Toledo Talks -- Celery Root: Ugly but Beautiful

I remember watching Mama cook celery root when I was five or six. I remember being scared of the ugly thing she plopped down on the counter -- all rough and misshapen. I said "I'm not gonna eat that, Mama."

Hanover was there and he said, "Me and Swampy play catch with those things."

Mama said, as I imagine most Mamas do, "You'll eat what I put on the table and you'll like it."

Celery root

I ate it, of course. Mama had a way of making sure I ate my vegetables and it usually involved some fresh-baked pie or cobbler cooking in the oven, filling the room with a fragrant promise for later, after I'd managed to choke down this awful looking monster of a vegetable.

As I grew older, celery root became just part of the meal. Something we ate from time to time, especially when Mama was stressed or if I had an important test in school the next day. I came to enjoy its sweet, spicy flavor and would even sometimes ask Mama to make it.

Sliced celery root

Hanover even likes it, especially when it is cooked up with carrots, onion, beef, and tomato. It turns out he had always liked it and he was just giving Mama trouble. Sure, he and Swampy tossed around the root. Swampy had cultivated some he'd found. Late each autumn, he'd convince Hanover to help him dig it up and toss it in the cellar. Through the winter, Swampy would use the root himself and sell it to the chefs around town. It turns out, some consider it something of a delicacy. They call it celeriac.

Celery root with carrots and onions

I didn't fully appreciate celery root until much later, after Mama had passed on to a life without me. Of course she'd told me of its health benefits -- she knew even before the scientists did -- that it was good for the digestive system and helped calm stressed out teenagers. She knew it helped people to be mentally alert and she'd often take a raw chunk of it along on deliveries if she suspected the labor would be a long and difficult one. But like most kids, I never paid much mind.

Hanover's Favorite

Then one day, I remembered. Hanover was distraught about a case he was working on. He was particularly bothered about how the victims were murdered. I wanted to cook him up something special to help him relax. So I sautéed up some celery root, carrots, and onions. I put a nice small roast on top, along with sliced tomato and let them cook until they were rare -- just the way Hanover likes them. Then I melted a little Parmesan cheese on top. I served it to Hanover along with some red wine.
I'm not saying it worked magic. I've sworn never to work magic on Hanover. But it did help him relax. The next morning, Hanover woke early and reexamined the evidence. He saw something he'd never noticed before -- a pattern he'd never seen. I like to think the celery root had something to do with it.

Do you want to know more about celery root? Here are some links:
Health Benefits of Celery Root
What to Cook Now: Celery Root
What is Celeriac?

I'd like to give a special thanks to Paul's Farm Fresh Produce Market for the organic vegetables and grass-fed beef used in the photo shoot. It was all delicious.

Black Cat Appreciation Day

Toledo Cats

Some people are superstitious about black cats. I, for one, have never been a bit worried about one crossing my path. If I had been, I'd be in a world of trouble. Voodoo's favorite thing to do is wind around my legs. I can't tell you how many times I've stepped on her.

I think all cats are a little magical -- black cats are a bit more so. If you've ever seen one looking at something you can't see, that's because they have better eyes than you do. They can see the dark shadows of this world. If a black cat hisses, you'd better look twice. The cat is warning you that something's up. If a black cat purrs, you can be sure the world around you is at peace.

My cat Voodoo is black and is even more special than most. You see, Voodoo has been with me since 1905 or so. The first day I met Voodoo was also the first day I crossed over into the fairy realm. Voodoo was the runt of the litter -- last one born, tiny, and bedaggled. I was five years old and I watched her struggle to breath. I saw a flutter of bright blue wings. I thought it was a butterfly at first. It hovered over the stuggling kitten and I saw a whisp of something kitten-shaped follow it into Mama's lavender plants. I followed after it. Before I knew it, I was surrounded by colors -- more colors than I'd ever seen. People fluttered around me with bright-patterned wings. They were like giant butterflies, except with heads like people. I know now they were fairies -- or possibly goblins. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference.

John E. Miller - one of the authors with their
black kitten Smidgeon

The kitten jumped into my arms.  I held it to me.

"Give it back," the fairy with bright blue wings tossed her purple hair. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm Toledo Cats and I won't give it back. This kitten is mine. Mama told me I could keep any of them I wanted and I choose to keep this one."

