FOODFIC: Please Welcome Henry Walton, Author of The Journals of Thaddeaus Shockpocket

 

The Journals of Thaddeaus Shockpocket children’s short story series, including Albion 77, incorporates food throughout the stories to create moods and settings, and to give hints to the quirky personalities of the eccentric Shockpocket family of English turn-of-the-century inventors/explorers. A meal may reveal a clue to their next adventure, evoke a feeling of comfort, or simply be a product of another crazy invention.

For example, when Thaddeaus discovers that camel vomit makes a great mosquito repellent, he invents a way to make his new bug repellent smell less obnoxious and more like rose water, and then uses his scent modification technique to create all manner of odor altering products, including those that alter the smell of food.

When reformulating my Shockpocket All Organic Bug Repellent to smell less like camel vomit and more like rose water with slight camel breath undertones, I developed all manner of techniques to transform odors. The ensuing formulas have had no end to their potential.

For instance, I can:

Make spinach smell like steak.

It works, but the cooked spinach still has the limp texture of soggy leaves and a taste Tweak can’t stomach.

Make roast beef smell like spinach.

We use this whenever we have roast beef and Yorkshire pudding for supper. The formula is extremely successful at fooling our dog, Shandy, and keeping the furry mutt from stealing freshly cooked roasts straight off the kitchen counter before we even have our first bite.

Unfortunately, one of the joys of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding is the lovely smell that fills the room when it comes out of the oven. Now our Sunday meal smells like overcooked greens. Oh well, at least it still tastes sumptuous. And Tweak and I don’t have to eat leftovers from Shandy.

Make skunks smell like fish.

Okay, smelling like a fish is probably not a whole lot better than smelling like a skunk, but it is the only formula that has any effect at all on the family of little black and white critters that runs loose on the Shockpocket estate.

At any rate, you can see that we became quite adept at scent conversion.

The very next day I set about on my next invention, the Shockpocket Buffler, a personal muffler and odor converter.

One of the surprises of creating what I believe to be unique meals, has been finding that they weren’t that odd after all. For instance, Tweak’s absolute favorite lunch is a sardine and peanut butter sandwich. After coming up with the idea, I made one to see if it was edible and found that my wife actually liked it. And recently, I met an older gentleman who told me that he has made sardine and peanut butter sandwiches for his work lunches for decades. Who knew.

 

Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Henry!

 

You can find Henry here:

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FOODFIC: Please Welcome Susan Hasler, Author of INTELLIGENCE

How long has this been here? Will it give me food poisoning? Do I care? 

I stared at the desiccated lump of cheese and meat lodged in the corner of a Pyrex dish. The hour was 3 a.m.; the place was the CIA Counterterrorism Center; and the date was mid-September, 2001, a few days after the 9/11 attacks. I’d been called in to the night shift on short notice and no sleep. I had three hours to go and a stack of situation reports to review. I was hungry and flagging. The vending machines were empty. The agency cafeteria was closed. The feast donated by spouses and laid out by the coffee mess was gone except for this Salmonella casserole. I emptied crumbs from several potato chip bags into my palm and attacked my situation reports.

When I wrote Intelligence, I used food as a symbol of an unhealthy, unhappy time. My protagonist, Maddie James, worked long hours in a cube farm full of Type A personalities. It was a few years after 9/11, but lives remained on the line, and management still viewed self-care as unpatriotic. Maddie often made a meal out of a mug of strong coffee and whatever salty or sugary junk she could scrounge. She went for the short-term boost in mood and energy. She would think about the long-term consequences later. 

Maddie belonged to the first generation of women to enter the intelligence field in large numbers. When they arrived in the early 1980s, they found the work compelling and the atmosphere often toxic. Making their voices heard in a world built by and for men was the hardest task of all. Sometimes Maddie slapped her palm down on the conference table when men talked over her. That’s how she got her reputation for being difficult to deal with. That’s why she kept a stock of gummy bears in her desk drawer. She bit their little heads off to keep from biting larger heads off.

Maddie is an amalgam of the women I met when I transferred to a job in the CIA Counterterrorism Center in 2000. Most of them had already been there for years. They had done painstaking and pioneering work on the al-Qaida organization. They persisted when their warnings were ignored, and then they took an outsize share of the blame after 9/11. They are some of the best people I have known in my life. I raise a mug of strong, hot coffee in their honor.

Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Susan!

You can find Susan here:

SusanHasler.com

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FOODFIC: Please Welcome Back Ellis Shuman, Author of Rakiya: Stories of Bulgaria

When Bulgarians sit down for a meal, they raise their glasses to make a traditional toast. “We look each other in the eyes and say ‘Nazdrave’,” explains a Bulgarian author to his Israeli visitor in the story ‘Sozopol’ in the collection Rakiya – Stories of Bulgaria. ‘To your health!’

The characters in the story are drinking rakiya, a Bulgarian alcoholic beverage that's made from fermented fruits, most commonly grapes, apples, pears, peaches, apricots, and cherries. “It’s best when it’s homemade,” the Bulgarian author continues. The Israeli finds the drink powerful, burning his throat with its strong alcoholic punch.

“It’s an acquired taste," the Bulgarian says, laughing at the Israel’s reddening face.

