25,000 mornings by Fay Rowe

Fay Rowe is the author of Keepers of the Testimony and Smooth Stones & Promises.  She is also the author of 25,000 Mornings, her first devotional.  It is subtitled Wisdom for a Modern Life and she wants to bring little tidbits of wisdom in to our every day lives.

She brings the Word with at times a little bit of humor and lots of real life.  She wants to share the encouragement she has received by spending time in God‘s word with others.  She also desires to use the Word to challenge others as she has been challenged and is being challenged.

Since it is a devotional book it is not designed to sit and read all at once. I did read it at a faster pace than the average person simply because I was reviewing it.

I love the front cover graphic, since I read it on my nook tablet I can’t speak to the back cover. Each days devotional can be easily read in about ten minutes.

“In a relaxed, chat-over-coffee style, award-winning author of Keepers of the Testimony and Smooth Stones & Promises Fay Rowe’s third book and first devotional, 25,000 Mornings, offers up daily portions of ancient, Biblical wisdom as it encourages, challenges and sometimes amuses. In her first devotional, Fay Rowe writes for both the young and young-at-heart on varied subjects such as: starting out and starting over; believing words; resting on the rock; talking to God; never giving up; being yourself and living with people; and clocks and calendars.”

Most of the devotionals are great. But. And you knew there was going to be a “But” didn’t you? I am sensitive to leaders, authors, pastors etc, who take the Word of God and say that it says something it does not say.  I found some instances of that very thing in this book.

It might seem small to others, but to me it’s a huge thing and based on that alone, I can not recommend this book.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze®.com <http://BookSneeze®.com> book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 <http://www.access.gpo.gov/nara/cfr/waisidx_03/16cfr255_03.html> : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

The Mustard Seeds Part. 2

You can find my 12-year old’s review here.

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today’s Wild Card author is:
and the book:
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (August 26, 2012)
***Special thanks to Karen Mueller Bryson for sending me a review copy.***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Dr. Karen Mueller Bryson is an award-winning/optioned screenwriter, produced playwright and published novelist. Karen has been writing since she learned to read and fell in love with books! When she’s not at her computer creating new stories, Karen enjoys spending time with her husband and their bloodhounds. Karen is the founder of Short on Time Books, fast-paced and fun novels for readers on the go. Karen is also an Associate Professor of Psychology and Human Services at Ottawa University.
Visit the author’s website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

After his mom’s sudden death, Elliot White, a 16-year old musical savant with Asperger’s Syndrome, is forced to leave his performing arts high school in New York City when he relocates to Winslow, Arizona to live with his eccentric aunt, and must attend a school with no music program.

Product Details:

List Price: $6.95

Paperback: 128 pages

Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (August 26, 2012)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 1478189746

