Recipes for a Gluten-Free Indian meal

Finally, some of the recipes from my Facebook photos are getting blogged!

My approach to learning how to cook has basically been "Oh my lord I'm craving (random dish I ate at a restaurant)! Woe is me, for I can no longer eat at restaurants . . . But wait a second, maybe there is a recipe!" And for the most part, this strategy has worked. The recipes here are all super-simple and quite similar - once you've made one you've basically made them all.

For anyone curious, I am currently following a "strict gluten-free" diet, which means I must ensure that not a single crumb or molecule of gluten enters my body. This means keeping my dishes separate from those of my gluten-eating family, inspecting all surfaces for signs of crumbs or flour, and checking each and every ingredient in my to make sure that it has no gluten ingredients or contamination. For anyone reading this who is also on a strict-GF diet, I include details about the brands I use which I believe are fairly safe.

And, without further ado, my GF take on a vegetarian Indian meal: spiced basmati rice with peas, black bean dahl, and brocolli-chickpea curry!

Indian Style Basmati Rice

Ingredients

• 1 cup Basmati rice
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 2 cloves
• 1 teaspoon cumin seeds
• 1 small onion, diced
• 1 teaspoon sea salt (or to taste)
• 2 cups water or vegetable stock
• 1 cup frozen peas  

Directions

1. Place the rice in a large bowl and add enough water to cover. Stir the rice, pour off the water, and repeat until the water runs clear.
2. Heat the oil over medium heat. Add the spices (cinnamon, cloves, and cumin seeds) and cook for about one minute. Add the onion and half of the salt and cook until it starts to brown. Add the rice cook for about a minute, until the rice is lightly toasted. Add the water or vegetable stock and the peas and bring the mix to a boil. Lower the heat to a simmer, cover, and cook for another 15 minutes, until all the liquid has been absorbed. Fluff with a fork and serve.

Black Bean Dahl

Ingredients

• 1 can (15 oz) organic black beans, drained
• 1 tablespoons olive oil
• 1/2 medium onion
• 1 garlic clove, minced
• 1 teaspoon cumin seeds
• 1 teaspoon turmeric
• 1 teaspoon grated fresh ginger
• 1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves
• 1/4 cup water, vegetable stock, or chicken stock

Directions

1. Heat the olive oil in a thick-bottomed frying pan or wok. Add the cumin seeds and stir for about a minute. Add the onion and garlic and saute until they start to brown. Add the black beans, turmeric, ginger, and cilantro. Let the mixture simmer, stirring frequently, for about 10 minutes, adding small amounts of water, vegetable stock, or chicken stock to retain moisture, until it is fully heated and the flavors blended. Serve with rice and enjoy!

Chickpea-Broccoli Curry

Ingredients

• 4 cups broccoli or cauliflowerets (or a mix)
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 1 large carrot, diced
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 2 teaspoons shredded fresh gingerroot
• 1 teaspoon cumin seeds
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 4 whole cloves
• 1 teaspoon turmeric
• 1 (15 oz) can chickpeas, drained
• 1 cup frozen peas
• 1/4 cup water, chicken stock, or vegetable stock
  

Directions

1. Heat the olive oil in a thick-bottomed frying pan or wok. Add the cumin seeds and cloves and stir for about a minute. Add the onion, carrot, and garlic and saute until they start to become tender. Add the chickpeas, peas, brocolli, and water/stock. Lower flame to low, cover, and let the mixture simmer, stirring frequently, for about 10 minutes, until the brocolli is tender. Serve with rice and enjoy! 

Strict-GF Ingredients*

• Lundberg brand rice (I also heard Thai Kitchen is very safe)
• McCormick spices (they will always disclose gluten ingredients, which is not always true of spices, especially mixes)
• Bird's Eye green peas
• Eden Organic black beans (I read that they DO process in a facility that also contains wheat, but they also perform periodic testing to prevent contamination - if anyone knows a better brand, let me know!)
• Imagine brand stock (I heard that Swanson's is GFCO certified)

* I obviously can't guarantee that any of these are completely safe from gluten, but after doing some research I found these to be the best options.

