Focus on Food

FOCUS ON FOOD

Spectacular Speculaas

Cookies for St. Nicholas

Story and Photograph by Rose Shewey

Speculaas cookies are works of art with a wonderfully charming backstory. Not quite as popular as gingerbread — unjustly so, I might add — speculaas were originally made with hand-carved wooden molds that produce filigran shapes with extraordinary relief details. That’s how I make mine — but sit tight, there are other options for those of you without fancy mold contraptions.

The original cookies depicted the story of St. Nicholas, the bishop of Myra (modern day Turkey), who is said to have brought treats to children in December. St. Nicholas was known as the “Speculator” (overseer or observer), and legend has it that in the evenings he would peer (as in, speculate) through the windows of the poor to see who needed help. This may explain both the curious name and why the speculaas is a customary St. Nicholas Day sweet treat, especially in the Netherlands, where these cookies likely originated. And it’s probably why the most famous speculaas cookie these days depicts a windmill.

Known as speculaas in Dutch, spéculoos in French or spekulatius in German, you might encounter any of the three names while on the hunt for recipes or store-bought cookies. These sweet treats have as much tradition and lovely, wintery warm spices as gingerbread but are much easier to prepare (gingerbread dough is traditionally started two months ahead of time and left to rest) and, dare I say, more refined and delicious.

In place of the wooden molds, lots of folks use a carved or embossed rolling pin or cookie cutters. The simplest way of preparing these is, however, to roll out the dough and slice it into smaller rectangles, which can be decorated with a piece or two of sliced almonds. The recipe I use is adapted from the German Baker’s Guild, which represents a basic version with room for growth — adjust the amount of spices used or add some of your own. To make butter speculaas, increase the amount of butter by 100 grams and add an extra egg. 

Speculaas Cookies

(Makes about 40 pieces)

150 grams butter, room temperature

1 egg

110 grams brown sugar

Zest of 1 lemon

60 grams almond flour

2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground cloves

1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom

300 grams wheat flour

Directions

Cream the butter, egg and sugar with an electric mixer for at least 8-10 minutes until light and fluffy. Stir in the lemon zest, spices and ground almond, then add flour into the mixture. Knead all the ingredients together by hand to form a firm dough. Shape the dough into two balls, wrap them in cling film, and chill for about 1 hour. Remove one portion of dough from the refrigerator. If using a speculaas mold, tear off small sections of the dough and press them into the lightly floured molds. Use a knife or a piece of thread to cut excess dough from the mold to create a nice, flat cookie backside and smooth edges, then gently tap the mold on your working surface until the cookies pop out. Transfer to a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. If using cookie cutters, roll out the dough thinly (about 4 millimeters) between two sheets of parchment paper. Dust lightly with flour. Cut out shapes and set them on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. If using a speculaas (or embossed) rolling pin, gently but firmly roll over the rolled out dough to cut out shapes. Carefully separate the speculaas shapes using a butter or pastry knife and transfer them to a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Knead the leftover dough together again and roll it out anew. Chill cookies for about 2 hours before baking. Heat the oven to 350F and bake for about 8-10 minutes, but keep a watchful eye on the cookies, they burn quickly. The cookies will seem soft right after baking but will harden once they cool. Repeat with the remaining dough.

The Naturalist

THE NATURALIST

A Few Magical Moments

Sighting a hawk as white as snow

Story and Photographs by Todd Pusser

Several years ago, on a crisp December morning, I found myself traveling down the dusty backroads of Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge under a brilliant blue sky. I had a few hours to kill before a planned meeting at the nearby Outer Banks History Center and thought a drive through the refuge might yield a sighting of a black bear or a river otter — and if I was really lucky, perhaps an endangered red wolf.

About a mile into my drive, I noticed a large white bird lift off the ground from the middle of a freshly plowed field and fly toward some tall pine trees several hundred yards out in front of my car. Based on its size and stiff-winged flight, I could tell it was some sort of bird of prey, but with its unusual white coloration, I could not readily make out the species. Perhaps, I thought, it was a snowy owl, a spectacular resident of Arctic climes, that occasionally ventures south to North Carolina during winter months. 

As I pulled my car up to the pine trees, I was stunned to see something much rarer than a snowy owl. Off to the side of the dirt road, sitting on a branch of a tall loblolly, was a white red-tailed hawk. Its luminous feathers contrasted sharply with the golden needles of the pine and the intense Carolina blue sky. In eastern North America, adult red-tailed hawks typically possess brown backs and white bellies and chests lined by dark streaks. Their tail is brick red, hence the name. The hawk in the pine was anything but typical. It was stunning. In the bright morning light, the pale hawk gave off a surreal, almost otherworldly glow.

