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Easy, Cool Dinner Party

September 8, 2013

Last night, we hosted THE EASIEST HOT NIGHT DINNER PARTY EVER. I wanted to share the recipes with you in case you wanted to host a party that would look like it came out of Sunset magazine, even if you're still recovering from surgery and maybe should have gone a little easier on yourself. (Do they even sell Sunset anyplace but California? Is this a West Coast reference only? If so, it's a cutural reference for grown-up, interesting nights out on patios that don't look real, nights no one really has. Except for last night.)

First of all, I'd been planning on making red thai curry but by ten A. M. it was almost ninety degrees out. Lala mentioned maybe I should make something like gazpacho. Or possibly just ice cubes. Lots of ice cubes. The party got more complex as I had to figure out how to keep everyone out of the house, which holds on to heat like pills on cheap cashmere. We have a nice porch, but there's no big table out there, so guests would be balancing food on their knees.

But that made me think. See, I took the plunge a few weeks ago and bought a Vitamix (right about the time I got the gallbladder problems — IS THERE A CONNECTION?). Yep. I bought one. I really did. I wrapped all my change that I'd saved for years (this is true) and by the time a good friend got me an amazing deal, it was pretty much paid for. (Best part about a Vitamix? It cleans itself. And how.)

So yesterday, I thought, cold soup! In the Vitamix! A little bit of Googling took me to this cucumber-dill soup recipe which turned out to be freaking amazing. I served it in lowball glasses, which made lap-balancing a non-issue.

That soup? Completely made ahead and refrigerated. Perfect and chilled. Also, I didn't wear pants in the kitchen while I made it because I didn't have to. People – stay cool, at any cost! Heat is dangerous! Take off your pants! T-shirt and underwear is plenty hygienic for a kitchen! (It is, right? I mean, I'd just be wearing a skirt anyway, which is basically the same thing . . . oh, whatever. Let's just forget about this conversation. Hydrate, people.)

Main course? We fell back on our favorite chicken recipe. Basically, this really is the best grilled chicken on salad you will ever, ever have. People freak out about this chicken. You brine it early, so that's chilling in the fridge, too. Basically, when people come over, all you have to do is rub on the spice mix (premade, also while standing in front of the fan while not wearing pants), and give it to the Grill Person (Lala) to cook. While she's doing that, put spring mix and (pre)chopped green onions on guests' plates. Add the lemon juice and oil to the OTHER spice mix you (pre)made for the Moroccan Dipping Sauce (same recipe page). Chicken's done? Chop one breast per person, perch on salad, drizzle with dipping sauce, and there! A knee-balance dinner that is gobsmackingly delicious.

Dessert? No problem. Fire up the grill once more for a few minutes, scrape off that char, and make

Grilled Peaches and Vanilla Ice Cream with Balsamic Vinegar Glaze.

Confession: we own a chocolate balsamic vinegar (which is to die for) that I use for this. But you can use any good quality balsamic for the same intensely wonderful results.

Halve (good quality, firm but ripe) peaches, one half per person. Set face down in a plate of balsamic vinegar so that the cut sides absorb the deliciousness. Let rest for ten minutes. Turn over on plate, dust each cut side with a bit of brown sugar. You'll know how much. Grill on low, 2 minutes(ish) on each side. Hope for those lovely grill marks.

Serve with a little scoop of good vanilla ice cream. At the last minute, have the genius idea of drizzling a little of that brown-sugar vinegar glaze that was still lying sad and abandoned on the original plate over the ice cream — just a little trickle. Then watch your guests go dreamy and fuzzy around the edges as they eat, melting into their chairs in happiness.

Let me repeat, I did not overheat having this dinner party. There was very little sweat on my part (a MIRACLE — I hate hot days). And I spent 95% of my time on the porch in the warm (but not hot) air, with my friends, talking. Not scurrying around the kitchen.

And that, really, was the best part. The talking. That was the Sunset moment. White twinkle lights shone through the flowers along the porch rail, and up in the deep blue night sky we could see the flashing lights of passing planes. Chris and Wendy rocked on the swing, threatening to steal our dog, Clementine. Grant and Heather told stories of the viciousness of the PTA. Lala was charming and funny and a great griller. And I got to bask in the fact that this was my life. Those intense in-the-moment feelings of gratitude, those are the moments that mean everything. What a gift.

And then, there are peaches. Damn, how lucky I am.

Some Gall

August 28, 2013

I had to call 911 on myself. If you follow me on FB or twitter, you already know this, but I'm still not quite over it. I've had six surgeries in my life, and multiple weird emergency room-type problems. But the very last thing a dispatcher/firefighter/cop ever wants is to be transported to the hospital by his/her peers.

