Archive for December, 2008

Yesterday evening, upon arriving in California (after the second most hellish flying experience of my life, more on that later) I was told that I would be going to a “physical” with the acupuncturist my father and stepmother frequent. I had been twice before to see her last summer, for ear troubles. The acupuncturist here in Upland is J. Lee Acupuncture. It is staffed by two twin women, whose anglicized names are Jenny and Gena, and who were raised in Korea and trained in ancient Chinese medicine in China for nearly a decade. They are fourth or fifth generation traditional healers. They chatter to each other mostly in Korean, but speak to their clients in English – never broken, but often simple.

Upon arriving, they sat down with my father, sister, and me, in their one room office. They used to have a nicer office but moved to this location when business slowed. They work two days a week in Upland, and three in Beverly Hills, where their other office is located.

Both dressed in white coats, they lavished praise on my sister and me, my ability to say a few Chinese phrases, and our scholastic abilities they heard about from my Dad. They rested our wrists on a small purple pillow embossed with a few Chinese characters and took our pulses. Both of us were told to have low energy. Their abilities here impress me – by looking and prodding at you, they recognize deep-set problems in your organs. Then, they harped on my sister and my postures – too slouched, not good for the spine, the conductor of energy. I told her about my anxiety issues and wavering appetite. She told me I had to eat “good food, good nutrition, for good energy. If you don’t eat well, your entire body suffers – often people who eat poorly get unstable and anxious.”

Then came the real work these women do. I was directed into a curtained-off area, where a low table with a hole for the face stood. I was asked to undress and put on a loose, hospital-esque robe. While awaiting her return, I examined a framed poster on the wall, diagramming some pressure points on an adult’s front and scalp, and those on children. Jenny does acupuncture on her 18 month old, and tell us he enjoys it!

When Jenny, the woman who worked with me today, returned, I gave her a more detailed sense of my personal history. She picked up on my over-achieving nature, telling me that I didn’t need to stress so much over my work because I clearly would do just fine. She told me that when feeling really tense I should tell myself “it doesn’t matter.” This may sound silly, but hearing her philosophical musings on letting go gave me a new perspective. She proceeded to give me a treatment to ease tension. After a harsh massage of my upper back, much clucking and talk of misalignment, she began the acupuncture. From plastic package out of the pocket of her coat, she procured a set of needles – which were about two inches long, skinny and flexible; I believe they are spring loaded, as the top of the needle, a few centimeters in length, had what appeared to be a tiny spring on it. She placed her fingers over the area to be punctured, and with what felt like a small pinch, placed the needle in my skin. Sometimes it felt as though someone had simply poked me with a fingernail, others it hurt slightly. Often my muscles flinched. She told me that this is very natural. I cannot say how deep the needles sat, but in light of the small amount of pain I believe it not to have been deep. She placed needles about my upper spine, lower back, and on my left buttock. After they were placed I could not feel them, unless I tensed and moved the area. Some needles were placed symmetrical on my body, others were not. Then, after making sure I was fine, she left, pulled the curtain closed, and left me to ruminate on the Pampers box full of suction cups below me, listen to my sister be massaged and talk to her practitioner, close my eyes and concentrate on the classical music and waterfall ambience, or, as I did, attempt to concentrate on the music but in fact listen to my talk to my father about my health (amazingly, she remembered many details from my visit eighteen months ago – and I saw no records out!).

After about ten minutes, she came in, and with quick movements and a slight pinch pulled out the needles. After asking me to flip over to my back, she repeated the same procedure, placing four needles in what felt was a diamond formation on my belly, and symmetrically placed some on my knees, the area near my big toe, and on the fleshy area behind my thumbs. Again, she left me for a few minutes, and went to talk with Gina, her partner, about Suellen. Gina had noticed that Suellen had been favoring her left leg due to a sprain of her right ankle. She told Sue to exercise more, get plenty of sun, and do stretches before all exercise. They were happy to learn that she did Aikido, an Eastern art of self defense designed by monks who did not wish to hurt their attackers.  It involves much relaxation and philosophy. Gina and Jenny knew the word in Korean.

Jenny returned, plucked the needles with swift fingers, and I dressed – a tad embarrassed at her having seen me in only my underwear, I will admit, and not my favorite pair at that.