ISBN-13: 978-1478189749

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Sixteen-year-old Elliot White wriggles in an ill-fitting black suit and adjusts Buddy Holly-like glasses as he stares at a sign in front of him. It reads: Discount Funerals (Includes Free Lunch Buffet). Although it should be a somber occasion, all he can think about is his recital later in the afternoon. He finally gets to play the solo piece he has been painstakingly practicing for months. Why did his mom have to die right before his big show?
Elliot’s aunt, 38-year-old Amaryllis Long, adjusts the straps of her black sundress then straightens the substantial crucifix around her neck. She’s not sure she’s ready to bury her only sister—her only sibling. Now she is truly alone in the world. Well, except for Elliot. Amaryllis takes a deep breath, then grabs her nephew by the arm in an effort to lead him into the shabby funeral home.
Elliot flinches as soon as Amaryllis touches him. Touching is not something he prefers to engage in. The act feels painful and foreign. He avoids it whenever possible. It’s one of the many things he avoids because they overwhelm his delicate sensory system.
Inside the funeral home, Elliot and Amaryllis take seats in two of the few folding chairs in the back of the small room. They both stare silently at the closed pine casket, which takes up most of the front part of the room. Finally, Elliot clears his throat. “I have to get back to school in one hour. I have a solo in the spring musical extravaganza.” 
“Your mother always did have awful timing,” Amaryllis replies.
♫♪♫
A short time later, Amaryllis and Elliot make their way into the auditorium of his elite performing arts high school. It’s one of the best in New York City. Amaryllis feels very out of place amongst the instrument-toting teens and their well-dressed parents. She hasn’t stepped foot in a high school since her own graduation twenty years ago. And she certainly doesn’t make many trips out of the Arizona desert.
Amaryllis takes a seat in the packed audience and listens contently as the orchestra plays a rousing medley of classical favorites. In the middle of the final piece, Elliot, still in his funeral attire, stands and plays a stunning solo on his viola. She is amazed at the talent of her own flesh and blood. Although she hasn’t seen him in at least 10 years, her only nephew holds a special place in her heart. And now that her sister’s gone, Amaryllis will be his guardian and caretaker. She shudders slightly at the thought. What does she know about raising children? Or raising any living thing, for that matter. She can’t even keep a houseplant alive.
At the conclusion of Elliot’s solo, the audience erupts in applause and gives the young musician a standing ovation. Elliot simply bows and takes his seat with the rest of the orchestra.
Once the performance is over, there was a small reception for Elliot in the school’s foyer. Elliot finds himself standing awkwardly under a sign, which reads: Farewell, Elliot, We Will Miss You. Next to Elliot is a small folding table with a punch bowl, papers cups and a small tray of butter cookies. Mr. Grubb, the school’s portly orchestra director, stands on the far side of the table, rubbing sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. Both Mr. Grubb and Elliot wait patiently for well-wishers but none are forthcoming. Finally, a little boy with a red Kool-Aid mustache runs up to the table and giggles. He snatches several cookies, shoves them into his mouth and dashes away. Mr. Grubb holds out some hope when a group of teens carrying instruments approaches and it looks like they might stop at the table, but the kids continue down the hallway laughing amongst themselves.
Mr. Grubb glances over at Elliot, who was now picking lint from his suit jacket. “We’ll certainly miss you,” he says warmly.
“I know,” Elliot responds without making eye contact.
♫♪♫
The next morning, Amaryllis and Elliot, each carrying several packing boxes, approach a shabby-looking brownstone row house with a FOR RENT sign in the front window.
When they enter the home, Amaryllis is shocked to find the living room in complete disarray. She was not aware of the extent of her sister, Iris’s, mental illness or the fact that she dealt with major depressive episodes for most of Elliot’s life. When Iris got depressed, she holed herself up in her bedroom, sometimes for days at a time, and Elliot was forced to fend for himself.
“You can pack whatever’ll fit in these boxes,” Amaryllis says matter-of-factly. “The rest’ll have to go to Goodwill. The landlord, bless his soul, said he’d get some friends from church to help him clear the place out.”
Elliot merely grunts in response and heads into his bedroom. Amaryllis follows her nephew into his room, which she’s surprised to see is immaculate. It’s a bit of out of place compared to the chaos of the rest of the house.
Elliot immediately opens his desk drawer and fills the first box with sheet music that packs the bottom drawer.
“What is all that?” she asks.
“My music,” he says and snorts.
Amaryllis raises an eyebrow.
Elliot continues, “I have to have my music.”
She watches curiously as he moves to his bookshelf, removes a miniature viola and carefully places it in his second box. She opens the small closet next to her and notes the few shirts and pants hanging there. “Don’t you think we should pack these clothes?”
Elliot snorts in response. He grabs a framed photo of his mother and him and stares at it for a moment.
“She’s in a better place,” Amaryllis says as she glances at the photo.
Elliot grunts again, then places the photo in his box.
On their way out of the house, a book lying on the sofa catches Amaryllis’s eye. It’s titled Asperger’s Disorder: A Beginner’s Guide. She grabs the copy as they head out the door.
