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A Men’s Book Club Discusses Alice Munro

October 22, 2024

The title suggests that men and women have differing perspectives on Alice Munro’s work. Can that be verified? I do not know. But our book club had a lively discussion about Munro’s book entitled Dear Life, a short story collection published in 2012.

Surprisingly, our members read some stories, but not all of them. They found the stories dark and stopped reading to avoid being depressed. One found the lack of “redemption” in the stories disappointing. But does life always have a happy ending? Many people have challenging lives and fail to reach a satisfying old age. There could be health, financial, and family issues that are never resolved. The shock value of missing an ending to the stories made me think of what could have been should the author have completed it. And that I found exciting, and I dreamt up options for finishing the stories.

Although most of us considered the subjects dark, we all agreed that the writing was extremely smooth, and the characters in the story came to life. Descriptions of small towns, the location of many of the stories, also came to life with such force that one of us thought she described the city where he grew up. I admired the ease with which Munro described her characters in a few pages in such detail that I thought I thoroughly understood the person and her motivation in life.

Most of Munro’s characters are women residing in small Ontario towns during the 1950s and 1960s. These women did not usually attend university, and the smart ones hid their intelligence; it was not fashionable for women to be clever in those days.

Her characterizations reminded me of my parents: my mother stayed home and occupied herself with housekeeping while my father was the breadwinner. My mother was the sole exception among her siblings, who all attended university. One of Munro’s stories is an exact copy of one aspect of my parents’ life: the wife prepares dinners for her husband, a doctor, just like my father, who expects dinner on the table when he returns home from work.

Munro’s description of women’s societal role and status started a conversation about their role today, with the understanding that women now surpass men at university graduation. It’s common for wives to be the breadwinners while their husbands take on household responsibilities. This has been a significant change over the past fifty years. Thinking of this trend, some of us questioned to what extent Munro’s stories would be relevant today. I thought that they would. Confirming my view, the Nobel Committee recognized Munro’s universal writings and awarded her the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2013.

But after her death this year, Munro’s reputation suffered with the widespread publication that her husband sexually abused their daughter. Many followers of Munro expressed moral outrage about Munro being aware of the situation and not doing anything about it. Doubts were raised about her genius, and discussions ensued about the quality of her books after her questionable behavior was uncovered. Interestingly, despite anecdotal evidence of changing opinions about Munro, our book club did not dwell on this subject. Maybe this is one difference between men and women when considering Munro’s work. Three out of eight of us resonated with the book, while one person didn’t find it appealing. Most agreed that the stories were dark and depressing but beautifully written.

Cooking the Turkey for Thanksgiving

October 17, 2024             

It was the Friday before Thanksgiving weekend, and we had no plans or turkey to look forward to. We used to close the cottage this weekend, including a turkey dinner, but the weather forecast was unfavorable this year, so we decided to close the cottage a week earlier. So we were at home with no plans or turkey.

I love turkey and the atmosphere that comes with celebrating Thanksgiving. Preparing meals from leftovers is also a pleasure. To cook a turkey is not new to me; I had cooked a couple of turkeys over the past years, so I told Kathy I’d roast one. Since she has done it many times before with the family and knows the amount of work that comes with it, she said, “Go ahead and do the entire dinner.” I understood her feelings, especially doing it for only two people. My thoughts focused on roasting the turkey, ignoring side dishes then. And that is how the weekend started.

The first challenge was looking for turkey sales. I found the stores sold it not by exact weight as they used to but for a fixed price in a weight range. For example, turkeys were between three to five kilograms, five to seven kilograms, and so on. I did not think much of it, but Kathy thought it was a trick; if you bought one at the upper weight limit, you paid less per kilogram than if you bought it at the lower weight limit. I said no problem and found one at the upper weight limit. I purchased 6.3 kilograms, or close to fourteen pounds, for CAN$ 22 or US$16.

It was a frozen one, cheaper than fresh turkey, that was twice as expensive, and we never buy butterball turkeys. The frozen turkey led me to the next challenge: thaw it in less than two days. According to the cookbooks I read, the rule of thumb was that one needs one day, or twenty-four hours, to thaw four pounds of turkey in the fridge. I did not have three days, so I went to the cold-water method of thawing the frozen turkey, which would take seven hours, according to the cookbooks. I put the turkey in the sink for four hours and then in the fridge for two nights, which did the thawing trick.

On Sunday, I pulled out the neck from inside the bird and looked at cookbooks for the next steps. It was not rocket science; I had to quarter an apple, a lemon, and an onion and put them into the belly of the bird. Then, I brushed the outside with melted butter before placing the dish into the oven.

I felt happy with my progress until I realized some side dishes would also be desirable. Kathy came with me to the store, and we picked up some potatoes, green beans, carrots, and parsnips. She decided she was going to fix the vegetables. But we needed dressing and gravy; both were available at the store in ready-made form. I believe in easy cooking and was going to buy them until Kathy put them back and strongly expressed that those items were way too expensive and she could fix both for a fraction of their cost. And that was that.