Afterwards, Jenny talked to me again about proper nutrition –“eat three meals a day, at the same time, whether you are hungry or not. This is very important. Also” she again adjusted my shoulders back, pressed on my spine, and pushed back on my sternum “sit up straight! Be gorgeous, show off your chest. Good posture is so important. You are young, in twenty or thirty years it is bad, it is very hard to fix it.” She gave me some herbal medicine (very expensive, alas) and told me to stay away from prescription drugs “these only work so long. Some people have to be on them their whole lives! Then, they have stomach problems, organ problems, and more drugs. This is bad.”

As a practitioner of acupuncture, Jenny focuses on fixing chronic problems, not illness. She is concerned with the whole body, and can treat problems in the shoulder by messing with one’s feet. Some call this practice hokey and medieval, at best, but I believe there is something to a medicine with centuries and centuries of practice. Also, my father, quite a skeptic, swears by them: “the things they say sound hokey, and they have a hard time explaining what they are doing in English, but they do know what they are talking about.”

I find going very enjoyable. These two are very friendly, and it is nice to be fussed over, massaged, and, though it sounds ridiculous, the needles themselves can be relaxing. Perhaps it is just being left to lie on a table for ten minutes in a quiet atmosphere.

I hope I can return, and wonder what other acupuncturists around the US are like. Perhaps once back in Fort Worth I can find one there and report.

There is no legitimate definition for bistro on Urban Dictionary, and I have to admit I rate my own cognition, in general, as being reliable on words with foreign influence, so I’m just going to say that a bistro is a small eatery with an open grill, ideally with tables on the street under umbrellas, where the food is better than in your average lunch room and cheaper than a dinnerhouse, usually small, usually with cafe curtains and the grill area running along the side. In this regard, Lili’s is as close to a true bistro as I have seen in the city. And it’s on Magnolia. 

I stopped by yesterday while on a lunch trip with my Eccentric Friend, who called up and asked me if I wanted to go to Sprial Diner. Well, I’d just as soon go out to lunch as the next gal, so I packed myself up and got in the car. But since were were going to Magnolia, and since I’d already reviewed Spiral Diner (in DFW Child last year) I was agitating for something else.

“Can’t we go to Palermo’s?”

“Maybe.” She still driving to Spiral Diner.

“How about Hot Damn tamales?”

“Maybe.” Still driving to Spiral Diner.

“How about Benitos?

“Do they serve lunch?” Still driving to Spiral diner. “How about Paris Coffee Shop?”

“Do I look like I’m 80 years old?”

“Okay, then let’s go to Spiral Diner then.”  But when we got there it was CLOSED. “Guess we’ll have to go to Lili’s,” said Eccentric Friend. Lili’s is next door to Spiral Diner, by propitious chance. 

We entered Lili’s to the sound of light jazz and the clinking of silverware from behind a screen. It is dark in there, with ten interior tables and a couple on the street. We were met inside the door by the owner.

“She’s writing a restaurant review of you,” my Eccentric Friend told him.

“Aren’t you supposed to keep that a secret?” he asked. 

“I can’t control her,” I confided. And we went to sit down. 

The menu is unique and creative, and shows that someone actually designed this food for the house, it wasn’t copied out of some “Texas Haute People Food” guide. There are clear influences from Europe here. On the tables, kosher salt and pepper are offered in small serving dishes with a spoon — a nice touch. The Gorgonzola Fries with salt and a lot of pepper are American with an Italian twist. I had the Muffelleta sandwich (ham, provolone and olives on focaccia bread) considered a New Orleans specialty, and it was quite good and also huge, so that I brought home more than half to share with my husband. Eccentric Friend had Vance’s Classic Chicken Salad, which she ate with relish. 

During the meal E.F. showed me her new cookbook — You Are What You Eat by Dr. Gillian — carefully marked up with notes on how to carry out the project of revolutionizing her diet. This must be why we were supposed to go to Spiral Diner. I opened the book to a quiz of food sins such as “do you drink coffee?” and “do you eat meat or white bread?” Overall, according to this book, if you eat anything that wasn’t taken whole off the plant from which it grew, you’re in trouble. Despite being what I think of as an abstemenious eater, I had apparently racked up about 30 mortal food sins this week. And there were five or six more sitting on my plate.

“I’m starting this new diet on Thursday.” she told me.

