My epitaph

At my longstanding Saturday morning breakfast yesterday with my running buddies (few of whom actually run anymore), the subject of movies came up. One friend asked if anyone had seen Barbie, which of course I had. I gave my (solicited) opinion, noting especially the scene where America Ferrera's character shouts the whole point of the movie at anyone too dense to understand it for themselves. I also noted how you all told me that was exactly what you would have expected from an old white guy. This at a breakfast with a bunch of white guys who are all at least a decade older than me.

That led one of my friends to say that he had read a piece in the New York Times Book Review in which the author described Henry James's work as being too male, pale, and stale. My friend, who has a Ph.D. in English and loves the classics, was irked enough to go back and re-read The Portrait of a Lady, which is a massive undertaking.

 

I searched for the book review but immediately hit upon this article instead: "Too Male, Too Pale, Too Stale: Why Academia Is Turning Its Back on William Shakespeare." The article explains that the Globe Theatre in London, "Shakespeare's home turf," is giving fans "trigger" warnings about upsetting themes in Romeo and Juliet and offering a number to call for emotional support after seeing the play. But at least the Globe is still mounting productions of Shakespeare's plays, as the article also reports that English departments "are binning the Bard in favour of classes on Lady Gaga and Game of Thrones." I'll let you form your own opinions on that one. In the meantime, you have a good epitaph for my tombstone (were I actually to have a tombstone, which I will not):

 

Too male, too pale, too stale

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On the rare occasions when Mom isn't around to whip up a loaf of her delicious sourdough bread (yes, I'm still waiting for her to guest-post the recipe; no, I haven't given up hope just yet), I throw this together so Brad and I have some fresh (not "too stale") bread to eat. It's especially good lightly toasted and spread with some excellent salted butter.

 

Irish Wheaten Bread

Adapted from Pádraig Ó Tuama via the Poetry Unbound substack (July 16, 2023)

Time: ~50 minutes (~11 minutes to get the bread into the oven)

175 grams whole wheat flour
50 grams all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
50 grams quick cook steel cut oats
25 grams wheat germ
¾ teaspoon fine sea salt
1 large egg
300 grams (1¼ cups) buttermilk or plain kefir

    1. Place a rack in the center of the oven; heat to 375 degrees. Pam spray a one-pound (8-by-4-inch) loaf pan.
    2. Sift the flours and baking soda into a large bowl. Add the oats, wheat germ, and salt, and whisk to combine.
    3. In a 2-cup measuring cup, whisk together the egg and buttermilk or kefir. Pour over the dry ingredients.
    4. Using a silicone spatula, mix together until just combined. The batter will be thick and craggy. Scrape into the prepared pan; smooth the top.
    5. Bake until the bread comes away from the sides of the pan and is golden brown and delicious, about 40 minutes (but check before then). An instant-read thermometer inserted into the center of the bread should read about 195 to 200 degrees.
    6. Turn the bread out onto a cooling rack and allow to cool completely. Serve, toasted or not, with good salted butter. Makes one small-ish loaf.