Laura Koffler

The Butcher and the Vegetarian: One Woman's Romp through a World of Men, Meat, and Moral Crisis

admin — Sat, 24 Apr 2010 00:00:00 +0000

Food writer Tara Austen Weaver was raised in a vegetarian home since her birth. As an adult, she unexpectedly gets diagnosed with thyroid disease. What’s she to do? Fast for forty days? No. Go macrobiotic? Nope, not that either. Instead, Weaver must eat meat—by doctor’s order. So she turns to a carnivorous diet. What unfolds is part chick lit-cookbook and part treatise on farm animal rights.

Weaver’s introduction to the world of animal flesh brings her into contact with many meat-industry types. Some she casts in an ethical light. These include kind butchers and organic cattle ranchers. She also comes to know a charming meat blogger. Readers may object to the notion of ethical, caring cattle ranchers and butchers, but I can assure you these characters would cause anyone to re-examine their assumptions.

Throughout the The Butcher and the Vegetarian, Weaver’s writing is lively and clever. Readers will enjoy her wit and keen use of hyperbole. At one point she describes a Holy Grail-like experience wherein she smothers her steak in a rapturous chimichurri sauce.

The Butcher and the Vegetarian’s cover art depicts tiny hearts and cute cartoon characters, but the book offers up several dark and unexpected twists. One minute I was reading about pork tenderloin; the next thing I know, Weaver is describing how her mother's boyfriend molested her when she was thirteen and her two subsequent suicide attempts. Woah! Hold it right there, meat lady. I need a minute to digest!

Although surprised by the confession, I appreciate Weaver's honesty and think the topic of abuse deserves a place in the book. Weaver's relationship with meat mirrors her relationship with men. To her, meat is a very masculine experience.

In passing, Weaver mentions that she doesn't consider fish to be meat. And as for chickens, I was equally shocked to find out she puts them in the category of "almost not a meat." Still, The Butcher and the Vegetarian shares some good information about the treatment of farm animals and the truth about our (and their) sources of food. These facts are of great value to readers.

Although once a vegetarian, Weaver is no activist, and she also makes her preference for food over animal welfare transparent from the beginning. It does strike me as suspicious, however, that someone so horrified at eating a steak and so knowledgeable about the farming industry would be okay with consuming eggs and dairy. I wonder if she doesn't recognize the incongruity.

Personally, I could care less about how to prepare meat; it’s simply not part of my life. Though The Butcher and the Vegetarian is well written, Weaver lost me at each mention of fine cuts of X or a special preparation of Y. What I did find fascinating (and thoroughly graphic) was Weaver’s research visit to the farm where she witnesses the process of slaughter. She writes that seeing this occur repeatedly has a desensitizing effect, that it becomes ordinary, or even "normalized."

In my experience, there was nothing normal about it. When I was in veterinary school, I witnessed the slaughtering process several times, and the blood of those poor cows still floods my nightmares. Maybe that makes me overly critical. But it’s the truth.

Written by: Laura Koffler, April 23rd 2010

The Artist's Mother: A Tribute by History's Greatest Artists to the Women Who Created Them

admin — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 16:44:00 +0000

By Overlook Duckworth, Judith Thurman

Overlook Press

The artists featured in The Artist's Mother share three confounding commonalities. First, they paint; second, they have mothers; and third, they have painted their mother’s portraits. (Hope you’re still with me.) Apparently, this last trait was the key criterion for inclusion in this nifty thirty-six artist collection. Portraits appear in chronological order by the painter’s date of birth, making the arrangement educational as it shows the evolution of styles and customs through different artistic periods.

The essays that accompany each painting are well written and taken from various historical works. Rich in research, they share stories full of intimate family details. Judith Thurman, a staff writer for The New Yorker, who in the 1980s won the National Book Award for Non-Fiction for “Isak Dinesen: The Life of a Storyteller,” penned the introduction.

On the cover of the book is a painting known as "The Mother", and although this portrait of his mother made him famous, James Abbott Mac Neil Whistler was not too fond of it. "Arrangement in Grey and Black" was how he coldly referred to it. And against his wishes, the painting became a symbol of graceful and dignified aging and a flag for Mother's Day in Britain first, and then all over the World. This greatly frustrated a particularly smug Whistler, because what he really wanted was for critics to celebrate his careful technique.

