A contest no one should win

This morning, my stomach churned when I accidentally ran over a little animal that had already been hit in the road. I would gladly revisit that scene again in lieu of opening a weekly rag in Atlanta called 'Creative Loafing' and having my eyes fall prey to this photo.

After calming my gag reflex, I simply had to know what in the world this photo reflected. And let me just note, bless it if you have great confidence. I love people who work with what their momma gave them. However, this photo has just too much pale skin and derrieres for an unsuspecting girl who is just trying to drink her herbal tea and catch up on some local news.

Recently, Altanta was home to a convention called Frolicon. And these unabashed women were contestants in the "Most Spankable Arse" contest.

And no, I wouldn't make this up because if I would make this up, I certainly would include a better photo. And according to the paper, this photo captures the contestants "warming up". And by all means, you probably would need to warm up as you pursue first place in this crowning ceremony.

And Frolicon is apparently billed as a SciFi convention. Because nothing pays tribute to Captain Kirk and Dr. Spock better than a palm to the ass.

Say it right

And finally, a much needed break from the typical coverage of AIG and more struggling corporations. But I would never guess the Wall Street Journal would be the host of such an digression from their usual style. I love it.

When I was a young college student, I popped over to the jewelry counter at Nordstrom to have a necklace fixed. The woman behind the counter asked how she could help and I replied "The clasp on this Givenchy necklace broke, and would love to have it fixed." I, unknowing, committed a major faux pas. Not in asking for service but in my pronunciation. I had pronounced it gi-ven-chee.

Her reply, You mean Zhee ven Sheeeeeee?"
I said, "I am sorry, what?"
Her response, "You mean, you would like your Zhee Ven Sheeeee necklaced fixed?"
Her with a blank stare. Me, with I promise you, was not a poker face.
Yes, precious lamb, I do mean Zheeeeeeeee Ven Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

But, she did me a favor, because pronouncing things correctly, well, its necessary. We should want to be educated if we are mispronouncing words, fashion designers, or otherwise.

And apparently, I was not an isolated incident. And who weighs in to help? The Wall Street Journal. I would never anticipate such a topic would merit their attention but kudos. We can all learn a little something beyond continuing bail outs.

How to Pronounce Fashion Names

By TERI AGINS
Q: I felt pretty out of it when I asked a saleswoman about the handbags of "Bottega Veneta" -- and she promptly corrected my pronunciation -- to VEN-e-ta instead of ven-ETT-a. Can you give us a little glossary on how to say foreign fashion names like Nicolas Ghesquière? And how about Ralph Lauren and Donna Karan -- are their surnames stressed on the first or last syllable?—W.D., New York

Say What?
Click on each link to hear the correct pronunciations of some fashion designers, as recorded by Journal fashion reporter Christina Passariello.
Alber Elbaz for Lanvin
Balmain
Bulgari
Givenchy
Jean Paul Gaultier
Loewe
Louis Vuitton
Nicolas Ghesquière
Ungaro
Vacheron Constantin
Versace
Yves Saint Laurent
Zegna

A: I remember when American consumers in the 1970s routinely butchered the names of their imported cars -- blithely unaware of the correct pronunciation of Renault (ruh-NO) and Peugeot (puh-ZHO). We've come a long way since then, saying foreign car names like Hyundai with ease. But these days, there are a host of new designer names tripping us up, as globalization and the democratization of fashion bring brands from all over the world -- once limited to the couture cognoscenti -- to regular folk.

Most of the first French names to appear in the U.S. were a cinch, like Dior and Chanel. But a lot of the names in play today need to be spoken with a real lilt , like Jean Paul Gaultier (zhan paul GO-tee-AY), Alber Elbaz for Lanvin (al-BEAR el-BAHZ for lon-VAN), and Nicolas Ghesquière (NEE-ko-la guess-KYAIR).

Mamma mia! The Italian names can play tricks on you, too -- such as Bulgari (BOOL-ga-ree), Ungaro (OON-ga-ro), Versace (ver-SAH-chay) and Zegna (ZANE-ya). And from Spain comes the tricky Loewe (LO-ee-VAY). (To hear every last nuance of pronunciation, check out the audio tutorial at WSJ.com/Fashion.)

