A cause for celebration

This Thanksgiving is suddenly extra-special.  My lovely sister-in-law is engaged!

SIL’s brand-new fiance comes with the Petite Chablis and Econo Man stamp of approval.  We call him “Captain Awesome,” after a character on “Chuck” who shares many of our future brother-in-law’s awesome qualities.  Needless to say, we are beyond thrilled for SIL* and Captain Awesome!

We are also beyond thrilled to pass along our wedding planning books.  I had no freakin’ clue what to do with them.  (I am too lazy to sell things on eBay.)

I can’t wait to see how their plans take shape.  I can’t wait to dance at their wedding, to drink champagne and celebrate with them as they start their married life.  I can’t wait to visit them for Thanksgiving one year.  I can’t wait to introduce our kids to their cousins — because, genetically speaking, said cousins have an excellent chance of being Awesome.  This Thanksgiving, I’m thankful for the future.

… is it wrong that I’m also thankful for the chance to party at a wedding that I didn’t have to plan?

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*  SIL needs a good nickname.  The obvious ones, however, are problematic.  On “Chuck,” Captain Awesome’s wife is named Ellie.  SIL’s parents occasionally call her Mouse.  I fear both of these would become confusing, given that I am blog buddies** with two fabulous women who use those names!  Any other suggestions? SIL is a lawyer, if that helps.

** Is this the accepted term?  Or is “blog friends” better?

Yet more ridiculously impractical glassware!

You guys.  I thought these were awesomely impractical.  But you’ll never believe what I just found.

Port sippers from WineEnthusiast.com

Port sippers!!  You sip the port through the narrow “straw” at the side; it ends up looking like you’re smoking a pipe filled with port.  Ridiculous, I know, but they’re a lot of fun to hold in your hand, and they somehow seem homier and more relaxed than the baby thimble-sized wine glasses usually used for port.

Econo Man and I used port sippers exactly like these at Imagery Winery in Sonoma when we tasted the fabulous Imagery Petit Syrah port.  We even tried to find them at a store where we registered, a high-end place that had all of the stemware known to man.  The employees at the store had never heard of such a thing.  I figured Imagery had special-ordered them, and forgot about them until I rediscovered them in a most unexpected place: Skymall.

Yes, Skymall.  I always read Skymall as the plane is making its descent, after they make you turn off your portable electronic devices for landing.  I have never been tempted to buy anything I’ve seen in its pages, but I’m tempted now.

Has anyone else ever used these?

Impractical household item of the week

I have a terrible weakness for glassware.  I think it stems from my days in the chem lab, when I used an absolutely staggering array of delicate little glass toys, most of which had exactly one very specific purpose.  So now, of course, I think it’s perfectly sensible to have zillions of different glasses in my home, for champagne and white wine and red wine and even port. (Econo Man keeps shooting down my desire for those incredibly giant red wine glasses, the ones that are 22+ ounces.  He says they are “impractical” to store in our small apartment.  Stupid logic.)

Currently, I’m lusting over these cute shot glasses from CB2.  OK, I don’t really drink shots.  But how much fun would it be to serve Lemon Drop or Cosmo shots out of these at a party?

How cool are these? Image from CB2.com

Thanksgiving: the unexpected pleasure of adulthood

Back when I was a kid, I hated Thanksgiving.  Well, I take that back.  I loved Thanksgiving when my aunt and uncle hosted us and my aunt did the cooking (she is a fabulous cook).  I hated Thanksgiving when it was our turn to reciprocate.

On Thanksgiving morning, my brother and I would be reluctantly roused from our sleep to start dusting the house — the impending arrival of company was a good excuse for my poor mom to force her lazy kids to pitch in with the cleaning.  Meanwhile, my parents would get started on the cooking.  They were actually pretty good cooks, but for some reason, my mom’s turkey always turned out overdone and sawdust-y.  I dreaded those dry, chewy turkey leftovers.  Then came my least favorite part of the meal: the Swedish sweet-and-sour cabbage.  I think my mom liked it because it was such a lovely purple-red color.  But red cabbage boiled in vinegar was not my idea of a yummy treat, and the smell would spread through the entire house.  (Every time she made it, my mom was stunned that I didn’t eat any, and would insist that last year, I’d loved it.  I would like to go on the record saying that I do not love, nor have I ever loved, Swedish sweet-and-sour vinegar boiled cabbage.)