Some of these paintings have a very self-portrait-like feel, maybe because of the close relationships that most of the artists had with their mothers. (Hello Freud!) They are also personal and not always very honest. Such is the case of Sofonisba Anguissola, who painted her mother twenty years after her passing away. Looking at this vivid painting it is almost impossible to believe she had such a clear memory of her.

The second of the Frida Kahlo’s portraits of her mother is particularly somber. Just a few months before her beloved mother passed away, Frida had suffered a miscarriage. She captured the sadness of both her mother’s passing and that of her unborn child in "My Birth", a portrait of herself, a stillborn baby, and the tragic face of her mother. Who better than Kahlo to illustrate the duality of maternal love, half joy, and half pain? Just tell that to Arshile Gorky's mom who starved to death during the Armenian genocide because she sacrificed her bread ration to keep her children alive. The things parents will do.

As much as I liked this book, I cannot fail to mention that it reads in a rushed fashion. Like a tabloid. It has plenty of editorial errors. The coup de grace concerns Giorgio de Chirico, who apparently was some sort of Benjamin Button. In the book he died in 1878, ten years before he was born in 1888. He then came back to life again in 1919 to paint his mother. Astounding! I say transport his “Portrait of the Artist and His Mother” immediately to the Paranormal Mystery Museum in case he feels like surfacing again.

Written by: Laura Koffler, September 11th 2009

Howdy Booby Time Organic Body Wash (Rosewood Lavender)

admin — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 09:10:00 +0000

By Sun Feather Natural Soap Company

Breast cancer. I hate it. Obviously it is not that I like any type of cancer, but I have a very special place in my dark chest of hatred for breast cancer. I do not know what it is exactly… maybe that most of its victims are women? Or maybe it is because it nearly took my beloved Aunt Anny away from me, twice. So I take it personally and everyone else should too.

If statistics are correct (and I hope they aren't) one in six women over the age of fifty will develop breast cancer during their lifetime, which means that we are all potential targets of this terrible transgressor. It is everybody's problem, and we should all try to cure it together.

Now, there are many ways we can try to defeat this lumpy nemesis, and some are easier than others. My favorite, because I like the oft-mischaracterized activity of shopping, is buying items from companies that donate a portion of their sales to research. The people at Sun Feather Natural Soap Company have made it especially easy for me by creating Howdy Booby Time Organic Body Wash, which they've labeled a "Breast Cancer Early Detection Soap." The body wash is designed for women to use for monthly breast self exams during bath or shower time, instructions included.

The wash consists of a blend of rosewood and lavender oil, and it smells ridiculously delicious. It makes my skin so clean and soft that it will really be impossible to wait a whole month before using it again. Whenever I open the bottle my whole bathroom smells like a fancy garden, and it makes me feel luxurious. Apparently, it makes my husband feel luxurious too because I am mysteriously running out of it really fast.

Something else that makes me feel luxurious (and philanthropic!) is to support a socially responsible, women-owned and operated company that is completely cruelty free, organic, and helps fight our collective battle by donating a portion of its Pink Ribbon profits to The American Cancer Foundation.

Written by: Laura Koffler, September 2nd 2009

Rocket Science For Dummies

admin — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 10:55:00 +0000

By Astronauts of Antiquity

RevCon Records

It does not take a rocket scientist to realize that Rocket Science for Dummies is a great album. Astronauts of Antiquity’s singer, India, and guitarist, B. Rhyan, are a musical match made in heaven.

They travel further, taking listeners on a well-designed trip of cosmic rhythms. Astronauts of Antiquity’s influence list is long, but they have managed to make an individual, well-crafted sound that, although resembling many, is like none. This wife and husband duet describes their music as “urban, electro, organica,” and though I fail to understand what this really means, it somehow feels like a good explanation. India’s voice is out of this world and gives these thirteen songs a jazzy effect, while Rhyan’s noticeable expertise on the sitar, guitar, and sarod contribute a world music sensibility.