"How'd you get here?"

"I followed you through the lavender. But you were small then." I remember scowling at the fairy, trying to puzzle out the size change. Then I shrugged it off. Just because I'd never seen a person shrink and grow doesn't mean they can't when you're five. I decided to warn the person. "You'd better stay small when you're in the lavender. Mama will be mad if you trample it. What's your name, anyway?"

"Hyacinth." She glanced nervously over her shoulder. "Listen, you'd better get back. I hear goblins coming this way. If Grumwald knows your here, no telling what he'll do."

I looked around and didn't see anything familiar. "How do I get back?"

"Follow me."

I held tight to the black kitten and followed Hyacinth through a valley of rainbows to a familiar patch of lavender, holding tight to the struggling black kitten. I made my way through the lavender carefully, breathing in its fragrance. The kitten grew calm in my arms and started to purr. As I stepped onto the walkway, I noticed the still black shape of the kitten lying apart from the mother cat and the other three kittens. I held nothing in my arms. I started to cry and ran to it. I picked it up and held it to my chest. Suddenly, I felt a soft purring. The little kitten was breathing again. I named her Voodoo because that's what some people called the magic Mama did and I was sure that only magic could have brought this kitten to life.

The Reunion - My Coming of Age

Toledo Cats

In March of 1921, just after the yellow daffodils had finished their happy waves and drooped, papery brown from low-bent stems, my life changed forever. The secret Mama divulged one night, as we walked home from a birth, gave me insight into who I am  and what I could never be. It also signalled the end of my carefree youth.

It was not easy for me to tell the story of that night and the events that followed, but the writers encouraged me, told me it was essential that the reader understand that part of the story before they could read about our other adventures. And so I told it.

I wanted to tell other stories first, -- like stories of the adventures Hanover and I had when we were young. But those stories will come later because we really didn't know why our lives could not be ended by mundane accidents. We didn't understand and didn't care that we did not have the same limitations of time and space as the other children. We certainly didn't know about "passage" and so the writers thought it would be best to skip ahead and tell the story of my passage to who I would become.

They have finished writing. The artist has finished the last drawing. I have read the story, cried my eyes out, and approved. So now the countdown begins. Soon, very soon, you will live my life.

A Glimpse of Agatha

Toledo Cats

I've been reading over "The Reunion" which should be finished soon and I had to chuckle when I read this scene between me, Nymeria, and Agatha.






Here's a sneak preview:

Toledo and Nymeria were startled by a loud splash and then the heavy thump of 600 pounds of flesh landing on the rock. They both watched quietly as the gator shifted slowly to a bipedal reptile, her back straightening painfully to an upright position. Toledo noticed Nymeria shrink back against the trunk of a tree. The creature hissed.

"I'm sorry, Agatha." Nymeria said whined. "I didn't know Sassafras Cats hadn't told her."

The reptile growled and groaned. The spines along her back shrank, the claws on her forearms transformed into hands, her long snout and jaw drew back painfully into a woman's grimace. "Excuse Nymeria," a gravelly voice said at last. "After all these years, you'd think her mouth would stop running." Agatha touched Nymeria with a scaly hand.

Agatha's an earthbound goddess and I guess she can be a little intimidating at times. Coincidentally, our artist has just completed her portrait -- of course she sat for the portait in her human form. What do you think? Intimidating, beautiful, or both?


Agatha



Meet Toledo Cats



Toledo Cats


I apologize for being so late introducing myself. It seems like everyone's having babies lately and like my mama, I am, first and foremost, a midwife. Of course, I have other responsibilities as well, like keeping Hanover out of trouble.  *Winks*

I suppose it's fitting that I'm the last to introduce myself, though. I was first-born of the four of us and I suppose the stories we tell in Dime Store Novel really began with the events leading up to my conception. You can read about those in Rips in the Weave and The Desert Rose and they explain a lot about the world I was born into.

I'm also very excited about the next book Ms. Reese and Mr. Miller will release, The Reunion. I suppose you could call it my coming of age story, although it's really much more than that. They've finished writing the first draft and I'm reading it now to make sure they have things right. If the baby business ever slows down, I'll finish reading it and then it will be your turn.