All that by way of saying that for a long time, I never had any idea how much fun hosting Thanksgiving could be!  Now that Econo Man and I have taken over hosting duties (this year will be our 4th as hosts), I look forward to Thanksgiving every year.  I love having our families over to our place, and showing off our grown-up food-making skills.  I love setting the table with our good glasses and a real tablecloth, choosing the side dishes and the wines, and watching my husband work his magic on a delicious, moist, flavorful turkey.  The secret, apparently, is to roast the bird upside-down, because if you do, it self-bastes as all those juices from the breast run down over the rest of the bird. I love sitting down to a delicious meal that we got to plan, that doesn’t include any of the dishes I loathed (no sweet-and-sour cabbage, or canned green beans here!).

I also love not having to be the one who braves the airport at Thanksgiving.  Is there a more horrible US travel day in the year than the Sunday after Thanksgiving?  I doubt it.

What are your unexpected pleasures of adulthood?

Bad news and good news

The bad news: I got my first official rejection for a job application.  Fortunately, it was not a position I was very excited about (it was about a hundred zillion miles from Boston, for starters), and I suspected that I wasn’t a good fit for it anyway.  Still, rejection isn’t much fun.  Also, still in limbo on the three East Coast jobs, but I’m pretty sure limbo = rejection letter on the way when they get around to it.

The good news:  I also got my first official request for further materials, which means I made the short list for someone!  Hooray!  It’s nice to know that my CV and cover letter are capable of catching someone’s eye.  I was starting to worry that I might have botched my applications in some way that I didn’t realize.

Two more applications went out this weekend, and I’ve got a third sitting on my desk waiting to be taken to the post office.  Even though none of these jobs are anywhere close to the Boston area, I feel renewed optimism — we *will* make this work.  We will!  I just need to make sure I’m the strongest candidate I can possibly be, and the next time around, maybe there will be something in Boston, or someplace where we could maybe pull a spousal hire.

Thanksgiving wine suggestions!

I’ll be the first to admit it: one of the main reasons I married Econo Man was his turkey-roasting skills.  The ability to roast a perfectly moist, flavorful turkey does not exactly run in my family (more on that later), and with my husband on turkey duty, I’m free to concentrate on my favorite parts of Thanksgiving dinner: the side dishes (apple cornbread stuffing, roasted garlic mashed potatoes, and warm yummy rolls) and, of course, the wine.

Which brings us to: 5 American Varietals to Try at Thanksgiving.

The sentimentalist in me insists that a Thanksgiving wine should be from America, so that’s where my suggestions will be from.  But if you prefer your Thanksgiving to have a more international flair, a nice Bordeaux, New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, Malbec, or Chilean Cabernet will never go unappreciated!

Is there a Regretsy for academic papers?

I peer-reviewed a paper for a journal this week, and … hoo boy.  Without going into too many details, let me just say that there was a typo in the title of the paper, and the author’s failure to proof-read the title turned out to be a reflection of the level of thought and careful preparation put into writing the rest of the paper.  It was, to put it bluntly, a train wreck in prose form, a poorly researched essay that would have been unacceptable as a final project for a freshman research seminar.

Which left me with a dilemma.  What the devil did I write in the referee report?

I do not like to be mean to other people’s work.  I think that graduate students are too often taught to tear others down, rather than offer constructive criticism, and I’ve commiserated with many a friend over unhelpful or flat-out vicious referee reports.  I didn’t want to be That Guy (or That Gal).  But at the same time, the paper was *so bad* — what constructive criticism can you offer something that the author appears to have thrown together overnight with almost no research?  Ultimately I settled on saying that the piece was not suitable for this journal, I listed a few of its shortcomings, and I recommended that it be rejected.  Concise and to the point, not unnecessarily nasty or insulting, but clear about the paper’s problems.  I’ll admit it: I pulled my punches.  But I felt more comfortable with my gentler version than with the more acerbic style I’ve seen from other reviewers.