The rakiya drink also features in the book’s titular story. Two former best friends are competing in a mountain village to produce the best rakiya. Similar contests consider alcoholic drinks mass-produced by established wineries and corporations but the village competition, on the other hand, is open to residents of the area who make rakiya in their bathrooms, garages, and cellars. Winning is solely a matter of local pride.

Overall, alcohol plays a very minor role in the local cuisine presented to readers of Rakiya – Stories of Bulgaria. In ‘Sozopol’, a waiter sets down a spread of fresh salads in colorful ceramic dishes. The Bulgarian author insists that his Israeli visitor try a salad composed of chopped tomatoes and cucumber and topped with a generous amount of grated white cheese. “Shopska salad is our most famous and national dish,” he explains to his guest.

Other dishes served in the stories of the collection include grilled fish, vegetable guvech (a vegetable stew), kebapche (grilled meat sausages), and sheep’s yogurt with honey. In the story 'Three Women in Sofia', an American studying in Bulgaria is treated to banitsa−flaky pastries of baked filo dough, some of them filled with salty cheese and others stuffed with sweet pumpkin filling. And he also savors one of Bulgaria’s most popular fruits. “Cherries! The size of golf balls! Pulpy, delicious, and incredibly sweet.”

Visitors to Bulgaria can enjoy many other tasty examples of the country’s characteristic cuisine. Hopefully Rakiya – Stories of Bulgaria will whet readers’ appetites to taste them all.

Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Ellis!

You can find Ellis here:

EllisShuman.blogspot.com

Twitter @EllisShuman

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Books on Amazon

FOODFIC: Please Welcome Helen Hollick, Author of Harold the King

 

 

Let’s Have A Feast – With King Harold II of 1066 Fame

I think most of us know that famous date in English History – 1066 and the Battle of Hastings where England’s rightful King, Harold Godwineson, was defeated by Duke William of Normandy at a site now known as Battle, seven or so miles from Hastings on England’s south coast.

There’s a lot more to Harold than just this one disastrous (for the English) battle though. Earl Harold of Wessex, as he was before the year 1066, had been King Edward’s (later called the Confessor) trusted advisor and second-in-command for many years. He was a capable, experienced military commander and was elected King of England when Edward died on the 5^th/6^th January 1066.

Yes, elected... It was usual during Anglo-Saxon times for the Æthling (often the king’s first-born son, but not always,) to become the next king because he’d been trained for the job. Edward had no children, no son to follow him. It was known that Duke William, across the Channel in Normandy, had an eye on the English Throne for himself, claiming that right through his Great Aunt, Emma of Normandy (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emma_of_Normandy) who had been Queen of England twice when married to Cnut of Denmark (he of Turning the Tide fame), and prior to that to Æthelred (the Unready) by whom she’d given birth to Edward. William also claimed that Edward had promised him the throne way back in 1052/1053. Which Æthelred might have done, but had no right to do, because the choice of a successor was not the outgoing king’s prerogative, it was for the Witan, the Council to decide. Which is what happened on 6^th January 1066 at Westminster in London when the elderly Edward died. He had a nephew who could have been chosen, but he was young and inexperienced. Harold was the eldest of the Godwine brothers – his sister, Edyth, was also the, now widowed, Queen. He was the best man for the job. Naturally, when he found out, Duke William didn’t agree. He sited several objections. (Fake, Conspiracy Theory News and Political Propaganda is nothing new!) One was the promise Edward had made, another was that Harold had agreed, under God’s Oath, to support William’s claim. A third was that the Pope backed William.

 So What About That Oath?

A few years before, Harold had travelled to Normandy on some sort of diplomatic mission. We know this because of the Bayeux Tapestry, (which is actually an embroidery, not a tapestry). The Tapestry shows the events that led to the Norman Conquest and the battle itself. Much of it, we think, is accurate although as much of it we don’t understand as explanatory detail is minimal. It shows Harold going to church at Bosham, where he had his main estate (say it ‘Bozzum’ by the way,) and then feasting with family and friends, before setting sail with a small retinue of men and gifts for the Duke. For anyone who knows Bosham, these scenes are remarkably accurate – the church doorway has been shown by local historian, the late John Pollock, to have originally been twice the width it is now, and those steps into the rising tide? Shoreline houses today still have them.

Something went awry, a storm perhaps, because Harold landed in the wrong place and had to be rescued by William. There followed a congenial camaraderie between the two men, where Harold even went on military campaign into Brittany with William. But it soon became apparent that William was not quite the hospitable host he was pretending to be. There came the annual ‘swearing of homage’, probably at the Rouen Christmas or Easter Court, where all William’s nobles had to re-swear their loyalty. To his horror, Harold was also made to pledge that he would support William’s bid for the English Throne. The real Game of Thrones had begun.

 

Harold attending church, then feasting before setting sail for Normandy(© Wikimedia Public domain)

What choice did Harold have? Swear or never see his freedom again? Swear or risk his men being killed? Swear or not achieve the probable reason for his visit – the release of two hostages who had been held since 1053, his youngest brother, Wulfnoth, and his nephew, Hakon. He knew he would, eventually have to break that enforced oath, but what was less honourable – to willingly perjure yourself or be responsible for the deaths of men in your care? In fact, Hakon returned to England with Harold – he later died at Battle, but Wulfnoth never saw his freedom again.

