Category Archives: Jean Zimmerman

February 9, 2012 · 5:53 pm

Sweet Jane

Coming to watch the first season of Deadwood for the first time, I am amazed by  Calamity Jane — and the performance of the actress, Robin Weigert, who plays her. By turns truculent and tender, sloppy drunk and nurturing, she is the most complex character I’ve seen on TV in a while, even on HBO. Dresses like a man, falls in love like a woman. Out-Nobbs Albert Nobbs. Superb horsewoman and crack shot, she cusses with more conviction than anyone else on the show, and that’s saying something.

Was the real Jane, Martha Jane Cannary, anything like the cable version? Let’s look at something from Jane’s diary, written in the 1890s:

“On occasions of that kind, the men would usually select the best places to cross the streams; myself, on more than one occasion, have mounted my pony and swam across the stream several times merely to amuse myself, and have had many narrow escapes from having both myself and pony washed away to certain death, but, as the pioneers of those days had plenty of courage, we overcame all obstacles and reached Virginia City in safety.”

The Legend

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Filed under Fiction, History, Jean Zimmerman

February 8, 2012 · 6:58 pm

Beauty and Comfort

My very first copy of Love, Fiercely arrived today by express mail, deposited beneath the tree at the top of the driveway, and it is more beautiful than I imagined it would be: buffed and burnished, fern green and warm black and gold. It looks to be the perfect size to slip into the pocket of an old corduroy jacket. I don’t know that I have to read it, having read it so many times in the course of writing it, but I’m tempted to, it just looks so nice.

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Filed under Jean Zimmerman, Love, Fiercely

February 7, 2012 · 11:21 am

A Mouse House

A draft nipped at my ankles as I crossed the living room. A friend found the reason for the increased ventilation — a hole that went clear through from the inside to outside the house at ankle level. Chinks are a way of life in the cabin, and we compensate for drafts with great roaring fires in the grate. We cleaned out the ashes the other day and I thought of the people on Downton who have the responsibility to keep the hearth spit shined. Luckily ours can remain as ashy as we want. “Then we’ll sweep out the ashes in the morning” — Emmylou Harris.

Nibbler

Chinks mean critters. We knew the mice had returned when we found a big, slimy chipotle pepper pulled out of an open can and dragged halfway across the counter, where consultations were held and the vegetable was rejected. Rather than learning not to leave food there I put a plate of shortbread overnight near what seemed to be their entrance/egress. Next morning, crumbs abounded, thrown around as if during a party. Rodents of course make no distinction between our home and theirs — aside from believing that ours is preferable because here they are safe from hungry hawks.

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Filed under Home, Jean Zimmerman, Nature

February 6, 2012 · 3:25 pm

The Real McSoy

Went to the local sushi place for lunch. Not bad but not good  either. We’re having sushi overload out here in the heartland.

Toro Sushi

I saw a film once about the Japanese approach to sushi, and it said that sushi aficionados

do not dredge the piece in soy sauce rice side down — that’s an insult to the flavor of the sushi, but fish side down.

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Filed under Cooking, Jean Zimmerman

February 5, 2012 · 2:58 pm

Brown Paper Packages Tied Up With Strings

I have always loved the idea of the favorite. Everyone has a favorite flavor (vanilla or chocolate is one of the first distinctions we’re asked to make as children) or a favorite color, sometimes a favorite book or song or poem. It’s the most simple, basic way we define ourselves.

I especially like the favorite birthday cake, because it is longstanding and personal and sentimental. Will you please make me my favorite birthday cake this year?

I joined my old friend to celebrate her birthday and her mother made her longtime request: angel food cake with a custard filling and warm chocolate sauce poured over the top.

Basically an improved Boston Cream Pie. This piece has tumbled over slightly but you can see how luscious it is.

In my family we have a favorite, too: Strawberry Cake. It comes from my Tennessee grandmother’s collection of recipes, and visually and taste-wise is a shock to the senses.

Secret Ingredient: Jello

Strawberry Cake

One package white cake mix

One tablespoon flour

One package strawberry gelatin

Three-fourths cup vegetable oil

One half cup water

One half cup frozen strawberries, thawed til mushy

Mix cake mix, flour and jello. Add oil, water and strawberries. Lastly, add one at a time four eggs, beating after each addition.

Divide batter into two nine inch pans, well greased and floured. Bake at 350 degrees for 25-30 minutes

For the icing, blend one-fourth pound butter (or margarine, in my grandmother’s recipe), one box confectioners sugar and one half cup thawed, mashed up strawberries.

Some of your guests will demand seconds. Others will run away from the table. Your teeth will ache and you will fall over with sugar shock. It is the most artificial looking cake in the world, and the most delicious.

That is, if it’s your favorite.

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Filed under Cooking, Jean Zimmerman

February 4, 2012 · 3:05 pm

At the Met

Visited the new American Wing at the Metropolitan today to pay homage to Edith and Newton in all their glory. They looked great. Mr. and Mrs. I.N. Phelps Stokes was not exactly causing a stir but I did notice some wise people going up and admiring it.

Newton and Edith

Two elderly women stand behind me. One murmurs, “An American girl.”

She gets it.

On the other hand, the painting suffers by proximity to Sargent’s so-popular Madame X. Two young men pull up behind me as I admire her lavender shoulders. “This is IT,” says one.

I’d like to hear that said of Edith, with her preternatural glow and straight-shooting gaze.

Maybe when people read Love, Fiercely (out six weeks from now) someone will say that.

In any case, dwarfing both canvases and hung between them is Sargent’s gargantuan doily of a painting that depicts the three Wyndam sisters.

Ladies in White

It gives an idea of how female perfection was conceived at the end of the 19th century, white and light and delicate. Take another look at Edith to see how vastly different she is. Instead of chiffon, cotton pique. No lavish peonies. A boater! A bow tie. Revolution comes to Gilded Age America.

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Filed under Art, Jean Zimmerman, Love, Fiercely