“I know a personal trainer and dietician you can work with,” I suggested. Somehow, I know that the battle between Eccentric Friend and her food choices was going to be drawn out, not won or lost this week. I took a picture of the salt and peper jars next to the book with my digital camera, but it didn’t come out well. And in addition, the irony was just too much.

Now, the shadows were slanting rather long over the cafe curtains –  we were the last lunchers there at about 3:30 in the afternoon — and I pointed out to Eccentric Friend that is was time to go. She was planning on taking her teenaged son to Holy Hour as a disciplinary action against him for picking on his younger brother. “You’re going to miss it,” I told her. “You said it starts at 4.”

“I’ll never make it in time!” she exclaimed. “What will I do?”

“Go there for 45 minutes and tell him he’s lucky you were enjoying a late lunch.” I replied, and we got the check and  bustled ourselves out the door, the ‘go’ box with the extra muffeletta under my arm. The owner was sitting at at streetside table by the front door.  ”Hey, look, there he is, complete in chef’s jacket, get his picture,” she urged me. I have always suffered as a journalist because I’m not aggressive enough.

Restauranteur Vance Martin is both owner and Chef at Lili's.

“All right, what have I got to lose?” I agreed. I introduced myself and asked for a shot. His name isVance Martin, and when I gave my name, he instantly recognized the Italian cognome, or surname  We shook hands, it turned out he lives in my neighborhood. He gave us a few insights about doing business on Magnolia in particular and in the Near Southside in general.  E.C. and I then took off, get back in the car for our return to our region of Fort Worth — call it Nearer Suburbia. 

I told her thanks. ”You are a real lightning rod,” I said, “we’ve gotta do that again some time. ” But I wasn’t sure she heard me. She was off in another direction recounting a tale of her a psycho friend from childhood who keeps calling her at all hours and leaving extremely long and crazy phone messages … the story is so weird you really should hear it … but not today. She dropped me off at my door and I reflected that I was going to have a quality blog post almost entirely thanks to her. Exegesis?  Sometimes you need a real friend to get a good restaurant review, even if — especially if — they’re a little bit eccentric. 

Lili’s on Magnolia 1310 W. Magnolia Fort Worth Texas 76104 (817) 877-0700

Lunch and dinner entree’s about $10-$15

Monday to Friday 11-2:30 for lunch, Dinner Tuesday to Thursday, 5:30 to 9 p.m.  5:30-10. Friday & Saturday. Closed Sunday.

Editor’s note: Lili’s won the Best New Restaurant award from Fort Worth Weekly in 2007, the year it debuted.

Who should definitely go: Guys who want to impress a girl on a date. The ambiance is intimate, the food is chick-friendly without giving up meat entirely, and if it doesn’t go well, you’ve not set yourself back too far. Also, people who like a little bit of continental in their dinner.  Or anyone who wants a small, friendly place to have a cozy meal–as long as they don’t need any hot dogs or milk shakes.

“Twittering,” a social media application, is more and more becoing all I do on the computer. It has replaced journaling on paper, writing pieces longer than 140 characters, and reading. Checking my “thread” (the updates of the people I am following) on www.twitter.com has become my newspaper, my phone and my email. When I get up in the morning or return to my desk from a trip out on the town, I don’t check my email, I check twitter.

For a while I told myself that I was just working on promoting this blog. I was just keeping up on local and national news. I was making a few friends. Then my husband accused me of sustituting the 450 virtual friends on my account for real interactions with real people. I was stung to the heart. Then I was picked up by the “twitter addict” robot even though for weeks I had been avoiding using the word “addict” in my posts. How did that happen? It seems a twitter-friend mentioned me on one of *his* posts in conjunction with addiction and that aroused the robot’s interest.

I was worried. Had I been spending too much time on Twitter?

I read an article on limiting Twitter time use. It said no more than 30 minutes at a time. It said use a kitchen timer. I took another sip of coffee, looked at the screen. “I’m not as bad as those people who need to do that,” I told myself. “Besides, I get lots of good info from Twitter. Who knew before everyone else in the house about the attacks on Gaza?  Who has links to websites all over the world, on topics from blogging to dating to writing to Christian living? And if I need help as a webmaster, all I have to do is make a post and explain the trouble, and help is on the way. Twitter is like a treasure trove of SEO and WordPress experts.” I took another sip of coffee and visited Chris Brogan’s blog.