♫♪♫
 They carry filled boxes toward her beater pick-up and load them in the truck’s cab. Amaryllis gets into the driver’s side and Elliot hops into the passenger’s seat. He places a black urn containing his mother’s ashes in his lap and the two began their trip across the country.
“So, what did my sister tell you about me?” Amaryllis asks, trying to make conversation.
“My mother? She never said a word about you,” he replies.
“No surprise there.”
After an awkward moment of silence passes, she says, “Your mother mentioned something about Asperger’s Syndrome.”
Elliot snorts in response.
“Is there anything I should be aware of?” Amaryllis knows even less about the disorder than she does about raising teenagers.
Elliot tugs nervously on his earlobe then says, “I’m not like everyone else.”
Amaryllis shrugs. “Neither am I.”
“Aspies’ brains are wired differently. We think differently than neurotypicals.”
“Neurotypicals?”
“That’s everyone who’s not on the autism spectrum. Which are most people.”
Amaryllis nods. She certainly understands what it feels like to not be like other people. Since she finally has Elliot talking, she tries another question. “Arizona should be quite an adventure for you.”
“I don’t like adventures,” Elliot replies flatly. He turns and looks out the window as the big open country passes by.
Amaryllis realizes the moment has passed and the conversation is now over.
♫♪♫
It takes several days, but the pair finally makes it to the Arizona border. Amaryllis gives a little hoot as her pick-up rambles past a sign that reads: Arizona – The Grand Canyon State. As they drive through the barren land of northern Arizona, Elliot watches as a lone tumbleweed blows by. His first time out of New York is not yet proving to be eventful.
“We should be in Winslow in no time,” Amaryllis says, breaking the silence that has lasted since Colorado.
“Everything looks dead,” Elliot notes.
She chuckles. “Welcome to Arizona.”
♫♪♫
As Amaryllis’s truck rambles down Second Street, she breathes a sigh of relief that they are finally back home. The tired old town of Winslow has seen better days, but its familiarity is a welcome site. As they drive past the ‘Standin’ on a Corner in Winslow, Arizona’ site made famous by the Eagles, a haggard man with a collie walks by a life-sized male statue marking the place for tourists.
“There it is,” Amaryllis says as she gazes out the window. “The famous corner.”
When Elliot looks out the window, he sees the haggard man’s collie lift his leg on the statue. Elliot looks puzzled. “What’s so famous about that corner?”
“I guess you’ve never heard of the Eagles.”
“The birds of prey?”
“The rock band,” Amaryllis replies, immediately feeling older. “Standin’ on the corner in Winslow, Arizona. That doesn’t sound familiar to you?”
Elliot shakes his head.
“And you say you’re a musician,” she teases.
Elliot remains stoic and Amaryllis wonders if he is able to take a joke.
♫♪♫
About ten miles out of town, Amaryllis pulls into the Desert Dream Trailer Park. Seven well-worn double-wides mark the otherwise desolate landscape. One of the double-wides also serves as a make-shift office. A sign over it reads: Welcome to your Desert Dream.
She pulls her truck up to her trailer and they hop out. They both take a much-needed stretch after the long ride.
“We made it,” Amaryllis says.
♫♪♫
Elliot just stares at the sight of his new home. It’s a big step down from his mother’s row house.
“I know it doesn’t look like much, but it’s paid for,” she says. “We best get your stuff unpacked before nightfall.”
Inside, Elliot glances at the well-worn furniture. He notices religious iconography surrounding the room’s centerpiece—a massive velvet Jesus painting. Even though his mother never took him to church, he loves to read about the world’s major religions.
Amaryllis points to a small room off of the living area. “That’ll be your room. Used to be my sewing room.”
“Where will you sew?” Elliot asks.
“Austin’s got some space for me.”
He looks puzzled. “Austin is one thousand twenty miles from here.”
She gives her nephew a huge grin. “Nope, right next door.”
As if on cue, 45-year-old Austin Young, a burnt-out hippie, enters the double-wide. “Did someone mention my name?”
Amaryllis leans over to Elliot conspiratorially and says, “The walls have ears. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Elliot quickly glances around the small room looking for signs of ears on the walls. How could a wall have ears, he wonders? So far, Arizona is an extremely confusing place for him.
Austin puts out a hand for Elliot to shake, but the young man seems oblivious to the gesture and does not reciprocate. He tugs on his earlobe instead.
Austin tries another tactic. “How was your trip?” he asks.
When he doesn’t respond, Amaryllis pipes in, “Tiring. Elliot must be exhausted.”
“I’m not tired,” Elliot interjects a little too loudly. “I slept for 22 of the 35 hours we traveled and I slept in both of the motels in which we stayed. Day one was a 14-hour trip with two gas breaks and a lunch break. Day two was similar. Today, we only had to travel for 7 hours.
“That’s precise,” Austin says with a smile at Elliot. Then he says to Amaryllis, “You’re welcome to come by my place for dinner. I’ll fire up the grill.”
“I think we’ll take a rain check.” She pats her friend’s arm. “Elliot has to get ready for school tomorrow.”
“Gotcha. Dinner’s an open invitation.”
“I know,” Amaryllis says, giving Austin a warm smile.
Austin heads for the door, but turns back before exiting. “I’ve got a new recipe for chipotle steak sauce. Bet it’d taste awfully good with those baby potatoes you love so much.”
“Good night, Austin,” Amaryllis says as she lovingly nudges him out the door. She smiles as the door closes behind him.