After 1066, Duke William was to make much of this oath, and as for the Pope, I firmly believe that he did not sanction William’s claim until after the final outcome. England was a wealthy country, which is why William wanted it. Normandy, before the Conquest was basically just a dukedom – on the rise to power, but not yet there. The Pope, I am certain, sat firmly on the fence.

There are several feasts shown in the Tapestry, that one in Bosham before Harold set sail and there’s a scene of a banquet held by Duke William for his barons soon after they had landed in Sussex. Here, we see food being prepared, similar to a modern-day barbecue. When ready, a servant summons the guests by blowing on a horn. Another servant carries a bowl and towel for the washing of fingers and hands. The Latin text reads: Here the food has been served ... here they made a meal and the bishop blesses the food and drink.

Duke William's feast for his barons (© Wikimedia public domain)

Drinks were regarded as important as the food. Ale, beer made from Bog-Myrtle, honey meads and wines. Table etiquette was important for the Anglo-Saxons and the Normans. The order of seating was essential, nobles at the top, lesser men lower down. (Much as a modern Wedding Feast seating plan, with Bride, Groom and their parents on the Top Table.) Napkins and tablecloths had to be clean, nor was it polite to pick up dropped food and eat it without first blessing it and laying it to one side. (Presumably to then be given to the poor.) Nor was it polite to touch food with a hand that had been picking your nose or scratching your bottom!

Anglo-Saxon women, in earlier times, were usually not seated beside the men, and even the lord’s wife and daughters would be ‘cupbearers’, serving food and drink to the most honoured guests. This had changed by the eleventh century, when women of rank were accepted at table.

Battle, where it is thought Harold's shield wall stood defending England against the Normans (© the author)

Diet depended on what was seasonally available, what could be efficiently preserved and how rich or poor you were. Food would have been boiled or roasted over an open fire. Pigs were plentiful for eating as one sow would produce many offspring. There was also beef, chicken, mutton and goat, although beef was for wealthier people. Cattle were primarily used for their milk to drink and to make cheeses, as were goats. Sheep were kept for their wool, chickens for eggs, with animals only slaughtered when necessary or before winter set in. Fish, shellfish, oysters, eels, crabs and such were consumed in quantity by those who lived near the sea, rivers or lakes, with monasteries having their own fish pools: fish was essential for holy days.

Fruit and vegetables were grown, depending on the seasons:  onions, garlic, cabbage, turnips, mushrooms, beetroot, parsnips, carrots (purple or white, not our familiar orange!) Peas, beans, and anything that could be foraged such as berries, nuts and apples, pears, plums. Salt was widely used, with imported spices, again only for the rich. Honey was abundant for nearly everyone would have kept bees, and it did not need preserving. Barley, rye and oats, with some wheat, were grown, milled and baked where needed into bread. No potatoes, tomatoes or maize (corn on the cob)! They wouldn’t be eaten until much later, when the New World was discovered in the 1400s.

My friend James, sitting on some Bosham harbour steps (© the author)

As for King Harold, had he been victorious that fateful day in October 1066, the Norman Conquest would not have happened. Much changed because of it, but, fortunately, the enjoyment of a good feast has stayed the same from then until now!

Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Helen!

You can find Helen here:

HelenHollick.net

OfHistoryandKings.blogspot.com

Facebook Fan Page

Books on Amazon

First accepted for traditional publication in 1993, Helen became a USA Today Bestseller with her historical novel, The Forever Queen (titled A Hollow Crown in the UK) with the sequel, Harold the King (US: I Am The Chosen King) being novels that explore the events that led to the Battle of Hastings in 1066. Her Pendragon’s Banner Trilogy is a fifth-century version of the Arthurian legend, and she writes a nautical adventure/supernatural series, The Sea Witch Voyages. She has also branched out into the quick read novella, 'Cosy Mystery' genre with her Jan Christopher Mysteries, set in the 1970s, with the first in the series, A Mirror Murder incorporating her, often hilarious, memories of working as a library assistant. The fifth in the series, A Memory Of Murder, was published in May 2024, with more to follow!

Her non-fiction books are Pirates: Truth and Tales and Life of A Smuggler. Latest on her writing list is a book about the ghosts of North Devon, and Jamaica Gold the seventh Sea Witch Voyage.

She lives with her family in an eighteenth-century farmhouse in North Devon with their dogs and cats, while on the farm there are showjumper horses, fat Exmoor ponies, an elderly Welsh pony, geese, ducks and hens. And several resident ghosts.

 https://mybook.to/1066TurnedUpsideDown 

A collection of 'what if' alternative stories for the year 1066

Trailer link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-Q35NO9w3k 

(© the author. Note: trailer publisher information is out of date)

FOODFIC: Please Welcome Raymond T. Walker, Author of Twisted Sisters

“Coffee, please”, is almost always Ian’s first line. Ian slept badly and for him, meeting a girl was both difficult and wondrous.

Worried, he slept badly, a girl, naked, beside him. Ian was naturally charming. Neither good nor bad looking he played upon his intelligence and charm. He rose early leaving Lisa sleeping. Few girls were captivated by him but the few who listened, were not so bothered with good looks, could be ensnared by his charms. A feast awaited Lisa when she first woke in his small bungalow. A tray filled with cut peppers, tiny fresh tomatoes from his garden, sliced carrots, apples, Milano salami, stuffed olives, freshly baked bread slathered in salted butter, slices of various cheeses and cured hams as well as freshly squeezed oranges in crystal glasses.

