Women and cats will do as 

they please, 

men and dogs should relax 

and get used

to the idea.

-Robert A. Heinlein

Speaking of tomatoes....

Foreign food from local places

Yes, yes, I'm back with lots to share...

First off, dinner!  Foreign foods made with local ingredients.  Tonight we dined on chile rellenos con queso and a corn and tomato salad.  All the ingredients were local, with the most miles on the Monterey Jack cheese from an English dairy and the Spanish beer.

During an outing last week with work, I stumbled upon a farmer's market stall selling salsa and chutneys made primarily from peppers.  These didn't really stand out but behind them was a bushel of Anaheim peppers, looking absolutely gorgeous and begging to go home with me.  The vendor was a little stunned when I proceeded to stuff a bag full of them, ten total. 

The recipe was made from scratch and all went well, even the frying which always seems to make me cringe a bit.  The tomato sauce was made with our own tomatoes from the greenhouse.  Our corn isn't quite ready yet, but this morning's local farmer's market had one lone ear that served us well.  

The corn and tomato salad was inspired by a recent post from Chez Pim.  It's definitely a salad that will come up again for us once our corn comes due.

It's been a while since I last wrote... it's not for lack of trying there are a heaps of 'drafts' within CasaHaggis that just weren't up to snuff.

I wonder if it's the weather that makes blogging possible for me. The lack of longing grey puts a much clearer spin on the muddle in my head... plus things have been busy.

The weather broke Easter weekend, an official four-day holiday with Friday and Monday "bank holidays" for all, I've learned, except those in care professions... like me. So I worked on Friday which was fine for me because I have things to do and a holiday will only get in the way. The rest of the weekend turned out to be quite delightful with our first snow of ... winter. Yes whilst everyone else is thawing out we got a good weekend of white stuff, enough for children to scatter large snowpeople throughout the city.


Meanwhile, Alastair and I indulged in a good American-style brunch hosted by a Brit with a Malaysian story. The menu was influenced by recent travels to Seattle and included good huevos rancheros, homemade granola, British hot cross buns, lots of tea and coffee, followed by several newspapers to read. And, yes, people! British people actually rose out of their beds for the occasion and brought their smiles, well, mostly. So, a great weekend, and the social connections, led on to some baking and an impromptu dinner with lost friends.

In between snow storms, Alastair and I snuck out to peak at our rhubarb plants which have been glistening with potential for some weeks now, like rubies against the darkness of their cloches. We managed to harvest sixteen ounces of rosy-ness, and thanks to Epicurious, we turned it into the best compote we've ever tasted. This paired with a polenta cake traveled with us to dinner where it was welcomed with open arms and mouths. I think Alastair's even planning more rhubarb plants for our future so we don't loose any sunny, ruby goodness.

It's good to be back. Hope you missed me!

Wary of Wellies...

Since I first arrived in the UK, I've fought the Wellies movement with the hope it would .... well, move on. The cascade of polka dots, flowers and stripes have been a little too much to bear... as evidenced at last year's folk festival when a little rain brought out everyone's short shorts and rubber.

There is another personality that ascribes to the Wellington boot, i.e., the country walker. Usually in our village that means the dog walker, but occasionally we see others sporting them. Alastair and I do own pairs of wanna-be wellies, but they are stashed in the attic since I found them a bit complicated when worn around mud and very hard on the knees. I just couldn't get the hang of them around the riverbottom mud that assumes the surface position after a good rain here. It's like cake icing.

A couple of weekends ago, Alastair and I joined friends for a walk in Essex. It had rained the day before but was clear Saturday. After an interesting lunch at The Cricketeers in Clavering, which some of you would appreciate knowing is where the Naked Chef got his start, we wandered about the fields, enjoying the clear skies and a small hill. Up a hill means down a hill, right ... which is where we came upon a little ravine with the announcement, "It's a little slippery down here." That was a classic British euphemism for a 100 yard bobsledding track. With much holding of breath, children and our trousers, we finally got skidded down it. As you can tell from the photo, I finally gave in and walked right through it. Further afield, we passed a dogwalker, well dressed with a clean dog. He took one look at me and shook his head... he was wearing wellies.

I can't say how I would have managed in wellies on that walk. I was grateful for the waterproof quality of my Blundstones ... but perhaps a little rubber would have made the clean-up easier.

At last... Sun!

Blue skies seem to be few and far between this winter. Mom's average for sunny days during her visit was pretty sad.... something near 6 out of 18 days. Fortunately, we managed to take advantage of almost every one of them without hurting ourselves running for the front door.

Our last day of sun was spent doing girl-y things in Cambridge's city centre, aka downtown. Wandering through the Sunday craft market, shopping for hemp clothing to take home to the States, buying matching boots and cardigans (not hemp but prettier), drinking seasonal coffees at Starbucks and browsing the few galleries that were open, at the while trying to stand in the sunny spots.

Here's hoping my mom comes in the summer next time.

2008!

Thick with colds, the best way to bring in the new year ...

games of Scrabble
chocolate fondue
Shooglenifty
and a whisky.

Hope your celebrations were just as good or better.

And, if you're inspired by the idea of chocolate fondue, here are a few dippers to consider:

biscotti
coconut macaroons
ladyfingers
blackberries
marshmallows
crystallized ginger
salted pretzels and
clementines.

Happy New Year!

Speaking of mending...

Several of you have mentioned that you can't make comments to the blog, sorry about that. I've fixed the default: must have googlemail to will receive all emails regardless of how lowly. Silly Google, one might thing they were working toward world domination or something.

Something new...