Even some American designers can leave you tongue-tied. Last year, Target shoppers were faced with the challenge of pronouncing Proenza Schouler (pro-EN-za SCHOOL-er), when the American duo sold a collection that included $49 bustier tops there.

Don't worry that you'll sound affected. Why not try to get it right? The more syllables, the more delicious it sounds: I just love to say the name of Swiss watch maker Vacheron Constantin (va-sha-RON con-ston-TAN).

But don't force a fashion-y flourish on American designers whose names sound just like they look: It's Ralph Lauren (rhymes with "foreign") and Donna Karan (sounds like "Karen").

Email questions to askteri@wsj.com

Printed in The Wall Street Journal, page D10

Take A Bite Of: Strawberry Mascarpone Granita

How about a little refresher for your mouth? And not the alcoholic kind. It is spring. And when it is spring in Georgia, it is hot-hot-hot. (To match the summer, when it is hot. And the fall, when it is hot.) And since you are all preparing to head into the warmer months as well, what better means to cool off than this incredibly quick and delicious cooler. Thanks Giada. And it couldn't be easier. Bon Appetit.

Strawberry Mascarpone Granita

Ingredients (for 4 - 6 servings)

1 cup water
1/2 cup sugar, plus 1 tablespoon
1/2 cup chopped fresh mint leaves
2 cups chopped strawberries, plus 1 cup finely chopped
1/2 cup mascarpone cheese
3 tablespoons lemon juice
Pinch salt

Directions
Place the water, 1/2 sugar, and mint in a small pan and bring to a simmer, stirring occasionally to help dissolve the sugar. Let simmer over low heat to steep the mint. Then strain the mint from the simple syrup. Discard the mint.

In a food processor combine 2 cups of strawberries with the remaining 1 tablespoon of sugar. Run the machine to puree the strawberries. Add the mascarpone cheese, lemon juice, and salt. Run the machine until the mascarpone cheese is fully incorporated.

Add the mint simple syrup and run the machine to combine. Place the strawberry mixture in an 8 by 8-inch glass dish and place the dish in the freezer. The mixture will take about 4 hours to freeze.

To serve, use a fork to scrape the granita. Spoon the mixture into chilled bowls. Top with the finely chopped strawberries. Serve immediately.

Oh my...

There is a quote by Robert F. Kennedy that begins "Some men see things as they are and ask why...."

I think you see some things as they are and ask why alright, as in why in the #(*&^(@ would you do that? And since, in this circumstance, I fail to produce a sound reason on my own accord, perhaps you have some insight to share....




Next time I think I have produced a less than stellar idea, I will simply look at this photo and think WHAT A GENIUS I am. Why? Because virtually any idea I concoct will go on a roster of greatness compared to the person who thought it wise to dip their animal in a vat of chemical coloring in order to create this work of "art".

The Vineyard Poodle? You are kidding me? Outre canine culture is an understatement. I now see that there is a contest for hideousness.

For fun, I tried to imagine the persona of an owner that would get this light bulb above the head. Would we have a lot to talk about over cocktails? Maybe not. Not only did you get the idea to do this, but were also steadfast enough that no sensible person could talk discourage you? Where was anyone with common sense? Did friends offer to hold the pooch so someone could use their shears with delicate precision to make the fur into tufts resembling grapes? What rotten friends you have.


I hope this poor puppy dog lifts a leg on all of your heirlooms.

UnHappy Hour

Not everyone enjoys the cocktails, but I know multitudinous people that do. And that statement is not criticism, its fact. I am not talking benders, I am referring to a beer, some vino, maybe a G&T. Social drinking, its not a demerit. Nor does it require admission to a 12 step as most of these people can handle their business. Its the over-zealous drinkers that are hapless.

There is a world of difference between the "Good Time Charlie" and the wanton GlenFiddich tornado. I am sure many of you can nod in agreement. And I also think there is a permanent list of situations or occasions you should not overly imbibe. Let's start at the top of the list. Wouldn't work functions be number one? I do believe so. Too much consumption with coworkers equals unhappy hour. Let's review.