Freshly brewed coffee.

He sat on her side of the bed and kissed her. Murmuring in her sleep she slowly came awake breathing out the alcohol of the night before, embarrassed and modest despite all they had done the night before. Each had seen all of each other. She pulled the cover up covering all of herself to the neck. I kissed her again and sat back telling her about all the morning treats that awaited her presence.

Toilet, washing, ablutions done. We sat again, as we had the night before, over the table, holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes. Nibbling the food, enjoying the coffee and juice.

We fell in love.  

This is not from the novel Twisted Sisters; rather, it was meant to reflect some of the scenes in the story. The kind of thing that may have happened but did not. The tale itself contained little about food and so I imagined what the lovers mentioned may have feasted upon...

Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Ray!

You can find Ray here:

RaymondWalker.co.uk

RayTWalker.wixsite.com/faerietales

Books on Amazon UK

Books on Amazon US

FOODFIC: Please Welcome Brenda Whiteside, Author of Cornbread, Ribs, and Murder

I started life as an artist, but after taking some evening classes in creative writing, just for fun, I discovered I enjoyed filling a blank page with words more than a canvas with paint. The first few books I published traditionally were romances. I soon expanded my genre to romantic suspense. 

And I was perfectly happy until an idea popped into my head. Twice a year, my sister and I celebrate our birthdays at an historic inn in Prescott, Arizona with a chocolate martini. We eventually called ourselves the Chocolate Martini Sisters. That’s when the idea struck. I wanted to write a cozy mystery series with two sisters who did just what we did but solved murder mysteries on their martini weekends. The more I thought about it, the more I knew I wanted a friend in Minnesota to join me in this series. She agreed and, voila, the Chocolate Martini Sisters Mystery books took flight.

Although not based on food fancies, eating related themes have come with a couple of our plots. In book one, Candy, Cigarettes, and Murder, a particularly obnoxious food critic plays a major role. The sisters, Emma and Nicole, love to eat in the Azul Restaurant and Saloon that is attached to the Dulce Inn where they spend their birthday weekends in Wyatt, Arizona. The Azul has scrumptious food that the critic somehow finds fault with.

Our third book and most recent Chocolate Martini Sisters mystery, Cornbread, Ribs, and Murder, has quite a bit to do with food. For the first time, we included a recipe in the book. In Arizona, a rib cookoff and cornbread fits the setting. Add murder, and the sisters have a lot on their plates.

It’s a rib cookoff…with a recipe for murder.

Nicole Earp and Emma Banefield are celebrating another birthday at the Dulce Inn with the added fun of a rib cookoff in the park. Not only are chocolate martinis in their plans, Nic has her heart set on winning the cornbread contest. But as the excitement bakes, someone is stirring up trouble for the inn and its employees. 

Strange occurrences at the Dulce are on the rise. Slashed tires, menacing phone calls, and unsavory characters add a vibe that threatens the sisters’ anticipated fun-filled stay. When the hot-headed hotel owner is caught wielding a bloody letter opener over a dead coworker, the sisters are embroiled in a caper to help the one person who finds their sleuthing as welcomed as a rattlesnake in her bed. But is she innocent? 

The Chocolate Martini Sisters are primed to find out. First, they’ll have to eliminate a host of suspects that includes a dishonest restaurant owner, a jilted girlfriend, an ex-wife, the barkeeper, and a masseuse with a crush. If they can stay off the radar of the surly chief homicide detective long enough, they can put out the fire…unless the killer burns them first. 

Nic is not known for her cooking acuity, but she does love trying new things. She’s entered the cornbread contest with a sweet and spicy recipe that is sure to please. Does she win? Do the sisters solve the murder mystery?

Thanks for sharing your food for thought, Brenda!

You can find all the Chocolate Martini Mystery books here:
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BQ9T7ZBX

Nic’s Cornbread

INGREDIENTS
1 cup cornmeal
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
¾ tsp salt
1/2 cup butter, melted
1/3 cup sugar
2 Tablespoons honey
1 large egg
1 cup buttermilk
1 jalapeno, finely chopped

DIRECTIONS
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Lightly grease 9-inch square baking pan.

Whisk the cornmeal, flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt together in a large bowl. In a medium bowl, whisk the melted butter, sugar, and honey together until well combined. Whisk in egg and then the buttermilk. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry and whisk until combined. Add the jalapenos. Avoid over-mixing. 

Pour batter into prepared baking pan. Bake for 20-23 minutes or until golden brown on top. Use a toothpick to test the center is cooked through. Edges should be crispy. Allow to cool slightly before serving.  

About the Authors:

After hearing countless stories as a mental health professional, Joyce Proell retired to create her own tales. As an award-winning author, she writes historical romance and cozy mystery where all endings are guaranteed happy. She shares her home on the prairie with a husband and a little dog with a big personality. When she isn’t reading or writing, she likes to swim and finds baking almost as relaxing as a day at the spa. 

Visit Joyce at her website: JoyceProell.com

or Facebook.com/JoyceProellAuthor

Brenda Whiteside is the award-winning author of romantic suspense, romance, and cozy mystery. She writes children’s books under the pen name, Brenda Sue. After living in six states and two countries, she and her husband have settled in Central Arizona. They admit to being gypsies at heart and won't discount the possibility of another move. They share their home with a rescue dog named Amigo. While FDW fishes, Brenda writes. 