Red-tailed hawks are notoriously skittish, and I figured the bird would fly away when I lowered my car window and pointed a large telephoto lens at it. To my surprise, the hawk remained focused on the field from whence it flew and paid me little attention. As I fumbled with my camera settings, adjusting the aperture and shutter speed, the hawk glanced occasionally in my direction. Still, the bird held its position and continued to stare out into the field. 

Unusually white animals have captured human imagination for time immemorial and are frequently viewed as omens of good fortune. Among certain Native American cultures, a white buffalo represents hope and harmony among all people and are considered the most sacred of animals. In Thailand, some believe that white elephants contain the souls of people who have crossed over into the spirit world. In Celtic and English folklore, white deer are frequently endowed with supernatural powers and magical abilities. Exceptionally white animals have even permeated popular culture — none more so than Captain Ahab’s great nemesis, the white sperm whale Moby Dick.

Studying the details of the pale red-tailed hawk more closely through my telephoto lens, I realized the bird was not completely white. Numerous light brown feathers were scattered about its wings and head. Zooming in on the hawk’s eye on the back of my camera’s LCD, I noticed its black pupil, a feature that told me that the bird was not an albino. True albino birds lack any pigment in their feathers and have pink eyes. Genetic mutations that cause abnormally white feathers in birds are numerous and are not well understood. Without a thorough analysis of its blood, the condition causing the unusual white coloration of the hawk would remain unknown.

After nearly 15 minutes of me taking photos, something finally caught the hawk’s attentive gaze. With a crouch and a quick spread of its wings, the raptor launched off the pine and flew low over the ground to the far side of the field. Like some ghostly apparition, the white red-tail disappeared over the distant trees and was gone.

All I have to prove this magical encounter actually happened are a few pixels stored on a hard drive and the pale image etched permanently into my memory bank. To this day, the hawk remains one of the most spectacular and beautiful birds I have ever encountered.

Southwords

SOUTHWORDS

Santa’s Coming, Regardless

By Robert Inman

It starts every year, without fail, the day after Thanksgiving. Grownups begin to threaten young people over Santa Claus. The air is full of dire predictions about what might happen Christmas Eve if children aren’t something close to saintly. It is the bludgeon used to produce clean plates at mealtime, tidy rooms, impeccable manners and timely homework.

Of course, adults have been putting the evil eye on children’s behavior since time immemorial. My grandmother, for example, had a special word of terror for young folks who trampled her flowers, tracked mud on her rug, or swung too high in her porch swing. “Nasty stinkin’ young’uns,” she’d bark, “I’m gonna pinch your heads off.” Mama Cooper was a sweet and kind person who never would have pinched the head off a radish, much less a child, but she could strike fear into her grandchildren. We were careful around her flowers, her rug and her porch swing.

So the grownup weapon of fear is a time-honored tradition. But the direst predictions of ruin and misfortune, it seems, are always saved for the Christmas season. “If you don’t clean up your plate, Santa Claus won’t come.” “Act ugly one more time, buster, and you’ll find a bag of switches under the tree for you on Christmas morning.” Well, baloney.

I came to my senses about the Santa Claus business when I met Jake Tibbetts, a crotchety old newspaper editor who appeared in my imagination one day and then took over the pages of my first novel, Home Fires Burning. Jake had a built-in bull-hockey detector, and he could spot nonsense a mile away. Jake’s grandson Lonnie lived with Jake and his wife, Pastine, and when Christmas rolled around, Mama Pastine put the pox on Lonnie about Santa’s upcoming visit.

At the breakfast table one morning, Lonnie let a mild oath slip from his 10-year-old lips. Mama Pastine pounced. “Santa Claus has no truck with blasphemers,” she said.

“Hogwash,” Daddy Jake snorted. “Santa Claus makes no moral judgments. His sole responsibility is to make young folks happy. Even bad ones. Even TERRIBLE ones.”

“Then why,” Lonnie asked, “does he bring switches to some kids?”

Jake replied, “This business about switches is pure folklore. Did you ever know anybody who really got switches for Christmas? Even one?”

Lonnie couldn’t think of a single one.

“Right,” said Daddy Jake. “I have been on this Earth for 64 years, and I have encountered some of the meanest, vilest, smelliest, most undeserving creatures the Good Lord ever allowed to creep and crawl. And not one of them ever got switches for Christmas. Lots of ’em were told they’d get switches. Lots of ’em laid in their beds trembling through Christmas Eve, just knowing they’d find a stocking full of hickory branches come morning. But you know what they found? Goodies. Even the worst of ’em got some kind of goodies. And for one small instant, every child who lives and breathes is happy and good, even if he is as mean as a snake every other instant. That’s what Santa Claus is for, anyhow.”

