Themes in the FLU SEASON Saga

By now you've gotten your copy of THE GRANDSONS and are quickly learning what happened to Bart, the young son of Maggie from Book 5. It is a tragic story, but not without some joys, as Maggie wishes for her son. Even Bart himself sees connections between events in his life and those who went before him.

Now that THE GRANDSONS (Book 6) has launched (albeit unexpectedly early), I can reveal some of the themes that weave through the series. In this latest volume, I didn't hold back letting the theme show. It is in the epigram at the beginning, a quote from "The Way of the Son" - the opera Maggie composes based on the notebooks of her great-grandfather, Sandy. In fact, Book 2 is titled THE WAY OF THE SON and follows Sandy and his young family as they struggle to survive after leaving the island where they briefly had sanctuary. That year-long adventure becomes a test for Sandy. He nearly succeeds only to ultimately fail in DAWN OF THE DAUGHTERS (Book 3).

The Way of the Son is fraught with danger, menace at every turn, and a lot of stupid mistakes that pop up when you least can handle them.

 

Sandy writes the line in one of his notebooks, and Maggie draws from it for her opera at the end of THE GRANDDAUGHTER (Book 5). Bart sees the start of her composing effort before he disappears. Yet the theme stays with Bart, haunts him, providing a challenge for him. He takes it as a test for himself, believing he must do better than his ancestor did. Bart, too, has many of the same flaws and does the same kind of things Sandy failed at. Bart is a flawed character, in literary critic terms, who tries and tries but fails as much as he succeeds. Partly it is due to his circumstances, but more often his varied choices, perceptions, and how moments turn him back and forth like a weathervane in the wind. In the end, the storm comes for him.

As THE GRANDSONS launches, I've been writing a new book, what I could call Book 7. It began as a lark, something to do while THE GRANDSONS sat to await one more read-through/revision. Tying the timeline together with other books of mine (see this post), I set this new story more than 200 years after Bart's time. Civilization has fallen further, become medieval - even in Missouri. It shall be titled THE WARRIORS BAUMANN.

At one point our heroes meet some actors who perform the famous play "The Way of the Son" - based on the songfest by Maggie Baumann. Everyone knows some of the songs from the old opera, it seems. As a comedy, Book 7 plays the play for laughs, twists lines so they now sound like legend rather than the scribbling of a desperate teen boy trying to save his young wife and daughter during a pandemic.

Another major theme in the series involves the often tumultuous relationship between mothers and sons.

THE BOOK OF MOM (Book 1) gives us Sandy and his single, never-married mother, Polly, a music professor and tuba player. She's gotten along on her own for most of her life and often lords over her autistic son. Sandy sees her behavior as love, protecting him, encouraging him to stand tall and be strong as the pandemic worsens and they flee their city. It is time for him to be tough, so his mother pushes him, teases him, makes him be strong for what lies ahead. Up to a point where Sandy realizes his mother's weaknesses and unrealistic advice. He tries to save her only to fail. His failure gets him and his young wife/cousin exiled from the island sanctuary - leading to THE WAY OF THE SON where he must grow up fast and take charge, though often making mistakes - much like Bart does in Book 6.

To a lessor extent, there is mother - daughter conflict in DAWN OF THE DAUGHTERS, but adult Sandy still struggles to reconcile his relationship with his mother. 

As baby Isla grows into a young woman, she becomes the mother who has conflicts with her own son, Fritz (who goes by Frank in adulthood). Fritz also tries to figure out his mother in THE BOOK OF DAD (Book 4) as she reaches the end of her life. Being in the reconstructed capital with all of its Ideal Society rules and restrictions, Fritz/Frank fights to tell the truth about what happened during and after the pandemic - even as government entities, including his own older half-sister (Isla's daughter) who is now in charge, refuse to accept it as truth. This Big Sister insists the pandemic never happened: only a few localized pockets of sickness. Fritz/Frank upholds his mother's lived experiences to his detriment.

And in THE GRANDSONS we find young Bart at odds with his mother, Maggie, who wishes him to follow in her musical footsteps only to see him take more interest in his uncle's ranch and desire to follow him as a lawman. As Bart struggles to "find himself" he knows he can't face his mother again after what has happened. Yet his mother continues to haunt him as he goes through his life. Dreams, nightmares, visions, voices, ghosts seem to rag on him too many times, keeping him on edge. 

A final major theme weaving through the series is the idea of needing someone to carry on: the family name, the family blood, ideas about connectedness and salvation in survival. 

