I have a problem with the word amazing. Also, fantastic. I use them far too often, especially in my book reviews. I’ve tried countless thesauri (or thesauruses, if you prefer), but I still find those bland, over-used adjectives in my sentences, dulling phrases that should be sharp. Imagine my excitement when a customer introduced me to Better Than Great: a Plenitudinous Compendium of Wallopingly Fresh Superlatives, by Arthur Plotnik. (The program I’m writing this on doesn’t recognize two of the words in that title as part of the English language…I’ll let you guess which). Plotnik hates the words amazing, great, and fantastic so much that he launched a revolution against them, which takes the form of a very unique thesaurus containing only superlatives. If you’re feeling skeptical, just look at a few of my recent reviews, before and after I discovered this book:

Before: George R. Martin’s Game of Thrones is amazing, featuring fantastic plotting and scenes of heart-pounding adventure and swordplay.

After: George R. Martin’s Game of Thrones is resplendent, featuring brilliantly dexterous plotting and scenes of blood-bleaching adventure and swordplay.

Before: The Borrower is an odd, beautiful love letter to great books, a novel sure to appeal to teachers, librarians and passionate readers of all stripes.

After: The Borrower is a singular, rhapsodic love letter to great books, a novel sure to appeal to teachers, librarians and obsessive readers of all stripes.

My sentences will never be the same!

—Kat

We are certainly not the first (nor will we be the last) to laud the incredible cookbooks from Tartine Bakery in San Francisco. (Kendra Baker, co-owner of The Penny Ice Creamery, recently recommended them to our customers as two of her favorite culinary titles.) They are hands-down terrific and will honestly help you recreate the gorgeous bread and baked goods they make at Tartine. (Still, you must promise to visit the bakery the next time you’re in San Francisco. Even if the line is out the door. We swear it’s worth it.)

We know it’s summer and you might not have bread baking on your mind, but our bookseller Holly does! Besides, what could be better than a beautiful baguette or gorgeous sandwich bread for picnics?

When I first encountered Tartine Bread, my initial response was a sort of mental “Aaahhhhggggllluuuuhhhh” sound accompanied by salivation that would have made Pavlov proud. The cover alone was enough to make me more than a little nostalgic for the bread I grew up eating in San Francisco.

When I calmed down and was actually able to read what Chad Robertson wanted me to do to create such irresistible loaves in my very own oven, I balked. I’ve been baking since my childhood, but Robertson’s 26-page recipe overwhelmed me, even if 13 of these pages are artful instructional photos.

I received the book as a gift, however, and thought, what the hell, it couldn’t hurt to at least make a starter. In three days I had a community of wild yeast thriving in a Tupperware on my counter. Inspired, I decided to tackle the recipe, reading and rereading Robertson’s instructions until I had a basic understanding of the technique and the science that would go into making my first loaf of “artisan” bread.

Holly's bread

I won’t claim that creating that ideal loaf of rustic country bread is easy, and it’s certainly not quick (it usually takes about 36 hours, though a lot of that simply involves waiting around for the yeast to proliferate), but it is so worth it. When I tasted that first bite of my very own loaf of Basic Country Bread, my world changed. Finally, I thought, I have found amazing bread in Santa Cruz, and I made in with my own two hands.

—Holly

I was eleven when I first met Harry Potter. A friend of my aunt’s gave me The Sorcerer’s Stone as a Christmas gift, and I was completely enthralled by the funny, sweet, and thrilling tale. Now, as the final movie is released, an entire era of my life comes crashing to an end, and I struggle to figure out what I’m going to do without more Harry.

At the beginning, the novelty of the world was especially delightful because the reader got to discover it along with Harry. His awe was our awe, and his thrills were ours. The eccentric characters were utterly lovable, and despite their magical life, completely relatable. I love the way Rowling seamlessly blended different mythologies into unique parts of Harry’s world, and the minute details she included, from butterbeer to Quidditch, to create an incredibly real universe, carefully hidden within our own. As the books progressed, each builds upon the previous, until you get to the end, and find that each book connects to the others in far more than simply a chronological sense. As the battle for the wizarding world escalates, the lessons from the very first book come to have deeper and deeper meaning, specifically that regarding the power of love, and not just romantic love, but that of friends, family. Adult themes, such as segregation, tolerance, and good and evil are neatly included.