Well, Daddy Jake said it better than I ever could. I believe with all my heart that he is right, just as I have always believed fervently in Santa Claus and still do.

I believed in Santa Claus even through the Great Fort Bragg Misbehavior of 1953. My father was stationed at Fort Bragg with the Army, and I was in the fourth grade at the post elementary school. The day before school let out for the Christmas holidays, Santa Claus landed on the playground in an Army helicopter. It was, to me and my classmates, something akin to the Second Coming. When we went out to welcome Santa, the teachers stationed the first- through fourth-graders on one side of the playground and the fifth- and sixth-graders on the other. When Santa’s chopper landed, I learned why. We little kids were yelling our heads off for Santa to leave us some goodies under the tree a few nights hence. Across the way, the fifth- and sixth-graders were yelling, “Fake! Fake!”

Some of my classmates were crestfallen. It never fazed me. I figured those big kids were wrong then, and still do. Santa Claus is for real. Just look in a kid’s eyes and you’ll see him.

(By the way, I’m sure the fifth- and sixth-graders didn’t get switches for Christmas. Maybe they should have, but they didn’t.)

Grownups are wrong, too, when they threaten kids with the loss of Santa. Daddy Jake was right. We adult types need to grant the kids their unfettered moment of magic. If they act up, threaten to pinch their heads off. But leave Santa out of it. 

Bookshelf

BOOKSHELF

December Books

FICTION

Burner: And Other Stories, by Katrina Denza

Denza writes about women in conflict: attempting to woo a man via a burner phone; discovering the best friendships are those grounded in reality; subscribing to a hologram service to speak to a deceased husband; reclaiming power only to realize power is an illusion; discovering there is no safe haven; confronting the frustrations of being an artist; and reckoning with mistakes made as a mother. Wrestling with connections and disconnections, highs and lows, and the vagaries of modernity, Burner and Other Stories touches how we live.

NONFICTION

Van Gogh: The Pop Up Book

See the vibrant artistry of Vincent van Gogh burst into life through dazzling three-dimensional interpretations of five of his most celebrated works. This imaginative book transforms renowned masterpieces into interactive pop-up creations, offering a new and tactile appreciation of one of history’s most visionary artists. Each scene draws readers into Van Gogh’s universe, revealing the swirling night sky of The Starry Night in dramatic relief; the serene intimacy of The Bedroom; and the vibrant colors of Wheatfield with Cypresses. The street scene of Café Terrace at Night and the delicate beauty of Almond Blossom emerge in meticulous detail, emphasizing the dynamic movement and profound emotion of his technique. These exquisite pop-ups amplify the expressive contours and vibrant hues that define his genius, bringing Van Gogh’s unparalleled vision to life in an unforgettable way.

Wings: The Story of a Band on the Run, by Paul McCartney

Drawn from over 500,000 words of interviews with McCartney, family, band members and other key participants, Wings recounts — now with a half-century’s perspective — the musical odyssey taken by a man searching for his identity in the aftermath of The Beatles’ breakup. Soon joined by his wife — American photographer Linda McCartney — on keyboard and vocals, drummer Denny Seiwell, and guitarist Denny Laine, McCartney sowed the seeds for a new band that would later provide the soundtrack of the decade. The narrative begins when a 27-year-old superstar fled with his new wife to a remote sheep farm in Scotland amid a sea of legal and personal rows. The setting gave McCartney time to create, and it was there where this new band emerged. Wings follows the group as they play unannounced shows at university halls, tour in a sheared-off double-decker bus with their children, survive a robbery on the streets of Nigeria, and eventually perform blockbuster stadium shows on their world tour, all while producing some of the most enduring music of the time. Introduced with a personal, heartfelt foreword by McCartney, the volume contains 150 black and white and color photographs, many previously unseen, as well as timelines, a gigography and a full discography.

Black, White, Colored: The Hidden Story of an Insurrection, a Family, a Southern Town, and Identity in America, by Lauretta Malloy Noble, LeeAnét Noble

In the late 19th century, Laurinburg, North Carolina, was a beacon of racial calm — a place where Blacks and whites could live and work together. Black families like the Malloys became landlords, business owners and doctors, thriving together and changing the economic landscape. But that progress was shattered on the eve of Election Day, 1898, when supremacist groups launched a bloody attack, forcing Laurinburg’s Black citizens to flee. With meticulous research drawn from sources including The New York Age and census records, the mother and daughter authors — descendants of the town’s early Black leaders — uncover the trailblazing achievements of their ancestors, piecing together proof of Black resilience in a region shaped by profound adversity whose contributions extended beyond Laurinburg to institutions including Howard University and Meharry Medical College.