With both of us working in the kitchen, we took a moment to reflect that our family lives in the States and cannot join us for dinner when we have six kilograms of meat. But, of course, US Thanksgiving will come soon, at the end of November, and we usually join one of them for the celebration.

Then we considered who of our friends would be in a similar situation and dropped them a short note asking if they were alone for Thanksgiving and that they should consider joining us for dinner. It turned out that they were either traveling or were out of town visiting family; at any rate, it was short notice, and we did not expect positive responses.

In three hours, I took the golden-brown bird out of the oven and opened a bottle of bubbly.

It was a great, chaotic weekend deciding to cook a turkey on the fly. But it felt good to end the summer and start the fall, symbolically, with this dinner; the weather turned cool and windy. With the cottage closed, we will now concentrate on the garden at home: covering the outdoor furniture, clipping back the bushes, raking up the leaves, and cutting the grass again. The fulcrum for this change-over was the Thanksgiving dinner.

The Power of a Throwaway Comment

October 7,2024

It is always a treat to visit with an old friend, especially one from my university days, which, in my case, goes back decades. And especially those friends I have not seen in years who live far away from me. But that happened in June of this year when we visited my friend in Portland, OR. I last saw Levente over twenty years ago. And it is always amazing that when we see each other, we talk with each other as if time has not passed between our visits, as if we continue with our conversation from yesteryear.

When I phoned him about our upcoming visit, he surprised me with his solicitous comments about the foods we like, the wines we prefer, and what we would like to see in Portland. I assured him we are very flexible and enjoy all kinds of food. Depending on his available time, we would enjoy quiet conversations about our shared experiences at the University of British Columbia.

Levente welcomed us warmly in the same house we visited over twenty years ago. He bought this house when his job took him to Portland from Vancouver, British Columbia, and kept it when he moved to Huntsville, AL, with his job for many years. When he retired, he moved back to his house in Portland, and now, he enjoys the West Coast lifestyle and mild weather.  

We accepted his offer for lunch, and he began preparing for it as a management consultant, that he was for his career. “I am going to organize lunch,” he said, explaining that he’d open the fridge and see what cheeses and cold cuts he would find for us. Then, he offered a variety of breads and asked if anyone was vegan. And, of course, there was a choice of coffees that he said we could fix on his machine after describing how it worked.

I was surprised at his deliberate lunch organization, especially when he followed up by setting the table formally. At home, we usually consume an informal lunch with leftovers or whatever is quickly available.

After a day of visiting the famous Japanese gardens in Portland, we returned home to a surprise. Levente, it turned out, was going to cook dinner. Seeing him with ingredients, a cookbook, and pots on the stove was a revelation. Given his previous career, I couldn’t help but ask when he had started this hobby.

His wife answered my question with a few words. Having cooked for the family for decades, she was bored and tired of deciding on a menu every day and suggested to Levente that they share cooking: she cooks a week, and Levente cooks the following week. So, how did this idea go down? Levente considered the proposition as a retired management consultant, thought it was fair, and started cooking every second week. He said it was tough slogging for a few months, but following cookbooks with help from his wife, my old friend’s skill level improved to preparing entirely satisfactory meals.

Our conversation about Levente’s cooking arrangement was brief, but it left a lasting impression. I knew our kitchen dynamics were about to change, and I was ready to embrace it. My wife didn’t take long to broach the subject, and I was more than willing to go along with the idea.

I sometimes prepare breakfast, lunch, and an occasional dinner in our household, following recipes. My meals are simple compared to my wife’s excellent meals; she is a superb cook and enjoys cooking when she has the time. In addition to meal preparation, I also share doing the dishes. The idea of sharing dinner cooking was infectious, and if that idea worked for my friend, it should also work for us.

The idea materialized upon our return to Ottawa. At first, my wife continued to prepare the main meal, and I did some breakfasts and lunches, but one night, Kathy was tired and said it was time for me to take over for a week. I said, “Alright, but my meals may be simple.” She said she did not care; I could even bring home take-out foods. I said, “Alright, I’ll do the next five days’ dinners.”

I agreed to this arrangement because many ready-made foods are available now, so I thought providing five-day meals would not be difficult. Much of the grocery shopping is my territory, and I know my way around most grocery stores in our area, including Costco, where shopping is almost fun with all the samples offered.

My limited cooking skills have produced soups (I have made vegetables, cabbage, and lentil soups), green salads, sheet-pan chicken, and baked fish (I like Atlantic salmon and tilapia from Costco).

The first few days went well with me preparing the meals. Then Kathy joined her cooking club the next night, and the following days, we closed the cottage for the season. But we’ll likely proceed as agreed to, in spurts.

Preparing a dinner was new to me; I have done it. What was new was that my friend from college described how he and his wife share cooking, and a brief conversation on this subject suddenly made a massive difference for my wife and me. It gave a legitimizing impetus to pursue the sharing of the meal’s preparation more formally – all because of a throwaway comment by my old friend’s wife.