TAMARA NATASHA SPENC
Ladies and gentlemen, Martha Stewart has left the building; actually, she's left the planet!
This icon of craftiness has recently released a book, 'Martha Stewart's Christmas,' so outrageously domestic and inane. The feminist within me cries for womankind to be liberated from the nonsensical drivel she discusses in her new guide to entertaining and decorating.
Filled with glossy photos of her 19th century home in Westport, Conn., decorated with antique artifacts and flamboyant European pieces, such as a gold-gilded, renaissance-style mirror in her dining room, the lower echelons of society need not look to 'Martha Stewart's Christmas' for tips on inviting the quiet, humbling nature of Christmas into their home.
However, for those of you looking to fine tune your pretentious and ostentatious, decorating, cooking and gift giving ideas, look no further, 'Martha Stewart's Christmas' can serve as your one-stop guide.
The reader is first bombarded with self-glorifying stories of how Stewart, with the help of just one serf, oh I mean helper, made 300 puddings in less than three days. This was made possible by the remarkable oven-cooking method Stewart invented in which she could bake 32 puddings every six hours.
Stewart then tells of the garden club lectures on potpourris that she attended when she first moved to the posh and quite exclusive neighborhood of Westport. Instructions are then given on making pomanders, nut trees and spice balls.
If you don't know what these are don't be alarmed. These are just plastic foam spheres onto which chestnuts, walnuts, almonds, pecans or berries are glued. As you have probably realized by now, these nut-balls serve absolutely no purpose.
Stewart, however, was quite enamored with her new invention and displayed them on a 19th century Amish silk coverlet. After the photographer immortalized these spherical oddities, Stewart gave them away as Christmas gifts!
After her section on nut-balls, Stewart outdoes herself with a chapter on conserves and condiments. Translated this simply means jelly. However, you wont find any typical recipes here. Absent are the traditional peach, raspberry, grape or blackberry jam.
In their stead are instructions on how to make quince jelly, hopi corn jam, purple basil jelly, spiced seckel pears and pear chutney, just to name a few. Stewart, considerate of the plight of vegetarians everywhere, even lists a yummy recipe for no-meat mincemeat jam:
3 quarts chopped green tomatoes
2 tablespoon coarse salt
2 oranges
2 lemons
1 quart slightly under ripe pears, peeled, cored, and diced
2 cups dark raisins
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground allspice
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 cup finely chopped fresh ginger
1/2 cup frozen apple-juice concentrate
1 pound light brown sugar
3/4 cup cognac (omit if BYU student)
Mix the green tomatoes and salt. Place in a colander and allow to drain overnight. Using a citrus stripper, remove the bright colored skin from the oranges and lemons and reserve.
With a sharp knife, cut away the white pith and discard. Chop the pulp coarsely. Combine the tomatoes, citrus peel and pulp with the remaining ingredients except cognac. Combine in a heavy noncorroding saucepan and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, for about 2 hours, stirring frequently to prevent sticking.
Stir cognac into mincemeat, ladle into hot, sterilized canning jars and seal.
Now that the reader knows how to make no-meat mincemeat jam Stewart directs her attention to making gift baskets.
Among her numerous ideas for gift baskets, especially comical are the contents of her Zacki's Southern Heritage Basket. The basket is filled with obscure creations and knickknacks Stewart doesn't even bother to tell the reader where they can purchase or make the things included in the basket.
Zacki's Southern Heritage Basket contains a Moravian cookie cutter, herb-log fire starters, boiled peanuts, potted cheese, Moravian molasses cookies, New Year's hoppin' John, sour cream cake, purple basil jelly and Zacki's own potpourri.
Skipping several chapters ahead, we are introduced to the surreal world of Martha Stewart, where gingerbread houses become gingerbread mansions. Stewart relives for the reader her epic journey that led her from making mere mortal gingerbread houses to huge, showy, vanity-driven gingerbread houses.
Stewart basks in the fact that she's made large, elaborate gingerbread houses in the shape of country cottages and town houses. You can almost see her squeal with delight when she discusses how she made one house in the shape of a Viennese baroque church for the family of Ronald Lauder, America's ambassador to Austria.
For her book, 'Martha Stewart's Christmas,' Stewart made a life-size gingerbread house modeled after her Turkey Hill Federal farmhouse. Topped with a gold-leaf roof, Stewart's gingerbread house will surely be recreated by housewives across the country with an enormous amount of time and money on hand.
A mocking depiction of what Christmas truly means, 'Martha Stewart's Christmas' would be appreciated by those more interested in the glitz and glimmer of this holiday season rather than the humbling spirit of Christmas.