CHILDREN’S BOOKS

The Millicent Quibb School of Etiquette for Young Ladies of Mad Science: Secrets of the Purple Pearl, by Kate McKinnon

From the Saturday Night Live legend comes this highly anticipated second about mad science, three peculiar sisters, and the mysterious Millicent Quibb! The Porch Sisters are in trouble. It’s summertime in Antiquarium, and everyone has flocked to the majestic lakeside Purple Pearl Hotel, including the Krenetics Research Association, a nefarious group of mad scientists. They haven’t given up on resurrecting their fearsome leader, Talon Sharktūth, and now they’re hot on the trail of the legendary Purple Pearl, a source of power that is rumored to be lost at the bottom of Lake Kagloopy. But Gertrude, Eugenia and Dee-Dee are on to them and their mentor, Millicent Quibb, has a plan! Is it a good plan? Hard to say! But it does involve finding a mysterious creature called a Shrimpmaid and retrieving the pearl before the KRA gets its evil hands on it! (Ages 8 – 12.)

The Apprenticeship of Andrew Weyth: Painting a Family Legacy, by Gene Barretta

Before Andrew Wyeth found his creative voice, he was a boy growing up in an artistic family, spending his time in rural Pennsylvania and Maine. Andy, as he was called by his family, was trained by his father, renowned artist N.C. Wyeth, but they didn’t always see eye to eye. Pa wanted his son to fill his compositions with exciting characters and places. But to Andy, the most exciting stories to paint were the ones he lived every day, that featured the familiar people and places he loved most. (Ages 5 – 9.)

Hometown

HOMETOWN

Christmas in a Nutshell

The spirit lingers in little things

By Bill Fields

Most of the presents I received long ago, on those Christmas mornings of excitement and eggnog which seemed as if they would never arrive, are long gone. The Rock ’Em, Sock ’Em Robots, those red and blue plastic heavyweights, haven’t gone 12 rounds in years. No rough representations of cats or dogs have appeared in squiggly lines on the Etch A Sketch in forever. The future-telling of a Magic 8-Ball is far, far in the past.

But my “Christmas Nutshell Library” still sits on a shelf, a symbol of the season to be checked out each December, more than 60 years since it appeared under our tree and I marked it as mine, the black letters forming my name on the slipcase now very faint or claimed by time.

Growing up, I loved little things: a 10-cent water pistol that could be hidden in a palm; pocket-sized checkers set; “Tot 50” Swingline stapler about the size of my index finger; Matchbox cars that could race on a windowsill.

Given that the volumes in the holiday collection each measured just 2 7/8 x 3 7/16 inches, they were right up my alley. Talk about truth in advertising — the $2.95 set, published by Harper & Row in 1963, was promoted as “four small books for small people.” The Lilliputian release was Harper & Row’s follow-up to the 1962 publication of the popular “Nutshell Library” by noted children’s author and illustrator Maurice Sendak. The Christmas-themed encore was entrusted to another giant of the genre, Hilary Knight.

Knight, whose father, Clayton, and mother, Katherine, were talented illustrators and immersed him in art when he was a child, was well known by the early 1960s for having illustrated author Kay Thompson’s 1955 Eloise: A Book for Precocious Grownups, about a mischievous 6-year-old girl who lives with her nanny, dog and turtle on “the tippy-top floor” of the Plaza Hotel in New York City. The character, based on an imaginary friend Thompson had as a child, was further developed in three Eloise book sequels by Thompson and Knight in the late 1950s: Eloise in Paris, Eloise at Christmastime and Eloise in Moscow.

For the “Christmas Nutshell Library” Knight drew the artwork for Clement Moore’s classic The Night Before Christmas. He wrote and illustrated the other three books: A Firefly in a Fir Tree, a parody of “The Twelve Days of Christmas”; Angels & Berries & Candy Canes, an alphabet book; and A Christmas Stocking Story, accurately described in one 1963 review as “a merry mix-up yarn.”

I enjoyed the tiny books, again and again, across numerous childhood Christmases. The missing dust jackets are a casualty of how often I read them each holiday season. One particularly loosened binding, though, reveals my favorite.

A Christmas Stocking Story is the charming, rhyming tale of eight creatures — Stork, Hippo, Lion, Fish, Elephant, Snake, Fox and Bug — to whom Santa Claus delivers ill-suited gifts to their stockings. “Fish fell in a solemn hush,” Knight wrote, “finding hers held comb and brush.”

But the recipients go from glum to giddy when they “found each had what the next preferred” and remedy the situation by swapping presents. Among the happy do-overs:

“Stork, who suffered from sore throats, wore his sleeve with winter coats.”

“Hippo, hiding giggling fits, shyly showed her lacy mitts.”

“Snake, who yearned for gaudy things, slipped into her diamond rings.”