Gluten-Free Dreaming, Part II: The Baguette

(see gluten-free dreaming, part I)

In a dream I visited and old house, filled with secret nooks and passageways. The girl who inhabited this house was a warm host with a comforting nature, and had filled all of it's spare corners with freshly baked bread.

While descending a swirly flight of stairs I found, tucked into the wall beside a stained glass window, a small cubby filled with baguettes. Each of the baguettes had been cleanly sliced in half, and a slight steam grew from their puffy innards. Staring at that faint fog, I, forgetting for a moment who I was, took a hearty piece of baguette in my hands and bit off a piece of the soft, crispy dough.

Next thing I knew I was in the bathroom, rinsing the offending crumbs from my mouth.

Say Yes to the Bike

"You know Dad, shopping for a bike is a lot like shopping for a wedding dress."

"What!?" my Dad asked. He was not particularly thrilled with the comparison.

I will admit it. Like most women, I secretly enjoy watching “Say Yes to the Dress.” The ridiculous dresses, the ridiculous budgets, and, most importantly, the moment when a bride puts on “the perfect dress” and starts to cry; whether you cry along with her (in the case of cancer survivors or heroic military officers) or laugh hysterically that she has decided to drop $20,000 on what amounts to a white hooker outfit.

Dad has been talking about getting me a new road bike for a couple of years now, but it wasn't until my medical leave that we actually got around to picking one out. And yes, it is true: bicycle shopping is very similar to wedding dress shopping - at least to the extent that "Say Yes to the Dress" is a true representation of reality. You walk into a bike shop, chat with a sales associate about what you are looking for (entry level endurance road bike), he performs a bunch of arcane and somewhat awkward measurements on your body (including sticking a wooden dowel near your crotch to measure your inseam), makes somewhat interesting yet largely irrelevant remarks on the geometry of your body ("you have a long torso and broad shoulders for a girl") and then scampers off to find some bikes.

And then, you get to ride them. What could possibly be better than riding out the door of a bike shop on a shiny new road bike with no reason to ever come back - except the prospect of testing another? Trying on wedding dresses, you say? Certainly not!

Despite my not-so-secret enthusiasm for the "Say Yes to the Dress", I have always been skeptical of the climatic moment of the show. How could anyone be sure that, out of the thousands of wedding dresses out there, this particular dress was “the one”?

That is, until I met the perfect bike:

The Surly Pacer

Isn't this just the sexiest bike you have ever seen? The solid dark green frame. The drop handle bars. The CroMoyl steel frame. It's hipster without being too hipster, the nerdy dedication to speed of a road bike mixed with some city sleek. I love this bike! I love how the steel frame makes the ride feel smooth as gliding through the water on a canoe. I love how the position of the handlebars actually helps my shoulders relax.

And to drive the point home, here is a fun little shot the Surly taken with my new Holga 135:

Surly Pacer, Holga-fied

Artemis will still be my commuter/grocery bike, but I am thrilled to have a real road bike for weekend riding and fun trips. And, lame as it is, looking forward to getting out on my new bike has been one of the bright points of the difficult last few months.

That's right: I said Yes to the Bike, and it was awesome.

P.S. Still thinking of names! The current front-runner is Apollo, twin brother to Artemis. Any other ideas?

Addendum: For those interested (based on Madeline's comment below), it is a 50 cm frame and fits me *perfectly*. The stand-over height is just right and I feel no strain in my shoulders or back when I'm on it, despite the road bike geometry. The steel makes it a little heavy but incredibly comfortable and smooth - I feel just as stable on it as on Artemis. Perfect for long weekend rides on the crappy roads out in Boston, which is it's primary purpose!

My new slogan

Kara Jean . . .

                    . . . falling asleep with books on her head since 1987.

I know where all the lost socks go

See, I have this odd little habit of removing my socks while I sleep - especially those little ankle ones that go so well with converse and sneakers. I was first made aware of this a few years ago on a trip home to visit my parents: "You're only wearing one sock!" my mom said one morning while I stared at the gurgling coffee maker. "Is that some kind of fashion statement?"

"I have no idea" I replied.

I imagined myself at night, sitting bolt upright in the middle of a dream and, zombielike, ripping one sock off in a fit of panic and flinging it across the room.