As the years passed, and Harry grew and learned, so did I. As he tackled adolescence, hormones, and trouble with teachers, so did I. True, I never had to battle dragons or defeat evil, but I did have to deal with crushes, struggling with subjects (such as math), and problems with friends. For every year that Harry grew older and wiser, so did I, although certainly not as wise as he. During tough times, I turned to Harry to take me away from it all.

In my devotion, I have read the books over and over, attended midnight release parties for both the movies and the books, and never, ever felt my love diminish. So it is that now, I reach a time in which there will be no more Harry. No more books, no more movies. And I find that I’m not entirely prepared. As I purchased my tickets for the midnight premiere of the last film, I felt tears tickle my eyes (as well as an unbearable excitement). I turn 24 this year, almost a quarter of a century, yet nothing has made me feel more like an adult than watching thirteen years of Harry Potter, and my life, come to a close. All that’s left is saving for a trip to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Orlando, Florida.

I guess all in all, what I really want to say is, thank you, Harry, for making my life magical.

—Flannery

Bestselling author Arthur Phillips recently visited our store for a book talk and signing of his new book, The Tragedy of Arthur. To our delight, he also dined with local publisher Steve Lawton and some of our staff after the event. Here is one of our bookseller’s account of a wonderful evening. (If you’re not already familiar with it, don’t miss Seana’s terrific blog, Not New For Long, where this post originally appeared.)

My Dinner With Arthur

Okay, technically it wasn’t my dinner, and it would have made a better title here if his name was Andrew, or even Andre.  But Arthur Phillips was in town last week to read and talk about his new book, The Tragedy of King Arthur, and local publisher and patron of the arts, and, more importantly for me, old friend Steve Lawton decided to take a new approach to the fact. He invited a few friends of the bookish persuasion to join him at a dinner for Mr. Phillips. He also said in advance that he would offer to pay for half of the book for the first thirty people who took advantage of the offer. I’m not sure if anyone actually took him up on the book angle, but the bookish friends took him up on dinner, because that is what bookish friends do.

In the not so olden days, this would probably have been in the purview of the bookstore or the publisher or some combination of the two. With bookstores struggling to survive, that kind of thing is largely of the past, and I never knew it to be a major feature of the business anyway. Publishers probably do their wining and dining of authors somewhere other than small cities off the main  book tour track. But in many ways, this evening was better. Steve took great care to welcome one of his favorite authors, and though the blown life up photos of Mr. Phillips head used as placemats was a risky touch, it seemed to have gone over well. Perhaps more important was the centerpiece of Arthur Phillips works, and Steve’s close reading of all of them.

Arthur seemed up to pretty much everything the group could throw at him, and was gracious and appreciative of everything. I don’t want to get too much into the details of dinner conversation without everyone’s permission, but of course the conversation turned to the decline of books, as it inevitably does among any group of people who has a vested interest in their persistence. Arthur wondered after we had all gloomed it up for awhile about why what seems to be their passing seems so  sad to us, since we at the table will probably always have books, and plenty to read until we ourselves are gone. If the next generation doesn’t care about them, what of it? It’s a good question, and was met by a musing silence. I think we want to pass them on, one of the guests said.

Anyway, at least some of us–the ones I’ve checked in with since–had a marvelous time. I’m not usually so namedroppy, but I really appreciated Steve’s generosity and cleverness in putting the whole shebang together, and thought I’d mention it partly in thanks, but also because it might inspire a similar idea sometime in, well, YOU.

The reading itself, by the way, was highly entertaining. Some writers know how to do the traveling show aspect of this part of their gig and some don’t, and no shame to them if its the latter. But Phillips has his act down, and I expect there is very little that could ruffle him in such a situation. Even a woman wandering into the room because she thought she’d heard him mentioning Brown College was taken into his schtick.

One man was noticeably laughing the whole time. Steve ran into the guy later in the parking lot and it turned out that he and his wife had seen Phillips on Jeopardy. They had come because they wanted to know if he was that funny in person.

Turns out he was.

And yes, I did buy a copy of the book that night. I’ll be getting back to you on it before too awfully long.