We received a free copy of this book from the author for the purpose of review.

Lucy

I often buy books because I know the author. I’m sure you do as well. You’ve read at least one book by a certain author and find more by the author, so you automatically pick up a book and dig in only to find it isn’t at all like the other books you’ve read. You find yourself disappointed.

I just experienced that. I have long been a fan of Neta Jackson. I read all of her Yada Yada series and most of them I’ve read several times. I have read her House of Hope Series too and enjoyed them just as much.

I just read her book, Lucy Come Home. It is so different from her other books. I found it hard to get into and it seemed very dark.

Lucy Come Home is the story of Lucy, the homeless lady from the House of Hope series. She is the daughter of migrant farm workers. Lucy is hired by her father’s boss to work in his store and help his wife.

But after an unfortunate turn of events, Lucy and a friend are on the run. As an older lady, alone she finds Hope House.

I have to be honest, and since this is my blog and my review, I can be. I did not care for this book. Neta Jackson’s other books, I loved. This one, not so much.

 

I received a free copy of this book from the publishers for the purpose of review.

The Accidental Bride

I just finished reading The Accidental Bride by Denise Hunter (published by Thomas Nelson). It was a cute book with the plot being a girl is jilted by her boyfriend on the courthouse steps on the day they choose to elope. Fourteen years later they are reunited and are “accidentally married”.

She can’t stand him and really treats him horribly. All, of course, in the name of protecting herself from hurt. He, of course, continually comes over and invades her life. Despite her ill treatment of him.

I won’t give away the ending. The book is cute. If you’re looking for a light, fluffy book this would fit the bill just fine.

I am a little tired of this plot line. You find it in historical fiction and any romance type novel. I would love to find a book without that plot line.

You can judge for yourself by reading the first chapter below.

(I received a free copy of this book from the publisher for the purpose of review)

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today’s Wild Card author is:
and the book:
 Thomas Nelson (January 3, 2012)

***Special thanks to
Audra Jennings – The B&B Media Group –  for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Denise lives in Indiana with her husband Kevin and their three sons. In 1996, Denise began her first book, a Christian romance novel, writing while her children napped. Two years later it was published, and she’s been writing ever since. Her books often contain a strong romantic element, and her husband Kevin says he provides all her romantic material, but Denise insists a good imagination helps too!

Visit the author’s website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Shay Brandenberger has built her entire life on the shifting sands of what others think. Constantly seeking the approval of others, she has struggled through a rocky childhood, a failed marriage and single parenthood. Now it looks like she’s losing the ranch that has been in her family for three generations, a surefire way to mark her as a failure in the eyes of the community. When Travis McCoy, the high school sweetheart who very publicly broke her heart fifteen years before, returns to Moose Creek, she is less than pleased. Not only does his re-appearance dredge up a deluge of painful memories, it also reminds everyone in town that it was he who left her, not the other way around. To make matters worse, Shay and Travis are unwittingly paired to play bride and groom in the annual Founder’s Day wedding re-enactment where, much to her chagrin, she discovers he still has the power to take her breath away. 