The reality, I've found, is a little less interesting. It seems I am a bit of a nighttime thrasher, and the action of my feet rubbing against the sheets often pulls my little ankle socks right off.

Now what does my silly sock removal story have to do with the universal anomaly of disappearing socks?

Foreseeing some degree of sock hemorrhage, I packed every single sock I could find for my stay at home. However, once I arrived in Minneapolis, they started disappearing at an alarming rate. My 10 pair population of ankle socks dwindled to 8 pairs, then 5 pairs and two unmatched, then 3 pairs and 4 unmatched, until finally I found myself with one maroon sock, one black sock, one dark green sock, one light green sock, and one faded yellow sock. An uneven number of socks, all in clashing colors.

"You're wearing two different colored socks!" my mom said as I made lunch one afternoon, "is that some kind of fashion statement?"

It was not.

I went to Target and bought some new socks, all the while wondering why a mere two months at home was enough to ravage my dwindling sock population.

In a frenzy of cleaning following the Great Centipede Invastion of 2011 (oh yeah, it was bad) I found the answer. While vacuuming under the bed, I started to hear a strange noise coming from the nozzle. Pulling it out, what do I find but a maroon sock - the maroon sock I hadn't seen in over two months. Peering under the bed, there they all are, a little cornucopia of socks, all lined up on the floor between my bed frame and my bookshelf.

And here is the answer to the question of the lost socks, at least for me. It is not the dryer, or an sneaky sock elf.

It is an under-bed black hole.

After the socks fall off in my sleep, they migrate to the foot of the bed (a commutation also encouraged by my nighttime thrashing), and are caught in the pull of the under-bed black hole, sensitive only to the particular quantum signatures of unmatched socks. There they are sucked past the event horizon between the bookshelf and the bed frame, never to be seen again.

Until, of course, I vacuum. But we all know that only happens only once every eon or so.

Addendum: Mexican-style black beans and rice if you have a little more than a hotel microwave

In my previous post I gave a recipe for a black beans and rice dish that you can make using only a hotel microwave, made possible due to the glory of canned foods. But if you have a little more time and few more appliances, it's very easy (and even tastier, and much cheaper!) to make the black beans and rice yourself. Here is the recipe I use. Add your choice of fresh mozzarella, avocado, mango, or salsa, and you will have a meal fit for kings!

Ingredients:

• 1 can organic black beans
• 1 clove of garlic, minced
• 1/2 onion, chopped
• 1/2 sweet pepper (whichever color you like), chopped
• 1/4-1/2 teaspoon cumin
• 1/4 teaspoon chipotle pepper flakes (chili powder works too)
• 1/4 cup fresh cilantro
• salt (to taste)
• 1 cup brown rice

Instructions:
Cook the brown rice using whatever method you prefer (rice maker or stovetop), adding the amount of water indicated on the package. Saute the onions, garlic, and peppers over medium-low heat until soft/just beginning to brown. Add the black beans, cumin, pepper flakes, cilantro, and salt, and continue to cook, stirring frequently, for about 10-15 minutes. Serve the black beans over rice and add whatever extras you like. Yay!

How to make a tasty gluten-free meal using only a hotel microwave

Last weekend my dad and I drove an hour and a half down to Rochester, MN to visit the Celiac Center at the Mayo Clinic. Being my first "vacation" (if you can call it that) since starting a strict gluten-free diet in February, I was a little apprehensive about what I would eat. I still won't dare set foot in a restaurant, no matter how gluten-conscious it claims to be, and the thought of three straight days of peanut butter sandwiches on that dry crumbly gluten-free bread made me quite sad (and a little nauseated).

But with a little culinary creativity, I came up with a solution to this cooking conundrum:

Mexican-style black beans and rice with mozzarella and fresh tomatoes

Cooked in five minutes using only a hotel microwave and refrigerator (though you could easily make due without the refrigerator). This is also makes a good "OMG I just got home from work/school and I have to eat something NOW!" recipe.