In each book characters raise the idea of carrying on the family, like it is a crucial task - which would make sense in a time of pandemic, virus, and death. Who will survive? By golly, we need someone to survive. That idea pressures the characters to try to have babies. Even a group of scientists has set up a breeding program since half the population has been lost through disease, war, and starvation. 

It isn't so much a matter of the author's personal beliefs (I know many people do not want children or are unable to have children), but in this story setting the urgency to make a baby is truly a matter of survival. It is a realistic situation, a plausible mindset. Each generation in the series eventually must rely on the younger generation to care for them and to carry on the family, to continue civilization, and therefore humanity - a universal theme.

This final theme shall definitely reappear in THE WARRIORS BAUMANN, leading to the ultimate novel to be titled: A TIME OF KINGS.

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(C) Copyright 2010-2025 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

Writing Motivations: An Exercise in Self Therapy

Sure, writing a story is about creating something chiefly for entertainment. You could also include a message or two. Add some personal episodes. Tell some idea you may have about something, relevant or not. A lot of stories (and novels!) are based to some degree on the author's own experiences. That's not a requirement; usually it's because the real event fits nicely into the story and it's often easier to borrow than to invent from whole cloth. I've certainly done that with my 20 novels.

I began with a cool idea. What if this happened? I wrote it out, exploring the idea, testing it. Not too interesting in itself, I soon learned. Have to add characters who are interesting; they can deal with the problem. Then the problem becomes interesting because readers see it through the eyes and mind of the character. Most of my books begin with an interesting premise but it is always explored through the main characters' experiences.

What about exploring yourself? 

My first completed novel was back in 1981 (remains unpublished). I was not exploring my own issues in that. It took another novel (1983; published in 2020) for me to see something in it that reflected my own condition. In my youth, I often would explore a situation as if I were only an example, a test subject, even though - had I been pressed - I might have realized I was figuring out something about myself. 

That side effort of writing a fictional piece became more apparent as I got to grad school and entered an MFA program I believed would help launch my career (it didn't although I did learn some valuable things). Since then, I've noticed how the things in my real life that nag me, that cause me grief, or puzzle me can be worked out through invented characters substituting for me. I can have characters do what I would never dare do, say, or even think, in my real life.

A few examples.

The example that comes most quickly to my mind, is my so-called crime thriller novel EXCHANGE (May 2020). Although the plot of story doesn't involve anything in my real life, I did draw liberally from my real life to inform certain scenes and find the grief in the main character, making it more real and visceral. Early in 2019 my elderly mother died. Although we knew it was getting close, it still came as a surprise when I received the phone call from the hospice. I didn't feel anything for a while, even as I went through the steps I was supposed to go through, e.g., grieving, settling her estate, etc. But something was boiling deep in me and I let it come out in my writing: the main character in the novel suffers the murder of family members in a mass shooting (not a spoiler). I put everything I was feeling into what I had the character feel, what he said to the psychologist, how he acted. In a strange way, it was easy to write; I felt it and it flowed out my fingers onto the page. And in that way, that letting it out through the page, I did manage to find closure.

When I wrote the first volume of my vampire trilogy, A DRY PATCH OF SKIN (October 2014), I was determined to stay in a hyper-realistic mode. I set the story in the same city and the same time as I was writing it. I used my real feelings to infuse the main character's feelings in regard to his relationship, the love interest, and about his own morality. That was me doing the feeling, doing the thinking, and putting it on the page for others to "enjoy". When I wrote about his relationship with his parents in the second book, SUNRISE (April 2018), I could draw from the relationship I had with my own parents (although they were not vampires). Again I cut and pasted from actual everyday experiences I had with them.

In my FLU SEASON series, which began with what I believed would be a one-off stand-alone novel about a single mother and her teen son surviving a worse pandemic/lockdown than what most of us experienced in real life, I found a lot of connections to exploit. 

The first book, THE BOOK OF MOM (November 2022), is narrated by the teen son who "suffers" from Asperger's syndrome, a form of autism. I chose to have the character that way because I was, at the time, becoming informed about it. Random sources sparked something in me that made me wonder, through the long line of experiences in my life, if I might not also have that syndrome undiagnosed. Turns out many adults find out later in life that they have actually been living (sometimes unsuccessfully) through the unusual aspects of the syndrome. I hadn't been diagnosed at the time I started writing; I merely thought it would make an interesting character - and it did. 

