What’s a turnip?

Calculated Risks – Seanan McGuire

Disclaimer: This is the 10th book in a series, and the second in a mini-series featuring a recurring character, so to avoid any spoilers for anyone new to the series (and in an effort to hopefully convince anyone new to the series to give it a shot), I will simply (humbly) attempt to give a summary and review of the series overall. 

Summary: There’s a religious order that is aware of “monsters”—otherwise known as cryptids, or species as yet identified by (and maybe hiding from) science—that hunts them down. There’s also a family whose previous generations worked for this order and who recognize that these creatures are no monsters and are deserving of protection, and the books follow this family and their descendents in their efforts to fight the real monsters and save the creatures. 

At least one of the vegetables responsible for the brownish gravy that covered the whole thing shared enough of the chemical makeup of tomatoes to taste like paradise. The rest of the flavors were harder to define. 

If that sounds weird, you try explaining what a turnip tastes like to someone who’s never tasted one. If you can manage anything better than “like a potato, but maybe sort of sweet,” you’re a culinary genius. Now imagine the person you’re talking to has never had a potato either. You have no common point of reference. I could tell I was eating something close to root vegetables, and some kind of herbs, and some kind of fungus, maybe, along with the large chunks of what could almost have been shrimp, and a piece of what was almost but not entirely like bread.

p. 289

As soon as I heard of Seanan McGuire’s fae series about October Daye, I went to the library to give the books a try. Within a matter of a few weeks, I’d caught up on the series and was mad that I’d spent so long denying my own interests to even consider giving such a book series a try. And yet. And yet I kept putting off reading her InCryptid series because it seemed sillier. As if sillier wasn’t exactly the sort of thing to appeal to me. 

Then, well, you know, the world went into quarantine, and we all thought we might die of this new virus, and suddenly, silly was exactly what I needed. Then, like the Toby Daye series before it, I had caught up on the series within a matter of weeks, this time deciding to buy the trade paperbacks since libraries were often closed, or we feared this new virus as something potentially spread through touch (rather than air). 

I managed to catch up before the last two books were released, and it’s been a struggle since to wait the time between publishing, while recognizing that McGuire is one of the more prolific authors and that authors are people living through the same times as the rest of us. Still, this series captivated me. 

So, when the latest came out this past winter, I went back through not the entire series but more than half of it, the ones that centered on my favorite characters, and bits of my favorite moments. 

For me, while I’d enjoyed the series through all its twists and turns to date, I fell in love with the youngest daughter of the main family branch (so far). I’m the oldest and nothing like Antimony, but her stories spoke to me, mostly because she was the odd man out, and who doesn’t love the black sheep? (I mean, several assholes don’t, but that’s not what we’re here to talk about.) When a perfectly perfect and dramatic arc finished with her, I almost doubted I could love any family member as much, and then along comes cousin Sarah. Introduced in the first book (and per McGuire, one of the first characters she imagined in this world), Sarah is given the spotlight in books 9 and 10, including Calculated Risks. Again, I don’t want to spoil the series, but I am happy to say that the distance between her introduction and her turn in the main role was worth the wait for having all the background of the world and the family to truly want to wrap your arms around someone who’d probably prefer you kept your distance lest she manipulate your mind. 

While there’s plenty of other food items to spotlight throughout the series, I couldn’t help but return to the passage about the possible shrimp gumbo-like product discussed near the end of this book. I just loved the way McGuire both captured the flavors of something Sarah was bound to love while acknowledging how difficult it can be to define flavors, especially when the species you’re talking to may not be your own. I am a hater of the dreaded fungi, so I skipped that bit, but otherwise I did my best to envision what she described, and make it edible to a mere human palate. 

Extra-dimensional gumbo

Here’s what I did to make extra-dimensional gumbo: 

Ingredients

  • Oil, for sauteing
  • 1 lb. shrimp, peeled and deveined
  • 12 oz. andouille/cajun sausage, sliced
  • 1 onion, chopped
  • 1 bell pepper, chopped
  • 2 celery stalks, chopped
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • ½ c. lard (or butter or other fat)
  • ½ c. flour
  • 1 ½–2 qt. vegetable or chicken broth
  • 1 (14 oz.) can diced tomatoes
  • 1 (14 oz.) can black-eyed peas, drained and rinsed
  • 12 oz. frozen sliced okra
  • 1–2 T. creole seasoning
  • ½ T. dried thyme
  • 1 large (or 2–3 small) turnip, chopped
  • Cooked white rice, for serving
  • Scallions, for serving
  • Parsley, for serving
  • Bread, if desired and to match the book, for serving