Ingredients:

• 1 can Eden Organic Black Beans and Rice (Caribbean or Mexican style). A statement on their gluten status can be found here.Want to make your own black beans and rice? Here's my favorite recipe.
• Grated Mozzarella cheese* (if you don't have access to a fridge I bet string cheese could also work!).
• 1/2 Tomato, diced
• ~1/4 teaspoon Cumin
• Salt to taste

*If lactose intolerant, avocado would also make a nice addition to this recipe.

You will also want to bring a can opener, plates/knives/spoons, and of course your gluten-free toaster.

Ok, ok, a gluten-free toaster isn't really required for this recipe, but really, no Celiac patient should ever leave the house without one!

Instructions:
Empty about 1/2 to 2/3 of the rice and beans can onto a plate. Stir in the salt and cumin. Sprinkle on the mozzarella cheese and microwave for 2-3 minutes. Add tomatoes on top and enjoy!

BONUS: What to do with that gluten-free toaster you dragged all the way out here!

Open-faced tomato and cheese on toast

Ingredients:

• Gluten-free bread of your choice
• Good quality hard cheese (I used my most recent obsession, Gran Queso from Whole Foods)
• The other half of that tomato
• One clove of garlic (optional)
• Olive oil (optional)

Instructions:
Toast the bread. Cut the garlic clove in half and rub a small amount into the toast. Add a bit of olive oil to the bread and assemble. Yay!

Anderson Kitten, the Movie!

Remember my little underwear-stealing Corsican kitten, Anderson voleur Chausette? Well, he is now a star of YouTube! While recovering my camera files after a recent hard-drive crash, I discovered video upon silly video of this adorable little dude hanging out in my hotel room. And with the help of Windows Movie Maker, I have started editing some of the footage into short videos.

The first features Anderson hanging out in a bag (his favorite spot) while chasing his own tail (his favorite activity). Enjoy!

A very nerdy Christmas with Nelson's Little Helpers!

There are probably at least 10 people in my group who will kill me for this, but I just had to share this video with my nerdy non-MIT peeps.

Every year the highlight of the MIT Chemistry holiday party is karaoke, and every year the organizers of the party search high and low for musical performers to break the ice and get the party started. Well this year, the Nelson group stepped up to the plate! Starting in late October, group members Harold, Sharly, and Dylan started retreating to empty classrooms in the basement of MIT to write the music and lyrics to what would become the next holiday hit of the century. Sharly had the music and background vocals professionally recorded, and at the beginning of December the rest of the group started meeting once or twice a week to practice the lead vocals. Together we made a video to accompany the performance, which sadly you cannot see that well because of the bad quality of my camera (however, there has been talk of professionally recording our voices over the music and syncing it to the video, so give a shout-out if you think we should do it!)

My friend Elizabeth was kind enough to film the event for me and, after five months of the footage knocking around my hard-drive, I finally had the time to edit and post it! Sadly, the sound quality is atrocious, but I added lyrics so y'all can figure out what we're singing about.



P.S. I'm the one in the Santa hat.

A Storm in Minnesota

Since being home, I have been reminded of why all Minnesotans are so gosh darn obsessed with the weather; why my dad wades through the entire local news just to see the five-day forecast and each an every Minnesotan knows their favorite meteorologist by name and is willing to fight anyone who dare voice a differing opinion (Paul Douglas, a.k.a. "The Goof on the Roof" is a person non grata in my household, unless you want to hear an extended rant from my dad). A week and a half ago I felt May snowflakes melting on my cheek. Two days ago it was 87 degrees and humid as a sauna. And last night, we had our first summer storm.

Midwestern storms are just as dynamic as the weather itself. In less than hour a sunny blue sky can become dark, violent, throw down some hail and perhaps a tornado or two, and then become clear (though now a bit damp and drippy) once more.

Tornado storms always warn of their approach by tingeing the air an eerie shade of green, as if the world has stepped inside an ancient photo album. Chattering birds and squirrels become silent. And soon after the tornado sirens, wailing holdovers from World War II, confirm the atmospheric intimations.

The chartreuse (or is it sepia?) before the storm

The proper safety procedure during a tornado warning is to retreat to the basement or other enclosed area of your house, where you will be most protected from flying glass or debris. My mother, who is terrified of thunderstorms, always puts on her shoes, grabs her purse, and troops the family down into our basement as soon as the warning has been issued.