And speaking of Father's Day (which it is as I post this), we have THE BOOK OF DAD (June 2024) which was written as a sequel to the original trilogy. I had more ideas so I wrote another book. In it, I saw a twist on Orwell's "1984" but only inasmuch as the new capital was a repressive place where thought and history were strictly controlled. I let fly all my paranoia and neuroticism in the character of Frank (Isla's last child). I explored my own beliefs about the role of a man in society, as a provider, as a protector, and how society (government) sought to replace those roles, leaving a man with nothing to stand for, nothing to do but manual labor. He rages at his society - as we rage against ours today. But it was therapeutic for me, letting it out of my system, so to speak.

As the series continued through the family lineage, that body of traits is passed along to a greater or lesser degree, right up to Book 6: THE GRANDSONS (coming July 1, 2025). We don't know if the syndrome affects the main character there, if he suspects it or even knows about the possibility. If you know from reading the other books in the series, seeing it unfold in other characters, or you know from your own research, then you may well see it in his actions, but it is not specifically suggested. They say to write what you know, but sometimes you write what you know without knowing you know it. You know?


So I cheat. But at least it's my own life I draw from. There's a lot to draw from, although it's never been my intention to simply write a memoir. I did try that a couple of times. It got boring fast. My advice for new writers, however, would be to try to write your own life. See what is true and see what isn't but may sound true enough to be included. Then you can fictionalize it. A good exercise.

Now, with the FLU SEASON Saga coming to an end (or so they say), I can look back on multiple generations across the six books and see quite clearly the themes, the tropes, the messages I wanted to offer. I think of some words: redemption (in nearly every book I've written), reconciliation (making things right again, especially with other family members), and always: continuity. Maybe too often in these six books a character will remark on those who came before and those who will follow after, and feel a sense of relief at that. Maybe the character thinking it simply feels relief that he/she doesn't need to keep carrying on, that the next generation will take over, will carry the family forward another few decades then pass it off to yet another new generation.

How to make sense of it all? An old MFA professor once told us: "If you want to send a message, put it in a letter, not a story." And yet, where better than a story to offer something valuable? The trick is to let it slip in like a letter under the door, unobtrusive, almost an afterthought yet full of wisdom of a sort when it finally becomes clear to us. 

THE GRANDSONS launches July 1, 2025. I'll be blogging on it between now and then.

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(C) Copyright 2010-2025 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

I am Thankful for a Good Dressing Recipe

'Tis time to tickle the titillating turkey! 

Many of us this week will believe we have little to be thankful for. Things have not gone our way in more than a few ways. That's life, and I'm thankful for life. Others will possibly worry about the truth of the story of the first Thanksgiving. Go with the overall idea, I say, and do not focus on the details. Some of us will simply sit down and lustily dine until their belts burst. Whichever category you fall into, be sure to pick yourself up and find something, anything, for which you are thankful this week. Be thankful I've written this blog, for example. That's the real message of the holiday. (Tip: invite a political opponent to dinner, then only discuss bunnies.)

For those who may be curious or forgetful, I recommend this source of information about Thanksgiving because practically all of it is wrong, or considered wrong to someone somewhere. Or the official source, Plymouth Plantation, if you care to surround yourself with facts and speculations. They may yet be debated, if you have time after dinner and between the games. (Tip: discuss bunnies instead.)

I choose to boil it all down from whatever origins are true and run with the general idea of being thankful for what I have and being humble about what good things I may be thankful for in the coming year. You are welcome to do likewise. 

Nevertheless, holiday traditions die hard (though the turkeys are fairly easy). From time immemorial, I and all my relations would gather at the grandparents' house bearing much food and together have a grand feast. I recall dinners with a giant turkey at one end of the long table and a giant ham at the other end, and a hundred side dishes and a thousand desserts stacked everywhere. I was a little boy with big eyes; later, I was a starving teenager with a bottomless stomach. I do not recall having much leftovers.

Now, however, I can barely finish a turkey sandwich with a side of dressing. Then my cousins grew up (and I suppose I did, too) and we all had our own families. By then, the grandparents had passed on and Thanksgiving dinners became separate and self-contained. At some point in my own household, it became pointless to go to the trouble of it, even at the risk of having no leftovers. Deli turkey was good enough for a few sandwiches. 

No matter what happens this year, indulge in excessive moderation and may your moderation be indulgent. See you on the other side!