Have I been overserved? Undoubtedly. I like to think those episodes have long since tapered off since I am not 25 anymore. And now with a little one who crows like a rooster every morning at 7 am, I am very careful. JohnnyMac learned early on, babies don't care what time you go to bed because they wake up at the same time every day, and they had a full night of sleep. I might of lost my bearings one night at the Bruce Springsteen concert, and my liver being so unaccustom to martinis at that time gave strong pushback when I downed the third one. I paid for it. Trust me.

But there is still that slight margin of people who must think if they attend an event where alcohol is served, that is all the persuasion they need to consume the alcohol. Work function? Who cares! There is alcohol isn't there?

I am no angel but I do think if you can not refrain from quenching all your thirst at football games, world series, poker tournaments, and boys or girls night out, then at the minimum, easy does it at your work function where I assure you, all of your co-workers are not swilling them down like Frank the Tank.

For me, spring ushers in a new round of work-related charity galas, and summer will soon be here accompanied by numerous fun summer time work functions. I know the wave of holiday parties have come and gone, but these tips will help all year long. I worked with someone once who literally ordered cocktails at lunch meetings. Ummm, isnt that your boss sitting three chairs down? Easy John Goodman. He didnt last long but boy, we had some funny stories with him as the star. I also worked with a woman who was guar-an-teed to go on a bender at any work function that rolled past eight p.m. Once, she knocked an entire tray of cocktails from a server's arms as she slurred and slobbered on one of our executives. Produce big results during the day must allot some shenanigans at night but for the average bear, sloppy times with people you work with are never a great investment. So in honor of those characters, I am going to share an old but treasured list of suggestions, that I have updated a bit. And you can share as needed.

Tips for the Moderation Challenged: Avoiding Unhappy Hour

10. Once your hose or tights have a big "Easy Access" hole in the upper thigh, or a tear of any kind, just take them off already. You're not fooling anyone there, classy. And for the sake of Baby Jesus, if your take off your shoes because your feet hurt too much for you to properly dance the Macarena. Take your self home. First, barefoot is not nice unless your company function is literally on a beach. And honey, we stopped doing the Macarena years ago.

9. The CEO of your company does NOT want to know how YOU think things are REALLY going. Guess what? If anyone really cared,YOU would be CEO. So just move along.

8. Eat all of the food you are offered throughout the evening. It works. I don't know why, but it does. Choose not to look that particular gift horse in the mouth. Just stick to the nibbles and be grateful. One plate at a time, you aren't going into hibernation for the Winter. And maybe dab up some of that cocktail bonanza with a piece or two of bread. I know you are carb conscious but this is a good time to advise, unless that is seared tuna in that martini glass, you are not consuming pure protein anyway. Oh, and while you negate their caloric value because they are "empty calories", umm, all that "emptiness" will be filled by the double cheeseburger you will demand on the way home.

7. Arrive at the party assuming you are going to be put in a cab and sent home. Translation, know your address, or at least have it written down somewhere on your person. And by all means, hang on to some cab fare. Oh, and try not to remove any flowers or decor to take home to give your living room a spruce as you exit.

6. Nothing says class like a woman double fisting Bud from the bottle. Use a cup, and try an import just this once. And please, do not order white zinfandel. You don't want to wake up to that again tomorrow.

5. If your party is open bar all evening long, and you feel you've hit "BONANZA", pace yourself, or you'll be pissed in the morning when you realize you were sent home in time to watch an old rerun of That 70's Show. If your party is open bar only for an hour, offer to help "organize" so you can get there early and have "samples". If your party is cash bar only, consider quitting now. It's early Spring. You can get a new job at a company that will at least pickup the bar tab for a few hours.

4. Just because you can't see others while you're hooking up with your intern on the dance floor doesn't mean others can not see YOU. Hands to self, sugar plum. And by all mean, if any part of your anatomy that is covered by a bathing suit presents itself, turn in that resignation on Monday. You will never live it down.

