Poldark Redux

I was a college student when I was first introduced to Ross Poldark, as played by the wonderful Robin Ellis, and in the days long before DVR or even VHS tapes, I made sure I was in front of that television every Sunday night to watch Masterpiece Theatre's romantic saga set in Cornwall. When the first series ended, I plunged into the books by Winston Graham (all 12 of them!) and read them in order, following the loves and losses of Ross, Demelza and their children.

When I heard there was to be a new Poldark airing on Masterpiece, I was ambivalent--part of me was thrilled at the idea of visiting with those characters again, but another part of me wondered if anyone could live up to Robin Ellis and Angharad Rees as the main characters. I'm happy to report that I am enthralled with the new series. Its visuals are stunning, the score is lovely, and the acting is fine. And okay, Aidan Turner is mighty easy on the eyes:

Watching this series had made me miss the original though, and given me an even stronger hankering for a long overdue visit to Cornwall. . .

It's Mother's Day Everywhere. . .

Even at my front door, where some enterprising robin has decided to build her nest at the top of my (fake) forsythia wreath:

My niece Eva stood on tip-toe with her phone to snap this lovely pic. (That blue could only occur in nature. Or perhaps on a bag from Tiffany.)

Hoping that moms and mom-figures everywhere are having a perfect day today!

What I'm Reading

With Easter comes a much-needed break (both from day and writer jobs) and the luxury of time to read for pleasure. Right now I'm 3/4 of the way through The Death of Lucy Kyte, by Nicola Upson, the latest in her series featuring Golden Age mystery writer Josephine Tey as her sleuth.

In this entry, Josephine inherits a mysterious cottage from a godmother she never knew. But the place has a checkered past, figuring prominently in a 19th century murder. There's also a secret diary, distrustful villagers, and a "ghost" who may turn out to be a flesh-and-blood murderer. It's spookily atmospheric (I actually had trouble sleeping last night) and a traditional mystery in the very best sense. Savoring these last few pages!

NEXT UP:

Can't wait to dig into this one--it's a prequel to the Ian Rutledge series, in which we get to meet Rutledge before he has to cope with the crippling effects of World War I. It will be fun to have a glimpse of his world in those last peaceful days. (But if I know the Todds, there will be shadows looming. . .)

The Sunday Sauce Tradition

I have spent much of my day today shopping for and preparing my family's recipe for Sunday Sauce, more properly a meat ragu that simmers for several hours, filling the house with a smell so familiar I can conjure it from memory.

What some families (but not ours!) call "gravy" is a dish with as many variations as there are people with vowels on the ends of their names. But what's common to all of us who make it is continuing a tradition that began with our grandmothers and great-grandmothers. My version usually contains meatballs, some form of pork, and either beef or a specialty meat like sausage or brasciole.

When I was young, Sunday meant the unmistakable scents of onion and garlic cooking as the base of my mom's sauce. When my boys were little, a big batch of sauce was an economy: once those containers were filled, they provided at least a dozen dinners for our family of five. And despite how fussy young children can be, my kids never turned up their noses at a meatball.

I make Sunday sauce infrequently these days, but spring break is upon us, and I'll soon have three young men to feed. So I took out the big stock pot, mixed up the meatballs, chopped the onion and garlic, and set it all to simmering on this chilly, rainy Sunday. In another hour or so, the flavors will be blended and the meat will be tender. When the kids arrive, they'll take one sniff and know they're home.

That's Amore

I saw first saw Moonstruck  when it released 25 years ago and just adored it. While I am a sucker for romantic comedies of any type, what a joy it was to watch a film about Italians that did not involve guns, back room deals, or kisses of death planted on unsuspecting lips. (Unless you count Nicolas Cage catching Cher completely off-guard with that first smooch.)

I watched it again recently on Netflix, and to my utter and complete satisfaction, it still held up for me. I love that Cher's character, Loretta Castorini, is an older heroine. She's had one love in her life and approaches her engagement pragmatically instead of romantically. She's unprepared for the passion that Cage's character, Ronnie, inspires at their first meeting, but gets swept up in it anyway, throwing her usual caution right out Ronnie's bedroom window.

 Aside from the warm jolts of recognition this movie provides me--the family table, the dutiful Italian daughter, and the humor that informs every scene--I like what it has to say about love. In a departure from most rom-coms, which follow a storybook formula, this movie tells it like it is. In Ronnie's words:

"Love don't make things nice - it ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes things a mess. We aren't here to make things perfect. The snowflakes are perfect. The stars are perfect. Not us. Not us! We are here to ruin ourselves and to break our hearts and love the wrong people and die."

É vero, no?  Here's to getting moonstruck, at least once in life, in all its messy and imperfect glory.

Zen Moments: Good-bye to All That

As the last few days of summer slip away, here's my farewell to the beach:

Release Day: The Wedding Soup Murder

And I hope you'll join me in celebrating! (Don't forget that you can have a free taste of soup right here on the Rosie G site!)

Today there's a giveaway at Read Your Writes Book Reviews and later on a review at Charming Chelsey's. Check back for more details!

Get It While It's Hot!

The soup, that is! In just two days, the second book in the Italian Kitchen Mysteries, The Wedding Soup Murder, releases in stores and online.

Starting September 1, I'll be on a ten-day blog tour that includes interviews, guest posts, reviews, and lots of giveaways, so please join me!

Put Your Money Where Your Ice Is

My youngest son recently challenged me to dump a bucket of ice on my head to help spread awareness for ALS, a debilitating disease that famously claimed the life of Lou Gehrig. While I have no intention of inducing an ice headache, I would like to make a public promise to make a donation to the ALS Association in the name of a former mentor and colleague, John Goodson.

I was a first-year teacher when I met John, a guidance counselor who was already struggling with the late stages of the disease. Wheelchair bound, he remained a productive member of our high school community, even after he could no longer hold a pencil. He had a brilliant mind with a lively, dry wit, and he helped me navigate a challenging year for a twenty-two year-old fresh out of college. And while the phrase has become a cliche, John truly was a role model for his colleagues and students. I think of him often, but especially as this campaign takes the internet by storm.

A long overdue thank you, John, but this bucket's for you.

 photo credit: lissame via photopin cc

My Favorite Places "Down the Shore": the Main Avenue Galleria

Now that summer is well underway, I'd like to introduce a new feature here at the Rosie G blog: descriptions of my favorite Jersey Shore locales. The first one is a recent discovery, the Main Avenue Galleria in Ocean Grove, NJ:

 This charming little storefront gallery is an artists' collective that sells wonderful paintings, photographs, mosaics, jewelry, and a host of other beautiful, one-of-a-kind pieces. I visited the store in March when I was in town for a book signing and got chatting with one of the artists and employees, Christine Rotolo. After admiring her landscapes and beachscapes, I gave her a copy of my book and she presented me with a postcard of one of her paintings:

 Wouldn't you love to have a seat in one of those chairs? Christine is just one of the many artists in the collective. You can get a peek at some of the other wonderful work in the Galleria here. (And for those who want to channel their inner Van Gogh, the Galleria also offers art classes.)

The Main Avenue Galleria was a cozy little refuge on a cold spring night--the arts are alive and well here at the Jersey shore!

photo courtesy of Norma, Main Avenue Galleria

image courtesy of Christine Gattuso Rotolo