You could read it or I could read it to you:

Now, don’t you want to make a recipe that occasions such excess and won $2,000? I thought so. (And you’ll write and tell me about it, or send a photo, no? Though we might need for it to get a bit cooler first).

I must clarify that while I call it beef bourguignon, it’s technically a Provencal beef daube. There are plenty of people who think that’s a huge distinction. See Beef daube vs. bourguignon. I’m not one of those people. Here’s the recipe on-line, though I originally found it years ago in Cooking Light.

What’s great about this recipe? It’s makes a delicious rich beefy-tomato gravy that you will want to bathe in. Like, when I die, send me out on a Viking ship on a lake of this gravy. Also, if you’re entertaining, it’s something you make early and forget about (you can even make it in your Instantpot—sear the beef and then use the slow cooker function). I love to entertain but want to be CALM when guests arrive, so I love dishes that need little last-minute prep. And, this tastes better the second day! IF, that is, there are any leftovers. In my house, that’s unlikely.

Writing Advice from Somebody Smarter than Me

My tendency is to say YES to things—to social invitations, to work opportunities, to people (especially students) who need help. I’ll get an email from someone who wants to “pick my brain about publication ideas” or have a coffee and I’ll think, “Well, I don’t have anything planned that afternoon—might as well say yes.”

And that’s why I have THIS on my desk:

I have to continually remind myself to guard well my spare moments.  To clear room in my imaginative life, to insert place holders for day dreams, to bask in the place where art comes from. 

Where does art come from?  So often from simply being attentive to our moments of being.  After all, our attention is a form of homage. 

Sometimes I want and need to say yes to the freelance article, the interview with the podcaster, the coffee date with the uncertain student. But sometimes I’m saying yes to things I’d rather say no to—a freelance article that my heart isn’t invested in, usually. If I’m being honest, I’m scared to say No—scared to say no to any opporunity, in case the opportunities dry up—who am I to turn down work? Or I accept because I remember how broke I was in grad school and can’t believe I’d turn down (fairly) easy money now. Or I accept the busy work because it spares me from the fear that I can’t do the heart work: I want a silly puff deadline on those days that “real” writing is about as easy as licking my own elbow. 

Emerson’s quote empowers me to bet on myself.  If I say no, I can spend the spare moments differently, and maybe they will polish up into diamonds.

The more we believe in ourselves, the more we’re worth other people believing in us.

What I’m Reading

Novel: Ann Patchett’s Tom Lake (good Lord she was amazing at the MS Book Festival. I love her so hard. Doesn’t she want to be my BFF?) . Poetry: Anders Carlson-Wee’s Disease of Kings. Random: No Nonsense Buddhism for Beginners (I’m trying to be a better person. It’s not working).

Love for the Back List

I bet I’m not alone among writers in always favoring my most recent book. But it’s nice when a book from the back list gets a shout out. LitHub had a cool article by Jessica Hendry Nelson called “What to Read When You’re Expecting” that placed my Great With Child among some nice company (Louise Erdrich! Camille Dungy! Maggie Nelson,! etc.).

And the same week, The Rumpus included my second book of poetry in their list of What to Read When You’re Seeking Wonder in Times of Grief, again with great company (Ross Gay! Tacy K. Smith! Etc).

“Love’s impossible grace.” I like that.

And on that note, I’ll send you out with a kiss.

A painting I came across in Stuttgart, where I’ve been lucky enough to go with my husband, Tom Franklin, as his novel Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter was chosen as the Abitur in Southern Germany (the novel students studying English read and discuss). This is his last year to be the Abitur, but they are bringing us back one last time in January, and I’ll revisit this painting and others I love. Here’s your kiss, painted by Vivian Greven, born 1985. Pucker up, friends, and see you next time!