Directions

  • Step 1: Add a small amount of oil to a large Dutch oven, and heat over medium heat. Add the shrimp and andouille, and saute until cooked through/browned. Use a slotted spoon to remove the meat, and set on a plate or in a bowl to cool. 
  • Step 2: In the same Dutch oven, melt the lard/fat and slowly add the flour, whisking to combine. Cook, stirring constantly, until golden brown, 3–5 minutes. 
  • Step 3: Add the onion, bell pepper, celery, and garlic, and cook in the roux until slightly softened, another 3–5 minutes. 
  • Step 4: Slowly add the broth, adding a cup or so at a time, to ensure the mixture remains thick. 
  • Step 5: Add the tomatoes, turnip(s), spices, and okra. Simmer the mixture for 40 minutes, covered, over low heat. 
  • Step 6: Add in the black-eyed peas, and cook for another 20 minutes, covered. 
  • Step 7: Add the meat into the mixture, and cook for about 5 minutes until reheated. Remove from heat and let cool slightly. 
  • Step 8: Serve the soup over rice, with scallions, parsley, and bread (if using), and enjoy!

Soup and the depths of friendship

Hell Bent – Leigh Bardugo

Disclaimer: This is the second (so far?) of two books, so there is one pretty big spoiler that will recur in this review; however, I did my best to keep it general. 

Summary: Galaxy “Alex” Stern is not your typical LA girl trying to make it at Yale—but that is mostly because she can see ghosts and her friend is in hell, but worse still, her past is catching up with her and the semester is just getting started.

“Bad news first, please.”

“We have to go back to hell.”

“I see,” he said. “And the good news?”

“Dawes is making avgolemono.” 

“Well,” he said as they reached the stone columns that marked the end of Arlington property. “That’s a relief.”

p. 392

My memory isn’t what it used to be, and these past few years have tested that even more, but I did remember the sort-of cliffhanger that ended the previous book in this series, Ninth House, well enough that when I learned that there would be a sequel, I knew I would be reading it as soon as it came out. 

Despite some details being vague from the first book, it was easy enough to fall back into the world of Alex Stern and the actually magical houses that occupy much of elite Yale. It was even better to dive back into the many worlds that the complicated young woman finds herself in and find myself at home. 

To avoid too many more spoilers than the hints given, I will just say that beyond the magic and the complications, there’s a nice story of friendships and the different ways they unfold—the ones you might leave behind from your pre-college years, the ones who get one aspect of you and those who get another, and the adults in your life who make you feel like you’re *almost* one of them as well. 

While this world does more or less revolve around Alex, Hell Bent does show different sides of this young woman, how she is in some ways perceived differently by different people and talks to them as such, but it’s still the same person underneath. And that will definitely keep me coming back again for more (assuming another in the series is on the way). 

Again, without further spoilers, there are so many moments in this book that revolve around the curative properties of homemade soup. As we find ourselves in the depths of winter now, I am reminded this is true regardless of whether magic exists in this world. 

While the avgolemono soup in the book is not further described, I have made this soup more than once, including trying to give it a little more heft than a starter. As it’s cold out, the added character makes for a nice, restorative meal. 

Avgolemono soup

Here’s what I did, using my old recipe:

Ingredients

  • 4 c. broth, chicken or vegetable will work
  • ¼ c. uncooked orzo
  • 3 eggs
  • 3 T. lemon juice (about 1 lemon)
  • Salt and pepper, to taste
  • 2 chicken breasts, cooked and chopped (or buy rotisserie and use about 2 c. of meat)
  • 14 oz. can quartered artichoke hearts, drained
  • Capers, for garnish, if desired

Directions

  • Step 1: In a large saucepan, bring the broth to a boil. Add the orzo, cover and simmer for about 7 minutes. 
  • Step 2: Mix together the lemon juice and eggs in a medium bowl. 
  • Step 3: Once the 7 minutes are up, ladle about 1 c. of the broth into the egg-lemon mixture, and stir well. Slowly add the mixture back into the saucepan, and stir until the soup thickens and becomes opaque as the eggs cook, about 1 to 2 minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste. 
  • Step 4: Add chicken and artichoke hearts and cook for another 3–5 minutes or so until the artichoke hearts are heated through. Ladle into bowls, top with capers (if using) and enjoy!