I’m living more of a Little House on the (Urban) Prairie life these days, but when I was a kid, I didn’t want prairies, chores, or family togetherness. I was looking for the entrance into a magical world, like the Pevensie kids found to get into Narnia, or perhaps a cyclone to take me into Oz.

Quentin, the main character of Lev Grossman’s Magicians trilogy, was, like me, obsessed with finding his way into magical worlds-- but unlike me, he manages to do it. After that, the books are chock-full of unpredictable pleasures. Quentin flies to Antarctica as a goose, makes deals with a dragon, takes a voyage in a magical boat to the end of the world, and lives through what I believe is the best post-breakup smackdown in literary history. Finally, In The Magician’s Land, the third and last book of the series, which came out this year, he stops being kind of a jerk and turns into a man.

Excuse me for a moment while I push past the coats into this big old wardrobe. Feel free to check out my list of genre-bending fantasy novels while I’m gone. 
 

I was forever waiting for this one, first on the hold list and then once I found a copy of my own, I still waited to read it. Why? I suppose I have read so many duds of late, I was loathe to even pick it up. Here we go again, I thought, another flapper fiasco. It’s going to be trite, it’s going to be a slog. But I started reading it and tra la! It sparkled!

We have Rose, our unreliable narrator—and who doesn’t love an unreliable narrator—and Odalie. Both are typists for the New York Police Department in the 1920s and both are keeping secrets. Surely one of these fine ladies must be genuine...

Wanting to add to your cocktail expertise?  Or maybe you are interested in the history of spirited beverages? Perhaps you just wonder what your literary hero drank?  If you said yes to any of these questions then I have the list for you.  My coworker Jeanne has been studying cocktail and spirited beverage history for awhile now, and she gathered together this list of wonderful books for you.

Before learning that I had a Dutch great-grandfather, I wasn't particularly interested in the Netherlands.  Since then, though, I have taken a trip to Holland, found a new appreciation for Edam cheese, and read a number of books about the place.

Two excellent novels published in 2014 are set in 17th century Amsterdam. The Miniaturist by Jessie Burton follows the first months of Nella Oortman's marriage to Johannes Brandt, a wealthy merchant who is rarely around.  He pays scant attention to her when she arrives at his home in Amsterdam after a very brief marriage ceremony months earlier in her own town.  Weeks after her arrival, Nella is still waiting for Johannes to come to the marriage bed.  Roaming around a big house with two servants and her dour sister-in-law and only rarely seeing her husband is not how she thought marriage would be.  In order to make up for his inattention, Johannes purchases a wildly expensive dollhouse, or cabinet, for Nella to furnish that is an exact miniature replica of their home. When the furniture and dolls begin arriving from the miniaturist, Nella becomes intrigued (and slightly concerned).  The miniaturist sends objects that Nella has not requested and seems to know things that only someone living in the merchant's house would know!

The Anatomy Lesson by Nina Siegal is told by several people who were involved in the story of Rembrandt's painting, The Anatomy Lesson of Nicolaes Tulp. This exquisitely told tale throws us right into the day Adriaen Adriaenszoon (aka Aris the Kid and - spoiler alert - the corpse in the painting) is hanged for being a thief. As the events of the day unfold, we see Rembrandt working in his studio, Aris contemplating his life, and Aris's lover making her way to Amsterdam in order to try and save him or at least bring his body home if he cannot be rescued.  French philosopher Rene Descarte and Jan Fetchet, the man charged with preparing the body for the anatomy lesson, also make appearances.  I was so absorbed in the novel that when I looked up from my e-reader, I was surprised to find that I wasn't walking out in the cold, flat Dutch countryside or on a canal in the middle of Amsterdam.  I was, however, happy to be secure in my home knowing that I didn't have to face the hangman or figure out how to paint a hand on a corpse that was missing one!

For more books - both fiction and non-fiction - about the Netherlands, check out this list.

When I was a little girl, I loved to sit with my great grandpa and put together jigsaw puzzles. He told me:” first you turn over the pieces, and separate out those that belong in the frame. Once the frame is put together, then sort the pieces into colors and  put the picture together.”

Reading a mystery by Kate Atkinson is like following that advice in reverse. First, she dumps the pieces of her stories in a big, dramatic heap: murders, kidnappings, mistaken identity, loyalty, country music, lost dogs, little sisters, misunderstood characters. Then, slowly, she turns over the pieces one by one and fits them together until the whole picture begins to emerge. Private detective Jackson Brody is a major piece in that picture. However, until the frame is in place and the picture is clear and bright, the reader isn’t quite sure. Brody  seems to be the hero, but….sometimes he seems to be the problem too.

Then she gives the reader side pieces that  begin to put together the frame.  Here is a train wreck that brings several characters of the story together; here is a dog that Brody rescues and then finds his owner was a mafia thug; here is a retired police detective who spontaneously steals a child and doesn’t know what to do with her.  Closer and closer we get, piece by piece the picture becomes sharper, the colors fit together- and out pops the picture-  in a way that could never be seen at the beginning.

One more thing about putting a puzzle together with my great grandpa is this:  My great grandma always snuck a few pieces out and hid them in her apron pocket. Kate Atkinson does that too. The pieces that are  missing belong to Jackson Brody’s own personal puzzle. When will she put them in place? I can’t wait for her next book- maybe it will be the one that finally puts the whole puzzle of his past together.

I understand your hesitation.

I thought about making preserved lemons for years before I actually did it. You have to pack them into jars, then let them sit and ferment for weeks before you can cook with them. Who plans like that?

I do, now. Once I made them, using Eugenia Bone’s recipe from the book Well Preserved, I found that I can’t live without them, especially after I discovered this kale Caesar salad. Sadly, I do think you have to make your own. I bought a couple of different brands from my favorite Middle Eastern market, and the purchased ones tasted like a cleaning product.

Use Meyer lemons, which are in season right now-- they’re a little sweeter and have a delicious floral quality. And really, all you need are lemons and salt and some clean jars. You quarter the lemons and stuff them in a jar with several tablespoons of salt, then pour in enough fresh-squeezed lemon juice to fill up the jars. There’s no need to process them. Just let them sit on your counter for three or four weeks until the sour, salty, faintly funky magic happens. You eat the whole lemon-- the peel is especially delicious. Eugenia Bone (can you tell I love that name?) suggests a couple of great ways to use them in this book, but I mostly use them in that kale salad and in tuna salad.

You can find a recipe for the lemons here , but do take a look at the book. Bone has ideas for lots of very special things to preserve in small batches, perfect for a novice or an experienced canner, including some things that would make nice holiday gifts.
 

Terminal City! Vansterdam!  Saltwater City! No Fun City! Hollywood North!

Aka... Vancouver, British Columbia! I had the privilege to visit this fair metropolis a couple months ago, and it was a ball. It’s similar to Portland in a lot of ways (there’s a Vancouver bar called Portland Craft, “inspired by the Portland food scene”) and different in a lot of ways, too (Vancouver has roughly the same population as Portland, but it’s about three times as dense). I discovered, among many other things, that Vancouverites like to light off fireworks on Halloween, and that combining a video arcade with a retro-XXX peep show is apparently something that can happen and then exist for 40+ years.

Before I went on my trip, I did what I always do whenever starting something new: I check out every single library item that exists on the subject. Here’s my list of some of the best books to learn about that city and its citizens. Did I miss anything? Let me know!