It took the Nyack, NY-based twosome three years after the release of their first work, AoA 1, to come out with Rocket Science for Dummies. In this second record, it’s easy to tell that much pensive thought went into this satisfying album, which lifts off with the first song. “Everywhere” is a very danceable tune that makes me want to defy gravity. The same goes for “Sweet-tooth” and the title track.

If you’re not already of the opinion that “hare, hare, Krishna, hare” is a sexy chorus, Astronauts of Antiquity will definitely convert you, especially after you hear the “Love is a Mantra” remix. They are accompanied by a DJ and several guest musicians who play various forms of air instruments. Cee Knowledge (of Digable Planets fame) contributes on the groovy “Soup Du Jour.”

If these astronauts are planning an intergalactic tour anytime soon I would put on my jet pack and lovingly follow them anywhere.

Written by: Laura Koffler, March 22nd 2009

Cocoa Butter Body Cream: Vanilla Mocha

admin — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 23:58:00 +0000

By Alaffia

I love my organs! My kidneys are awesome. As bad as I have been to my liver, it has never let me down. My heart is a hard-working love machine. Although, I must say, my absolute favorite organ has to be my skin, and the best part is that I have lots of it!

My skin has been so good to me, I am certainly grateful that, even after years of long baby oil tanning sessions, it still appears mildly even-colored, and I haven’t attained that proverbial fried-pork-rind look. Still, something tells me that I should start taking better care of it, and that something is my brain, the organ that keeps the others alive, so I probably should listen.

As much as I like slathering my epidermis in an artificially perfumed mixture of aluminum starch octenylsuccinate, dimethiconol, threonine, and propylparaben, it might finally be time for me to start being able to pronounce whatever it is that is going into my still not-so-enlarged pores. And that’s why I’m really excited about Alaffia's Vanilla Mocha-scented Cocoa Butter Body Cream. With a little more than cocoa, shea butter, and vanilla extract, Alaffia has made a magical frosting that leaves my skin soft, not greasy, and smelling so much like a birthday cake that I am afraid to stay in a yoga pose for too long for fear that my classmates will take a bite out of me.

Alaffia is a Fair Trade co-op based partly in Olympia, WA, and partly in Togo, Africa (hometown of founder Olowo-n’djo Tchala). Togo provides the most basic of Alaffia's ingredients: shea butter. The West African members of the cooperative benefit by applying their knowledge of traditionally handcrafting the shea butter to make a fair wage, and since shea trees grow wild and are a renewable resource, it is also ecologically safe for their community. I also think it is important to mention that ten percent of all sales go directly to community enhancement projects in both West Africa and the state of Washington.

Besides the body cream, Alaffia creates lotions, soaps, shampoos, conditioners, and other products—all of which are available on their website at alaffia.com. Now, if someone can come up with a better product-benefit combination of having eco-friendly, soft legs and raising AIDS awareness while providing medical and school supplies to African communities, please let me know!

Written by: Laura Koffler, March 19th 2009

Eggy Cup

admin — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 17:24:00 +0000

By Scrumdidlyump

Scrumdidlyump is the tongue-twisting brainchild of Katie Elkins, who (according to her Etsy profile) comes from the faraway land of Dixie and lives in the land of weirdos - an obviously highly enlightened place. Her Etsy store is a perfect reflection of this weirdness. It’s a place where curiosity can lead online shoppers to beautiful clay dishes, silly spoons, wonderful vases, crazy cups, and what concerns us today: the mystical, majestic Eggy Cup - a diminutive, stand-like egg holding device.

This craft begs the question "which came first - the chicken, the egg or the Eggy Cup?" I could not help but think that my little Eggy Cup, what with its cute tripod legs and tiny, baby blue, glazed bowl resembles a miniature sacred shrine. Maybe, if we focus on the really important things in life, we will recognize the almost sacred power of the egg.

Yes, the aborted chicken deserves reverence. So I refuse to think of my little Eggy Cup as a shallow, useless goodie. Instead, I’ll call it what it really is: a necessary implement, a shrine for delivering the sustenance that life requires. And when my doting husband awakens this morning to cook an omelet for me, he’ll take solace in knowing he put the Eggy Cup to good use. And so will I.