How much time to I spend on Twitter? To the best of my knowledge, about 2 hours a day. Is that too much? Because my family is starting to act as if it is. Kids come up and say, “Mom, will you ever get off that Twitter site?” I defend myself, crying out

“Leave me alone! Anyway, I’ll be off in just a minute!”

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Of course I’d like to mention that if you do social media, you can follow me on Twitter at @FWRenaissance. I’ll follow you back, in general, provided you’re not a robot, promoting a dating service, or a multi-level marketer.

@gadgetvirtuoso’s Twitter Profile

Name Matthew J Stevens

Location Fort Worth, TX

Blog:  http://blog.matthewjstevens.com/  Currently telling about becoming, with his wife, the legal guardians of his neice and nephew. 

Bio A techno geek that needs to win the lottery to buy all the geek toys he really wants!

Followed by: a little over 1300 people; follows 800

The interview: We talked with Matthew by email. 

How long have you been on Twitter? I can’t believe I’ll be on Twitter two years in just a few months, my how time flies when you’re having fun.

Who or what got you started, and why? I don’t know who or what got me started on Twitter. I most likely saw a mention of Twitter on a forum somewhere. I checked it out and signed up. I can’t believe it took me almost a year from Twitter’s launch to find it. Since joining Twitter I’ve joined a number of Social Networks (SocNets) but Twitter is one of the few that has stuck. Twitter has stuck with me because of its ease of use and the variety of people I’ve met from around the world.

How did you come up with your Twitter “handle?” For more than 10 years I’ve been known around the Internet as “KrazyKritter,” but that name no longer fit my online persona and I went on a hunt for a new handle. Gadgets and technology have long been a passionate hobby of mine so I began hunting for names that weren’t in use. Its a lot harder to find a unique name online today than it was when I began using KrazyKritter in 1996: GadgetVirtuoso is what I came up with. It can be a little bit of a tongue twister, I can onlyimagine the trouble some of my foreign friends have trying to pronounce it, a few even complained about the character length.

What twitter applications do you use? I have never been a big fan of Twitter applications and until recently. I almost exclusively used Twitter via SMS (Short Message Service commonly known as Text Messages. ) In recent months I went on a hunt for some new Twitter friends which made SMS impractical for the number of contacts I was trying to manage. (editor’s note: just imagine getting updates from over 1000 twitters on your phone. You better have unlimited texts!)  Another reason for the change was my switch from a Nokia N95 Smartphone, a mobile phone that performs PC-like functions using S60, an operating system like Windows, but for a mobile device.  S60 is a great platform but, surprisingly, lacks a decent Twitter application. I’m now using the T-Mobile G1 phone. Given the press lately I doubt many haven’t heard about this phone. The G1 uses Android, a version of Linux for mobile  phones. The G1 has a few respectable Twitter applications of which I prefer Twitli.

What is your long range goal with Twittering? That’s a really good question. Up to this day my time one Twitter has mostly been for fun and entertainment. I’m seriously looking to make a change and develop a clear defined purpose for my Twitter for the new year. Of course Twitter won’t be the only change, my blogging will be changing also.

Any advice for newbies who want to grow their network? The key is to find people with whom you have something in common and which can engage people. Posting a lot of links is OK from time to time but won’t gain you many followers in the end. When you tweet, tweet something of interest to you and people will find you as well. When first starting on Twitter it can be tempting to follow everyone but I’d avoid the temptation instead use twitter search to find people discussing a topic of interest to you. Other Twitter-centric sites such as Twitterlocal.com can help you find local Twitters. A site such as tweetbeep.com will help you find discussions mentioning keywords; I use this one specifically to alert me to tweetups and meetups in my  area. Above all of this the most important thing is to use and check into Twitter itself regularly. People aren’t likely to follow someone who posts once a week much less once a month.

* * *

Need to know more about local social networking?  More on joining Twitter, Twitter Twends and social networking in Fort Worth

Okay, Pia discovered this idea in the Rose Levy Beranbaum Christmas cookie book and I’ve adapted the recipe for our readers.  They taste like rice crispy treats, but better, and they look much more impressive. Like painted Christmas cookies and other food-effigies, these are a huge hit with kids.

These delicious little wreath cookies go faster than hotcakes in our home.