Visit Brenda at BrendaWhiteside.com

or Facebook.com/BrendaWhitesideAuthor

FOODFIC: Please Welcome Natalie Bright, Author of End of the Trail Eats

END OF THE TRAIL EATS: Cowboy-Approved Recipes from the Cowtown Café to the Saloon by Natalie Bright

Eating in Cowtown.

It should warm your heart to know that potato salad has been around for over a century, and so has bread pudding, whiskey toddy, and hash. That is one of many surprising discoveries I made when researching the food of the late 1800s Cowtown. A Kansas Cowtown was the place where Texas Longhorns and Texas cowboys collided with railroaders and townspeople. As the saying goes, “No sheriff west of Newton—no God west of Dodge.”

My latest book End of the Trail Eats contains recipes for a varied collection of authentic dishes from stockyard cafes, saloons, hotels and brothels sprinkled with archival photography, Old West lore, first-hand accounts, and profiles of the townspeople. Taste the favorite sandwich of the most beautiful woman in Dodge City, Kansas or cook up a unique hot dog made famous by the notorious gunfighter Bat Masterson. As one reviewer described it, “a historical cookbook, or a cooking history book” with dishes from the real American West.

Rivalry was serious between the Cowtowns in an attempt to entice the drovers and cattle barons to sell herds at their railroad yards for shipment to processing plants back East. Not only did they serve elaborate meals, first class hotel accommodations were advertised as well. Below is a posted menu advertising Sunday Dinner posted in the Abilene Daily Reflector, dated June 1894. Only 25 cents for city residents!

Union Pacific Hotel and Depot, Abilene, Kansas
SUNDAY DINNER
An Attractive Menu Arranged by the Pacific Hotel.
The menu for the Union Pacific hotel’s Sunday dinner tomorrow is given below.
Only 25 cents to residents of the city.
MENU.
Clam Chowder
Boil Trout, Natural Sauce
Potatoes au gratin
Lettuce. Olives. Sliced Cucumbers. Sliced Tomatoes.
Boiled Sugar-Cured Ham
Roast Sirloin of Beef
Ribs of Beef, browned potatoes
Roast Turkey, Sage dressing
Smothered Chicken, Southern Style
Mashed Potatoes. Green Peas.
New Boiled Potatoes. Wax Beans.
Pickled Beets. Salmon Salad.
White Cake, lemon sauce
Strawberry Short Cake.
Apple Pie. Lemon Pie.
Vanilla Ice Cream.
Cream Cheese. Assorted Cake.
Assorted Fruit. Raisins. Assorted Nuts.
Coffee. Ice Tea. Sweet Milk.

It was Gustavus Franklin Swift who revolutionized the meat packing process by establishing markets for the byproducts and inventing the refrigerated train car. It was barbed wire and the railroads extended reach that brought an end to the cattle trailing industry and Cowtown.

Happy reading and eating!

Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Natalie!

You can find Natalie here:

NatalieBright.com

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FOODFIC: Please Welcome Julie Valerie, Author of Holly Banks Full of Angst

Holly Banks, married film school graduate and mom to five-year-old Ella, is a less-than-perfect mom searching for mostly happy in a pretty good life. But there’s a problem. New to the idyllic Village of Primm, in Holly Banks Full of Angst (Book 1 in the Village of Primm series), Holly is experiencing the worst week—ever.

But what is she eating?

In Chapter 12, during a school yard chase between Holly and the megalomaniacal Mary-Margaret St. James, Holly’s mouth is stuffed with Mary-Margaret’s peckled peanut butter cookies. Cookies, that later give her food poisoning…

Holly pushed another cookie into her mouth. Tossed the box. Mary-Margaret ran, and Holly gave chase, two women wearing the wrong kind of footwear. They ran like platypuses, strange creatures with appendages that baffled the observer and only seemed to get in the way. The limited circumference of Mary-Margaret’s pink pencil skirt compromised her running stride—legs chopping across the field like blades on scissors, feet sharpening to points in a pair of sling-back heels. Holly’s sports bra and piggy pajamas made her the dancing queen, but she had to curl every muscle in her toes to keep her flip-flops from falling off. Never mind that her mouth was chock full of peckled peanut butter cookies. It hurt to run with toes clenched in a fist; Holly’s shoes kept slipping off. She improvised by running with a sideways gait, like a lumbering giant, the way the Hunchback of Notre Dame would run if given the chance and inspiration. 

In Chapter 14, Holly’s sure her husband is eating what he always eats at Wendy’s: a number one single combo—no cheese, no onions—medium size with a Dr Pepper. But while Jack’s peppering his fries, his boss Bethanny is reaching across her salad to help herself to one of his fries... 

Holly whipped, a safe distance for spying, into a parking space and then, through the restaurant window, watched them eat as if she were watching a movie at an outdoor drive-in theater. Holly became Jennifer Aniston, with no popcorn but a front-row seat, as Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie ate their seductive dinner in Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Everyone knew what came next for Brad and Angelina in that movie: gunfire, hot sex, and an explosion that literally blew their house off its foundation. Fifty million in box office sales opening weekend. Worldwide sales of over 475 million. Jennifer? Her Hollywood ending? Not so good. And okay, it didn’t work out for Brad and Angelina either. Which proved there were no winners when a dinner like that was eaten. Was Holly jumping to conclusions? Or witnessing something she’d sensed but didn’t want to face? Was it true what they said? You knew when you knew? Because Holly knew Jack. Jack ordered a Wendy’s number one single combo—no cheese, no onions—medium size with a Dr Pepper, but was that “just” a meal? Or was that a combo meal?