Stephen's Stuffing (or "dressing" to some folks)

Ingredients: a loaf of really cheap bread, a stick of real butter, one medium-length summer sausage, a bag of dried apricots, a bunch of celery, a little jar of sage, a bottle of orange juice, salt & pepper to your taste. (You could substitute cooked/dried cranberries for the apricots, if you wish; in that case, skip the OJ and use cranberry juice.)

Spread the butter over most of the slices of bread. (Tip: kids love to help with this part!) After buttering, tear up the bread into little pieces and put the pieces into a large bowl.

Cut up the sausage; slice then dice. (For a variation, we also used oysters instead of the sausage; works better with cranberries than apricots.) Put the diced sausage in the large bowl that has all the bread pieces. Cut the apricots and celery into little pieces, too, and put those pieces into the large bowl, as well. Shake in a good amount of sage, salt, and pepper. Mix up everything in the large bowl until your arms are tired.

Take the mixture from the bowl and put it into a small pan, something like 8x8 inches will do--or 9x9, 10x10, 12x12, whatever fits the size of your appetite. (I do not recommend stuffing the turkey itself because it is rather gross when you think about it and you don't know for sure what is still inside the turkey.) Then sprinkle some sage on top. Pour some orange juice into the pan; not a lot, but get everything wet. The OJ will make it slightly tart; you can skip the OJ if you want to and it will still be good.

Put the pan with the stuffing/dressing in it into the oven and bake until it starts to smell good, perhaps 30 to 40 minutes at 350*F. I'm going on memory now, so be careful. Putting foil over the top may help it along. It seems to me that we always put it in along with the foil-wrapped potatoes or yams for the same time and temperature, so try that.

Or, you could layer each ingredient in the pan: bread pieces first, then the pieces of sausage, celery, apricot, sage, and repeat. Kids who insist on helping can be put to good use in this procedure. Then, pour the orange juice over the top, let it soak down into the mixture, then bake. 

NOTE: I am not, nor have I ever been, a cook, chef, or baker. However, this recipe is a hybrid of recipes I assisted with in my youth, standing alongside one or the other grandmother, so it checks out. You will not get sick from eating it. Enjoy!

And thanks to all of you for your indulgence, your patience, and your constant attention to whatever the heck I post here, lo these many months!

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(C) Copyright 2010-2016 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

How to Stuff a Wild Turkey!

'Tis time to tickle the titillating turkey! 

Soon many will be slouching and slumping and snoring or snorting, content in the afterglow of their gluttonous indulgences and warm family camaraderie the put off for almost 365 days each year. 

That is our holiday tradition in the north of America, no matter how the origins and historical developments and political corrections have affected it. I, for one, do not indulge much on these sordid days called holidays; however, I always enjoy a day off from the usual.

I recommend this source of information about Thanksgiving because practically all of it is wrong, or considered wrong to someone somewhere. Or the official source, Plymouth Plantation, if you care to surround yourself with facts and speculations. They may yet be debated, if you have time after dinner and between the games. 

I choose to boil it all down from whatever origins are true and run with the general idea of being thankful for what I have and be humble about what good things I may be thankful for in the coming year. You are welcome to believe likewise.

(A bit of personal connection: I visited the Plymouth site in Massachusetts as a child, gazed down upon the 1621-stamped big rock called Plymouth, yet did not travel there in a Plymouth automobile. The irony!)

Nevertheless, holiday traditions die hard (though the turkeys are fairly easy). From time immemorial I and all my relations would gather at the grandparents' house with much food in hand and have a grand feast. I recall dinners with a giant turkey at one end of the long table and a giant ham at the other end, and a hundred side dishes and a thousand desserts stacked everywhere. I was a little boy with big eyes; later, I was a starving teenager with a bottomless stomach. I do not recall having much leftovers.

Now, however, I can barely finish a turkey sandwich and a side of baked sweet potato. Then my cousins grew up (and I suppose I did, too) and we all had our own families. By then, the grandparents had passed on and Thanksgiving dinners became separate and self-contained. At some point it became pointless to go to the trouble of it, even at the risk of having no leftovers.

I remember the best of the worst:

• 2003. Stuck in my doctoral program in the snowy hills of western Pennsylvania, it did not make sense to travel back to Kansas to visit family members for three days. Especially when I had final papers to prepare. So I just made burritos at home and kept typing my papers.

• 2010. Nobody was interested in going to the trouble of cooking a big dinner, so I went out to the grocery and bought a portion of smoked turkey and side dishes from the deli in the store. Ended up I ate it all myself.

• 1988 and 1989. I was living in Japan so it wasn't even a holiday. And turkey was an unfamiliar bird. I cannot recall exactly what I ate on those days yet it was likely something with teriyaki sauce on it.