However, most Minnesotans (including me) are not nearly so cautious. A single tornado can form within seconds and rarely lasts more than a few minutes. Warnings are issued for any storm with the capability of producing tornadoes, whether or not any have actually formed, with the result that most of us have experienced countless warnings in our lifetimes with no ill effects. The local news stations, each vying for ratings, exacerbate the situation by instantly broadcasting any photo, story, or video of the storm submitted by brave viewers.

And let's face it: thunderstorms are cool.

This perhaps explains why, 15 minutes after the tornado warning had been issued, half of the neighborhood was out in the hail-peppered streets, gazing at the sky.

Nickel-sized hail from the backyard

The violent core of this sleek and compact storm had passed less than two miles north of us. So, while my mom stood in the doorway shouting the location of the nearest spotted funnel cloud, my neighbors and I stared with joy at the sight of the the sunset reflecting off the back of a thunderhead, which rose out of the treetops in a capricious mountain of steam.

Thunderhead at Sunset

Ten minutes later, it was nearly gone.

Medical Leave and Doing Nothing

After my last post I received a couple messages from friends asking about my health. For those that don't know, I have been on medical leave from MIT since the end of March, primarily due to unexplained exhaustion. While fatigue is common among grad students (in the words of one of my doctors: "You're tired? You're a grad student. I need more.), it is not common for a 25 year old to be bedridden after a four block walk to the grocery store. The good news is the doctors have been unable to find anything wrong with me, other than Celiac disease. The bad news is, the doctors have been unable to find anything wrong with me, other than the Celiac disease. And, after a month and a half of rest and three months on an ultra-strict gluten-free diet, I am still not feeling much better.

 "I know this must be hard for you," my advisor said, when I told him of my decision to take a leave, "you don't get to MIT by being the type of person who takes off for a few months to do nothing."

And it's very true.

Before leaving for home I had already started making lists of all the ways I could make this medical leave as productive as possible: Organize all my computer files. Read that large backlog of research papers.Catch up on all fifty thousand e-mails. Oh, and write the next Great American Novel.

But, as we all know, life has a way of hijacking even the most earnest of to-do lists. Some days are okay (suck it hard drive! Your ass is backed up three ways to Sunday!), but on others the simple acts of taking a shower and eating breakfast are enough to send me back to bed. One of the blessings (and curses) of being sick is that it limits your choices (which isn't always a bad thing). You can no longer feel guilty about not doing all the things you think you should be doing because you really can't. Not without making things worse. So while the insidious voice of Mr. To-do hisses away in my ear, I try and turn my mind to more important things: re-learning the art of doing nothing.

I used to be excellent at the activity of nothing. I once could spend hours just looking at rocks (it's true! I had a rock collection that filled up half my bedroom!). But due to the pressures of adulthood or the pervasiveness of technology, I have forgotten this skill. I guess I should try to get it back again. I mean, I have nothing better to do.

Yep, I am midway through knitting a scarf. I really don't need another scarf. Scarves are something I berate myself for buying when going over my monthly budgets. One by one they accumulate in my apartment, puddling on the floor and tangling in the wheels of my office chair. I keep buying them cause I like the colors. And now, I am knitting one. It keeps my hands busy and, well, I like the colors.

My mom and I have unofficially begun a project of identifying the birdsongs we hear in the morning. "It's deeeeeee - deeeeeeee - de-dee-de de-d, ee-de de-dee-de," my mom sings to my grandma, "do you know what it is?", while I page through soundbites on the internet. My favorites are the white-throated sparrows, which have been camping in our back yard pine tree on their way to their summer homes up in Canada.

And, no period of hard core sloth would be complete without a cat to share it with. I've been hanging out with my grandma's old cat, one of three strays that wandered onto their property when they moved in over ten years ago. My grandparents, with the naming creativity of physicists, called them Goldy, Whitey, and Spotty. Can you guess which one this guy is?

He is a sickly old man whose shoulder blades cut through your fingers when you run your hands down his back and whose face and ears are shredded with scars from his young tomcat days. But he spends his time basking in the spring sun and purring like a tractor at the sight of a petting hand. Cats sure are smart when it comes to doing nothing.

