Ice Skating Season Begins

Outdoor skating rink, Na Františku, opened its ice this weekend, in well timed synch with the Prague Christmas markets. After a few days of accidental meanderings by Náměstí Míru to test out the market's treats, we decided ice skating might be just the right antidote for all the cider we'd tried this weekend.

Sunday afternoon found us adjusting last year's skates to the children's feet and packing up for a trip to the rink. Na Františku is right on the river, a little less than a kilometer's walk from Staroměstská metro. Most of the walk takes you through the Jewish quarter, with its beautiful art nouveau architecture and shop windows galore to enjoy while you walk by. Thanks to the entertainment, it's an easy stroll.

We arrived just after the start of the evening skate (4 pm, have I mentioned that's evening now?). In no time at all we had figured out tickets, a bench for our stuff and how to untie the triple knots in my skate laces. Time to try out the rink.

When you grow up in the South, you don't spend a lot of time skating on ice. Roller skating, yes, and these days roller blading, but I can count on two fingers the number of times I ice skated before we moved to Prague. I'm missing that kid conviction you keep as you grow up with a skill, and each year I wonder if I'm really going to be able to skate when the season begins. Skating backwards holding on to James' hands distracted me, and once I was racing around the rink with Caroline the bumps worked out, my feet stopped trying to remind me they preferred other footwear and all was well.

{1} We eventually borrowed a hockey goal frame for James to push around the rink. It worked better than holding my hands, but he's still not as excited as Caroline is about skating.
{2} If skating's not your thing, there's always basketball, and a playground too.
{3} By the end of the day, the ice had taken a beating, but was still firm enough for some fast footwork.
{4} The Spanish synagogue, one of my favorite buildings on the way back to the metro.
{5} Since the kids were starving afterwards, we ended the evening at a pizzeria downtown that is unusually kid friendly.

Gertie the Dinosaur

An academic husband comes with benefits you might expect – the ability to translate Latin inscriptions at a glance and quote "The Waste Land" at just the right moment, a library of books you’d never buy for yourself, but like to read on occasion, a schedule that allows at least a week off for Christmas. Later you discover that someone who can memorize long passages from Ovid can memorize just about anything, and is a walking database of Beatles songs as well.* And that anyone interested in early 20th century poetry might find early 20th century films just as cool.

Which helps explain why we’ve spent the last few weeks watching silent movies and cartoon shorts each night before the kids go to bed. The animations come from a top 50 cartoons list picked out by a scad of animators almost twenty years ago,** and now listed in Wikipedia for easy reference. The earliest cartoons have a tendency to the surreal, with nightmarish worlds getting built and then twisted inside and out at the whim of the animator, and they are mostly not my favorite. We all developed a fondness for Gertie the dinosaur*** though, and I thought you might like to meet her too.

* I can’t guarantee this quirk in every academic, just mine.
** The list was published in The Top 50 Greatest Cartoons: As Selected by 1000 Animation Professionals, by Jerry Beck.
*** You'll probably know her parent, Winsor McCay, through his most famous character - Little Nemo.

Puff Pancakes

Do you ever make German Pancakes?* When we were children we loved them extravagantly, but in my fickle teenage years I moved on to other food favorites, like chocolate malted milk shakes, soft shell crabs, shrimp of all variety. Apparently there is a gene for puffed pancake adoration though, because when I introduced one to the family at dinner this week something amazing happened.

Silence settled over the table. Peace reigned. And everyone ate their food.

All of it.

After we finished, there was a reverent pause, and then Caroline asked if we could have pancakes every Monday from now on.

This was all very satisfying to a cook who might please one or even two people at the table but rarely manages to slip anything fancier than an egg by the third. The moment was marred only briefly after C asked what made it taste so good, and how did I make one? When she found out the ingredients, and how easy it is to do, she stomped her foot and said "You fooled me, that's not fair!"

To show her the benefits of simplicity, I decided we’d bake one together. Today’s the second day of school holidays for the children, and they were home with their babysitter, Lucie, while I worked. When I took a break for lunch we stirred together our pancake. Caroline measured, James cut the butter, and they both handled the important task of watching their dinner grow.

There are many pleasures to be found in food this simple: it takes minutes to make, and uses the most basic of ingredients. It’s the type of dish that turns lemon juice and powdered sugar into magic, and it melts in your mouth when you eat it. But perhaps best of all, you get to watch your pancake grow as it bakes, in a sequence usually seen only in time-lapse video. We held our breath while it inched its way up to full height, and then, suddenly, sagged down again with a sigh.

After we ate, the children swarmed me and pelted kisses all over before I headed back to work. Lucie and I laughed, and I decided that I might be persuaded to make another one come Monday.

*A German pancake is also known as a Dutch Baby in the States.

Ingredients
2 TB butter
4 eggs
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup flour
2 TB sugar
1 glug of vanilla extract
pinch of salt

Preheat oven to 425F/215C. Add butter to dutch oven and place in oven.
Meanwhile, use a fork to mix flour and milk together well, removing all lumps. Once mixed together, add 4 eggs and stir until smooth. Stir in sugar, salt and vanilla, open oven and swiftly pour batter into the dutch oven.
Let it bake for 20 minutes if you like something more buttery, longer for crispiness.