• 2007. I had the turkey dinner, which was fine. On the drive back to Pennsylvania, however, I had a flat tire on a rainy Sunday night passing through the bad part of Columbus, Ohio, and had to stay over to get the tire fixed the next morning. I ate at the Waffle House next to the cheap motel.

• Another year in my youth. To gain the favor of a certain young lady, I agreed to participate a "starve-in" at a local church. Young people would empathize with the starving masses of the world by not eating Thanksgiving dinner. At all. To help us endure our hunger pain we played games and had other entertainments. When it was done, I went home and dove into the leftovers my parents had. I only went to that event to impress a girl. What a turkey I was!

• Not sure of the year but it was while I was living at my parents' house, so I must have been young. We had a goose at my request. Richer taste, oily meat, less meat for leftovers, a free portion of pate de fois gras (liver), and a bad case of indigestion which was later identified as ptomaine poisoning. Cook your bird thoroughly!

Or, as the early founding chefs had prominently placed on the menu, stick with venison and lobster! Or, in the alternative, try soybean pudding, sometimes called "tofu." Perhaps a turkey substitute could be created from various local vegetables and exotic fruits. Use your imagination. And don't forget the turkey chili . . . for the next two weeks!

No matter what happens this year, indulge in moderation and may your moderation be indulgent. See you on the other side!

Stephen's Stuffing 

[please, no weird puns, ok?]

Ingredients: a loaf of cheap bread, stick of real butter, medium summer sausage, bag of dried apricots, bunch of celery, little jar of sage, a bottle of orange juice, salt & pepper to your tastes. (You could substitute cooked/dried cranberries for the apricots, if you wish; in that case, skip the OJ and use cranberry juice.)

Spread butter over several slices of bread. Tear up the bread into little pieces, putting the pieces into a large bowl.

Cut up the sausage; slice then dice. Put that it the large bowl with the bread pieces. Cut the apricots and celery into little pieces and put the pieces into the large bowl. Shake in a good amount of sage, salt, and pepper. Mix up everything in the large bowl.

Take the mixture from the bowl and put it into a small pan, something like 8x8 inches will do--or 9x9, 10x10, 12x12, whatever fits the size of your appetite. (I do not recommend stuffing the turkey itself because it is rather gross when you think about it and you don't know for sure what is still inside the turkey.) Then sprinkle some sage on top. Pour some orange juice into the pan; not a lot, but get everything wet. The OJ will make it slightly tart; you can skip the OJ if you want to and it will still be good.

Put the pan with the stuffing in it into the oven and bake until it starts to smell good, perhaps 30 to 40 minutes at 350*F. I'm going on memory now, so be careful. Putting foil over the top may help it along. It seems to me that we always put it in with the foil-wrapped potatoes for the same time and temp, so try that.

Or, you could layer each ingredient in the pan: bread pieces first, then the pieces of sausage, celery, apricot, sage, and repeat. Pour the orange juice over the top, let it soak down into the mixture, then bake. 

NOTE: I am not, nor have I ever been, a cook, chef, or baker. However, this recipe is a hybrid of recipes I assisted with in my youth, standing alongside one or the other grandmother, so it checks out. You will not get sick from eating it. Enjoy!

This shall also serve as an example of a process essay for students who do not know just how easy it is to write one.

And thanks to all of you for your indulgence, your patience, and your constant attention to whatever the heck I post here, lo these many months!


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(C) Copyright 2010-2015 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.

Stuff yer own bird! (free recipe included)

'Tis the time to tickle the titillating turkey! 

This week many will be slouching and slumping and snoring or snorting, content in the afterglow of their gluttonous indulgences and warm family camaraderie the put off for almost 365 days each year. That is our holiday tradition in the north of America, no matter how the origins and historical developments and political corrections have affected it. I, for one, do not indulge much on these days called holidays; however, I always enjoy a day off from the usual.

I recommend this source of information about Thanksgiving because practically all of it is wrong, or considered wrong to someone somewhere. Or the official source, Plymouth Plantation, if you care to surround yourself with facts and speculations. They may yet be debated, if you have time after dinner and between the games.

A bit of personal connection: I visited the Plymouth site in Massachusetts as a child, gazed down upon the 1621-stamped big rock called Plymouth, yet did not travel there in a Plymouth automobile. The irony!