–Seana

The most recent cookbook from the Moosewood Collective, Moosewood Restaurant Cooking for Health, is so freakin’ delicious you’ll forget all about the health bit. I recently served up the Curried Red Lentil Burgers alongside the Mango Slaw. It was a fantastic meal. That slaw is so wonderful, it’s my pick for potluck picnics. It’s a little heavy on the prep time–I made a double batch for a group get-together and it took about hour and twenty minutes–but it’s the perfect summertime side. There’s no mayonnaise; instead you have delicious mango, contrasting mint, and a refreshing lime juice dressing. I loved it and all my friends loved it, too. The burgers were also quite good: They tasted wonderfully of curry, ginger, cinnamon, and garlic. And the lentil and brown rice mixture held together so we didn’t get that squished-burger-out-the sides effect.  I’m definitely looking forward to everything else that this health-conscious but flavor-dominated cookbook has to offer.

-- Nici

Back in January I resolved to make 2011 the year of sewing. My plan: Put my sewing machine to use, master the art of turning fabric into finished items, and wow my friends and relatives with homemade gifts all year long.

It’s four months into the year, and I’m happy to say that this resolution did not go by the wayside. I’ve been using Lotta Jandotter’s Simple Sewing as my guide because of all the books I looked through, it seems to have the best instructions. Also, it really does have simple projects that are perfect for beginners, plus slightly more complicated projects for once you get that confidence built up. The patterns that are included–already printed out and just waiting for you to use them–are also of great benefit to the novice.

Potholders were my first project and they were relatively easy to do. The trickiest part was executing the last finishing stitch. The pattern called for a topstitch all the way around the edge, but my sewing machine was wimping out. I has used synthetic batting meant for heat resistance instead of the wool batting the pattern called for. This made it just that much thicker and I couldn’t get my machine to sew through it right at the edge. I had to topstitch further in–creating a ridge around the edge–and then hand sew the closures on the sides. They turned out great–not quite as professional as the photos in the book, but I never really expected them to.

All in all, it was a fun and highly successful project and I’m really looking forward to attempting something from the next chapter of the book, which has ideas for of all kinds of great bags. I’ve got my eye on a simple tote that looks like the perfect Project #2.

I discovered Classic Home Desserts by Richard Sax last fall when I needed a good a good recipe to help me make pumpkin pie completely from scratch. Our cookbook guru, S.B., recommended this book for it’s “Best-Ever Pumpkin Pie” recipe, and it sure lived up to its name. I roasted pumpkins and made pie crust for the first time ever and wowed the family. Even without a rolling pin (thank goodness for empty wine bottles!), I was amazed by how easy the whole process was.

The Stevenot Vineyards Tempranillo makes an excellent rolling pin. It's also a super delicious wine.

After that success I tried out the apple pie recipe–another success. Apparently my pie pan was on the small end of the spectrum–or perhaps the apples I chose were on the large end of the spectrum–but I ended up with extra filling that I baked up into a wonderful apple crisp. I even had enough that I brought some to work and had all my co-workers raving about it as well!

Now that it’s spring, I think I’ll make “The World’s Best Lemon Tart.” And summer might bring “Southern-Style Peach and Raspberry Cobbler.” Really, there’s no shortage of delicious recipes to try.

Classic Home Desserts is super helpful, easy to follow, and full of great tidbits of information. It’s not overly complicated or fancy, so it’s perfect for the home baker. I’d recommend it to anyone wanting to increase their baking repertoire or wanting to impress their family on special occasions.

-- Nici

Bookshop bookseller, Kat, made a new year’s resolution to read all of the current National Book Award winners and write about them on Bookblog Santa Cruz. Here is her review of Mockingbird by Kathryn Erskine, winner of the award for Young People’s Literature, which is now available in paperback. Don’t miss her previous post: a review of the Nonfiction winner, Just Kids by Patti Smith.

The premise of Mockingbird is undeniably grim. Our protagonist, ten-year-old Caitlin, has just suffered a tremendous loss: her older brother, Devon, has been killed in a shooting at his school. Caitlin now lives alone with her stricken father, who is barely holding it together, and her own grief is complicated by the fact that she has Asperger’s Syndrome. Even on good days, Caitlin finds it impossible to relate to her classmates, her teachers, the well-meaning and sympathetic public, or anyone, really. Except for her brother.

It is Caitlin’s patient and kind guidance counselor who first introduces her to the concept of Closure. Because Caitlin tends to take the world literally, she believes that Closure is something that should be capitalized, something tangible that she needs to search for and bring home to her father. She looks it up in her much-beloved dictionary, which doesn’t clarify much. The adults she goes to for help are equally mystified, because who, after all, can really explain what Closure is, much less where to find it? In searching for this enigmatic concept, Caitlin comes to understand that sometimes the dictionary definition doesn’t quite take us far enough. Sometimes, we have to wrestle with something before we can begin to understand it.

