FEAR NO WEEVIL

Luna taste tests a fine book

     This week’s title is brought to you by poet Tess Lecuyer, and it grew out of a Facebook conversation I started, asking for opinions on a title for the next Jaguar Addams novel - A Strangled Cry of Fear, or Haunting Fear?       Things got out of control pretty quickly. My Lithuanian ‘cousin’ Tomas Chepaitis threw a Walt Whitman quote at me  - A Strangled Cry I heard while moving through the fear.  Nora offered 5 Shades of Fear, a paranormal parody, and Trevor came back with Fear and Loathing in Space Vegas, which Tess read as Fear and Loathing of Space Vegans, and so on.     Fear got flung wildly about, including  Fear No Weevil, title for a Jaguar Addam’s baking book - with recipes like HeadCheese Pie: Find an enemy and take off his head. Marinate thoroughly with tequila for three days, etc. etc.       That kind of thing is inevitable when writer’s get in a room, virtual or real.  I remember when Tess and I were taking a poetry workshop in grad school, the class had an impromptu competition on who could write the best poems on certain male and female parts.  We all won.  The victory is in the play itself, which is as important as the main rule of cooking - PLAY WITH YOUR FOOD!     What we’re really doing is the equivalent of a food fight, using words.  We’re flinging funky sounds at each other and laughing at the mess we’re making, gleefully immersed in the particular tastes and textures that hit us in the face.       Just as food is more than caloric count and nutritional value, words are more than definitions.  They’re rich with with flavor profiles, and the sensuality of sound.  For instance, my friend Sarah says she prefers Haunting Fear, based only on the sound.  To her, the consonants in Strangled Cry give it an odd, clumsy cadence, while the softer sounds of Haunting Fear are more mysterious.   And I may choose Strangled Cry because of the odd cadence, which creates a sound beyond the meaning. Ziggy would read the food bag, if he knew how     Keep in mind that this whole formula is totally reversible.  while you lick the words you write, you should also listen to what you cook.  Words taste, but food talks.  It's a language, and can be used to communicate a particular message.   If my husband’s birthday meal is pizza, fried calamari, cheesecake and beer, I’m encouraging him to relax.  Reminding him he doesn’t always have to be Mr. Responsible. If I want to tell him how much richness he’s brought to my life, prime rib and scallops wrapped in bacon would be the better choice.         As for Fear No Weevil -  Fling it around a little. Feel free to suggest recipes, real or surreal.  I'll surely fling something back. 
   Meantime, you can listen to Tess’s Villanelle For Lily , and try out her Fear No Weevil Scones.      I’d be hard pressed to say which one tastes better.You can visit Jaguar on Facebook , where she’ll offer her own recipes for magic at your request.  She doesn’t actually cook, but she’s great with a spell.  Fear No Weevil Scones   (also known as the Scones of Lost Space Vegans)4 cups flour½ cup sugar½ teasp salt1 1/2 Tablsp baking powder1/8 LB. butter (half a stick)Cut up cold butter & work it in with your hands until there are no lumps bigger than lentils. Those lumps are okay, and even encouraged.Make a well in the dry, add2 cups half & half 1 teaspoon vanilla1 cup “stuff” – currents, berries, chocolate chips, anything not too wet. Kind of toss together. Very dry dough – you may need to mush it together with your hands but DO NOT KNEAD. Add tiny trickles of milk if you absolutely have to.Still resisting the urge to knead the dough – perish the thought, okay? Pat it gently into a 1” high disk. Cut said disk into as many wedges as you think are necessary. Position wedges on baking sheet, brush with milk and sprinkle with turbanado sugar (sugar in the raw) because it is pretty. Bake 350F until gently brown on edges.