Goal for the Day: Live life unplugged

I love my iPhone. I’m the first to admit that I’m quite attached to it. However, I recognize that it’s not a substitute for reality. Very often, we see people out in the world, walking around, examining their smart phones. Whether they’re texting, reading, taking pictures or talking, our phones have taken the place of our eyes, ears and hands.


Remember, there’s a real world in front of us. It may not always be pretty and perfect, but it’s there and your experience within it is what you make of it. So, put the phone back in your pocket. View the world through your own eyes. Speak to people face-to-face. Learn by experience. Let your curiosity lead you into the tangible. Your phone will always be there, but the world around us changes in the blink of an eye.

Object of the Day: An Antique Pearl and Sapphire Stickpin

With miniature baroque pearls and a princess-cut sapphire set at an angle, this stickpin speaks of early Victorian tastes. Most men these days wouldn’t dream of wearing pearls, but a century ago, and until the 1910’s, it was relatively common for gentlemen’s jewelry to include small pearls. This modified shield-shape is surmounted by an attractively-shaped natural pearl which is balanced by two small pearls on either side of the sapphire and another at the lowest tip of the shield.


Set in 15 karat gold, this pin of British origin also features two naturalistic “sprigs” of gold which almost resemble a wishbone. This stickpin would have been worn during the day as a more casual adornment. Perhaps in another one hundred years, men’s fashions will prominently feature such ornaments. In the meantime, I’ll wait, and continue to collect these beautiful examples.

Painting of the Day: A Girl Chopping Onions, 1646

A Girl Chopping Onions
Gerrit Dou, 1646
Acquired by King George IV
The Royal Collection

King George IV had a special fondness for Dutch painting. In fact, he even designed a room in Carlton House around his collection of Dutch canvases. But, George IV wasn’t just any collector; he was able to amass an exceptional assortment of works from the finest Dutch painters.


Take, for instance, this domestic scene or genre painting by celebrated painter Gerrit Dou (1613-1675). Dou was notable as being the founder of the Dutch Fijnschilders school known for its meticulous brushwork, attention to detail and opulent finishes which give the paintings an ultra-realistic look. Dou often painted the subject of kitchen-maids which, in Dutch vernacular, was symbolic of more lascivious pursuits. The small child behind the table is, in light of this, more than just a “Dutch Baby,” but also a representation of cupid and the maid’s physicality.

This piece had a position of prominence in the collection of King George IV who was probably drawn to the work for both its outstanding artisty as well as its somewhat bawdy undertones.

Person of the Week: Hugh Bonneville

Hugh Bonneville most recently has made in appearance in many of our homes as Robert, Earl of Grantham in the ITV period drama, Downton Abbey. Mr. Bonneville, however, has a long and interesting list of credits to his name and is as notable for his stage performances as he is his television and film work.

Mr. Bonneville began his career on stage, performing in live Shakespearean productions alongside such celebrated actors as Kenneth Branagh and Ralph Fiennes. In the 1990’s he became a familiar face on both U.K. and U.S. television screens with leading roles in everything from comedies to high drama which served to showcase the actor’s talent and exceptional performance range. For a list of Hugh Bonneville’s credits, visit his official Web site where you’ll find not only a curriculum vitae, but also a host of interesting links about the work and life of this remarkable actor.

More so exceptional, Mr. Bonneville is among the few actors who, quietly and without ego, serves his community. He is a patron of organizations such as the U.K.’s international medical charity, Merlin; Scene and Heard, a group dedicated to partnering inner-city children with professional actors; The Giant Olive Theater Company and the Center Stage Academy. In addition, Mr. Bonneville is a devoted husband and father.

For his marvelous body of work, his charitable spirit and his caring nature, Hugh Bonneville is our “Person of the Week.”

Treat of the Week: Dutch Baby

Ah, the Dutch Baby—a long-time favorite of mine. While not actually Dutch and not actually a baby, the peculiarly-named, sweet and versatile pancake has a long history. Perfect for dessert, an entrée or for breakfast, this delightful creation is most assuredly a joyful experience.


The “Dutch Baby,” also called a “Bismarck,” began as a German pancake known as apfelpfannkuchen, and is, at its heart, essentially a low, flat Yorkshire pudding. Made with eggs, flour, milk, vanilla and cinnamon, the Dutch Baby is cooked on the stove in a cast iron skillet before being placed in the oven to finish baking. Once in the oven, it rises like a Yorkshire pudding.

While a Dutch Baby can be made in a large pan and then sliced for serving, (this phenomenon being referred to as “The Big Dutch Baby”) my mother makes them in small skillets allowing for each person to have a serving of their own baby. She fills the center with fresh fruit which becomes juicy and wonderfully soft as it bakes. In this case, fresh strawberries, blueberries, raspberries and blackberries filled the pancake. Once baked, the Dutch baby is dusted with confectioner’s sugar, drizzled with honey and served with a side of whipped cream. It’s pure heaven!

Now, how did the apfelpfannkuchen become known as “The Dutch Baby”? It seems that the first people to call this pancake by that name were the owner’s of Manca’s Café in Seattle. Manca’s had a copyright on the name until closing in the 1950’s. According to Dutch Baby legend, it was Victor Manca’s daughter who dubbed the pancake, “Dutch Baby.” But, why Dutch? They’re German. “Dutch” seems to apply to the “Pennsylvania Dutch,” a nickname for German immigrants in the U.S. who were called “Dutch” because of the word “Deutsch.”