And in Chapter 8, where we meet Online Psychic Betty, who gives Holly unconventional advice through late night emails, emails that always end with seafood promotions at the mysterious Dizzy’s Seafood (Click HERE for half-priced shrimp), the “What are they eating?” question is answered, this time, with a drink. 

EMAIL—Time Received: 2:24 a.m.

TO: Holly Banks

FROM: Psychic Betty, Psychic Hotline Network

SUBJECT: Your FREE “Ask the Psychic” Question

Today’s planetary alignment gives you the ability to make wise choices and seek useful information. Thank you for submitting a question to the Psychic Hotline Network. I am Psychic Betty, your online psychic. Exercise extreme caution if your child starts kindergarten between August 20 and September 10. But other than that, the answer is: NO. The universe does NOT have a secret power you can tap to help you cope with your child starting kindergarten. Have you tried vodka?

Don’t be a clod. Eat beer-battered Cod!

—Psychic Betty

Click HERE to ask another question.

Click HERE for coupons to Dizzy’s Seafood.

Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Julie!

You can find Julie here:

JulieValerie.com

Twitter @Julie_Valerie

Facebook Page

Books on Amazon

Julie Valerie, an avid Scrabble player who once played QWERTY on a triple word, writes humorous women’s fiction and is currently writing her third novel. Holly Banks Full of Angst and the second novel in the series, The Peculiar Fate of Holly Banks, feature continuing characters and can be read sequentially or as separate, independent, standalone novels. 

FOODFIC: Please Welcome D.J. Green, Author of No More Empty Spaces

A Taste of Turkey—The Country, Not the Bird

Will Ross had his first taste of adventure, and foreign cuisine, as a teenager serving as a Marine combat medic during the Korean War. That experience whetted his appetite for more—adventure, and flavors of places far and wide.

It’s 1973 when No More Empty Spaces opens, and Will, who is now an engineering geologist, has landed a job in Turkey where he’ll work on the construction of a troubled dam. And what are his first impressions?—the smells and tastes of Turkish food as he walks Ankara’s streets on his way to his first day on the job. The tangy scents of spices on roasting meat capture his imagination for future meals, and it seems the guy who loves food that makes him sweat has come to the right place. Fiery Adana kebabs will become Will’s favorite dish. On the same walk, though he doesn’t usually eat breakfast, the yeasty aroma of freshly baked bread in one bakery after another draws him in to the next one he comes to, where he tries a warm-from-the oven, chewy, and ever-so-slightly savory roll. As he chews it, he can’t help but compare it to the tasteless and textureless (unless you consider ‘marshmallow’ a texture) white bread from the grocery shelves back in the States.

But that is only the beginning, as Will and his family sample countless new foods and drinks from fruit (the apricots Turkey is famous for) to nuts (pistachios, hazelnuts, and almonds, oh my!) on their adventures in Anatolia. Two treats the family will talk about for years are the honey-rich baklava made in Gaziantep filled with the small, sweet pistachios grown there (a highlight of the local food movement before there even was one) and the ice cream like none other in the world, Kahraman Mariş dondurma, made with flour from the roots of wild orchids that gives it a thick and pleasantly gooey quality as it flows across your tongue. And then there’s the Turkish coffee.

So, it is the taste of the country, not the bird, that you’ll find in the Ross family’s story, though Will always remembers his four-year-old daughter’s reaction when she found out they were making the trip—how she’d skipped across the lawn, shouting, “A ’benture! Turkey! Gobble, gobble, gobble!”

Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, DJ!

You can find DJ here:

GeologistWriter.com

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D. J. Green is a writer, geologist, and sailor, as well as a bookseller and partner in Bookworks, an independent bookstore in Albuquerque, New Mexico. She lives near the Sandia Mountains in Placitas, New Mexico, and cruises the Salish Sea on her sailboat during the summers. No More Empty Spaces is her first novel. She is currently working on her second novel, Chances, the story of woman taking the helm of her life as she learns to command the helm of sailboat, as told by the intrepid boat dog who is her First Mate. Read more of D. J.’s writing on her website, www.geologistwriter.com.

FOODFIC: Please Welcome KJ Waters, Author of Killing Time

Imagine stepping back in time to ride a horse in the Texas plains in the late eighteen-hundreds. Can you feel the grit between your teeth? A sprinkling of that same dusty landscape served in the bowl of bison and beans, the scent of the campfire intertwining among the other flavors as you eat out of a tin cup. 

In my latest time travel novel, Killing Time, I capture this scene just outside of Sterling Texas in 1872. For me the setting holds the danger and excitement of the time in post-civil war America when the Native Americans held tight to their remaining land.

As a fun twist, I’ve put Ronnie Andrews, the time traveler, in the clutches of Jesse and Frank James who are part of a rescue party retrieving Ronnie from the clutches of the Comanches. Jesse and Frank were in Texas during that time hiding out from the Missouri law under the pseudonyms of Jere Miah and Ben. 