3. If you've fallen down more than once, and you still want to maintain gainful employment, thanks for playing, we have some nice parting gifts for you. Au revoir. Remove yourself before someone has to check you in to the emergency room. If you are gracious enough to merely stumble, quickly look at the floor and warn everyone of the "water spill."

2. Your body, especially your hands, do not belong anywhere within 6 inches of your boss's body. Not for any reason, period. If you find your idle hands in need of something to do, fill them with a cocktail. I realize this might be your first time at the school dance, but most companies have a nonconsensual relationship for a reason.

and finally...

1. Stay a drink or two behind anyone you really don't like. Better yet, give them shots. Think of the hours of fun and excitement you will have discussing what a drunken fool they were at the party the next day.

JennyMac's Restaurant Retrospect: Serpas True Food

I love it when I find a pot of gold in this city, and thanks to my husband's navigation, Friday night was a treasure hunt that did not fall short.  

Pre-baby, JohnnyMac and I dined out four or more times per week. Atlanta is a great city offering a vast sampling of culinary delights and cultural cuisine. We like great food experiences. Our preference would be "solid" over merely "new and hip" and we are adverse to simple passing trends. 

Since our schedule has changed magnificently since we had a baby, all the more reason to make it count when we do dine out. Overall, we like the total dining package of great food, interesting presentation (and some eclectic food pairings), great wine list, great service, and a stylish place to sit and take it all in. Verbal buzz in this city can be as influential in this town as the most well crafted marketing campaign. I love it when I can share great information, and after dining at Serpas on Friday night, I have great news to share. 

Serpas True Food, the eponymous effort of Scott Serpas, a Louisiana native, sits in the Old Fourth Ward of Atlanta. I neglected to read a single review prior to our initial visit. Good for me. I wanted to take it all in and decide for myself.  

We met Scott Serpas years ago when he was the head chef at Two Urban Licks, another well known and popular Atlanta restaurant. We met him because he was walking throughout the tables greeting patrons and engaging them in discussions relevant to the restaurant. Other chefs do this, I know. But Scott Serpas was natural, outgoing and totally in his element. We had a great conversation with him about that evening's specials and his cultural Louisiana influence on the food.. He still visits patrons and tables as we witnessed Friday night, and it is a nice reflection of his new place.

Housed in an old cotton storage factory, the restaurant is less about surface impression and more about making you feel right at home. Exposed brick, filled with cool decor including a huge wall covering of cotton blossoms, creates a very relaxed vibe which you may not always perceive when a new restaurant opens. Atlanta can tend to be heavy on trends and some new joints focus on glitz rather than staying power. Hence why certain addresses have housed more than four or five restaurants in the past ten years.

As you enter the restaurant, a cozy bar sits to the right. Excellent choices for cocktails including one that will be my new summer love affair. Our bartender, Johnny, is both a culinary school graduate and certified mixologist. I asked him how to make Margarita mixer from scratch and he gave me a quick science experiment. He has multiple "recipes" on the bar menu and was happy to share knowledge about composition and chemistry..

Once seated, the first order of business was the Tuna Tartare. We are big fans of Tuna Tartare and order in often, comparing and contrasting our choices. This version, served with chile sesame dressing, brunoise cut green apples, with an accompaniment of house potato chips (with what I believe is a sprinkling of cayenne) is excellent. The house chips were a unique way of serving the dish and it worked seamlessly. We ordered the Pasta Jambalaya with a huge pile of duck, andouille, chicken and shrimp. It required some heavy lifting, and my husband rose to the job. I ordered chicken stuffed with spinach and goat cheese with basil whipped potatoes on the side.. Beautiful and I loved the side dish enough to try to replicate at home.

And the service is top notch. I have now read a few reviews about the restaurant and one recurring theme is the servers are all "very young" and "eager". Those comments made me think of girl scout troops earning their service industry badge. Our server, Barrett, was totally versed on the menu, laid back but attentive and totally comfortable steering us when we needed it as we asked for recommendations. We appreciate servers who actually know the food and give honest recommendations. It earns respect and the patrons always know when fabricated answers are provided. Every other server we saw or interacted with were friendly, professional and seemed to radiate that at ease but put-together atmosphere. This experience proved "True Food" does not have to be pretentious.And this version of "True Food" is a great choice to add to your list whether you are an Atlanta native or just visiting.