Product Details:

List Price: $15.99

  • Paperback: 304 pages
  • Publisher: Thomas Nelson (January 3, 2012)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 1595548025
  • ISBN-13: 978-1595548023

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

The bell above the diner’s door jingled
and—despite her most valiant effort—Shay Brandenberger’s eyes darted toward the
entry. An unfamiliar couple entered—tourists. She could tell by their khaki
Eddie Bauer vests and spanking-new hiking boots. Look out, Yellowstone.
When her heart rate returned to normal,
she checked her watch and took a sip of coffee. Five minutes till she met Miss
Lucy at the Doll House, forty till she met John Oakley at the bank. What if he
said no? What would they do then?
“Mom . . . Earth to Mom . . .” Olivia
waved her hand too close to Shay’s face, her brown eyes widening.
“Sorry, hon.” The one bright moment of
her Saturday was breakfast with her daughter, and she couldn’t enjoy it for the
dread. “What were you saying?”
Olivia set her fork on her
pancake-sticky plate and heaved a sigh worthy of her twelve-year-old self.
“Never mind.” She bounced across the vinyl bench, her thick brown ponytail
swinging. “I’m going to meet Maddy.”
“Right back here at noon,” Shay called,
but Olivia was out the door with the flick of her hand.
The diner buzzed with idle chatter.
Silverware clattered and scraped, and the savory smell of bacon and fried eggs
unsettled her stomach. She took a sip of the strong brew from the fat rim of
her mug.
The bell jingled again. I will not look. I will
not look. I will not—
The server appeared at her booth, a new
girl, and gathered Olivia’s dishes. “On the house today.”
Shay set down her mug, bristling. “Why?”
The woman shrugged. “Boss’s orders,” she
said, then made off with the dirty dishes.
From the rectangular kitchen window,
Mabel Franklin gave Shay a pointed look.
So Shay had helped the couple with their
foal the week before. It was the neighborly thing to do.
Fine. She gave a reluctant smile and a
wave. She pulled her wallet from her purse, counted out the tip, and dragged
herself from the booth, remembering her daughter’s bouncy exit. Lately her
thirty-two years pressed down on her body like a two-ton boulder.
She opened the diner’s door and peeked
both ways before exiting the Tin Roof and turning toward the Doll House. She
was only checking sidewalk traffic, not hiding. Nope, she wasn’t hiding from
anyone. The boardwalks were busy on Saturdays. That was why she hadn’t come to
town for two weeks. Why their pantry was emptier than a water trough at high
noon.
She hurried three shops down and slipped
into the cool, welcoming air of Miss Lucy’s shop.
“ ’Morning, Miss Lucy.”
“ ’Morning, dear.” The elderly woman, in
the middle of helping a customer, called over her rounded shoulder, “It’s in
the back.” Miss Lucy’s brown eyes were big as buckeyes behind her thick
glasses, and her white curls glowed under the spotlights.
“Okeydoke.” Shay forced her feet toward
the storeroom.
A musty smell assaulted her as she
entered the back room and flipped on the overhead fluorescents. She scanned the
boxes of doll parts and skeins of yarn until she found what she was looking
for. She approached the box, lifted the lid, and parted the tissue.
The wedding gown had been carefully
folded and tucked away. Shay ran her fingers over the delicate lace and pearls.
Must’ve been crisp white in its day, but time had cast a long shadow over it.
Time had a way of doing that.
Her fingers lingered on the thin fabric.
She remembered another time, another dress. A simple white one that hung on her
young shoulders, just skimmed the cement of the courthouse steps. The ache that
squeezed her heart had faded with time, but it was there all the same. Would it
ever go away?
Shaking her head, Shay turned back to
the task at hand. The gown seemed too pretty, too fragile to disturb.
Oh well. She’d promised.
She pulled it out and draped it over the
box, then shimmied from her jeans. When she was down to the bare necessities,