Soon the sun grew tired and lay along the soft plains, ready for a long night’s rest. They stopped to make camp. The stars above spoke of another time and place, for they shone in such abundance it hardly looked like the night sky she knew. 

By all appearances, these men had slept out in the open air too many times to count. Each man knew his role. They unsaddled horses and set up camp. Ronnie wondered what they could possibly use for a fire, since there was not a tree in sight. 

“Sit right there so Jere Miah can keep an eye on you.” Ben pointed at a blanket near the man making a fire. “I don’t mean to be harsh to you on account of your tumultuous day. But if we’re all going to get back alive, you need to follow some rules.” Ben spoke sternly, counting on his fingers with each point he made. “First, do not leave camp unattended. Second, do not make loud noises. All our lives are at stake here. The noise carries across the plains, and they’ll be on us in no time.” He flattened down his mustache and fixed her with a hard stare.

Ronnie nodded, wishing for her own bed instead of the dangerous open sky. 

Ben pointed at a scruffy blondish man. “Now you get comfortable, and Jere Miah will get some vittles ready.”

Jere Miah blinked rapidly, his mouth tight showing his disapproval. The unevenness of his ears gave him a young, comical look, but hard steel shone in his eyes, providing a disturbing contrast, like the killer clown in a horror movie. Not so funny. She watched him build the fire with dark, oddly shaped kindling. Soon the fire blazed with dry grass as the final ingredient. 

Ronnie was curious. “Jere Miah, what are you using for firewood there? I didn’t see a branch anywhere around.” 

He kicked a loose chip with his boot to shove it under the others in the pile under the flames. “Ma’am, we use dried buffalo chips. They’re all over these parts.” 

The only odor was smoke and a slight scent of burning grass. “I didn’t know you could burn that.” 

Jere Miah nodded as he set a pot on the flames and emptied a nearby canteen into it. When the water boiled, he emptied a dark substance into it from a small burlap sack. The scent of strong coffee gave away the contents. In another pot, Jere Miah emptied several cans of beans and stirred it with a knife. Soon the other men gathered around the fire and ate from their saddlebags waiting for the meal.

Gary approached from the darkness and handed Jere Miah a bundle wrapped in leather. It was a huge chunk of meat from an injured bison they’d encountered at the watering hole. He sliced off several dozen inch wide cubes and dumped them into the beans, stirring again with the knife. Gary wrapped the remaining meat and carried it off.

Max handed her a biscuit, and she bit into it, nearly breaking a tooth. “Careful, it’s hardtack.” It tasted like a very stale saltine.

The sun had set, and the only light was from the fire that threw shadows all around, adding an unsettling, ethereal feel to the camp. The horses were nearby, as evidenced by the occasional snort. When the coffee boiled and sat for a spell, the men dipped tin cups in the pot, coming away with grounds sticking to the edges. 

The men were quiet, but finally Gary spoke up. “Look, we’re almost home. Let’s be grateful that Rose is okay, and we didn’t lose Max.” 

A few men nodded. Jere Miah held a hand out for each man’s tin cup and ladled the chow, filling it to the brim.

Ronnie was handed a cup and spoon for her first hot meal of the day. She waited for it to cool, half listening to their conversation while lost in her own frightening thoughts of the earlier attack. It smelled good, but she was hungry enough to eat it, regardless of taste. 

A tentative bite of the hot, fragrant food left her wanting more. Ben set the hardtack in the cup soaking up the juices. Ronnie copied him and was glad for it. There were only so many beans she wanted in her system. The dried biscuit softened nicely and did enough to fill her belly, tasting a lot like a saltine cracker. The few chunks of buffalo meat were tough, but flavorful. Soon she was too sleepy to keep her eyes open and lay back, gathering the blanket around her. 

It was a small comfort to hear the male voices telling stories around the fire as she drifted off to sleep. Just before she dozed off, she said a prayer for their safety.

One thing I love about writing time travel stories is I can dive into the past, exploring the clothing, living conditions, and what food was important in those times. Those details bring stories to life. In my time travel series, Stealing Time, I send Ronnie Andrews back through the eye of a hurricane to different centuries, each fraught with dangers of the time. 

Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, KJ!

You can find KJ here:

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KJ Waters is the international best-selling author of the Stealing Time Series (Stealing Time, Shattering Time, Killing Time) and the short story Blow. Her books are described as “breathtakingly original,” with “edge of your seat” action, and “characters are so well-written that they seem like real people.” Her books are often found on the Amazon best seller list next to Outlander and Michael Crichton’s Dragon’s Teeth. 

In addition to her writing, she is the runs KJ Waters Consultancy providing author consulting services covering branding, social media, and publishing. For free chapters and giveaways, visit her website at kjwaters.com. 

FOODFIC: Please Welcome Thomas Reed, Author of Pocketful of Poseys

If my dark family comedy, Pocketful of Poseys, had a subtitle, it could almost be “But what aren’t they eating?” After a grueling struggle with Parkinson’s disease, Cinny Posey, charter member of Woodstock Nation, refuses all food and drink. Her adult children, Grace and Brian, finally embrace her exit strategy, but staff at Cinny’s healthcare facility struggle letting her dwindle. The chef is famous for his delectable homestyle meatloaf, served the first Tuesday of every month. There’s even a local story about an elderly woman, comatose for three days, who, as one first Tuesday progressed, grew more and more alert until she finally awoke, rose from her bed, slipped on a pair of tattered mules, and trundled down the hallway behind her walker in hot pursuit of the beckoning aroma. When, years later, a well-meaning but ill-advised attendant brings Cinny a cup of pureed meatloaf, she provokes a major spat with Grace, who knows her mother’s eating anything would represent a huge step backwards. Sometimes family love is not about home-cooked meals!

