Two weeks ago, my friend Marilis Hornidge died. The death was unexpected—Marilis died of heart failure—and could even be considered a “good” death. She was seventy-eight, and while that’s not old nowadays, it is not young, either. She had a reasonably long life and, more important, a creative one filled with friends, books, and writing. But, oh, how I miss her, and none of the facts of her life and death will take that away. Nor should they.

I met Marilis in the early 1990s through Maine Media Women, a group that supports women in all aspects of communications—from radio to television to the written word. Marilis was a writer who loved literature as much as I did, and something between us just “clicked” right from the start. Perhaps it was because we both had a passion for the late, great Canadian writer Robertson Davies. (Obsession might be more like it.) Perhaps it’s because we both had what might be called a loopy sense of humor. Perhaps it’s because she was from the South and I was from the North and opposites attracts. Who knows? But for eighteen years we were friends, and even toward the end, when we didn’t see each other much, the bond was still there. (I expect this is true for many, many of Marilis’s friends. Marilis had a knack for friendship.)

I live well over an hour from Marilis’s home, and after she died, bringing food to her family was not an easy option. But I wanted to do something in her memory, and last weekend I decided to make an apple pie—complete with decorations—in her honor. I invited my daughter Shannon and her husband, Mike, to share it with us, and after we toasted Marilis, I told them a little bit about her.

Marilis was born in Memphis, Tennessee, in 1932. One of the stories she loved to tell—and I encouraged it—was how she sang with Elvis at church. This was before he became ELVIS, when he was a “sweet boy,” as Marilis described him. If my memory is correct, their voices blended nicely, and they often sang together.

Marilis had a graciousness we often associate with Southerners. She always seemed to know exactly the right thing to say, and when she would meet me for lunch or at a meeting, she made me feel as though seeing me was the best part of her day.

“Laurie-belle!” she would exclaim in a soft, slightly Southern accent. “I’m so glad you’re here.” This always made me smile.

Here’s another story that still makes me smile. “Laurie-belle,” Marilis said, “In my generation there were two things that every Southern girl was supposed to know how to do—make good biscuits and good pie. Fortunately, my husband was a Northerner and didn’t know this.”

Marilis was a lover of cats and wrote a book called That Yankee Cat: The Maine Coon. It was published in 1991, and as far as I know, it has never been out of print—a remarkable achievement for any book. No surprise, then, to read what the magazine Cats & Kittens wrote about That Yankee Cat: “The best reference guide to the first truly American breed.”

What else to say about this woman who had a fine, strong face and a melodious voice? Her love of sending notes and cards? Her aversion to phones and computers? How do you condense a life into a short piece?

You can’t, of course. But, Marilis, you have been honored with pie and with words. You have been lovingly remembered.

And truly, you will be missed.

With “A Food Manifesto for the Future,” Mark Bittman has made his first appearance on the Op-Ed page of the New York Times. In his “Manifesto,” Bittman has laid out an ambitious set of guidelines for our country to follow to promote healthy eating as well sustainable farming. Some of it seems perhaps a bit too ambitious, but kudos to him for speaking up. If enough people hear it enough times, then just maybe there will be progress. 

I was especially taken with the following: “Encourage and subsidize home cooking. (Someday soon, I’ll write about my idea for a new Civilian Cooking Corps.) When people cook their own food, they make better choices.” 

A Civilian Cooking Corps! I love it. 

I’ll certainly miss the Minimalist columns, but I look forward to reading more of what Bittman has to say on the Op-Ed page.

It seems that during the short, cold days of January the Maine lawmakers have done more than think of ways to chip away at President Obama’s health care law. They have turned their minds to whoopie pies, and a legislative committee has been formed to consider making whoopie pies Maine’s official state dessert. This is an urgent matter. Pennsylvania is also thinking of making whoopie pies their official dessert, and heaven knows what trouble would erupt should two states have the same official dessert. There might even be a law against it, and a good thing, too. There could be a disturbance in the space/time continuum if both Maine and Pennsylvania proclaimed that whoopie pies were their official state dessert. It could get very ugly.

Then there are the party-poopers who are asserting that whoopie pies—some of which contain lard—are not good for us. Why not consider the blueberry?, the party-poopers ask. After all, a dessert made with blueberries would be much healthier than a poky old whoopie pie.

Maybe yes, and maybe no. It all depends on what kind of dessert is made with blueberries. It’s hard to believe that a blueberry pie—quite possibly made with lard—would be much healthier than a whoopie pie. Yes, blueberries contain antioxidants, but so does chocolate.

On this matter I will remain neutral. I love all things blueberry, and whoopie pies are one of my favorite desserts. Besides, it’s a silly argument, no matter how you look at it. Desserts are not supposed to be healthy. They are supposed to be sweet and good, an occasional indulgence, not something to be eaten every day.