As I read Mockingbird, I was reminded of another book I recently read and loved, Room by Emma Donoghue, which is narrated by a five-year-old boy. Both Erskine and Donoghue use characters with deceptively simple voices to tell enormous, heart-breaking stories. Caitlin is a fascinating and lovable narrator, and her struggles with grief will ultimately be familiar to anyone who has ever lost a loved one. I couldn’t stop reading this book, couldn’t stop thinking about Caitlin and her lovely but sometimes frustrating take on the world.  A beautiful read for just about all ages.

—Kat

When I was a little girl growing up in the country, my love of animals and the outdoors was eclipsed only by my love of books. One day I was given a copy of Mariel of Redwall by Brian Jacques, the story of a mouse maiden in search of her father. I was utterly entranced by the tale of the Abbey dwellers, woodland creatures of all kinds, as they lived, loved, cooked, and defended their home against rat pirates. I quickly devoured the other books in the Redwall series, each one as delightful as the last. I loved the characters’ peaceful lives in their red stone Abbey in the middle of the woods, the elaborate feasts they held, the games they played, and the friendships they held. They were brave, truthful, daring, peaceful, and wise. They sang, unraveled mysteries and riddles, went on quests, and vanquished villains, all the while protected by the spirit of their guardian and founder, the warrior mouse, Martin.

As a child with a vivid imagination, these books were perfect. Living in the country gave me the opportunity to live out my own little Redwall fantasies. I collected berries and dandelions and made cordials and cakes from them. I ran around with a stick, playing warrior maiden, yelling Redwall battle cries and lopping the heads off of particularly tall weeds. Even today, the influence of both the morals encompassed in the books and the British lexicon are evident in my beliefs and manner of speech.

As I grew out of my wild childhood, I continued to read each new release, loving every one for its characters, adventures, and ideals. So I was deeply saddened when I heard of their author, Brian Jacques’, death on February 5th from a heart attack. Thankfully, as a last gift to his fans, one last Redwall novel awaits release in May this year, and his body of work—both his Redwall stories and other independent works—remain for all to enjoy for years to come. Jacques was a truly gifted writer who made his world as real and vivid as our own. His contribution to children’s books was monumental, and he will be sorely missed.

—Flannery

Read a full obituary at http://www.latimes.com/news/obituaries/la-me-brian-jacques-
Learn more about the Redwall series and Jacques at http://www.redwall.org/
Find books by Brian Jacques on bookshopsantacruz.com

I have to admit, I never paid much attention to the National Book Award until Colum McCann won for his novel Let the Great World Spin in 2009. I had never paid much attention to Colum McCann, either, but suddenly the red and beige cover of his book was everywhere. On a whim, I picked it up (oh the joys of working in a bookstore—so many whims satisfied), and after reading just the prologue I was irrevocably hooked. I love that book. It became my favorite novel of 2009, and I still revisit it from time to time.

When the National Book Award winners for 2010 were announced, I remembered my experience with McCann’s novel. It’s so easy to fall into a reading rut (yes, even when you work at a bookstore), when you find you can’t focus on one book long enough to really sink into it. I was in one of those, and I wanted out. So, on another whim, I decided to read all four of the National Book Award winners for 2010 (Fiction, Nonfiction, Biography, and Young Adult Literature). I don’t usually do resolutions in the new year, but I figured it was as good an excuse as any to introduce a few new writers into my life.

I started with Patti Smith’s memoir Just Kids. I should probably mention before I go on that before I read her book, I knew nothing about Patti Smith. I had never listened to her music or read her poetry, and I knew nothing about her longtime partner and friend, Robert Mapplethorpe. I was sorely ignorant of all things Patti. But I loved her book; I devoured it in nearly one gulp on a December afternoon. It’s about young love and the bond she shared with Mapplethorpe, but also about her impassioned, all-encompassing dedication to becoming an artist. It’s also a portrait of New York City at a specific time—the late 1960s—complete with a cast of characters infamous and iconic. In reading her memoir, I have gained a new hero.

Next up: Kathryn Erskine’s young adult novel Mockingbird.

—Kat