Written by: Laura Koffler, July 16th 2008

Chai Tea Party Sugared Frosting Scrub

admin — Fri, 07 Dec 2007 19:19:00 +0000

By Bobe

http://www.bevperdue.com/ stands for "beyond ordinary bath essentials"—fitting as this product is quite extraordinary and, after trying it, has become an essential addition.

The Sugared Frosting Scrub's chai smell is so natural that it would be impossible to tell the difference between it and the real thing, the thick sugar grains melted on my face and body and I came out of the bath glowing and fragrant. (In my dream last night, I actually spread some of it on my husband’s slice of high fiber toast… or was that his breakfast?)

Besides being the best scrub ever, this product (and the whole line) is a responsible consumer's dream (yippee!). Marlese Sears, creator, offers customized bath and body products that are made, without any ingredients that are animal tested, at the time the order is placed, which reduces waste, and also provides the freshest merchandise.

Proving that beauty penetrates beyond dermal tissue, Bobe donates five percent of monthly retail sales to a different charity—from the African Children's Choir to the Schizophrenia Society of Saskatchewan.

I now love my Bobe product, and it’s equally exciting to find a company with impeccable quality and ethics. I will shamelessly spend my money there.

Written by: Laura Koffler, December 7th 2007

Throw like a Girl

admin — Thu, 06 Sep 2007 11:55:00 +0000

By Jean Thompson

Simon and Schuster

After being asked what she wanted for her readers to take away from Throw Like a Girl, Jean Thompson answered that she hoped they appreciate the “transforming power of literature, how can it remove us from the everyday world and let us see with new eyes.” And this book does just that: it takes us away from the everyday world and then painfully drops us back with the suspicion that this fiction is actually very real.

The horrors of normalcy and the tedium of a common life are the forces that drive the majority of the characters in these twelve stories; our “heroines” are far from the romantic or ladylike ilk, but instead more like tough, strong and violent. On the opposite side stand the men in these accounts, mostly unsuccessful and lost, they portray what nobody wants and what most end up getting.

In “The Brat,” a spooky but familiar story about teenage anger Iris, the twelve year old outcast main character that is not “pretty or smart or nicey-nice,” hates everybody and everything, and we hate her; we hate her and we understand her because we have been there. This character, as most in this collection, is like we were, are or will be. All of these women have the urge to live, to act on their thoughts and to get what they really want, and we know that getting what you really want is a trap. We know that if we go for the cheese it will cut our heads off, and we do it anyways. Jean Thompson is the story teller of our own collective story.

Lust and boredom force Mel in “A Normal Life” to leave her children and husband to marry the man she was having a hot and heavy affair with just to go around in the circle of dissatisfaction, where she ceases being a "sexy siren" and instead becomes “just another nagging, squawking wife.”

“The Family Barcus” analyzes the life of a perfect American family, with an obsessively optimistic father who eventually gives up on life. It’s told in a first-person velvety prose that slips into the brain and tightly wraps it for a long time.

The wit and black humor of the title are splendidly sinister. Throw Like a Girl is a phenomenal account, and when you read it, you’ll understand why it bears the title of the collection.

Written by: Laura Koffler, September 6th 2007

Newcomer's Handbook for Moving to and Living in Dallas-Fort Worth, Houston, and Austin

admin — Sat, 01 Sep 2007 15:31:00 +0000

By First Books

Ah, how luck changes. I once lived with my favorite person in my favorite neighborhood in my favorite city in the world: Austin, Texas. It was just the two of us. Quiet, peaceful and weird.

I also lived in what used to be my favorite apartment; it was perfect, until I unknowingly took in a flock of hungry, loved-starved fleas. Since that happened I have been fighting a constant war against these parasitic vermin. And it’s not just me. Every neighbor I know has the same problem—and many do not even own a pet, which leaves us all, for better or worse, scratching our heads and everywhere else for a solution.

And this is why I’m on a quest for a new home in a new neighborhood - one free of fleas - a space with no more inhabitants than my husband and me, with a wish that I can, once again, wear short shorts without being embarrassed by the bite marks on my legs. So, let me be the first to say that studying the Dallas-Forth Worth, Houston, and Austin Neighborhood Guide was paramount to me. As the marketers write in the cover, these guides are “designed to help you find the community that is right for you.”

