HANK: Blessings on the fabulous Jesse, who was supposed to be here on Monday, but then got--well, how shall we put this--pre-empted by all the Femmes good news! (And there's more FEMME DANA is nominated for the Anthony for Best Short Story for Mischief in Mesopotamia" and my THE OTHER WOMAN is nominated for Best Novel! So we are still very very happy in Femmes world.)
But today, it's Jesse's turn.
I met Jesse about a million years ago, when she gave me the best critique of five pages of my second book I've ever seen! I still think about things she told me. She used to write dark, suspenseful stories--she's written countless published novels! But then she fell in love, awwww... And now is writing more "gentle" stories about romance on a family run dude ranch. She rides, she's a science geek, and she's just--terrific.
Femmes--meet Jesse Hayworth!
Grammie George and the green chili
Tra-di-tion … TRADITION! (I figured I would share that Fiddler earworm, as it’s been going through my head ever since I started thinking about writing this blog post. You’re welcome.)
Greetings, Fatales, and thanks so much to Hank for having me here today! As you might have guessed, I’ve been thinking a bunch lately about family traditions, the sort that get passed down through the generations, helping define us and bind us together.
One of the big pass-it-down traditions in my family is the Joy of Cooking. I learned to cook using my mother’s falling-apart copy, which had been a gift from her mother, and I received my own one Christmas. I might have been disappointed that it wasn’t a model horse (though I’ll deny it if you ask in front of my mom), but I’ve kept my copy through thirty-ish years and many life changes.
These days, it lives in the kitchen of my tucked-away home, marked up with red and blue pen and puffy from the many loose papers and note cards stuck between the pages. Some day, I hope to pass on a copy to an offspring to be named at a later date, whether it be a George or a Georgia.
Though I just celebrated the big four-oh, I’m a relative newlywed, having married into a big, interconnected sprawl of a family that was best described when my then-boyfriend said, “Don’t be nervous about meeting them. They’ll love you because they love me, and I love you.” Which has absolutely proven true. And they not only welcomed me wholeheartedly, there has been a refrain of “Grammie George would have loved you!”
Grammie George, it turns out, was a shotgun-toting, English-teaching force of nature who went through several husbands and adored the written word, books and authors. I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet her in this life, but I have a feeling she’d be proud of the legacy she left behind. Which, since we’re talking about tradition, includes Grammie George’s Green Chili.
For our second date (thank you, Match.com), my now-husband built an amazing salsa from the ground up. And as he roasted the peppers, he told me about the family’s green chili, and how each member might make it a little differently, but it all went back to Grammie George learning the recipe in New Mexico back in the ‘fifties.
The following summer, at our wedding, I got family points not only for taking his unpronounceable last name, but also asking for the green chili recipe.
Except there wasn’t one.
His brother (I got a brother-in-law, how cool is that?), who is a far better cook than I, did this sort of interpretive dance of “you take a piece of meat about this big” (makes football-size gestures) “simmer it with whatever spices look good …” His father (also an excellent cook, especially if open flames are involved) did something similar.
Unfortunately, I cook like a scientist—I need a protocol, darn it! So I emailed my mother-in-law, who teaches abroad. I think she was in Germany at the time. She responded with “I don’t think we’ve ever written this down …”
But, bless her, she sent me meat suggestions, approximate poundages, and some alternatives in case I couldn’t find everything. (She was used to making do with whatever she could get, whether it be Africa, rural China, or wherever.)
Since then, I’ve put a whole lot of miles on my pretty red crockpot and made Grammie George’s Green Chili my own.
I’ve also eaten several other versions at the big, boisterous family get-togethers that seem to spring up at regular intervals just because. And I love knowing that, like the Joy of Cooking and some version of the name George, I’ve got green chili to pass along to the next generation when the time comes.
So tell me, what’s your most famous (or infamous) family tradition? I’d love to hear about it!
HANK: we have so many! But one is: when we're going on a road trip, just at the end of the driveway we have to say-- "How do you like it so far?" like my stepfather always did. And the Femmes will give away a Mustang Ridge book to a lucky commenter!
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Jesse Hayworth is the contemporary romance-writing alter ego of NYT bestselling paranormal and suspense author Jessica Andersen. She's a farm girl from way back, complete with tractors and livestock. Now farmless and driving a Subaru named Roo, Jesse lives on the East Coast with a cranky tabby she rescued from an auto shop and a beloved husband, who rescued her from Match.com. She loves writing about wide-open spaces, animals, and true love, and she hopes you'll come along for the ride!
"Hayworth’s print debut, the second in her Mustang Ridge series, is a beautiful love story expressed in simple, elegant language about a vulnerable mother, her troubled child, and an enigmatic cowboy who has been scarred by love. With a solid plot and a host of sympathetic, genuine characters, Hayworth takes her time weaving a tale of love and healing, all set against the beautiful rural backdrop of the Wyoming mountains. This heartwarming story is a keeper."
4.5 stars and a TOP PICK--RT Magazine
www.JesseHayworth.com
@JesseHayworth
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