Serve with powdered sugar and a squeeze of lemon juice.

Two Squares' Take on Democracy Day

Today’s joint celebration of Struggle for Freedom and Democracy Day and International Students Day meant a day off from school for James and Caroline, but not, apparently, a day off from study. Caroline organized a music class that included plenty of breaks, jingle bell practice, and the well timed „fite with James“ module. After Caroline assured me she meant pillow fighting, not swords, we left them to it.

Eventually the kids started sparring outside their curriculum, and C and I split off from the guys to head out on a ramble. As you can see from the collage, we managed to catch bits of what was happening around the city today - public speeches and demonstrations at Václavské náměstí, and a construction scene at Náměstí Míru, where the Christmas markets were going up.

On the way home from our walk, C told me what she'd learned about November 17th in school this week. Back in 1939 the German ruler of Bohemia and Moravia killed a group of students and their teachers and closed down Czech universities. Since 1941, countries around the world have celebrated November 17th as International Students Day,* in honor of those killed. The date has double significance here, as a student demonstration on November 17, 1989 helped spark the Velvet Revolution.

* The US celebrates "International Education Week" in mid November, in a nod to International Students Day.

In November

In November, the earth is growing quiet. It is making its bed, a winter bed for flowers and small creatures. The bed is white and silent, and much life can hide beneath its blankets.

In November, the trees are standing all sticks and bones. Without their leaves, how lovely they are, spreading their arms like dancers. They know it is time to be still.

-from In November by Cynthia Rylant

Each fall, when the school year starts, we rummage through the children’s book cases and find In November. Its slow pacing and winter world feel exotic then, and we pretend shiver as we read it through at bed time.

November arrives, and with it scarf and hat weather. It doesn’t usually snow, but the skies hang low over our heads, walks lose their pleasure, and when we come in from the cold the first person finished shedding their layers heads to the hot water kettle to make some tea.

At parties and in email, we start to plan Thanksgiving dinner with our friends. We each have a traditional dish to bring, and we search the internet for one or two more ideas to try. In the weeks before Thanksgiving we bake more, and leave the oven door open for its heat when we’re through.

In November, the smell of food is different. It is an orange smell. A squash and a pumpkin smell. It tastes like cinnamon and can fill up a house in the morning, pull everyone from bed in a fog. Food is better in November than any other time of the year.

At bedtime tonight we piled blankets on the children and read In November again. The words felt different, the pictures too. The outside world has slowed down to the same pace as the text, it mirrors the paintings with their beautiful simplicity. The story has turned from exotic to true.

Floating Resolutions

I like month-long projects. A few years ago, before James was born, I decided I’d try to do a little art every day for a month. It was a most creative time, and the happiest mid winter I’ve ever experienced. Thanks to NaBloPoMo, this month I’m trying to write and take pictures every day. And two months ago? In September, Caroline and I set up a challenge for ourselves. I’d pick out a new outfit for her each school day for a month, and she'd get dressed in time for us to photograph the results before she left for school. I upped the ante by betting I’d figure out outfits without buying anything new for the year beyond a pair of boots and the school dress of C’s heart‘s desire.*

For a month of school days, Caroline got dressed without complaint. Our portrait sessions worked wonders on two grumpy morning people, and after a few days we started to get goofy. One Monday, I asked if she could please try some floating. It became a game each day as she tried to jump as high as she could and I tried to find enough light to keep the results from being a complete blur. When the first of October rolled around, we were both a little sad when I didn’t pull out the camera. I put together the collages for C that night so we could see her side by side.

Now when Caroline is stuck deciding on an outfit for the next day, we'll check the collages to help make her choice. I get a kick out of skimming through the pictures and watching how they progress through the month, how we finessed the jump and tried it out in one spot or another around the house, which days left enough time for braids, and which for only pony tails. And Caroline and I are already plotting a new challenge for January, we'll keep you posted on what our next month-long resolution might be!

*Because she doesn’t have to wear uniforms, she thinks they’re cool.

Pan Fried Anchovies from Croatia

It's Monday, how about a fish story?
*******
These beauties were caught off the coast of Croatia the day before we met. One glance into their eyes, and I fell in love. I'd never cooked with anchovies before but suspected that any fish this fresh had to be delicious.

Once home from the farmers market, I found out that anchovies are a cinch to cook. The fiddliest part is the prep, because of the multitudes. But don't let that faze you. It's just a matter of washing well, off with their heads and a thorough gutting to avoid the innards and their bitter flavor. Once your anchovies are beheaded and gutted, rinse them once more and dry inside and out. (Getting rid of extra moisture keeps fish from turning soggy when you're pan frying.)

The hard part's done. Set up a dinner plate with a few cups of corn and wheat flour and salt and pepper to taste. Then roll your fish through the mix, making sure they're covered from head to tail.

Now heat up a big pan full of sunflower or olive oil on a burner that's big enough to get your oil hot but not smoking. You'll want about 2 cm/.5 inch of oil in the pan. Once the oil is ready, drop your fish in and fry until they are golden brown, about one minute per side.