Take A Bite Of: Souffled Pumpkin Pancake

Some real southern comfort. I went to a lunch honoring Paula Deen yesterday, and got to meet and chat with this Food Network star. To be candid, I have just not gotten cozy with Southern Cooking during my tenure in the south. But I recently finished Paula Deen's memoir, "It Ain't all about the Cookin' " and she has overcome a great deal to be sitting where she is today. And at 60+, she is a pistol with a very sassy wit (and vocab). Love it!

That same day, a friend emailed me requesting recipes for brunch this weekend. For everyone celebrating, Easter or otherwise, if you want something special, put this on your table. Katie Lee Joel did a guest spot on one of Paula's shows and this was the recipe du jour. It is the first recipe from the show I have ever made, and I loved it. (Plus, it didnt have the typical 1 stick of butter requisite!)

A light and airy bite of delicious. You may think pumpkin is merely an end of the year holiday staple, but this blend is just right for a springtime brunch. I served it a brunch recently and it was a hit. I skipped the pecans and it didn't reduce the effect at all. Buon Appetito.


Souffled Pumpkin Pancake

Ingredients
5 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1/4 cup pecan halves
2/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
1/3 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
4 eggs, separated
2/3 cup buttermilk
1 1/4 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup pumpkin puree
Confectioners' sugar, for dusting
Maple syrup, for serving

Directions
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Melt 2 tablespoons butter in a 10-inch skillet over medium-low heat. Add the brown sugar and stir until the sugar begins to melt. Add the pecans and cook for 2 more minutes. Transfer the pecan mixture to a small dish and set aside. Reserve the skillet for the pancake.

In a small bowl mix together the flour, pumpkin pie spice, sugar and salt. Set aside.

Melt the remaining 3 tablespoons of butter. In a large bowl, add egg yolks, buttermilk, vanilla and melted butter and whisk until blended. Gradually whisk in flour mixture. Stir in the pumpkin puree.

Beat the egg whites until soft peaks form and gently fold into the pumpkin mixture.

Gently spoon the batter into the reserved skillet. Sprinkle the top of the pancake mixture with the reserved pecan mixture. Bake for 20 to 30 minutes or until golden brown.

Dust the pancake with confectioners' sugar. Cut into wedges and serve with maple syrup.

If you like pina coladas

My favorite line of that song is actually "come with me and escape" not just because its the best line but because it has been a long long time since I even had a pina colada, and I'm going to pass on getting busy in any dunes in the Cape. Come with me and escape, well, that line conjures up pretty thoughts and great memories of vacations gone by.

Oh, the art of vacation.

This picture is taken from our shoreline patio in Anguilla. I had never been to Anguilla but leave it to JohnnyMac to show me the ways of the world. Early in our courtship, JohnnyMac wanted to go on vacation together. Vacation? I am in. The year prior to meeting him I took eight weeks of vacation. Oh....times were different then. He said he wanted to go to St. Maarten, where he has a rental. Great. What will we do I ask. "Nothing," he replied with a look of delight. And for the most part, he meant it. His dream vacation involves beach time, pool time, nap time, light lunch time while enjoying pool time, sipping on beverage time, dinner time, and more sipping on beverage time. No sights to see, no hustle, no shopping. This does sound like a great vacation. For part of the time.

At that time, I was a New Year's in NYC, weekends in Chicago, Mardi Gras, Bastille Day in France, World Cup finals in Prague type of vacationer. I have been to Hawaii but spent less than 50% of my time on the beach. I wanted to drive a jeep up a mountain, dive into seven pools, swim under waterfalls. The beach? Well, who doesn't love the beach but there must be things to do.