Knight’s skilled hand brought the critters’ emotions — dejection at first, followed by delight — to vivid life. His 1964 Where’s Wallace? is the tale of an orangutan who repeatedly flees the zoo and has escapades around the city. Young readers were challenged to find the ape in Knight’s detailed panoramic illustrations nearly a quarter-century before kids began searching for a human character in Where’s Waldo?

Over a career that extended into his 90s, Knight has illustrated more than 50 books, created artwork for magazine and record album covers, advertisements, greeting cards and Broadway shows.

“I got a lot of work to do,” Knight told Forbes.com when he was 90. “I have to take care of myself because I have to live at least another 10 years.”

The man who provided children plenty of pleasure celebrated his 99th birthday last month.

Tea Leaf Astrologer

TEA LEAF ASTROLOGER

Sagittarius

(November 22 – December 21)

There’s a fine — and in your case, blurred — line between passionate and possessive. When Venus struts into Scorpio on Nov. 6 (where she’ll glamp out until month’s end), that line is primed to become a short leash if left unchecked — and nobody wants to be on the other end of that. A word of advice: Don’t smother the fire. Tempted as you may be to cling fast and tight, a little space will keep the coals glowing red hot.

Tea leaf “fortunes” for the rest of you:

Capricorn (December 22 – January 19)

Go easy on the eggnog. 

Aquarius (January 20 – February 18)

Keep a knuckle of ginger on standby. 

Pisces (February 19 – March 20)

Add a splash of maple syrup. 

Aries (March 21 – April 19) 

Fold in a little extra sweetness.

Taurus (April 20 – May 20)

Reshuffle the deck. 

Gemini (May 21 – June 20)

Dress for an adventure. 

Cancer (June 21 – July 22)

Make way for true romance.

Leo (July 23 – August 22)

Use your mulligan.

Virgo (August 23 – September 22)  

Stretch those hip flexors. 

Libra (September 23 – October 22)

Try not to overextend yourself. 

Scorpio (October 23 – November 21)

Serve yourself the first slice. 

Pleasures of Life

PLEASURES OF LIFE

Life in Mugs

My cup overfloweth . . . with coffee

By Emilee Phillips

“Oh look, another Keurig,” I said as I unwrapped the gift, unsure if I was being punked. Four coffee makers — in four different colors — sat on the floor in front of me in the jumble of Christmas debris. The situation was so ridiculous, it only took half a beat for me to burst into laughter. Apparently no one in the family communicated that year when shopping for my present. But I was grateful that everyone wanted to make sure I had my caffeine fix. That was the year I’d gone off to college and you could say I was a tad — OK, a lot — coffee obsessed.

Having previously worked at a coffee shop, you couldn’t blame me. I had one leg up on addiction. But higher education made it worse. I relied on it so much to get me through the long days — between morning workouts, the A/C always blasting a smidgen too much and Mr. Dean’s sleep-inducing class —  it hardly gave me the jitters anymore. My roommate and I used our Keurig so much that it didn’t survive first semester.

Friends and family might describe me now as a coffee snob, which I would argue is not entirely true. I can recognize a good cuppa from an over-roasted, bitter or stale one, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t drink it to endure the “brilliant” podcast my sister insists is life-changing.

If coffee is an acquired taste, I’ve acquired it. Much like being a wine sommelier, the more you drink the more you understand what the terms that could describe fabrics — “velvety,” “light,” and “floral” — mean in the coffee context.

Admittedly, since my college days I have upgraded my brew methods. I grind the beans fresh for each pot. It has become a morning ritual of sorts, one that humors me. I’m as guilty as the next guy of not being able — or, rather, refusing — to function without their morning cup of joe. Hey, we’re creatures of habit.

There are people who enjoy the sentiment of coffee more than the concoction itself. There’s something exciting about wrapping your hands around a steaming cup as if you’re lounging in a ski chalet in Aspen or, for those who prefer iced drinks, making your way through a castle of whipped cream to get a sugar fix before diving into the caffeine pool at the bottom.

These days the real appeal to me, other than getting a much needed jolt in the morning, is that “going for coffee” can be an outing in itself. The coffee shop can serve as a “third place” — a pleasing space between home and work where the aroma of a fresh brew and the hum of conversation bring people together. Whether it’s catching up with an old friend, powering through online tasks or enjoying a good book, there’s something motivating about stepping out of the house and into a welcoming atmosphere.

Some of my best ideas happen in coffee shops. I enjoy hearing the sounds of the grinder, the steam of the espresso machine and the soft mingling around me. After a while you begin to notice things like “plaid shirt guy isn’t here today,” or “the lady who always asks for her drink to be kid’s temperature got a tea today,” or “chai latte girl must have finally finished that paper.”