Christmas Wreaths

 

 

 

 

Lay out pieces of waxed paper on a cookie sheet. and butter the waxed paper.  Butter the bottom and sides of a saucepan (are you sensing a pattern here.) Melt 1/2 cup butter (1 stick) in saucepan, then put in about 30 large marshmallows in the pan and melt them. Do not cook too quickly or it will burn. Once the mixture is completely melted, whisk in 1 tsp green food coloring and 1 tsp vanilla, then pour in 4 cups of cornflakes. Mix together until flakes are well coated. Put pan into warm water to keep from cooling and becoming hard. Now drop the mixture onto the waxed paper in heaping tablespoons, and shape into wreaths with buttered fingers. Place a few red hots or chopped up red hot tamales candies on each wreath.  Attach the candy while the wreath is warm or it won’t stick. 

Try to fend off those who would eat them until the wreaths are cooled.  It is reported that they can keep for up to one month in an airtight container, but, we’ve never tried to keep them for more than one hour. 

Enjoy.

Everybody is somebody’s baby, and every house is somebody’s home.  We’ve covered the “hip” places to live in Fort Worth, now we want to talk about the Expensive Ones. The places that everyone knows cost the most. The places for ostentatious wealth, conspicuous consumption, 6 car garages, guest house with a pool, and probably a staff, the houses that are surely beyond what everyone else can do. These are the sells-for-a million or more crowd. So: where is the truly high end, the Neiman Marcus of homes?

Let’s start with where the Fort Worth expensive real estate is not. There’s a lot of over-$1-mil houses out in Keller that for some reason come up on the Realtor.com “Fort Worth” search. Keller is not Fort Worth. And the 30 minute drive to downtown is increasingly uncool.

This home is priced at $2.6 million, and located in the Camp Bowie area.

For a neighborhood that is considered in town, try right east of Camp Bowie. Drive up Horne Street (turns into Roaring Springs) and turn left on Marymount. Here you will find big houses on big lots where seemingly no detail of creativity or ornamentation has been passed over as “too expensive.” Houses are all different styles, from copies of baroque contentental architecture to rambling cubist designs that say “welcome back to the 1950’s.” If architecture is really a dream of happiness, this is perhaps where the dreaming has become most florid, most creative, on the high end scale of Fort Worth.

Note the multiple garages in this Mira Visa home listed at $2.4 mil.

Then there’s Mira Vista. This newer subdivision just southwest of Cityview is the “little sister” of older expensive neighborhoods, not Beverly Hills, just an amazing simulation. There are even some rolling hills and a golf course, a club house, a pool. Crime in this neighborhood is limited thanks to a guard shack and fenced perimeter.

Forest Hill (like Camp Bowie, co-listed in Hip … ) is the closest high-end detached homes to downtown. TCU is right in there too, but be aware that in TCU there’s houses of a widely varying price range.  In Forest Hill you’ll find of a number of local Old Families, as back when they got established it was the only really nice neighborhood here.

Living at Sundance Square may be the thing if you're into urban luxury.

If you want to see places that really rise above the competition, you should check out the top-of-the-line apartments in The Tower condominiums overlooking Sundance Sqaure.  Or trying living at the top of the brand-new Omni Hotel.  If you always wanted to live on Central Park in Manhattan, but can’t afford it, maybe you can here … though it’s still going to set you back, the listing we pulled up was priced to sell at $1.6 million. 

Finally, for the truly Ultimate Expensive Place to live in Fort Worth, try The Ranch. Yes, I mean where the cattle live. Actually, the ranch is not going to be someone’s first home; it’s a second home where real Texans get back in touch with their rural roots. In general, the wealthy of Fort Worth own land and cattle, and there will be a house out there in the countryside where they go and stay on weekends. In truth, many times the ranch is not the lap of luxury. But owning such a property, whether it’s in Waxahachi, the Hill Country, or up by Wichita Falls, signifies something in Texas: that you’re both well to do, and really Texan. And that, for the glitterati of Cowtown, is the ultimate ticket.

I thought I had the perfect Christmas gift, and I did, I just wasn’t aware which gift I was getting that was perfect.

I had lined things up just right, or so I thought. Now that it’s cold, I would make my husband a bathrobe. I had not sewn much this year, but I knew I could handle it. I would make his robe match my bathrobe, which was black with a red stripe, by making it red with a black stripe. How cute! The robe was made of polartec as soft as anything, and by working diligenly in the morning before he woke up, I got it put together without him having a clue he was getting a Real Hand Made gfit for Christmas. I was so excited.