Maine lawmakers will again turn their minds to whoopie pies on February 8. Will Pennsylvania beat us to the punch? Will blueberries insinuate their little blue heads? Stay tuned.

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Week Four: The Let Them Eat Bread Report

Last week I gave away two loaves of bread: One to my daughter Shannon, and one to Holly Studholme, the daughter of my friend Dawna Leavitt.

The grand total for January? Ten loaves of bread. At least forty-two more loaves to go.

Yesterday, my husband, Clif, and I went to Railroad Square Cinema in Waterville to see  White Material, a movie that is part of a mini-film festival called MIFF in the Morning. For six weeks this winter, on (mostly) alternating Saturday and Sunday mornings, an eclectic group of foreign and independent films are shown, and there is usually a discussion afterward.

Clif and I are part of the MIFF in the Morning committee, as are our friends Joel and Alice Johnson. We screen the movies and help choose them, as well as various other sundry tasks.

Because it is a morning event, Alice and Joel decided that bagels would be just the thing to accompany the movies. (Even for devoted popcorn lovers, 10:00 A.M. is a bit early for popcorn.) Alice and Joel got in touch with Bagel Mainea in Augusta, and they agreed to donate bagels. Bagel Mainea must be in the running for making the best bagels in Maine. I know I’m treading on thin ice here, but in fact I think their bagels are as good as most New York City bagels. (And I’ve eaten more than a few when I’ve visited my New York daughter.) Bagel Mainea’s bagels are everything a bagel should be—soft, chewy, and boiled as well as baked. In short, they are not just round bread.

Not content with just offering bagels, Alice and Joel decided that there should be toasted bagels as well, and somehow they scrounged a bagel toaster. Add cream cheese and butter to the mix, and you have yourself a pretty good morning film festival.

Today, I learned that Mark Bittman, aka “the Minimalist,” will no longer be writing his food column for the New York Times. I will miss him and the snappy little videos that went with his recipes. Thanks to Bittman, I learned to cook many meals that were simple, healthy, and delicious. His philosophy matches mine—home cooks lead busy lives, and they seldom have the time or the money to cook “gourmet” food.

I also love his philosophy about less-than-wonderful kitchens, about how cooks can cook regardless of what they have or don’t have. In his farewell piece in the Times, Bittman writes, “For months I lived with a hot plate and a combination convection-microwave oven. When I needed to roast something I borrowed a friend’s kitchen….Thus I have no patience for ‘I’d love to cook but I have a lousy kitchen.’”

However, Bittman fans need not despair. He has written many fine cookbooks, and they are well worth buying. I have his How to Cook Everything Vegetarian, and his crackers have become a staple in our house. (In fact, I’ll be making some this afternoon.)

And, even better, Bittman will not stop writing for the Times. Starting in March, he’ll be writing a recipe column each week for the Times magazine. And, more important, he will be having a blog in the opinion section of the Times.

Strange as it might seem, food has become a political issue, and Bittman is concerned about “the continuing attack on good sound, eating and traditional farming in the United States…” He’ll be writing regularly about this in his blog, which will start next week.

I’ll be reading.

I just read a sobering piece on Salon.com about rising food and oil prices and the global unrest that might come as a result. It’s called “Welcome to the Year of Living Dangerously” and it was written by Michael T. Klare. “Put simply, global consumption patterns are now beginning to challenge the planet’s natural resource limits. Populations are still on the rise, and from Brazil to India, Turkey to China, new powers are rising as well.” When weather-related disasters—floods in Australia, fires in Russia—are added to the mix, as well as speculation, you have conditions for widespread hunger. Not a pretty picture.

If ever there were a time for the coming together of communities, states, and country, it is now. Hard policies and selfishness will only make things worse, leading to insecurity and misery. We are all in this together, and our solutions must come from society as a whole, from sound policies and fair laws that bring security to people in insecure times. In The Permaculture Way, Graham Bell writes, “We can no longer afford to be individuals scrabbling over one bone. There are too many of us, and we have stretched the resources of our planet too far…”

Conversely, individual actions do matter, and we must take a serious look at what and how much we consume. We all have our weak spots; mine is food. Nevertheless my husband, Clif, and I are making a serious effort to eat more beans and less meat, to eat our fair share but not to overeat. We don’t always succeed, but we keep trying and in that trying, through constant practice, can come a change in habits. At least that’s what we hope.

The late, great Canadian writer Robertson Davies once stated, “Balance is the reconciliation of opposites.” He was right. I just hope this country can reconcile the needs of society with the needs of the individual. Right now, we are out of balance. Way out of balance.

As I worked on this piece, black beans were soaking in a big pan. Soon after, I cooked the beans until they were soft. Then, in a little oil in a big fry pan I sizzled chopped carrots and celery until they were soft. I added a few cloves of chopped garlic and sizzled it for less then a minute. Next came the black beans and a barbecue sauce our friends Kate and Bob Johnson gave us for Christmas. Clif and I ate the barbecue beans over some rice, and they tasted very good indeed.

