vol. 1: sara's books&breakfasts, jan. ed.
In the spirit of connection during an ever-extending pandemic (and following up on my grade seven teacher’s advice that students come to me when looking for book recommendations 🤓 ), I’ve decided to join Substack with a [totally non-professionally-related] newsletter for my nearests and dearests. If you’re in the mood, follow along for a monthly share of a few books, poems, articles, and breakfast recipes in which I’ve found some delight. It would be lovely to hear your thoughts! Hope you can enjoy these over a nice hot beverage (mine would be an overly oat milky coffee).
“Exhaling” by Emmanuel Carrère (translated by John Lambert)
The French author Emmanuel Carrère’s philosophical, humorous and romantic piece about a man at a meditation retreat will resonate with anyone who’s ever tried meditation or found themselves lost at a juncture in their lives. Full of allusions to Simone Weil, Glenn Gould, Ram Dass, Arthur Schopenhauer and Charlie Hebdo, the narrator recounts tales of romantic trysts and marriages gone wrong as his vritti (defined in this story as “the movements of the mind”) swirl while he sits on his zafu for hours on end. A beautiful story told with a light touch about the pursuit of quietude in our ever-moving modern world.
“I view the last quarter of my life - because, statistically, at almost sixty that’s the phase I’m entering - in line with Glenn Gould’s maxim, which I’ve copied so often into so many successive notebooks: ‘The purpose of art is not the release of a momentary ejection of adrenaline but is, rather, the gradual, lifelong construction of a state of wonder and serenity.’”
Bonus paired suggested listening: Glenn Gould- … and Serenity (Sony Classical, 2003)
NB: This piece is an excerpt from Carrère’s recent novel (& French literary sensation!), Yoga.
The Strangers by Katherena Vermette (2021)
This multi-generational story of the women of the Stranger family picks up where Vermette’s gripping The Break left off (although you don’t need to have read The Break to get caught up in this!). Phoenix, a young Métis woman, is in a correctional facility as her sister Cedar is bounced between foster homes and their mother Elsie struggles without them. Vermette’s portraits of Cedar, Phoenix, their mother Elsie and grandmother Margaret are so intimately told, I found myself not wanting to leave the characters when the book ended. An important look at many of the issues facing Indigenous women in Canada today.
“Close Read: How a Gray Painting Can Break Your Heart” by Jason Farago
Jason Farago’s study of Jasper Johns’ austere painting “In Memory of My Feelings - Frank O’Hara,” painted in the fall of 1961, exposes this abstract, post-war painting to be full of intimate personal feeling, pain and deep intentionality. For anyone who’s ever struggled to make sense of abstract art, this interactive article delves into Johns’ style, process and contemporaries. A deeply fulfilling read, especially for those of us missing art galleries during the Covid-19 lockdowns.
“Why I Am Not a Painter” by Frank O’Hara
Although this poem isn’t new to me, I couldn’t read the Jasper Johns article without thinking about O’Hara’s beautiful discussion of art and poetry and the limitations of both in this poem full of pain and playfulness.
I am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
a painter, but I am not. Well,
for instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting a painting. I drop in.
“Sit down and have a drink” he
says. I drink; we drink. I look
up. “You have SARDINES in it.”
“Yes, it needed something there.”
“Oh.” I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in. The painting is
finished. “Where’s SARDINES?”
All that’s left is just
letters, “It was too much,” Mike says.
But me? One day I am thinking of
a color: orange. I write a line
about orange. Pretty soon it is a
whole page of words, not lines.
Then another page. There should be
so much more, not of orange, of
words, of how terrible orange is
and life. Days go by. It is even in
prose, I am a real poet. My poem
is finished and I haven’t mentioned
orange yet. It’s twelve poems, I call
it ORANGES. And one day in a gallery
I see Mike’s painting, called SARDINES.
Rose Bakery’s Gluten-free Buckwheat Pancakes
At the end of my recent audition tour of Europe, I spent two weeks in Paris camped in my aunt and uncle’s vacant studio apartment in the Marais (there are worse things). On one of my many quiet days to myself, I diverted from my .90c baguette and two-euro camembert diet and made a pilgrimage to the Rose Bakery on the Rue des Martyres, sampling their pricey and delicious salads while sitting outside in a square overlooking a carousel. Now back home in Toronto, I’ve discovered their cookbook, and these buckwheat pancakes were a light, nutty and sweet way to start my weekend.
Rose Carrarini’s Gluten-free Buckwheat Pancakes
Serves 4-6
4 eggs, yolks and whites separated
400ml (1 ¾ cups) milk (I used unsweetened almond)
100ml (scant ½ cup) natural (plain) yogurt
150g (1 cup) buckwheat flour
70g (½ cup) rice flour (I used Bob’s Red Mill GF flour)
2 tablespoons cornmeal
1 tsp baking powder
Pinch of salt
2 tbsp caster (superfine) sugar
A little unsalted butter, for cooking
Beat together the egg yolks, milk & yogurt until nice and smooth.
In another bowl, combine and sift together the dry ingredients.
Lightly combine the two mixtures.
Beat the egg whites until stiff and fold into the batter.
Melt butter in a small frying pan and pour in 3-4 TBSP of batter, cooking until the pancake is lightly golden.
Flip and cook for another minute.
*obviously, serve with maple syrup :)