Vacations are interesting because the word means something different to everyone. Think about your favorite vacation. What components give it the sacred status as "Best"? Sometimes its location, parties involved, or uniqueness of experience. Or maybe a combination of all of those elements.

And when JohnnyMac told me we did not even need to take our cell phones because there is no international service, I think I got agida on the spot. I took a deep breath and pondered, do I tell him now or let him discover in time I might actually lack the chemical make up for sitting on a beach for seven days with no tasks at hand except eating, drinking, and reading. For our impending "relaxing" vacation, I did gently broach the subject that I might need a little more to do. JohnnyMac laughed and said there would be plenty to do.
As it turned out, there was plenty to do. Plenty that involved eating, drinking, and reading. And plenty of activities that included lounging, relaxing, and resting. We did zip over to St. Bart's one day and did some great shopping but a miracle of all things occurred. I actually enjoyed it. The art of vacation...who knew? JohnnyMac's preference is to be on vacation and have zero cell phone service and no one needing to call or be called. I can't say I am ready to cut that cord yet but after several days in Anguilla, I barely wanted to traipse down the beach to the incredible restaurant on property. Since we had already been to NYC together, I realized quickly that NYC and all its glorious chaos was not exactly JohnnyMac's dream vacation but ahh, compromise. It applies to vacations too. And since these locations are so different, you can't really compare NYC to Anguilla, but if you did, sorry NYC.

And our next round of vacations grew to take on a pattern. Weekends in busy cities, weeks in sandy beach areas. And now, many many vacations together later, I look forward to the low key wind down time. Maybe I just didn't need it before the same way I need it now. We are going back to Cabo in May and I can hardly wait...to do nothing. Although last time I was there, there may have been an incident involving dancing on a catwalk while the house band played "You Really Got Me". When one hears one of their favorite songs, what is one to do but get up on a catwalk and dance?

Cabo is a fantastic trip. This is the view from the restaurant at Esperanza in Cabo. The picture alone invokes deep, peaceful breathing.


But I am also planning a girls weekend in NYC so I haven't completely lost the edge. And with my recent post on Weekend Wanderlust in NYC with all of Jamie's great suggestions, how can I not.

One for every day of the week: Books

I love to read. And I have loved it since way back in the day at Machias Elementary when I won a little ribbon for reading the most books in fourth grade. Oh, I sense you are tempted to make some nerd comments. Watch it, there is no nerd about it.

I come from a family of avid readers. And before I get all preachy about the enormous scholastic benefits on your life gained from reading, lets just say, its a habit I am glad I have.

And because I am an avid reader, I have come across some really, really great books. These books range from stories about love to stories about choices. Some are gritty, some are emotionally provocative, but all will engage you. Here are some titles (and reviews from amazon.com) I want to share. One for every day of the week.

Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marques
While delivering a message to her father, Florentino Ariza spots the barely pubescent Fermina Daza and immediately falls in love. What follows is the story of a passion that extends over 50 years, as Fermina is courted solely by letter, decisively rejects her suitor when he first speaks, and then joins the urbane Dr. Juvenal Urbino, much above her station, in a marriage initially loveless but ultimately remarkable in its strength. Florentino remains faithful in his fashion; paralleling the tale of the marriage is that of his numerous liaisons, all ultimately without the depth of love he again declares at Urbino's death. In substance and style not as fantastical, as mythologizing, as the previous works, this is a compelling exploration of the myths we make of love.

Bastard out of Carolina by Dorothy Allison
Set in the rural South, this tale centers around the Boatwright family, a proud and closeknit clan known for their drinking, fighting, and womanizing. Nicknamed Bone by her Uncle Earle, Ruth Anne is the bastard child of Anney Boatwright, who has fought tirelessly to legitimize her child. When she marries Glen, a man from a good family, it appears that her prayers have been answered. However, Anney suffers a miscarriage and Glen begins drifting. He develops a contentious relationship with Bone and then begins taking sexual liberties with her. Embarrassed and unwilling to report these unwanted advances, Bone bottles them up and acts out her confusion and shame. Unaware of her husband's abusive behavior, Anney stands by her man. Eventually, a violent encounter wrests Bone away from her stepfather. In this first novel, Allison creates a rich sense of family and portrays the psychology of a sexually abused child with sensitivity and insight.