she stepped carefully into the gown. She eased it over her narrow hips and slid
her arms into the long sleeves. The neckline was modest, the gathered skirt
fuller than anything she ever wore. Here in the air-conditioning it was fine,
but she would swelter next Saturday.
Leaving the button-up back gaping, she
hitched the skirt to the top of her cowboy boots and entered the store.
Miss Lucy was ushering the customer out
the door. When she turned, she stopped, her old-lady shoes squeaking on the
linoleum. “Land sakes.”
Shay took two steps forward and dropped
the skirt. It fell to the floor with a whoosh.
“Fits like a glove,” Miss Lucy said.
“And with some low heels it’ll be the perfect length.”
Shay didn’t even own heels. “My boots’ll
have to do. Button the back?”
Miss Lucy waddled forward, turned Shay
toward a small wall mirror flecked with time, and began working the tiny pearl
buttons.
Shay’s breath caught at her image. She
forced its release, then frowned. Wedding gowns were bad luck. She’d sworn
she’d never wear another. If someone had told her yesterday she’d be wearing
this thing today, she’d have said they were one straw short of a bale.
Miss Lucy moved up to the buttons
between her shoulders, and Shay lifted her hair. The dress did fit, clinging to
her torso like it was made for her, wouldn’t you know. Even the color
complemented her olive skin.
Still, there was that whole bad luck
thing.
And what would everyone think of Shay
Brandenberger wearing this valuable piece of Moose Creek heritage? A white
wedding gown, no less. If she didn’t have the approval of her closest friends
and neighbors, what did she have? Not much, to her thinking.
She wanted to cut and run. Wanted to
shimmy right out of the dress, tuck it into that box in the storeroom, slip
back into her Levi’s and plaid button-up, and go back to her ranch where she
could hole up for the next six months.
She checked the time and wished Miss
Lucy had nimbler fingers. Of all days to do this, a Saturday, when everyone
with two legs was in town. And she still had that infernal meeting with John
Oakley.
Please, God, I can’t lose our home . . .
“I’m obliged to you, dear. I completely
forgot Jessie was going out of town.”
“No problem.”
“Baloney. You’d rather be knee-deep in
cow dung.” The woman’s marionette lines at the sides of her mouth deepened.
“It’s one hour of my life.” A pittance,
after all Miss Lucy had done for her.
Miss Lucy finished buttoning, and Shay
dropped her hair and smoothed the delicate lace at the cuffs.
“Well, bless you for being willing. God
is smiling down on you today for your kindness.”
Shay doubted God really cared one way or
another. It was her neighbors she worried about.
“Beautiful, just beautiful. You’ll be
the talk of the town on Founders Day.”
“No doubt.” Everyone in Moose Creek
would be thinking about the last time she’d worn a wedding gown. And the time
before that.
Especially the time before that.
Third time’s a charm, Shay thought, the corner of her lip
turning up.
“Stop fretting,” Miss Lucy said,
squeezing her shoulders. “You look quite fetching, like the gown was made for
you. I won’t have to make a single alteration. Why, it fits you better than it
ever did Jessie—don’t you tell her I said so.”
Shay tilted her head. Maybe Miss Lucy
was right. The dress did make the most of her figure. And she had as much right
to wear it as anyone. Maybe more—she was born and raised here, after all. It
was just a silly old reenactment anyway. No one cared who the bride and groom
were.
The bell jingled as the door opened
behind her. She glanced in the mirror, over her shoulder, where a hulking
silhouette filled the shop’s doorway. There was something familiar in the set
of the man’s broad shoulders, in the slow way he reached up and removed his
hat.
The sight of him constricted her rib
cage, squeezed the air from her lungs as if she were wearing a corset. But she
wasn’t wearing a corset. She was wearing a wedding gown. Just as she had been
the last time she’d set eyes on Travis McCoy.