Meanwhile, he had mentioned that he’d always wanted a lava lamp. “What do I get for Papa?” my daughter asked me.

The lure of the lava lamps -- the red one is his, the green one belongs to our son -- mezmerizes.

“I don’t know,” I told her, “but let me check at WalMart to see if they’ve got some cheapo lava lamps. He said he liked those.” Sure enough, they did, and I snagged one. This was good.

Little did I know that the lava lamp was about to steal the robe’s thunder.

It wasn’t too bad at first. He thanked me nicely for the robe and set up the lamp. It was warm in the house today so he took the robe off and I hung it up. Meanwhile the lamp was heating up. He went back to check it regualrly. About an hour later, as it was finally swelling, getting ready to bubble, he called everyone over. “The lava lamp, it’s working!” he told us. This was real news. His sons also cheered the lamps cheapo wax bubbles. Okay, so the lamp is cute. But …

Next I found him on the web, reading up on the lava lamp. It turns out lava lamps were  invented by a guy from Singapore (no surprise) patented in England, and sold to an American company for merchandising. The birthdate of the lava lamp was very close to our own, in the 60′s.

“I always wanted one but I could never afford it as a kid,” he said, looking at it with admiring eyes.  “Look at it go!”

Finally I had to confront him. “You know, I thought the robe was a pretty big deal too.”

He laughed. “The robe is nice, but you know how we men are, we love our toys.”

I had forgotten that. I console myself now with the belief that when the cold wind blows he will put the robe on and think about his caring and dutiful wife and her labors. But I doubt it will ever have the emotional glow of the lava lamp, that long desired item from childhood that finally came to his home. After all, just about evey guy has a bathrobe. But how many have a lava lamp?

Well, they did say for better or for worse, and the truth is, this isn’t that bad. Now I’m going off to the Joe Review to see if he got what he wanted for Christmas.

Christmas from the other side ….and, thankfully, its not the “dark side,” but adulthood.

Listening to: 18th Floor Balcony, by Blue October

So, my favorite time of year is here. Despite all the pain of the past year, the lights are up on houses all around, there is a clog of cars for the mile around every mall, and every shop markets its wares as the “perfect gift.” I admit that sometimes I feel wide awake and full of life, other times, driving around the corner can be the hardest thing I can imagine, but I make it, again.

I am left to reflect on past Christmases as I see the familiar, and the differences, for myself, in the current one.

At the toy store, I see the Playmobil barn, and remember getting it myself at the age of four or five, creeping out early on Boxing Day and seeing my parents play with it, giggling at the idea. I see our tree, loaded down with ornaments, and think of other trees, of friends and family we have spent times with. I realize why the holidays can be so hard for one struggling with loss, recent or long past. But I am not; no, I am fine. This post is not to complain, but to talk of the life that I see.

To talk of my little brother, age five, who gets so excited about every aspect of the holidays, and who, for the first time, is counting down the days to the big day. To talk of preparations necessary in a big family: people sneaking in the door with boxes under coats, bags of presents hidden in nooks and crannies, people screamed at for poking around in closets. Everyone in our family is buying for two others; we discuss who is getting who what and whether so and so will like this and whether you and I can come together to get this large item for someone else.

Cookies are baking, being frosted, and eaten as quickly. Piles of food appear in grocery bags, the fridge is full, the roast beast defrosting. We assemble our Sunday best for the afternoon at Grandma’s house, and the ensuing drive to see lights, ice cream, and then, for myself, the real pinnacle: midnight mass. Known for wonderful carols and young children asleep in pews, this family tradition stretches back as far as I can remember – back to the days when I was the one with blonde head nestled on coats, sound asleep on hard wood.

Now, I am making lists and planning on filling the stockings. Now, I am making budgets and sneaking piles of goodies through the door. I am one of the ones driving kids around town to finish buying gifts. The one standing in line at WalMart the day before Christmas Eve. Then one in traffic. The one doing the real work involved in baking (the washing and kneading, as opposed to the frosting). Yet, maybe it’s okay: after all, I am the one who gets to view the gasps and bright eyes, still dotted with a crust of ‘sleep,’ and mouths chattering excitedly. I get to decide what cookies are being made, and know who is getting what exactly. I will be awake to enjoy all the carols at Mass, to see the candles, lift up my prayers.