Dive from Clausen's Pier by Ann Packer
Carrie Bell is the worst person in the world. Or so she would have you think. In the gripping, carefully paced debut novel of personal epiphany, The Dive from Clausen's Pier, by O. Henry Award winner Ann Packer, Carrie's very survival is dependent upon her leaving her fiancé, even after he dives into shallow water at a Memorial Day picnic and becomes paralyzed. Things hadn't been going so well for the Madison, Wisconsin, high school and college sweethearts. Carrie knew, deep down, that she wasn't going to become Mrs. Michael Mayer. But expectations and pressure from all sides--his family, her mother, her best friend Jamie, Mike's best friend Rooster--force Carrie to shut herself up in her room and sew outfits of her own design as if in a trance. Then one night she slips out of the only universe she's ever known. Many hours later she finds herself on the doorstep of a high school classmate living in Manhattan. Carrie's adventures in the city--quirky roommates and a new romance with an older, emotionally impenetrable man--confuse her in her quest both to forgive herself and to embark on a career in fashion design. Packer writes in a convincing voice and packs a lot into this novel; she infuses Carrie with enough humanity and smarts to choose her own version of "happily ever after."

The Painted House by John Grisham
Ever since he published The Firm in 1991, John Grisham has remained the undisputed champ of the legal thriller. With A Painted House, however, he strikes out in a new direction. As the author is quick to note, this novel includes "not a single lawyer, dead or alive," and readers will search in vain for the kind of lowlife machinations that have been his stock-in-trade. Instead, Grisham has delivered a quieter, more contemplative story, set in rural Arkansas in 1952. It's harvest time on the Chandler farm, and the family has hired a crew of migrant Mexicans and "hill people" to pick 80 acres of cotton. A certain camaraderie pervades this bucolic dream team. But it's backbreaking work, particularly for the 7-year-old narrator, Luke: "I would pick cotton, tearing the fluffy bolls from the stalks at a steady pace, stuffing them into the heavy sack, afraid to look down the row and be reminded of how endless it was, afraid to slow down because someone would notice."

Loving Frank by Nancy Horan
It's a rare treasure to find a historically imagined novel that is at once fully versed in the facts and unafraid of weaving those truths into a story that dares to explore the unanswered questions. Frank Lloyd Wright and Mamah Cheney's love story is--as many early reviews of Loving Frank have noted--little-known and often dismissed as scandal. In Nancy Horan's skillful hands, however, what you get is two fully realized people, entirely, irrepressibly, in love. Together, Frank and Mamah are a wholly modern portrait, and while you can easily imagine them in the here and now, it's their presence in the world of early 20th century America that shades how authentic and, ultimately, tragic their story is. Mamah's bright, earnest spirit is particularly tender in the context of her time and place, which afforded her little opportunity to realize the intellectual life for which she yearned. Loving Frank is a remarkable literary achievement, tenderly acute and even-handed in even the most heartbreaking moments, and an auspicious debut from a writer to watch.

Charms for an Easy Life by Kaye Gibbons
This novel depicts three generations of Southern women living together during World War II. Unworthy men marry into this formidable tribe, but they cannot break the women's circle of strength and grace. Margaret, the narrator, gently and humorously regales readers with the adventures of her grandmother, Charlie Kate, as a respectable yet unlicensed physician.

The Liars Club by Mary Karr
In this razor-edged memoir, Mary Karr, a prize-winning poet and critic, looks back at her upbringing in a swampy East Texas refinery town with a volatile, defiantly loving family. She recalls her painter mother, seven times married, whose outlaw spirit could tip into psychosis; a fist-swinging father who spun tales with his cronies--dubbed the Liars' Club. An inheritance was squandered, endless bottles emptied, and guns leveled at the deserving and undeserving. With a raw authenticity stripped of self-pity and a poet's eye for the lyrical detail, Karr shows us a "interesting family of liars and drunks ... redeemed by a slow unearthing of truth."