In college, that little coffeemaker became my personal barista, churning out cups during all-nighters and early morning cram sessions. I’d sit at my desk with my laptop, a mug in hand and pretend I was anywhere but a cramped, cluttered dorm room.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I kept the black Keurig for my college dorm. The other three went back for spending money.

Bookshelf

BOOKSHELF

November Books

FICTION

Party Stories, by Ella Carr

Momentous parties have long provided dramatic scenes in fiction, from Natasha’s first ball in War and Peace to Darcy snubbing Lizzy in Pride and Prejudice to J. Edgar Hoover and Truman Capote rubbing shoulders in Don DeLillo’s “The Black-and-White Ball.” Revelry can be revealing of character, as in Gatsby’s extravagant bash in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby and the decadent partying of the jaded expats in Ernest Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises. More decorous affairs can also reveal profound depths, as in Katherine Mansfield’s “The Garden Party” and the parties at the center of those two modernist masterpieces, Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway and James Joyce’s “The Dead.” There is room on this dance floor for humor, as well, in Evelyn Waugh’s “Bella Fleace Gave a Party,” Dorothy Parker’s “Arrangement in Black & White,” and Saki’s “The Boar-Pig.” All sorts of literary greats mingle in this festive gathering, a perfectly entertaining gift for readers and partygoers alike.

Green Forest, Red Earth, Blue Sea, by Jim Gulledge

A small pocket watch bears witness to the loves and losses of three North Carolina families — the Kellers, Elliotts and McClures. As the heirloom passes down over a hundred years, questions arise. Can strength and goodness be gifted to one’s heirs? What about corruption and evil? Do the lives of ancestors have any bearing on those who come after them? From Reconstruction to the modern age, this sweeping family saga speaks to what binds families together and tears them apart. Powers of darkness and light fight for the minds and hearts of every individual. In a land of beauty populated by Scots Irish pioneers, cotton farmers, Native Americans, fishermen, and pirates, Green Forest, Red Earth, Blue Sea by local author Jim Gulledge is a chronicle of human failings and the power of redemption.

NONFICTION

Rules for Living to 100, by Dick Van Dyke

Dick Van Dyke danced his way into our hearts with iconic roles in Mary Poppins, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and as the eponymous star of The Dick Van Dyke Show. Now, as he’s about to turn 100 years old, Van Dyke is still approaching life with the twinkle in his eye that we’ve come to know and love. Through pivotal stories of his childhood, moments on film sets, his expansive family, and finding love late in life, Van Dyke reflects on the joyful times and the challenges that shaped him. His indefatigable spirit and positive attitude will surely inspire readers to count the blessings in their own lives, persevere through the hard times, and appreciate the beauty and complexity of being human.

Eleanor Roosevelt’s Nightly Prayer: The Religious Life of the First Lady of the World, by Donn Mitchell

A great woman who was heavily involved in politics, Eleanor Roosevelt is considered one of the most important and beloved first ladies and female leaders. Her faith and beliefs are commonly dismissed as confines of the upbringing that she broke free from, though her dedication to the Episcopal Church and her reliance on Jesus’ teachings imply otherwise. Her nightly prayer, famously recorded in her writing, demonstrates her approach to serving her community and nation. Her inspiration and strength become apparent in the context of her religion and the fulfillment of her beliefs through her actions. In reviewing observations from family members, her own writing and her participation in the church, Mitchell examines the impact of Eleanor’s faith on her work, and by extension, its impact on the world.

CHILDREN'S BOOKS

Dog Man: Big Jim Believes, by Dav Pilkey

Our caped crusaders — Dog Man (aka Scarlet Shedder), Commander Cupcake and Sprinkles — along with Mecha Molly discover that the city has changed and nothing is how it should be. Can Big Jim’s positivity and innocence help our heroes? Will Dog Man, Big Jim, Grampa and Molly have the courage to trust each other and save the day? How does the past help shape the future? And who is the chosen one? Readers will want to hold onto their hero capes as they soar into a new thrilling Dog Man story. (Ages 7-9.)

The Humble Pie, by Jory John

The Humble Pie likes to give others the spotlight. Aw, shucks! They deserve it! But when he’s paired with his best friend, Jake the Cake, for a school project, he soon realizes that staying in the shadows isn’t always as sweet as pie. Readers of all ages will laugh along as their new pie pal discovers that letting your voice be heard can take the cake! (Ages 4-8.)

Goodnight, Crayons, by Drew Daywalt

The hilarious Crayons are ready to say good night . . . or are they? The Crayons are getting ready to go to bed, but each Crayon has something special they need to fall asleep. Blue Crayon needs a drink of water, Orange Crayon needs a blankie, Red Crayon needs a story or two or three. What do you need to fall asleep? A humorous, good night story from everyone’s favorite school supplies. (Ages 4-8.)