Other than Cinny, naturally, my characters do eat. Jetting around the globe fulfilling Cinny’s dying wish—to sprinkle her and husband Frank’s ashes in a half-dozen international locations—they relish local cuisines at every waystation: e.g. Stonegrill and pavlova in New Zealand, tiramisu in Italy, fondue in Switzerland. Actually, they ate so much in my early drafts that my title could have been “Tableful of Poseys.” It’s a lively book about challenging travel, featuring some wild adventures, but much of the story unfolds through conversation of the “family table-talk” sort. I just needed to move some of the revealing chit-chat outdoors, up mountains, along rivers, aboard planes and trains, even up at rooftop bars.

Desserts have places of honor on the Pocketful menu. Cinny and Frank founded a student co-op at college in the late ‘60s—said to have hosted two banquets a year where guests stripped at the door and ate dessert off each other’s naked abs. Cinny’s son Brian is fascinated by the possibility; Grace is mortified. This is finally a book about growing up, by fits and starts, over the course of multiple decades. Grace’s daughter, Chelsea, adored tiramisu as a child, dubbing it “teary measles.” When the book brings the extended family to Rome, “teary measles” re-emerges in a trenchant dinner-table scene that questions whether parents can ever see their offspring as full adults. Those “just-the-cutest-things” that adults treasure as a way to hold onto their babies so often turn on the intake (and output!) of food. (My infant daughter used to put her grilled cheese sandwiches on top of her head and grin insanely!) It’s striking how often those charming foibles get dredged up at Thanksgiving and Christmastime meals—dependably mortifying the former kids. Family diners beware!

They say we are what we eat. Maybe you can’t write a compelling family saga without touching on what we do—and don’t—put into our collective mouths.

Thanks for stopping by and sharing your food for thought, Tom!

You can find Tom here:

ThomasReedAuthor.com

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FOODFIC: Please Welcome Brenda Whiteside, Author of Sleeping with the Lights On

Sleeping with the Lights On
Food and Love

Sandra and Carson have a history. They’ve shared many meals together, toasted with their favorite wine, and probably had heartburn together. Afterall, they were married for five years…eighteen years ago.

In my own life, I find certain foods or drink can send me on a magic carpet ride to the past with one taste. I’m reminded of places I’ve been and people I’ve known years ago. For instance, cheese enchiladas send me back to my childhood. Mom made them at least once a week, and we most likely ate them again in a restaurant at least every other week. Born and raised in Arizona, Mexican food was a staple.

I married young, and my army husband whisked me off to Germany shortly after the ceremony. I wasn’t old enough to drink in Arizona, but I sure could in Europe. Nowadays, a strong, warm mug of German beer and I’m steeped in great memories of our tour in Deutschland…snowy, cold nights in warm Oktoberfest tents, singing, swaying arm-in-arm with friendly Germans.

Food and memories play well in Sleeping with the Lights On. Sandra is a single woman in her fifties living the apartment life with plenty of men in her past. The dinner smells wafting from the Iranian couple’s apartment down the hall remind her of her foreigner dating phase: Ahmed, Valente, and Zoltan. The current man in her life likes champagne with a peach floating in it every Sunday morning. He’ll forever come to mind when she drinks the bubbly.

With how food relates to memories, it’s no wonder when Carson plops back into Sandra’s life, the first thing they do is have dinner. He’s a Las Vegas entertainer, so they ate dinner out most of their married life. Sitting across the table from him, she’s reminded of so many meals in the years they were married. In spite of not wanting to get involved with him again, breaking bread puts her in a comfortable state of mind. Agreeing to have lunch with him the next day really sets her off down memory lane. A picnic with sourdough bread and Beaujolais wine…Nashville comes to mind. Food might just be her downfall with her ex.

Does the taste of something, or the smell of a certain food send you down memory lane?

Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Brenda!

You can find Brenda here:

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Brenda Whiteside is the award-winning author of romantic suspense, romance, and cozy mystery. She writes children’s books under the pen name, Brenda Sue. After living in six states and two countries—so far—she and her husband have settled in Central Arizona. They admit to being gypsies at heart and won't discount the possibility of another move. They share their home with a rescue dog named Amigo. While FDW fishes, Brenda writes. 

Sleeping with the Lights On: 

After two failed marriages and countless relationships, Sandra Holiday thinks she’s met the man to end her years of less than perfect choices; choices that not only derailed her travel-related career plans but also left her single and broke.  

Carson Holiday, a Las Vegas country crooner with swoon-inducing good looks, spent his adult life pursuing a recording contract and love, never holding on to either. After eighteen years, he drops back into Sandra’s life, reigniting an attraction he can’t deny.

When Carson reappears, Sandra must choose again.  Only this time, nothing’s as it seems.  A secret admirer, a redheaded stalker, and an eccentric millionaire throw her on a dangerous path, with Carson her only truth.

As life confronts her with yet another turning point, will her decisions find her eternally sleeping with the lights on – or will she finally discover a way to turn them off?

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