Drain your anchovies with a big slotted spoon, nestle them onto a bed of paper towels and lunch is served!

We dined that day with our fingers, squeezing lemons over the fish while they were hot, adding ketchup for the kids, who ate with gusto. We did too. It was fare to remember.

Ingredients
1 kilo fresh anchovies
1 cup wheat flour
1 cup corn flour
2 tsp salt
ground pepper to taste
sunflower or olive oil for frying
lemon wedges and ketchup for the table

To Market, to Market, and Jiggity Jig

Saturday morning found us retracing our St. Martin’s walk of the night before, carrying shopping bags and James‘ bicycle in place of lanterns. The fall mists had disappeared with the drop in temperature and all was sunny and cold. Caroline and I took turns finding signs of winter as we walked. Rose bushes bundled up in earth duvets, frost on the grass, hats and gloves on everyone we passed, even the dogs in the park were dressed for the weather.

We were heading back to Jiřího z Poděbrad, this time for the Saturday farmers market. It’s only the second year that we’ve had a farmers market in our neighborhood, and even though we’ve been regular Saturday visitors since spring, each weekend I feel like a kid on Christmas morning as we turn the corner and find the stands still there with their bounty. French bread, cuts of lamb, Czech pastries that taste homemade, apple cider, fresh eggs, sausages of all variety, vegetables and herbs...and best of all, fish. Fish that is so nearly fresh I can poach, pan fry or steam it, knowing full well it will taste like fish and not like an unfortunate trout that has lingered too long in the freezer.

Since the sun was out, I took lots of pictures to try to capture the charms of the market. The top photo in the collage today turned out to be my favorite, showing off the stands with their Czech flag motif just above the hustle and bustle. The rest of the pictures come from our walk over: Caroline sleuthing for signs of winter, a graffiti covered metro air vent, frost in the park. The center picture is of one of my favorite industrial art works. It's a metro air vent too, and I love it to pieces for its cartoon character personality.

What does your farmer's market look like, and does it still run in the winter?

Music to Work By (It's Better than Coffee)

Daily* blog posts aside (and last night's parade), I've worked a lot recently, staying up past midnight most nights as our team finishes projects, and starts a few more. It's November, our busy season, and I know that things will quiet again in January. In the meantime, there's music to listen to, and work to get done. Off I run!

* Because it's November, and NaBloPoMo.

Lanterns on St. Martin's Day

Candle-lit holidays come every few weeks now til the end of the year. St. Martin's Day fit the bill tonight, and Caroline's school celebrated with a lantern* parade through the streets of our neighborhood. Caroline and her friends led the parade with their teacher; we were cordially acknowledged and then ignored as C turned her attention to the important business at hand: voices to be warmed up, lanterns held high and the parade kept from wobbling too far off its path towards Jiřího z Poděbrad, one of the main squares nearby.

St. Martin's day in central Europe is traditionally the day new wine turns from stormy to clear. To celebrate, vineyards from around the country set up stands in the square to offer up tastes of their young wine.** After the classes gathered to play recorder and sing, parents sorted out children and headed straight to the wine stands to receive our reward - svařené víno, or mulled wine! Fingers warm for the first time since the parade began, we headed home, lanterns still lit and children humming, ready for the weekend.

* Paper lanterns, with candles. The type of lanterns that boys like to play swords with.
** The festival began at 11:11 this morning, in a nice nod to the date, and borrowing a tradition from our German neighbors.

Palmetto Frond Forts and Other Fun

Joan from Charleston Daily Photos recently mentioned kolokolo on her blog, and added kolo to her low country blog roll. In thanks, I decided to dig into my photo files from the summer for some pictures of one of our favorite places in the world, Johns Island, S.C. I also asked Caroline if she'd like to be a guest blogger today. She kindly agreed:

"My favorite place to play is on Johns Island. Johns Island is full of trees. There are palmetto branches to play with when they fall. There are live oak trees that are so tall you can’t climb them and see their top. They make a wonderful roof. My cousins live there and play with me. We build houses out of palmetto branches. It is exciting because the wind blows hard and flaps the palmetto fronds. We play that we are Indians, and have palmetto swords. I can’t wait to play Indians again when I go back."

Mushrooms or Mulled Wine, You Choose

Stores here are torn between fall and Christmas decorations right now. I'm favoring the fall for at least a few more weeks, though as soon as the Christmas markets open and mulled wine season begins, I'm sure I'll be singing "Deck the Halls" along with the rest of the choir!

The Color of Fall in Prague

Prague's trees don't turn spectacularly crimson or orange, but for a week or so each November, they do line our streets with gold. This weekend the trees and the sun conspired in a final fling of color. Everywhere we walked we saw people taking pictures of the leaves, and the children ran beneath the trees to try to catch a leaf before it reached the ground. We wound up at one of our favorite nearby parks, Grebovka, where the fallen leaves made carpets of color, perfect for scuffling through.

Breakfast with Pumpkins

Is it just me, or do these jack-o-lanterns look like they're plotting to take over the breakfast table?