The Christmas Sweater, by Jan Brett

Yiayia is thrilled with the fantastically adorned Christmas sweater she made for her grandson’s dog, Ariadne. Her grandson Theo loves it too, but he can tell Ari doesn’t feel the same way. Luckily, Theo knows exactly what will show her just how cozy and warm the sweater is — a hike to Echo Lake. And he can wear his new snowshoes! The woods are a winter wonderland and more snow swirls as they hike. Just when they reach the lake, Theo realizes Ari’s sweater has disappeared, along with their tracks and every familiar landmark. Could they have lost Yiayia’s gift and the way home? Luckily, Ari spots something in the snow that turns out to be a surprising solution to their predicament.  (Ages 4-8.)

Dissecting a Cocktail

DISSECTING A COCKTAIL

Kettle to the Coil

Story and Photograph by Tony Cross

Years ago, I was commissioned to create a cocktail for a local event celebrating the famed author Tom Wolfe, who was a frequent Sandhills visitor. The book being highlighted was The Right Stuff, and the committee that hired me thought Tang, the orange drink mix, would be a great ingredient to include as an homage to the earliest astronauts. After a little persuasion, I was able to change their minds. The resulting cocktail that I called Kettle to the Coil did indeed include orange, but not in a powdery form. Instead, I infused the fruit and its oils in a blended Scotch whisky. I also incorporated a syrup with a wine base — pinot noir. Everyone loved the drink, and it ended up on my bar’s menu that year.

A great cocktail to serve during the cooler months, the whisky is rounded out with the orange oils, and the spices added to the pinot noir syrup scream fall weather. You can try this syrup in other cocktails that include whisk(e)y and sugar. It’s also great on its own with sparkling water. Some people get excited for pumpkin lattes this time of the year. I get excited for whisky and red wine.

Specifications

1 1/2 ounces orange oil-infused blended whisky*

1/2 ounce Drambuie

3/4 ounce fresh lemon juice

1/2 ounce pinot noir syrup**

Execution

Combine all ingredients with ice in a shaking vessel. Shake hard until the tin becomes frosted. Double strain into a chilled Nick & Nora glass. Express the oils of an orange coin over the cocktail. Lay orange coin on top.

*Orange Oil-Infused Blended Whisky

Using two 16 ounce Mason jars, add the following: flesh and peel of one medium orange; 1/2 bottle blended Scotch whisky (I use The Famous Grouse). Tighten jar and let sit for three days (shake or swirl the jar for 15 seconds once each day). When ready, pour infusion through a mesh strainer and then again though a coffee filter. Rebottle in the same whisky bottle.

**Pinot Noir Syrup

1 bottle (750 milliliters) pinot noir (preferably a lighter pinot like Willamette Valley)

3 cups granulated sugar

3 cinnamon sticks

1/2 apple (sliced)

1 tablespoon star anise pods

1 tablespoon whole cloves

1/2 tablespoon cardamom pods (crushed)

1/2 teaspoon fresh ground nutmeg

Zest of 6 oranges

Combine all ingredients in a medium saucepan over medium/high heat and bring to a simmer. Let simmer to the consistency of a rich syrup, 15-20 minutes.

Golftown Journal

GOLFTOWN JOURNAL

Doctor of Sport

Mind games with Bob Rotella

By Lee Pace

It’s not often you get an audience with a man who invented an entire industry.

But here on a June afternoon is Bob Rotella — 79 years old, sharp as a tack and fit as a fiddle — rummaging around his basement sports psychology laboratory outside Charlottesville, Virginia.

There are three rooms in his home in the Club at Glenmore community east of town where he has welcomed the likes of Rory McIlroy, Padraig Harrington, Tom Kite, Davis Love III and John Calipari for overnight visits to explore the art and science of the body and the mind in the field of competition. One room is a bedroom. Another is a workout facility. Then there is a “great room” of sorts with mirrors on the walls, a putting carpet and all manner of decorations, from a signed photo from Ben Hogan to a Claret Jug given to Rotella by Harrington after one of Harrington’s two Open Championship victories.

And of course, a couch. What shrink doesn’t have a couch?

“I love competing and playing,” says Rotella, a lifelong athlete and former college basketball and lacrosse player, “but I like helping people’s dreams come true more than anything. That’s pretty much what I do. I try to find something inside an athlete they never knew was there. I mean, I’ve had a lot of fun.”

My assignment to write and publish a coffee table book celebrating the impending centennial of Farmington Country Club (est. 1927) just west of Charlottesville has brought me to Rotella, who used his Farmington membership in the 1970s and ’80s as kind of a research lab to develop theory and practice on how the mind affects sports performance. Old-time members recall the sight of a young Rotella armed with pen and notebook interviewing golfers after matches to probe the depths of how their minds functioned with some hardware on the line.