Hey Hey, Good Lookin’,

My personal review is on its way. This is the ONE book every kitchen should have. I read Kathi Lipp‘s book, The What’s for Dinner Solution, in an afternoon.  I could NOT put it down.  (You can read a partial personal review here.)

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today’s Wild Card author is:

and the book:

The “What’s for Dinner?” Solution

Harvest House Publishers (October 1, 2011)

***Special thanks to Karri | Marketing Assistant, Harvest House Publishers for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Kathi Lipp is a busy conference and retreat speaker, currently speaking each year to thousands of women throughout the United States. She is the author of The Husband Project and The Marriage Project and has had articles published in several magazines, including Today’s Christian Woman and Discipleship Journal. Kathi and her husband, Roger, live in California and are the parents of four teenagers and young adults.

Visit the author’s website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

For many women, dread turns to panic around 4:00 in the afternoon. That’s when they have to answer that age-old question, “What’s for dinner?” Many resort to another supermarket rotisserie chicken or—worse yet—ordering dinner through a drive-thru intercom.

In The “What’s for Dinner” Solution, popular author and speaker Kathi Lipp provides a full-kitchen approach for getting dinner on the table every night. After putting her 21-day plan into action, women will

* save time—with bulk shopping and cooking
* save money—no more last-minute phone calls to the delivery pizza place
* save their sanity—forget the last-minute scramble every night and know what they’re having for dinner

The book includes real recipes from real women, a quick guide to planning meals for a month, the best shopping strategies for saving time and money, and tips on the best ways to use a slow cooker, freezer, and pantry.

With Kathi’s book in hand, there’s no more need to hit the panic button.

Product Details:

List Price: $12.99
Paperback: 208 pages
Publisher: Harvest House Publishers (October 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0736938370
ISBN-13: 978-0736938372

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Girl Meets Kitchen, or Not

Necessarily a Love Story

“Happy and successful cooking doesn’t rely only on know-how;
it comes from the heart, makes great demands on the palate and needs enthusiasm and a deep love of food to bring it to life.”

Georges Blanc, from Ma Cuisine des Saisons

I was not the kind of kid who grew up at my mom’s knee, helping her chop carrots for Sunday night’s chicken soup. I never really helped with any meal preparation, preferring to turn my attention in the kitchen to baking. There was always some social event with friends or a youth group party where I needed to bring brownies. The one memorable time I tried to make instant potatoes? Instead of the specified one-quarter tablespoon of salt, I used a quarter cup salt. That incident happened over twenty-five years ago, and I have yet to stop hearing about it from my loving and encouraging family.

Suffice to say, I was a bit ill-prepared for the cooking adventures that lay ahead as I lived on my own for the first time. And to complicate matters? My first apartment was in Uji, Japan, approximately seven thousand miles from my mother’s loving embrace and her pot-roast recipe (as if I could afford beef in Japan).

The recipe cards were stacked against me. No cooking skills to speak of, living in a foreign land where most of the time I couldn’t identify what I was eating much less figure out how it was prepared, a kitchen the size of my coat closet back home, and an oven so small it made me long for the Easy-Bake one of my childhood.

I was terrified going to the supermarket without an escort and a translator. I didn’t speak the language (as a short-term missionary teaching conversational English, speaking Japanese was actually a disadvantage in my job), and as unfamiliar as I was with food shopping in the U.S., shopping in Uji was like watching a foreign movie without subtitles and then having to write a paper on the plot.

Oh, and eating out? So not an option. While my cooking skills were limited, my food budget was near nonexistent.

A few things were easy to recognize. The bread in Japan was amazing. It was buttery and flaky and perfect. And there was some really lovely cheese and ham. So, for the first three months of exploring this exotic new culture, I ate ham and cheese sandwiches every single night for dinner.

As I started to get to know some of my students and coworkers better, I had this urge to invite them over to hang out with me. But I had a sneaking suspicion they would want to be fed. I knew that my students would love some authentic American dishes. The question was, Who would I get to cook them?

Another short-term missionary, Diana, had a cookbook called More-With-Less. This wonderful little book produced by the Mennonite community had tons of recipes that used simple ingredients most cooks would have in their kitchen. While I didn’t have a lot of pantry staples in my four-story walk-up, I was now armed with a grocery list as well as an English-to-Japanese dictionary for my trips to the store.

I started to look for simple things I could make: salads, sandwiches, curries, and mini-pizzas out of English muffins and ketchup. (I promise, my culinary skills and taste have gotten better over the years.) As I grew braver in all things cuisine, I started to ask my mom to send some of my favorite recipes from back home.

In fact, when I threw a Christmas celebration with my friend Spenser in my micro-sized apartment, we managed to make a fondue-potless version of my mom’s Pizza Fondue. Shopping for the ingredients proved challenging, even for Spenser who spoke near-fluent Japanese. After several attempts to translate cornstarch into the native language (One would think corn + starch = cornstarch, right? Wrong. It’s pronounced korunstarcha.), we headed back to my kitchen and made one of the best meals I have ever eaten—lots of tomato sauce, some ground beef, loads of cheese, and just the right amount of korunstarcha.