I just finished reading Ali’s most recent post at Henbogle and thought it was worth sharing her statistics. She has been keeping track of how much she spent and how much she has harvested from her garden in 2010 and 2011. The numbers are impressive, especially when you consider that her garden is 630 square feet and that her yard is about ¾ of an acre.

“This harvest, plus the unreported one (oops) a couple of weeks ago amounted to 9.94 lbs of squash and New England Pie pumpkin.  This brings the garden harvest total to 625 lbs. for the 2010 growing season.  The value of my harvests stands at $2,083.70, my expenses remained the same at $317.54 for the year, bringing the net value to $1,766.16.”

What Ali’s recorded keeping clearly shows is how much financial benefit can come from planting a garden. (There are, of course, other benefits as well.) This is especially relevant for people who are on a very tight budget or for those who, for whatever reason, would like to stay home more and work less outside the home. Or, for people who simply cannot find work. Planting a garden not only provides fresh, wholesome food but is also a real contribution to a home’s economy. Then, if you combine the value of the vegetables with the savings that come from cooking from scratch—versus buying prepared food or eating out—then you have an even more substantial contribution. Double, perhaps even triple. 

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Week three: The Let Them Eat Bread Report

My project? To bake and give away at least one loaf of bread each week in 2011. My reason? A personal protest against the rampant selfishness of our society.

This week I gave away two loaves of bread: One, to my daughter Shannon and one to Shane Malcolm-Billings, who works at my town’s library.

Total loaves of bread given away so far this year: 8

Yesterday was a day of snow and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. It snowed until late afternoon, when we headed outside for clean-up. Our dog, Liam, helped, too, and it’s safe to say that he had the most fun. Leaping Liam! After an hour or so of shoveling, it was time for cookies, tea, and poetry.

Unlike Governor LePage, my husband, Clif, and I found time in our busy schedules to go to a Martin Luther King Day breakfast yesterday. It was at Sully’s Restaurant in downtown Winthrop, and while I am sorry to say that the food was what might called indifferent, the company and the speaker more than made up for this. At the breakfast, there were many people we knew, whom our friend Joel Johnson would call “the usual suspects,” but we decided to sit at a table where we knew nobody. A good decision! It’s always great to meet new people, and we were certainly among kindred spirits.

At our table, the “getting to know you” small talk soon shifted to movies, in particular to The King’s Speech, featuring Colin Firth. I couldn’t resist saying that while Firth was splendid in The King’s Speech, he would always be Mr. Darcy to me.

“Oh, yes!” came the chorus from the women sitting at our table, along with “Wasn’t he great in Pride and Prejudice?” and “He is so good looking.”

Indeed he is, and I expect he’ll always be Mr. Darcy to many, many women.

The real topic of the breakfast was, of course, much more serious than Colin Firth. It was about modern-day slavery, and the speaker was E. Benjamin Skinner, a journalist who has written for Time magazine and Newsweek International. He’s also written A Crime So Monstrous, a book about modern-day slavery. At the breakfast, Skinner told us that there were more slaves today than ever before, and he very specifically defined slavery: “A slave is a human being who is forced to work through fraud or threat of violence for no pay beyond subsistence.” He also spoke of his experiences interviewing people who were slaves, and his articulate descriptions were moving and sobering.

Copies of A Crime So Monstrous were on sale, and naturally I bought one to add to our groaning bookshelves. It has a foreword by Richard Holbrooke and a back-of-the-book blurb by Bill Clinton. Lucky little Winthrop to have a speaker of such caliber as Benjamin Skinner.

On our afternoon walk, Clif and I discussed Skinner’s talk about slavery and how humans are all too ready to exploit other humans. Profit, greed, power, and lack of empathy all come into play. In our modern times, we think we’ve progressed, and in some ways we have. But in many ways we have not, and until there is a widespread belief in “the rights of man” (and women and children!), and just laws that are enforced, then our progress will be spotty at best. Fitting thoughts for Martin Luther King Day.

In the meantime, I make bread and give it away. This brings me to…

Week two: The Let Them Eat Bread report

This week I gave away three loaves of bread: one to my friend Sybil Baker and two to my daughter Shannon. There is a definite trend here. Shannon seems to be quite the bread recipient. What can I say? She’s my daughter. And in my original post, one of the guidelines specifically stated that it counted to give bread to family. It’ll be interesting to see just how many loaves of bread Shannon receives over the upcoming year. Nevertheless, I’ve been thinking of including a little unofficial rule for myself—someone besides Shannon must receive bread each week.

So far, so good. This month I’ve given away six loaves of bread, and while three have gone to Shannon, three have gone to other people as well.

Let them eat bread!

Addendum: It seems that Governor LePage relented from his previous no-show position on Martin Luther King breakfasts or dinners and that he attended a breakfast in Waterville. Good for him! Too bad he had to make such a fuss about it to begin with.