Fellow academics, how gentle are you when assessing a truly incompetent piece of work (whether from a peer, or from a student)?  Do you try to find kinder ways to explain the paper’s shortcomings, or do you think that blunt is best?

In praise of carafe wines

The year after we graduated from college, my college roommate M and I did a ten-day tour through Italy. One night, M took me to a tiny restaurant in Florence that she’d discovered during her semester abroad in Rome. It was a charming, inexpensive place with only five tables, and when the owner asked if we wanted wine, we of course said yes. I expected her to bring out a wine list, but instead, she brought us a simple carafe of red wine.

The "Vinny" Carafe, from Crate and Barrel -- a great inexpensive Christmas gift for any wine lovers!

One of the reasons I enjoy wine is that it’s intellectually stimulating.  I’m fascinated by the different techniques, the different regions and traditions of winemaking, and the astonishing variety of grapes.  I like thinking about why wines taste different, and putting my finger on why I enjoy some wines more than others.

But you know what?  Sometimes I just want a glass of red wine to drink with dinner.  And that carafe wine at the little restaurant in Florence could not have been more perfect.  I have no idea what kind of wine the owner put in that carafe.  All I know is that it was delicious, homey and warming and perfect with the food.

Econo Man and I are always on the lookout for good “carafe wines,” or everyday red wines that aren’t terribly expensive or complex, but are lovely to drink with most foods.  My favorite carafe wines are almost all inexpensive Italian reds.  Di Majo Norante Sangiovese is one of our longtime favorites, but any Italian Sangiovese is worth a try.  My wine-snob father recently discovered Sangiovese and calls it “the ultimate food wine.”  (Side note:  I’ve found that wines labeled “Sangiovese” are often a better deal than the ones labeled with the better-known designation “Chianti,” even though most Chiantis contain a healthy dollop of Sangiovese.)  I also love Montepulciano d’Abruzzo, another Tuscan red — Masciarelli is a good bet, widely distributed and very tasty.  You can also find good carafe wines in unexpected places.  Alamos Malbec, for example, is much softer and less complex than most Malbecs from Argentina, and makes for a good easy-drinking dinner wine (although, at $13 a bottle, I would probably go for the cheaper Italian reds over this one).

What are your favorite “everyday” wines?

Feeling sorry for myself

I’m getting a very strong feeling that the first 3 jobs I applied for have put my application in the “reject” pile.  I’m not that surprised, really — one was an insanely competitive postdoc, one was a tenure-track job at a world-famous R1 university, and one was a tenure-track job that didn’t quite fit with my field but was at a great liberal arts college (my dream job) and I figured “what the hell, I’ll give it a shot” — but I’m still feeling down about it.

I was hoping at least one of these places might interview me, or request more materials (indicating that my CV made the first cut), but that appears unlikely given their timeline.  All three of these early-deadline jobs want to interview and choose by December.  And the worst part?  All three were on the East Coast.  The postdoc was in Boston.

I know these jobs were super-competitive, and that none of this means I’m unqualified or a bad scholar.  But emotionally, that’s how it feels.  And it’s even worse that the rest of the jobs I’m applying for are scattered around the country, and seem to get increasingly far away from Econo Man.  I feel like I’m failing him and failing our marriage because I’m not good enough professionally — which is not a healthy or reasonable way to look at it, but sometimes the bad thoughts pop up unbidden.

Time to play more Rock Band with my husband and remind myself that things *will* be OK.

Election depression

After last year’s election frenzy, I thought this time around would be relatively peaceful and angst-free.

But … damn it, Maine.

That’s all I have to say, really.  Damn it.  Maybe I’ll feel more eloquent in a couple of days.