So when I say that last Thursday, I called down the hall to get my firefighters to come check on me, I was BEYOND HORRIFIED. I had terrible abdomen and chest pains, and I was pale, sweating, and shaking. The only thing I wanted to do was lie down and let it pass. But I was scared. Mostly, I don't get scared over physical problems, even when I should. But this one frightened me.

After the rookiest-of-the-rookies (he only has 2 weeks on) hooked up the 12-lead to my chest (over my best bra, THANK GOD — it also happens to be my most comfortable, which is why I wear it on 48-hour shifts), the crew said they needed to take me to the hospital. I started crying, and it was only partially from fear and pain. Mostly, it was because I was getting put in the ambulance I send to people. I send it. I don't ride it.

The guys were good. They were reassuring. I'm proud to work with them, because I know they treat everyone as kindly as they treated me, even though they let the rookie put in my IV (he did fine.) They also gave me morphine, for which I will always love them.

Turns out I was having a gallbladder attack. Very prosaic. Happens all the time. The ER sent me home to watch and wait, surgery scheduled for two weeks out (it's the most common surgical procedure in the States).

I only made it two days before my gallbladder started getting infected, and holy helen, was I sick. I spent three days in the hospital, and while I know logically that hospitals are terrible places to be, it was another thing altogether to learn it firsthand. The nurses are trying their best, but they are overwhelmed. It was frustrating and nerve-wracking, and it made me grateful for every kindness they showed me. They didn't have to be nice. But they were.

The surgery was done on Sunday, and I was home by Monday night. I'm lucky in that I already had vacation scheduled (to go to Yosemite to the Strawberry Festival, which was then cancelled due to the Rim Fire, which is good, because if I can't go, NO ONE CAN GO), so I don't feel guilt about putting out my coworkers.

(Also: can we just talk about belly buttons for a minute? This is the THIRD surgery I've had which required the belly button to be what was basically a door flap in my tummy. I hate that everyone is like, "Oooh! Take a peek in here! Easy access!" I need a better lock on that thing. Maybe an alarm. Belly button alarm!)

Now I'm overjoyed to be at the place I love to be. Home. This is where I belong, fighting to keep cats off my abdomen and listening to dogs bark at people who dare to breathe outside.

But I took a break from all that to open this text box to write to you, my darling reader. I wanted to tell you funny things about being in the hospital, silly things about how much I loved swapping lipstick advice with the nurses. But really, I just wanted to say hi. This enforced slow-down? The fact that I can't just get up and run hard all day as I usually do kind of freaks me out. It's good for me, though. It reminds me to say hello to YOU.

I always say that I want a stay-cation even though it's almost beyond my powers to actually lie low. Now I have one. I'm doing my best to enjoy it. I just made the biggest spinach smoothie EVER and drank it all. I'm listening to Vespers (Tell Your Mama). Next, I'm going to watch a movie or two. Maybe back to back. And knit. I also, of course, have three or four books cued up on my e-reader, and I'm going to read till the words wobble.

Tomorrow, more of the same (though I might write. I can't promise I won't).

For your enjoyment, here's a taste of Vespers, a 4-person family band. Who doesn't love a family band?

Cover Reveal!

August 19, 2013

Y'all, I think this is my most gorgeous cover ever.

PACK UP THE MOON is the book coming out in March (available for preorder now at Amazon, B&N, and Powells).

I mean, really, could you just DIE? This is the book that should come with a box of Kleenex (I'm working on making that happen) and I could almost cry just looking at it. I love this book.

And in other big news, CORA'S HEART, the fourth book in the Cypress Hollow series, will be available to US/UK/Canada readers next month (exact date to follow, but it will be in September for sure — make sure you get my newsletter!). I like its
cover, too.

Eeeeeeee. This is a really exciting time, folks. I have the best two jobs in the world. I'm actually not sure which makes my heart beat faster, writing The End, or saying, "911, what's the address of your emergency?"

Okay, I do know. Writing The End is a big more exciting. I've been doing the 911 thing long enough my heart only races if a child is involved in the call (isn't that odd? True, though. Most cops/firefighters/dispatchers all react the same way — help is just help, everyone moves as fast as they can until it's a kid, and then it's GO GO GO GO FASTER THAN YOU POSSIBLY EVER COULD!)

Also: I'm working on the synopsis for the next Kleenex book, and I swear, just writing my ideas in Excel made me cry in the cafe. It's GONNA BE GOOD.

Yay. Just yay.