Kara v. Book #2: Kara Jean and the Library

It is a well documented fact that I (species Kara of the genus jean), when observed in my natural habitat, will exhibit the instinctive behavior of packing the walls, floors, and occasionally ceilings of my den with large quantities of books.

While the orthodox view attributes this act solely to the pursuit of knowledge and entertainment (both which require actual reading of the books) recent studies have indicated that these paper bond objects can impart a sense of comfort and warmth to those near them, even if forever left unread. Occasionally they are even used as bedding material.

The books may be gathered from any source: bookstores, used bookstores, garage sales, estate sales, occasionally the side of the road. However, the greatest hauls seem to derive from a single source, chosen for it's availability, easy access, and low cost:

The library.

One summer in college it was observed that a collection of over 50 library books (carrying with them over $70 in fines) had amassed in my den. It took two crates to haul them back to the library once classes began.

And so, not unexpectedly, one of the first things I said to my mom upon arriving home for my medical leave, right after "I love you" and before, "What's for dinner?" was, "Can I borrow your library card?"

She gave me a look and reluctantly handed it over.

Mwahaha.

Library haul April 2011

Early spring in Minnesota (but mostly just an excuse to post more pictures of creatures)

It was 60 degrees and sunny in Minneapolis today, and so, being the good Minnesotan that I am, I decided to take a walk by the lake.

Sometimes I think God gave our great state so many lakes so that Minnesotans would have one nice thing to look at in early spring. This is not the most flattering of times for the northern climes (yay cheesy rhyme!). Roads and boulevards are encrusted with dirt and talc residue left from winter saltings. Leaves don't emerge until late April. And the new grass has to fight through the peat bog seal of dead leaves and mold left over from the fall.

And so, on the first 60 degree day of the year, people and animals alike converge on the lake, the first bastion of color among the grays and browns of spring.

The waterfowl were out in droves at the new drainage pond by Lake Calhoun, some of which let me take photos.

Peekaboo!

Hey there, cutie

A mallard and his wake

A white heron, hunting fish and proving that awkward  really is beautiful

Creatures of my bedroom

A few days ago I found a wasp in my room.

It seemed cruel to kill her. A late spring is finally dawning in Minnesota after one of the coldest winters in recent memory, and any summertime bug with the tenacity to survive that doesn't deserve a helpless death under the weight of a rolled up newspaper. I took out my camera, and she, sensing her cue, posed in a ray of sunlight and let me take pictures while she removed a piece of lint from her back leg.

The next day I found her curled into the carpeting, dead.

A few nights later I noticed a dark spot exploring the crevices of my ceiling. It was a little spider, running her nightly laps - up the corner, across the ceiling, back down the wall and over again. There was something endearing in her frantic pacing. What might this hyperactive insect be looking for, or running from, or trying to forget?

She also got her glamour shot.

As far as I know she is still alive, exploring the space behind my walls. I just hope she doesn't get eaten by a centipede.

My frustrations with the current state of healthcare, summarized in a four-line dialogue

[Elevator music]

[Elevator music]

[Elevator music]

[Telephone ringing]

PHARMACIST: Hello this is Michael, how can I help you?

ME: Hi, I picked up a new prescription from you yesterday and I'm calling to ask if it has any gluten-containing ingredients?

PHARMACIST: Sure, I can check that for you, one second.

[Elevator music]

[Elevator music]

PHARMACIST: Hello? Yeah, so I did a quick Google search on your prescription and a few websites say it's gluten-free so you should be good to go.


Yargh!!!!

The descent of winter

February 18, 2011

February 26, 2011

A decidedly unscientific study on the patterns and prevalence of Jane Austen knock-off fiction at an average Border's Bookstore

Have you ever had this experience?

You are browsing the fiction section of a chain bookstore, searching for some saucy page-turner of a novel that has just enough literary chops to maintain your street cred, only to find yourself confronted by novel after cheesy novel on that saucy and yet oh-so-literary hunk of a fictional man known commonly as Mr. Darcy?

Are Mr. Darcy and his Colin Firth-esque abs really poised to conquer the literary world?