Nevertheless, holiday traditions die hard (though the turkeys are fairly easy). From time immemorial I and all my relations would gather at the grandparents' residence with food in hand and have a grand feast. I recall dinners with a giant turkey and a giant ham and a hundred side dishes and a thousand desserts. I recall not having much leftovers, either. Now, however, I can barely finish a turkey sandwich and a side of sweet potato. Then my cousins grew up (and I suppose I did, too) and we all had our own families. By then, the grandparents passed on and Thanksgiving dinners became separate and self-contained. At some point it became pointless to go to the trouble of it, even at the risk of having no leftovers.

I remember the best of the worst:

• 2003. Stuck in my doctoral program in the snowy hills of western Pennsylvania, it did not make sense to travel back to Kansas for three days. Especially so when I had final papers to prepare. So I just made burritos at home and kept typing my papers.

• 2010. Nobody was interested in going to the trouble of cooking a big dinner, so I went out to the grocery and bought a portion of smoked turkey and side dishes from the deli in the store. Ended up I ate it all myself.

• 1988 and 1989. I was living in Japan so it wasn't even a holiday. And turkey was an unfamiliar bird. I cannot recall exactly what I ate on those days yet it was likely something with teriyaki sauce on it.

• 2007. I had the turkey dinner, which was fine. On the drive back to Pennsylvania, however, I had a flat tire on a rainy Sunday night passing through the bad part of Columbus, Ohio, and had to stay over to get the tire fixed the next morning. I ate at the Waffle House, but no turkey.

• Another year in my youth I agreed to attend a "starve-in" at a local church. Young people would empathize with the starving masses of the world by not eating Thanksgiving dinner. At all. To help us endure our hunger we played games and had other entertainments. When it was done, I went home and dove into the leftovers my parents had. I only went to that event to impress a girl. What a turkey I was!

• Not sure of the year but it was while I was living at my parents' house, so I must have been young. We had a goose, at my request. Richer taste, oily meat, less meat for leftovers, a free portion of pate de fois gras (liver), and a bad case of indigestion which was later identified as ptomaine poisoning. Cook your bird thoroughly!

Or, as the early founding chefs had the menu, stick with venison and lobster! Or, in the alternative, try soybean pudding, sometimes called "tofu." Perhaps a turkey substitute could be created from various local vegetables and exotic fruits. Use your imagination. And don't forget the turkey chili . . . for the next two weeks!

No matter what happens this year, indulge in moderation and may your moderation be indulgent. See you on the other side!


Yes, this post is mostly borrowed from a previous year's celebratory posting. So, for this year, I've sweetened the deal with my own stuffing recipe!

Stephen's Stuffing 

[please, no weird puns, ok?]

Ingredients: a loaf of cheap bread, stick of real butter, medium summer sausage, bag of dried apricots, bunch of celery, little jar of sage, a bottle of orange juice, salt & pepper to your tastes. (You could substitute cooked/dried cranberries for the apricots, if you wish; in that case, skip the OJ and use cranberry juice.)

Spread butter over several slices of bread. Tear up the bread into little pieces, putting the pieces into a large bowl.

Cut up the sausage; slice then dice. Put that it the large bowl with the bread pieces. Cut the apricots and celery into little pieces and put the pieces into the large bowl. Shake in a good amount of sage, salt, and pepper. Mix up everything in the large bowl.

Take the mixture from the bowl and put it into a small pan, something like 8x8 inches will do--or 9x9, 10x10, 12x12, whatever fits the size of your appetite. (I do not recommend stuffing the turkey itself because it is rather gross when you think about it and you don't know for sure what is still inside the turkey.) Then sprinkle some sage on top. Pour some orange juice into the pan; not a lot, but get everything wet. The OJ will make it slightly tart; you can skip the OJ if you want to and it will still be good.

Put the pan with the stuffing in it into the oven and bake until it starts to smell good, perhaps 30 to 40 minutes at 350*F. I'm going on memory now, so be careful. Putting foil over the top may help it along. It seems to me that we always put it in with the foil-wrapped potatoes for the same time and temp, so try that.

Or, you could layer each ingredient in the pan: bread pieces first, then the pieces of sausage, celery, apricot, sage, and repeat. Pour the orange juice over the top, let it soak down into the mixture, then bake.

NOTE: I am not, nor have I ever been, a cook, chef, or baker. However, this recipe is a hybrid of recipes I assisted with in my youth, standing alongside one or the other grandmother, so it checks out. You will not get sick from eating it. Enjoy!


---------------------------------------------------------------------
(C) Copyright 2010-2013 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog. Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.