After all, this is good preparation. Who knows when I’ll need to employ the skills I am nurturing, with my own children? After all, hiding presents, juggling cookie batches, choosing stores, filling stockings, cooking a roast beast and half a dozen other dishes: these things are not a science, but an art.

Christmas cookies are a traditional part of many families' holiday celebrations.

If you haven’t made the Christmas cookies yet, it’s time to get started. Although we always say in this household it’s okay to make them up through the 12th day of Christmas, which is January 6th.

When I was a kid, my father used to make Christmas cookies at least once a year and sometimes twice. I don’t know what it is about my own kids – perhaps just our family is bigger — but we usually need to make them several times. They only last a few hours when they’re done. When you’ve got six kids, no food is safe.

This recipe is adapted from Rose Levy Birenbaum’s Christmas Cookie book which is still in print about 15 years after I bought it which tells you something. Yes, I recommend this book and not just for the sugar cookie recipe. But I digress. 

Start out by softening 1 1/2 cups butter. Set it out on the counter in a large bowl and go do something else for a while. Come back 1/2 hour later or more and put in 1 1/2 cups sugar. Cream sugar and butter together. Next add two eggs, zest from one large or two small lemons (optional, but does make a difference) and 1 teaspoon vanilla. Now you should have a slightly soupy very sugary batter. Mix well. If you have an electric mixer, let it run for a minute or two. By hand, beat until smooth. Now put 4 1/2 cups flour and 1/2 teaspoon salt into a sifter. You may have to hold back some of the flour from the first sift since the average sifter only holds 4 cups. Sift the flour and salt over the batter. Mix well. 

Now, put in the refrigerator for at least half an hour. If you’re in a hurry, you can take the dough out of the bowl and wrap it in celophane, in a long thin shape so it will cool faster. If not, just put a plate on top of the bowl.  Consider the flat work surface, such as a counter or table, on which you’re going to roll out the cookies. It should be clean, so wipe it off carefully and let it dry now. If the counter is damp rolling out the cookies will problematic.

When you come back, the dough should be cool to the touch. Turn oven on to 350 degrees and get out the baking trays and the cookie cutters. I find the most functional cutters are the ones that are more blocky and medium sized, however, if there are kids around they will insist on using whatever they like. I have learned to make a rule that they chose 4-6 cutters before we get started, then we put the rest away. Having too many different shapes can complicate the baking process. My personal favorites are

The Round Ball — decorate like a Christmas ornament

The Star

The Christmas tree — try using different sizes & shapes.

The Santa — it can be hard to decorate but worth it for effect on children.

The Angel — like Santa, it can be tricky if it has outstretched wings, but a big favorite with kids.

Spread out a handful or two of flour on the work surface, smooth with your hand to made a place to put the dough down maybe one foot across. Put 1/4 of the dough in a ball onto this floured space. Sprinkle another handfull of flour on top of the dough. Now take out the rolling pin and start to roll it out. When it’s about one inch thick, add more flour to each side and then continue rolling. The thinner you roll it, the crispier the cookies will be. If you like soft cookies, roll it 1/4 inch thick. If you like crispy ones (my favorite) it’s more like 1/8 inch. 

Another thing to explain to kids, if they are helping — you want to make each tray of cookies the same cutter shape. This makes it much easier to obtain uniform baking of the entire tray. If you have different sizes on the tray, by the time they are all done, some will be overcooked. 

After cutting out the cookies from the first rolling of the dough, add more fresh dough to the scraps and knead to get it into a ball, then start over again. 

Bake the cookies for 8 to 12 minutes, depending on the size of the cutter you chose and the thickness of the dough. Just keep them under observation. When they’re done, stack on cookie trays or newspaper and wait for them to cool while you make 4 dishes of frosting of different colors. You can buy frosting in a can but we make our own by following the recipe for buttercream icing in the Better Homes and Gardens cookbook. Or the Joy of Cooking, it doesn’t matter. The only way you can really ruin frosting is to add too much liquid, so be careful about that.  Add the liquid slowly. 

Put a butter knife with each dish of frosting and assemble the volunteers, if you have them.  Put whatever cookies survive the frosting process (some will get eaten) aside. Don’t stack them unless the frosting is dried. Enjoy!

When we woke up this morning, it was 34 degrees but the dog still wanted to go for his morning walk. We had to put on one of his sweaters.

He doesn’t mind this too much, though he sometimes growls a little as you put his paw in the sleeves.