I Love a List

August 9, 2013

1. A Dream I Had (NO! Come back! Please?)

In the dream, I am walking past a payphone. It rings. I answer. My (deceased) little mama is on the other end.

"What's it like where you are?" I ask, when I get over my shock.

"It's nice," she says. "It's not anything like you'd imagine, though. I like it."

"Can you see me all the time?" Thinking, oh, crap.

"Well, I guess I could if I needed to, but I don't."

Whew. I hand the phone to a passerby. "Hey, can you hear anyone on this line?"

Guy listens. "Yeah," he says, handing it back. "It's your mom."

"Mom!" I say. "You're really there! Why don't you ever call me?"

She answers in exasperation, "Landline, Rachael. We can only call on landlines, and you got rid of yours."

It was really a sweet dream. And I was happy to know she likes where she is. (And yes, we got rid of our landline. As a 911 dispatcher who preaches that you should always have one, and always call from it for faster and more accurate service, I was pretty unhappy when California shut off the thing that allowed all landlines to call 911, with or without service. Now it's $25/month just to have service to call 911 and nothing else. I'm not paying $300 a year for a service I can call on my cell phone (with, granted, a delay).)

2. What Lala sends me while I'm at work in the middle of the night. I believe this is cruel and unusual.

Apparently Digit got on the couch and stared at Clementine (who was terrified of him, as usual) for ten minutes before curling up, TOUCHING her. Gah. I can't stand it. The ear! Digit is an old softie now. I barely recognize him. I have not even one healing scar right now. Who is this cat?

3. Easy Thai Red Curry.

I'm obsessed with red curry right now. Obsessed. This is a recipe I modified from somewhere (?), and it is SO EASY and SO FAST and SO GOOD. And if you make it with chickpeas instead of chicken, it's vegan! (I made it for a dinner party which needed to be gluten-free, dairy-free, and vegetarian. No small task. Oh! Link came from Mary-Heather, that's right.)

Chop a chicken breast or two, toss in a large heavy skillet over medium heat in olive oil and some salt until it goes white and not scary-looking (but don't overcook it. Whatever that means). Set meat aside. In same pan, heat 1tbs coconut oil. Add 2 chopped leeks, a chopped red pepper, some salt and pepper. Cover and cook on medium heat until veggies have softened, maybe 5 minutes. Add 2 tsp(ish) of minced garlic (or more!) and a tsp of grated ginger (or more!).* Add 1-2 tbs of red curry paste (not powder. For this you want the paste. I like Mae Ploy). Stir to coat, cook another 5 minutes. Add half a cup chopped sugar snap peas (swoon), a 14oz can of full-fat coconut milk, and the cooked chicken. Raise heat to boil, then lower to simmer. At the end, throw in a good handful of chopped cilantro.

Serve on cauliflower rice (or normal rice, but dude, cauliflower rice doesn't get soggy and it's so good and easy. You can chop it in your food processor while the curry is cooking, and BAM. 30 minute meal).

* I use minced garlic and chopped ginger because I'm lazy. Here's the red curry paste I like. I only use 1 tbs in this recipe because I'm sensitive to heat, and this stuff is spicy.

Guest Post – Gigi Pandian

August 6, 2013

Gigi is one of my sweetest and smartest writer friends, and I adore her. She's a member of PensFatales, and I'm more than honored to host her (and a giveaway!) today at Yarnagogo.

10
Good Things That Wouldn’t Have Happened Without A Cancer Diagnosis — Including
Having My New Book Out Today!

By
Gigi Pandian

I received the news the month after my
36th birthday. Aggressive breast cancer. In the midst of a flurry of surgeries
and treatments, something unexpected happened. It’s been two years and two
months since my diagnosis — and my life is even more amazing than I ever
imagined before being diagnosed with
cancer. And today, it’s even better still: my mystery novel, Artifact, comes out from Henery
Press.

It’s crazy, but cancer has a way of
making you see the things that are important in life with crystal clear precision.
I’m incredibly fortunate that my cancer was caught early and my treatments were
successful. But I’m also living with a very high risk of recurrence – which
serves as a daily reminder to live life to the fullest.

This wasn’t how my life was supposed to
go. I was hard at work writing mystery novels, was thrilled to have found a
wonderful tribe of writers, and had recently gotten married and bought a house.
Within one day, my worries no longer included fitting in a café writing date
into my work schedule or whether I should accept a freelance design gig.
Instead, my life was overwhelmed with learning about surgeons, tumors, and
chemotherapy drugs, and when I left the house it wasn’t to go on a photo shoot
but to go to the hospital.

