Telling the Bees, Plus Books + Bites

Circle of Friends + Roasted Cauliflower with Herby Crisps

One of my favorite newsletter writers recently published his weekly horoscopes. Mine held a story about a practice in Medieval Europe called ‘telling the bees,’ in which ‘beekeepers [would make] formal reports to their hives of significant events in the human world, like births, deaths, marriages, and departures. They believed the bees needed to be continually informed so as to ensure robust honey production.’ Then he invited his readers to – inspired by the practice – ‘keep your community fully apprised of what’s happening in your life.’ I fear there would be multiple bee suicides upon being apprised of our current news cycle, but the general idea is pleasant, as is the takeaway: that sharing with community, rather than keeping to oneself, reaps benefits. I’m generally not a sharer, but in the spirit of the prompt, I’ll say that I’m anticipating big change this year. There’s lots of work to be done but I’m feeling ready – excited, even. Below, a book that you can’t not love, and a dish inspired by two of my culinary heroes.

Read

Circle of Friends by Maeve Binchy, pub. 2007
Buy: Thriftbooks.com or your local bookstore

I’ve spoken to you before about my Notes app reading lists: one of books I’ve read, another of books I want to read, and a third of authors I want to read / love and don’t want to forget if I’m in a bookstore. Maeve Binchy’s name has been on the author list for ages. It reads, and I quote, “Maeve Binchy’s novels. All of them!”

Binchy is one of Ireland’s most beloved novelists, publishing 16 works of fiction over the course of her life (plus a dozen short story collections; novellas; even plays). She’s best known for her portrayal of small-town Irish life. Say less! I started with Circle of Friends. I think I saw the movie version ages ago (Chris O’Donnell’s heyday, swoon) but hadn’t realized it was based on a book. And man, how sweet it is. It’s 600 pages and I read it over two rainy days up in Stinson the other week, only breaking for meals and dance videos (the things you do when you’re alone in a cottage in the rain!).

This novel is read-by-the-fire material. Can’t-get-out-of-bed-because-it’s-too-good material. Stay-up-til-3am material. I hadn’t read something like it in awhile; it totally engrossed me. Binchy’s prose is the equivalent of being wrapped in a woolen blanket (Irish wool, obv). It’s not that her characters don’t face conflict, or that it’s all smooth sailing. There are stakes (high ones), family trauma, inner turmoil, romance gone wrong. She draws each character so deftly and with such nuance, and builds a world so exquisitely, that it feels entirely real – and therefore you’re invested from the quick. An author’s ability to make you care is a special thing. How many times have you read (or watched) something and said, ‘I actually don’t give a shit about these people. Next!’ (Innumerable, is my answer.) But Binchy doesn’t win you over with anti-heroes; she works even harder, building out people who are good, wounded, immature, reckoning with the problems we real humans reckon with. It’s also – like we’ve discussed before – a pre-iPhone novel, which just hits different.

Benny – sheltered only child of overbearing parents, insecure about teenage things, always ready with a joke – and Eve – orphaned, raised in the town convent, firecracker, brooding – befriend each other as children at the beginning of the book in the (fictional) town of Knockglen – close-knit, gossip-ridden, traditional. From there, we follow them to high school, then college, where their worlds expand. They meet Nan – beautiful, sly, removed – and Jack – handsome, athletic, genial to a fault; both relationships test the limits of the girls’ friendship, and their loyalties. There’s romance, but the heart of the novel centers around Benny and Eve’s friendship – one of the best friendships I’ve read rendered on the page, in fact. The trick of this book is its utter readability. You think you’re reading pulp but there’s deep, gut-punching stuff here. You’ll laugh, too. I’m slowly collecting the rest of Binchy’s oeuvre and plan to dig in the next time it rains.

Eat

Cooking ruts happen to everyone; restaurant owners are sadly no exception! One of the best ways I dig myself out of the muck is thumbing through my (busting-at-the-seams) cookbook collection. Not to follow a recipe, per se, but to find inspiration in the pages. I got my start training professionally in kitchens via Yotam Ottolenghi, when I staged at Nopi in London for a month in 2014; it totally changed my life and how I look at vegetables and building flavor. Over a decade later and he remains beloved and relevant. His recipes are – dare I say – even more delicious for having branched out to embrace myriad cultural influences (London is a true melting pot, and Ottolenghi’s kitchens are famously diverse). After reading a recipe of his that called for shallow-frying cilantro, I knew I had to try it (I’ve fried hardy herbs like sage but never softer ones). I also knew I wanted to use limes, as it’s citrus season in California and I don’t think limes get enough attention (lol). To nudge my brain a bit further, I opened a tome that is so very special to me: The Flavor Thesaurus by Niki Segnit. In it, Segnit – a food writer and flavor savant – has created a veritable encyclopedia of flavor-combining. It’s scientific, nerdy, and an incredible jumping off point if you’re feeling like you need a gentle spark in the inspiration department. I turned to ‘Lime’ and was met with: cilantro, coconut, cumin and peanuts, among other things. From there I improvised a shallow-fried herby sprinkle that tops this dish. It’s incredibly tasty and the whole thing takes about 20 minutes to come together. I urge you to make it – and, if you’re so inclined – tell the bees.

Roasted Cauliflower with Herby Crisps
Serves 2

½ pound cauliflower, separated into florets
Evoo
Kosher salt

Herby Crisps
⅓ cup evoo
½ heaping cup chopped cilantro (measure after you chop)
¼ cup unsalted peanuts, chopped
⅓ cup coconut flakes
1 teaspoon cumin
Maldon
1 lime, to serve

Roast the cauliflower with a healthy glug of olive oil to coat and a sprinkle of salt in a 425F oven until caramelized (timing depends on the type of cauliflower you use: I had sprouting cauliflower, which generally roasts more quickly; it took 10 minutes on the bottom rung of the oven). While the cauliflower roasts, make the topping: In a small saucepan on medium heat, heat the olive oil until it shimmers. Add the cilantro, peanuts, coconut flakes, cumin and a healthy pinch of Maldon and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the coconut takes on a bit of color, about 7 minutes. When the cauliflower is ready, artfully arrange it on a plate and spoon the herby mixture on top. Squeeze over the juice of ½ lime and serve.