Pizza Fondue
(Connie Richerson)

½ lb. ground beef

1 small onion, chopped

2 10½-oz. cans pizza sauce (I use marinara sauce)

1 T. cornstarch (or korunstarcha, if you prefer)

1½ tsp. oregano

¼ tsp. garlic powder

2 cups cheddar cheese, shredded

1 cup mozzarella cheese, shredded

1 loaf French bread

Brown the ground beef and onion; drain. Put meat, sauce, cornstarch, and spices in fondue pot. When cooked and bubbly, add cheese. Spear crusty French bread cubes, then dip and swirl in fondue. This is also delicious with breadsticks. Serves 4 to 6.

From that point on, I was hooked on collecting my favorite recipes. I bought my own copy of More-With-Less when I got back to the States, and when I got married a few months later, I received my very first copy of everyone’s favorite red-and-white-plaid Better Homes and Gardens New Cook Book, with every recipe an emerging home cook could want.

I think most of us home cooks have a similar story to tell. OK, you probably didn’t have your first significant cooking experience in Uji, Japan, but I bet the first few times you got dinner on the table all on your own, you might as well have been in a different country.

Maybe your mom had you peeling potatoes before you could walk. Maybe you have a rich heritage of recipes passed down from your grandmother. None of our cooking histories are going to look the same, but we do have one thing in common: We all need to get dinner on the table.

I am not a professional cook. Tom Colicchio will never be critiquing my braised kale and chocolate with bacon foam on Top Chef. But over the past twenty years I have put dinner on the table almost every single night. And while my family still likes a pizza from the neighborhood shop, our kids who have left home really look forward to coming back for a home-cooked meal.

That is all the reward I need.

Why This Book?

So, you discovered my deep dark secret—I’m not a professional chef. I don’t have my own show on Food Network, my own brand of spatulas, and I’m not going to be appearing on any morning show making a frittata for Kathie Lee Gifford.

Still, I’m required to feed our large family almost daily. So when I come across a cookbook, I have an unnatural need to own it. I’m always looking for new recipes to keep dinner interesting at our house. I have an entire bookshelf in my kitchen for my ever-growing collection.

But to be honest with you, most of the money I’ve spent on those cookbooks could have been better spent on a good set of knives or a heavy iron skillet.

I have found that most cookbooks are aimed at the fantasy life many of us aspire to—entertaining regularly, having unusual and exotic ingredients on hand, and hours and hours in the kitchen to create these masterpieces, from scratch.

And then there is my reality. Yes, sometimes I like to spend a Saturday afternoon cooking up a big feast for friends and family. But most days? I want to get a delicious, healthy meal on the table quickly.

My test when I’m purchasing new cookbooks? I flip to a half dozen or so recipes throughout the book and ask myself, Can I imagine cooking this recipe in the next couple of weeks? If most of the recipes fail the test, the book stays at the store.

I want the reality. I want dinner on the table every night without being seduced by pictures of stylist-arranged food that—let’s be honest—I’m never going to prepare.

While those books offer up a lot of grilled-chicken-in-a-peanut-sauce-in-the-sky dreams, I need some reality. It’s not just about the recipe; it’s about all the aspects of getting dinner on the table.

By the end of this book, my hope for you is that you will be able to:

save time, money, and energy when it comes to
preparing meals
have less stress when it comes to shopping
get your kitchen prepared for battle
learn some stress-free ways to get dinner on the table
get out of your cooking rut
This book is all about the process, the how of getting dinner on the table. It reflects the collective wisdom of hundreds of women who don’t have prep cooks or a crew of interns trying out new recipes. We are the women who spend a significant part of our days thinking about, shopping for, and preparing dinner. And all these wise, wonderful women are going to show you a better way to get dinner on the table no matter what your cooking background or skill level.

This is the book I wish I’d had when I first started cooking, as well as when I was raising my brood of pint-sized food critics.

Don’t worry, there will be plenty of recipes. We all love to find that one recipe that is going to become a family favorite! But this book has much more than that. My hope is that you will be able to use the recipes you already have, the ones in this book, and the new ones you find along the way to set a big, bountiful table for your family.