As soon as the shock wore off, I knew I
wasn’t doing to lie on the couch feeling sorry for myself (although watching Murder She Wrote and Matlock can be pretty damn great when
recovering from a chemo session). My immune system was so shot that I couldn’t
have visitors, so I was set up to work from home. When I wasn’t working, I
needed a project to focus on or I knew I’d go crazy.

My agent had been pitching my first novel
to publishers, but publishing moves SLOWLY. Since the book had already received
accolades, I knew it was ready to be out in the world. I’d never previously
considered self-publishing, but cancer showed me what I wanted out of my
writing: to have fun crafting stories (done), find a circle of fantastic writer
friends (done), and to share my stories with the world — that unfulfilled last
item was what I decided to pursue during my full year of cancer treatments.

As soon as I made that decision,
everything fell into place. By the end of my year of treatments, I had a
stronger bond with my friends and loved ones, was holding my published mystery
novel in my hands, and was feeling healthier than ever. And one year later, I’m
going strong and have a 3-book deal from a wonderful publisher.

I would never wish cancer on anyone, but
if you’re dealt a lousy hand you might as well turn it on its head and make the
best of it.

Here are 10 things that
wouldn’t have happened without my diagnosis:

1. Getting my priorities straight. Friends, family, and fulfillment. I
used to worry about things that now seem stupid and irrelevant. Let me
tell you: it’s not worth it.

Here’s
a picture of my amazing writers group, the Pens Fatales – that’s me and Rachael
in the front row. We hardly ever manage to get the whole group together. The
event that made everyone make the effort to get together at the same time was
my cancer diagnosis. Right before this photo was taken, they took me wig
shopping to make buying a chemo wig a fun
rather than depressing shopping excursion!

2. Going on those trips I was putting off. London, Lisbon, Paris, and Prague. I’ve
always been a traveler, but as life got busier I traveled less and less.
No more. If I want to go somewhere, I’m planning and making it work. It’s
not always easy, but it’s so worth it.

3. Savoring the small things. A walk through the foggy hills. A
great cup of coffee. Laughing at a bad TV show with the husband. I no
longer take these things for granted. (OK, maybe I occasionally forget and
take things for granted, but then I slap myself and remember to savor
them!)

4. Learning to cook. It’s so much easier than I thought
it would be! Over the course of a year, small steps added up into being
someone who cooks delicious homemade meals every day.

5. Taking
care of my body.
Aside from a few side effects that remind me I survived breast cancer, I’m
feeling healthier than ever, because I’m taking care of myself. I adore
green smoothies! They’re seriously much more delicious than you’d imagine
if you’ve never tried one.

6. Creating a publishing plan. I’d been a bit aimless with my
writing before cancer. I’d joined writers groups and found an agent, but I
hadn’t learned more about publishing itself. But if I’m going to take on a
project, I’m going to do it right. Chemo was an excuse to do things
slowly, but not do things poorly. Because I formed my own imprint and
followed all the steps of traditional publishing, I was treated
professionally and received reviews including several that compare my
writing to that of my favorite author, Elizabeth Peters, and are
incredibly meaningful to me. (You can read more self-publishing details here,
if you’re interested in what goes into it.)

7. Holding my mystery novel in my hands.
Such a thrill! I
expect this would have happened someday, but because of taking action, I
got to hold my book in my hands the month I was done with cancer
treatments.

8. Being
surrounded by dozens of friends at my book launch party. Independent bookstore A Great Good
Place for Books hosted my book launch party. I served whisky from the
region of the Highlands of Scotland where the Artifact takes place, and throughout the evening fifty people
stopped by the cozy Oakland bookstore. I’m glad I took pictures, because
the evening was such a blur — mostly because of seeing so many friends,
not the whisky!

9. Receiving book blurb from one of my all-time
favorite authors. The
reason this is something that wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for
my diagnosis is because I would never have had the courage to ask for this
if I hadn’t decided to live with no fear.

I
emailed mystery novelist Aaron Elkins, who I had never met but whose books I’ve
loved since I was a teenager, to ask for a book blurb. I knew he rarely read
books by new authors, but I figured I had nothing to lose. I was surprised that
he both agreed to check out the book and gave me an amazing blurb! Before the
book was out, I already felt like I’d made it. It had a cascading effect.
Because I’d introduced myself, we got to know each other and I had the
opportunity to step in to conduct his Lifetime Achievement Award interview at
the Malice Domestic mystery convention.