To answer this question, I conducted an informal study at the Border's Bookstore near Ridgedale mall in Minnetonka, Minnesota. Browsing the fiction section from A to Z, I photographed every book I could find that appeared to be based on Jane Austen or her literature. Once home, I examined the photos and compiled a list of all the titles and authors.

In all, I found 38 different books (47 copies total) by 20 individual authors*. This is a surprisingly manageable number - it probably would take me only a year to read them all. (For anyone looking for one of those "accomplish something ridiculous in a year" blog subjects, here you go - I don't think I'm ready to make that sacrifice)  Interestingly, only one dude was represented among the 20 authors, a certain Wayne Josephson, who writes about Emma and her classic struggles with vampires.

Now if I wanted to be really scientific about this I would have counted (or at least estimated) the total number of books in the fiction section of that particular Borders to get an idea of the Total Fraction of Literature this represented (TFoL being a crucial metric in the field of computational literature). Believe me, I considered it. Strongly. But, mimicking my attitude towards most aspects of my thesis project, I decided it was just too much work. Meh.

To examine the content spread in these novels - get inside the mind of the typical Jane Austen knock-off reader, if you will - I went through each book and tallied the number of times that specific words or motifs appeared in the titles. I even put my scientific skills to use and made a chart!

What do women want? Mr. Darcy, obviously.

Clearly, Mr. Darcy reigns supreme. But did that really come as a shock to anyone?

We can draw some additional conclusions from the data:

• For those who believe that Elizabeth was only into Mr. Darcy for his giant house, here is evidence to the contrary: the word Pemberley occurred less than 20% as frequently as did Mr. Darcy.
• A successful relationship with a fictional man requires both mental and physical compatability: words of sexual tension (temptation, obsession, desire) occurred just as frequently as those of romance (loving, dancing, holding).
• Fictional relationships are most successful when post-coital blood sucking is involved: titles including mentions of the occult (zombies, vampires, phantoms) occurred just as often as those invoking Jane Austen herself.

Using these criteria, the award of Most Characteristically Awesome Title has to go to a novel by the name of "Vampire Darcy's Desire" by Regina Jeffers.

TCAA winner

Mr. Darcy, vampires, AND sex? Whoa, baby. I couldn't resist a peak inside this particular masterpiece.

"Marshaling any arguments against the determined curve of his lips seemed fruitless"

Points also to Amanda Grange for invoking Olde English and spelling vampire with a "y":

Vam-pyre?

I also couldn't resist a sneak peak into Mr. Darcy's personal diary, also transcribed by one Amanda Grange:

"I had not known, till I heard this, how far my feelings had gone. The idea of Elizabeth marrying Mr. Collins was mortifying, and painful in a way I had not imagined. I quickly rallied." Oh, Mr. Darcy, I can feel the passion in your voice.

I, for one, have already chosen a title for my next Jane Austen knock-off novel:

Mr. Darcy's Zombie Nightmare Wedding at Pemberley

It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

*Full data set available. Please e-mail the author for access.

Artemis Conquers!

 I wrote a Haiku in honor of all the snowbound bicycles in Boston:

Bicycles float over
crumbling snowpiles; ships
beached after a flood.

Intrepid Artemis!

The melting snow bares its rusty corpses

 Winter has been hard for the bikes of Cambridge:
.

 Some, however, find a way to conquer:

Bonus Kitty Pics: Barley Bear has taken up journaling! Each morning he joins me to write long diatribes about the teasing robin on the balcony and secret love letters to the orange lady cat downstairs - and complains about how I don't pet him enough. Stupid cat.

Haiku for a silly cat

Curious cat in
the morning, stalks a pidgeon
on the windowsill.

Poses long and lean,
like a model: Look at my
sinewy neck!

 

Pocket Magic

Today I put my hand in my pocket and found a gummy bear. Then I put my hand back in my pocket and found a second gummy bear. Whoa.

Spontaneous pocket generation of Gummy Bear?

Poetic Embarrassment

While walking down Mass Ave
my ill-fitting tights
fell down around my calves.

On the phone, I stopped to ask
"Hey Nate, got a pair of suspenders
you think I could have?"