It’s the first book in the series, and it’s chock full of valuable information about community publications, police departments, post offices, hospitals, libraries, schools, parks, websites and public transportation. It coverage includes the ins and outs of neighborhoods near and far, and it even speaks to the scintillating suburban areas of Dallas-Forth Worth, Houston, and Austin; fair suburbs, I raise my strip-mall purchased glass to thee! The book also chronicles the history of each different area, albeit from the perspective of a white, middle-class, male-leaning perspective.

The authors undoubtedly favor families, too, and though I have yet to help overpopulate the planet myself, I really have found its scrupulous details helpful in my new home search. The deft research deserves applause, but the book might be more enjoyable if it offered information about the shops, restaurants, and cultural aspects—you know, the things that make a neighborhood, well, a neighborhood.

While it’s not an even mildly entertaining read, the book might prove useful. So, if you’re living in or planning a move to Dallas, Houston, or Austin, it will give you an idea of your new surroundings. But you might, by serendipity, find a pub in one of the neighborhoods described and enjoy a nice beer in place of the cost of the book.

Written by: Laura Koffler, September 1st 2007

Shamanic Mysteries of Egypt: Awakening the Healing Power of the Heart

admin — Sun, 15 Jul 2007 02:22:00 +0000

By Nicki Scully, Linda Star Wolf

Inner Traditions

Nicki Scully and Linda Star Wolf have written a fun and strange manual that teaches us how we can unlock the secrets of the New Age teachings with the help of the shamanic Egyptian mysteries.

In addition to an array of beautiful illustrations, the authors have effectively organized the book into three parts. The first two contain instructions on performing rites of passage and meditations with a little help from our friends, the always accessible primary divine entities of prehistoric Egypt. The third section focuses on the four elements: water, earth, fire and air. The best part is a super-cool glossary of the gods, each with whom I connected for drinks at various stages while reading. I must say that while I got on well with them all, my favorite has to be Sekhmet because she "helps us to shape-shift into our future selves." And after turning into a hot pink unicorn, who could ask for anything more?

As we read this book our consciousness and awareness grow more deeply, but perhaps never as deeply as the weirdness of the rituals. Although I admit that being placed in a sarcophagus to undergo an initiation sounds like tremendous fun, having to surrender my DNA to a god's or goddess's will is bit much. Don't get me wrong, I am sure this was perfectly fine in the good old days, but now who the hell knows where your genes might end up?

In essence, Shamanic Mysteries of Egypt: Awakening the Healing Power of the Heart is a nice read. And while some pages left me as bored as the Great Sphinx has been since the Bronze Age, it would be a good $16 mind trip into mystical Egypt for anyone who's ever pondered about Isis, Osiris and their many pals.

Written by: Laura Koffler, July 14th 2007

Arachnina, The Spider Girl Perfume Oil

admin — Fri, 06 Jul 2007 17:00:00 +0000

Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab

Only three days ago I started wearing Arachnina. And since then, my life has changed completely. As I leave my house in my everyday attire of corsets, hobble skirts with crinolines and feather hats, I notice strange looks and dangling tongues from my intrigued neighbors. While this type of attention never came my way before, this lady must confess that she finds it quite pleasing.

In fact, the other day I went for my daily walk along the beach with my English Spaniel and my lacey umbrella and was approached by a very nice lad with a wooden leg and a sweet breath of rum. He suddenly started winking his only eye and calling me "love." We are now seeing each other, and that wooden leg more than makes me happy.

Yesterday, after I powdered my nose, I went to the deli shop to get some fish and chips and mushy peas and my usually nice toothless fish guy was nicer than ever; I got haddock instead of cod! Now I am seeing him too.

I love Arachnina. It brings to mind a walk in the dark, dirty streets of Whitechapel in 1888 – paranoid, foggy, foreboding London. Dark, dangerous and sinister, it is the best of scents. Its black currant, poppy, red and black musk, lilies, nicotiana and patchouli tones meld into a macabre love spell that only Satan himself could have made.

Written by: Laura Koffler, July 6th 2007