10. Signing a 3-book deal for my Jaya
Jones treasure hunt mystery series. Because of everything I’d done to with my book, I attracted
the attention of a publisher who was excited about the whole series. I’m
ecstatic to have signed with such a great publisher and have more time to
write.

My takeaway is to remember to live like
you’re dying. Don’t put things off. Turn “someday” into today. What have you
always wanted to do? Do it. Yes, it’s
tough. But it’s worth it.

Leave a comment below about something you’ve always
wanted to do and we’ll enter you to win a copy of Artifact.

Artifact: A Jaya Jones Treasure
Hunt Mystery

Historian Jaya Jones
discovers the secrets of a lost Indian treasure may be hidden in a Scottish
legend from the days of the British Raj. But she’s not the only one on the
trail.

From San Francisco to London to the Highlands of Scotland, Jaya must
evade a shadowy stalker as she follows hints from the hastily scrawled note of
her dead lover to a remote archaeological dig. Helping her decipher the cryptic
clues are her magician best friend, a devastatingly handsome art historian with
something to hide, and a charming archaeologist running for his life.

More information: http://gigipandian.com/books-stories/

Gigi Pandian is the
child of cultural anthropologists from New Mexico and the southern tip of
India. After being dragged around the world during her childhood, she tried to
escape her fate when she left a PhD program in favor of art school. But
adventurous academic characters wouldn’t stay out of her head. Thus was born
the Jaya Jones Treasure Hunt mystery series. Find Gigi online at www.gigipandian.com (or Facebook, Twitter, or Pinterest …)

Sign up for Gigi’s email newsletter to
receive a free, exclusive Halloween-themed short story in the Jaya Jones
Treasure Hunt Mystery Series this October: http://gigipandian.com/newsletter/.

RWA 2013

July 24, 2013

Really? I left that crazy-faced picture at the top of my blog for that long? Ouch.

Here's a better crazy face (mine, not theirs):

Twinz! Charlie! You know you're lucky if you're out with the cutest family in Atlanta. I loved being able to see Carrie and Cathy, especially as I won't be allowed to see Cathy until she's pregnant again with #3 because the only time I've ever spent with her in person was when she was pregnant with #1 and #2.

BIG NEWS:

Pack Up the Moon is available for preorder! I just discovered it! I can't wait to reveal the cover to you, because it is truly the prettiest cover I think I've ever seen, but in case you're excited LIKE I AM about the book of my heart, you can preorder here:

Amazon, Powells (other vendors will be added as I find them)

Hey, have I mentioned it in a while? I have a newsletter which doesn't go out often, but that I'd love to send to you. I also love being on Twitter and would love to chat with you there. I <3 Twitter. Facebook — I can only say that I am there. Sometimes.

RWA 2013

. . . was wonderful. This was my sixth (!!) Romance Writers of America National Conference, and I learned soooo much. Publishing is changing fast, and we writers haven't been quite sure of the ground under our feet for a couple of years. The last two conventions were unnerving for many of us. This year, the mood was way more positive and upbeat.

And I was upbeat as I went to my new publisher's party (Penguin-NAL). Seriously, I can think of little I like more than walking into a professional cocktail party at which I know almost no one . . . Wait. No. I was terrified, just as I always am.

This year, though, was different in that I honestly didn't think about the terror. I literally just got dressed up and then went.

(Every dress is Modcloth. I might have a wee dress problem there. I love how this one made me feel like the Empire State Building. Every time I work overtime I treat myself to a dress. OVERTIME ON THURSDAY, YO.)

So I walked in and headed straight for the only person I did know (Carolyn Jewel) who knows everyone and introduced me to them. Then I confessed to everyone I met, "I know almost no one here." They all either confessed the same and/or introduced me to other people. Writers are a weird group–most of us want to be known, thus the extroversion which is pushing your book in which you bare your heart and soul (see above) on strangers, and we also just want to be in front of our computers/notebooks, alone, talking to no one but the imaginary friends we make up. Possibly ever again.

Oooh! And I met Deborah Cooke, whom I've known on Rav writer forums forever, but neither of us "recognized" each other (I would have, had she been wearing her Ravatar name, which we should all probably do every day). It was fine, though — we made friends in this other atmosphere because I was nervous and she was Canadian. Those amazing Canadians are good with all the jittery folks. (Check out her knitting novel, which I just bought myself. Ooh!)

The rest of RWA I spent either writing or learning. I swear. There were hardly any pillow fights at ALL.

My gorgeous darlins: Sophie Littlefield, AJ Larrieu, and Vanessa Kier. (And wedged in there, moi, still wearing my badge because I used it as my purse. I am straight klassy-with-a-K.)