Growing up in Rutland, Vermont, Rotella was a quarterback and safety in football, and played basketball and lacrosse at Castleton University. He wanted his life’s calling to be in teaching and coaching but over time began to ponder why it was, for example, he and his coaching mates would spend hours ruminating about how to get a player to take his sterling practice skills into the heat of competition and how to get a player to not let a mistake in the first quarter infect his performance the rest of the game.

“The people who were doing psychology with athletes in the early ’70s were all psychiatrists working with drug problems or serious clinical problems,” Rotella says. “I started thinking about it from a coaching perspective and performance enhancement. Some of the stuff these psychiatrists were writing, I thought, ‘What in the hell are they talking about?’”

In 1976, he moved to Charlottesville and joined the faculty at the University of Virginia to teach sports psychology and coach lacrosse. Soon after he got an offer for a tenure-track position that would include starting masters and doctoral programs in sports psychology and working directly with Cavalier athletic teams. He did that for 20 years and in 1996 left to devote full time to his sports psychology practice.

As of mid-2025, he had clients in golf who have won more than 80 major championships and was pegged by Golf Digest among the top 10 golf instructors of the 20th century. He’s ventured off the golf course for relationships with Red Auerbach, Greg Maddux, Tom Brady and Serena Williams, among many others. His work in the 1970s and into the ’80s was the domino that fell and led to a landscape in 2025 that has nearly every professional sports team having a “sports performance” or “sports psychology” consultant on the payroll.

“I took a few things that worked for me in competition and recognized how important the mind is in all forms of competition,” he says. “I got lucky and made a career out of it.”

Rotella has authored a half-dozen books, including his bestseller Golf Is Not a Game of Perfect. The one with most relevance for many golfers in the Sandhills entering turn four of life (present company included) is The Unstoppable Golfer — Trusting Your Mind & Your Short Game to Achieve Greatness. The premise of the book is that as golfers age and lose physical strength, they still have the ability to embrace their mental resources and develop their skills in getting up-and-down from 100 yards in. The short game, he says, is the path to “unstoppable golf.”

“To win this battle with yourself, you must have a good short game,” he writes. “Few of us can  blast the ball 300 yards off the tee. But nearly all golfers have the physical ability required to pitch the ball, to chip it, to putt it.”

This focus on sharp execution of pitching, chipping and putting is nothing new. Players with great short games “should be the cockiest players on the planet” wrote the great English champion Harry Vardon in the early 1900s. “You won’t fulfill your potential as a golfer unless you embrace your short game, love your short game, take pride in your short game, and stop wishing you had someone else’s long swing.”

Unstoppable Golf provides a hard reset of a golfer’s approach to the game. Part of it is mental and developing the ability to believe you have a lethal short game. That comes through practice repetition and taking your skills to the golf course and executing shots under pressure.

“You are what you have thought of yourself, and you will become what you think of yourself from this moment forward,” Rotella says. “Your brain is a faithful servant.”

He hammers hard the human tendency to dwell on the negative, to carry the memory of that chunky 45-yard wedge shot well down the road but dismiss the time you executed a perfect bunker save to break 80.

“I talk a lot about getting people to have an instant amnesia of their mistakes but a long-term memory of their good shots and putts,” Rotella says. “Most people have a tendency to attach strong emotions to their bad stuff and have no emotion attached to the good stuff.”

Rotella’s wisdom applies to all golfers but makes most sense to the senior cabal. An hour to practice? Devote at least half that time, if not more, to the short game area. Take a lesson with your pro around the chipping green, not the full swing turf. Take that $600 you’d spend on a new driver and instead get a set of custom-fitted wedges.

“No matter what level a golfer plays at, the majority of his shots will be within 100 yards of the hole,” Rotella says. “The easiest way to take five to 15 shots off the average player’s handicap is by taking fewer shots around the green.”

Rotella offers the very same advice to a 15-handicapper playing in the club championship that he’d offer to McIlroy or Harrington on the final day of a major championship: Stay focused on your target, visualize the shot, commit to routine, and accept completely whatever happens to the golf ball.

“A lot of people have a dream, and then they’re scared to death they’re not going to get it,” he says. “I really want everyone to see the shot they want, so I want their eyes and their mind to be into where they want the ball to go rather than where they don’t want it to go. It’s really no different from a tour player to a 25-handicapper.”

I’m sold. No more signing up for demo days at the club in lustful pursuit of a driver that might add five yards. Let’s hit 25 pitch shots each from 20, 40 and 60 yards and then climb in the bunker. Do that, Rotella says, and you can evolve into the kind of golfer he pegs as “the silent assassin.”

That has a nice ring, for sure.