However, a baby by any other name would taste as sweet. Regardless of what you call them, they’re a wonderful, and relatively simple dish to prepare. Now, I’m not the chef in the family, so recipes are not my forte. I eat and enjoy, but the art and science of cooking is still something of a mystery to me. However, a simple online search for “Dutch Baby” will yield myriad recipes which will allow you to adopt a Dutch Baby of your own—and then eat it.

Sculpture of the Day: Theseus and Antiope, circa 1600

Bronze Group
Possible Theseus
and Antiope
Adriaen de Vries
Dutch, 1600-01
The Royal Collection

Adriaen de Vries, the Dutch sculptor, studied with Florentine master Giovanni Bologna and adopted the Italian genius’ style of elongated figures which seemed alive with muscularity. In his own right, de Vries became a celebrated artist whose works were as sought-after as they were highly regarded.


A favorite subject matter of de Vries, as well as many sculptors of the early Seventeenth Century, was the theme of women being carried off by men. This was not so much an editorial statement in favor of abduction or cruelty to women as it was considered an opportunity to sculpt contrasting male and female figures in the process of motion. Such compositions were thought of as challenging and a fitting way for a sculptor to show his skill. De Vreis sculpted many such scenes. This one, dating to 1600 to 1601, cast in bronze, quite possibly depicts Theseus (King of the Athenians) and his abduction of Antiope who would be his bride. I say, “quite possibly” because the subject has been a matter of debate for many centuries. Recently, the sculpture has been the focus of many scientific studies intended to deduce the true subject matter—including a series of x-rays. Now, just what the researchers intended to find by x-raying the piece is unclear to me. I’m not quite sure how the internal structure of the sculpture would identify the subject of the composition.

Regardless of the names of the subjects, the sculpture is exceptional—utilizing the stylized elongation of Bologna, but with a decidedly Dutch feel to the overall composition. De Vries has compensated for the group’s natural top-heavy nature by placing the legs of the male figure quite far apart. In other sculptures of similar scenes, de Vries filled the space between the man’s legs with something quite substantial such as the carcass of a centaur. Here, however, he’s left the space void with the exception of a rather peculiar, withered plant. The plant has a purpose. If one studies it closely, we can see that the plant actually was meant to serve as a vent during the casting of the piece.

We know, of course, that like most of the Royal Family, King George IV liked to collect things. While the records that accompany this sculpture are sketchy at best, it first popped up in the Royal Collection during George IV’s reign. If he purchased the piece or if it was given to him is something of a mystery.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 176

Iolanthe Evangeline squinted at the fireplace in her bedroom. Traces of the broken chalk sculpture of the Virgin Mary were still visible on the hearth. She shouted for Mala who came trotting into the room like an obedient mule.


“Didn’t I tell you to clean this?” Iolanthe pointed to the hearth.

“Yes, Miss Evangeline.” Mala nodded vigorously.

“Well, then, why didn’t you do it?” Iolanthe asked, raising her hand up behind her head as if she was preparing to slap Mala.

Mala flinched.

Iolanthe chuckled and lowered her hand. “Just clean it up.”

“Yes.” Mala nodded again as she hurried over t the hearth, she glanced over her shoulder at Iolanthe.

“What are you lookin’ at?” Iolanthe hissed.

“I’m just checkin’ on you, Miss.” Mala whispered.

“You do care about me. Don’t you, Mala? Even inasmuch as it’s just because my mood dictates your level of comfort. But, still, you do care.”

Mala grunted.

“I know I seem out-of-sorts.” Iolanthe sighed. “Believe it or not, Mala, I’m not quite sure what to do. This girl—this Ulrika—she’s more of a problem than I’d anticipated. I didn’t think she had it in her, but she’s a force, that one.”

“Yes, Miss.” Mala nodded as she swept the hearth.

“I’ve got to get that diamond back.” Iolanthe growled.

“Maybe I can help, Miss.” Mala turned around, smiling.

“You?” Iolanthe raised her eyebrows.

“You never know, Miss Evangeline, sometimes the best things come in the ugliest of packages.” Mala winked.

Meanwhile, in the parlor of Dr. Biamenti’s Royal Street house, Robert narrowed his eyes at Charles Van Eyck.

“Well?” Robert demanded.

“Sir, are you implying that I’ve forged my letters of reference?” Charles asked.

“I’m not implying it.” Robert shook his head, “I’m saying it outright.”

“Robert, why are you asking such a thing?” Adrienne asked.

“This writing is not the hand of a gentleman, and it’s certainly not the hand of a doctor. This is a woman’s handwriting. Now, Charles, if you had suggested that this a letter from Miss Harelda, then, I’d have believed you. You see, this is the penmanship of an educated woman. Who helped you write this?” Robert asked.

“Sir, I can explain.” Charles said nervously.

“I think you’d best start.” Cecil interrupted.

“You’re correct, Dr. Halifax, my letters are forgeries.”

“Why?” Adrienne chirped.

“I wanted this job, you see.” Charles answered honestly.

“So, you had someone forge your references?” Robert shook his head.

“Not just someone, Sir.” Charles replied. “But, the person who told me of the position in the first place.”

“I thought you’d heard about the opening from ‘servant gossip.’” Cecil barked.

“This is not the handwriting of a servant.” Robert spat.

“No, Sir.” Charles nodded. “Not exactly.”

“Well?” Robert demanded.

“Sir, it’s the handwriting of a lady. Barbara, Lady Fallbridge, to be exact.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-175? If so, you can read them here.