Josephina's

Larimers Square, Denver

16" x 20"

Some of you know that we have my mom visiting for the holidays. It's been great fun having family about; I've forgotten what it's like to be around someone who's so familiar with you that you don't have to finish sentences. It also means that we can lean on one another for things like clothes mending and blog mending. Yes, that's right, my mom has her art blog up and running, showing some of her recent work. So, if you have a minute, pop over and ooh and ah.

Christmas is coming, the geese are getting fat,
Please to put a penny in an old man’s hat;
If you haven’t got a penny, a ha’penny will do;
If you haven’t got a ha’penny, God bless you!

Mother Goose

Happy Holidays!

This is a project completed at the care home where I work. Each hand represents a resident and has a wish or resolution for the new year. It hangs in the entryway and will be dismantled at the New Year when we'll read the wishes and resolutions.

Downsizing...

Last June, you know, in the summertime and six months after my introduction into gingerbread engineering, I volunteered to make gingerbread house kits for our annual church Christmas fundraiser in December. It's a good cause; it could be a good moneymaker... and, it would be good to revisit gingerbread and see if I had learned anything at all.

So, with lots of notice, I planned and shopped and organized ... and with Alastair's help and a healthy sugar high, I actually finished with time to spare. So, thanks to Martha, twenty kits found good homes, which was a huge relief because I can't imagine what I would have done with them otherwise.

Thanksgiving

To those of you who have seriously annoyed a turkey today, Happy Thanksgiving!

For me, dinner was cheesy pasta, aka mac 'n cheese. This is a big occasion for me, I kid you not, because I haven't had it in over two years. After years of avoiding the stuff having met my quota in early university, I returned to the dish with Alastair's help and a little bit of mustard powder or salsa, then it was off the menu as I await the day my system tolerates cow's milk again... still waiting.

Well, the mustard powder went a long way tonight, as I grated the precious ewe's milk Wensleydale eagerly sold to me by our local Waitrose cheesemonger and then melted it into my roux. It was so creamy and tangy, I could almost forget it wasn't cheddar. Far from the salty orangeness of the fast meals I relied on when I couldn't figure out how to adjust mom's recipes that fed 5+, and yet still the same sort of salvation.

Bless that cheesemonger!

Ely Cathedral

With the arrival of a houseguest, I always look forward to the new territory we'll explore together. Alastair and I don't often play tourist whilst living in Cambridge and are often grateful when we host houseguests for the opportunities they offer to do so. Most recently this meant a trip to Ely to visit the cathedral. I have to confess that the origins of the trip were to mostly take advantage of the lovely drive to Ely filled with fire-y autumnal leaves, and the big skies in contrast with the dark soils of the fens. It was just luck that we learned that cathedrals were a special interest to this particular houseguest.

Off we went, in pursuit of lunch and cathedral touring whilst the clock counted down to that evening's whisky tasting. The drive was beautiful, lunch quayside was an unexpected treat, and then the cathedral. Mind you, that cathedrals in the Britain don't have the reverent quality for me that others do. They can be awesome with architecture and displays but they don't have that ... something, which can leave me silent in grace, perhaps it's because of their size or perhaps their opulence or no, none of those rule out the others. Ely's cathedral was breathtaking and huge, especially when one considers the size of the town, and something I'll look forward to visiting again. Thank goodness for houseguests.

Something for everyone?

Post Office, St. John's Street, Cambridge

Happy Hallowe'en!

Death of a Drummer
about 1670-1680

Joachim Henne
North Germany
Elephant Ivory

Victoria & Albert Museum
London

Compost

I make compost all year round from kitchen waste, grass clippings and any other plants/cuttings that stand still long enough but there are two problems: some weed seeds manage to sneak into the pile; and adding a little every week means that the compost decomposes slowly. But, in the fall, you get large amounts of material at once as you harvest crops and plants start to die back and then you can make a big, hot compost pile which decomposes faster and cooks all those weed seeds so you don't spread weeds as you spread compost.

A couple of days ago, our neighbor Basil cut down his runner beans and dropped the remains over the fence for me. There must have been 10-15 cubic feet of stalks and leaves in the pile so I moved the existing compost pile aside and rebuilt the pile alternating layers of fresh material, cardboard and old compost and then watered the pile. The old compost is there to act as a starter but why the cardboard? It seems that decomposition needs a mix of nitrogen (fresh green stuff) and carbon (woody stalks, dead leaves and cardboard). Once it gets nice and wet, the cardboard also provides bedding material for worms and gives them somewhere to flee to if the compost gets too hot for comfort. The worms, of course, come from the old compost which was absolutely crawling with them (as well as beetles, bacteria and other soil-friendly organisms) and will do a great job of breaking down all the fresh material.

A few days later, I have added an insulating layer of fresh grass clippings (which worms don't really like - c'est la vie) and some more top layers of cardboard and the compost is getting quite warm to the touch. I'm hoping that it will get hot enough to cook any seeds that snuck into the compost. Those worms had better dive into the bedding layer in case they cook too!

We do have one wee problem with the compost though - it's been attracting fruit flies which have then flown into the house and are driving us nuts. I guess they must be attracted by the kitchen waste (did we suddenly start eating/tossing more fruit in the last month??) so I'm trying to find a way to keep the flies away from the compost in future. Top of the list is switching to vermicomposting (worm-powered composting) for kitchen waste. I already have lots of worms in the compost so what's different about vermicomposting? It turns out not much: I have to add a lot more bedding material and I need to bury fresh kitchen waste under bedding material (which I'm hoping will keep the fruit flies out). Most important though is I have to pay some attention to the worm's diet. It seems they like to be fed every day or two (so the food doesn't mould before they can eat it), they don't like acidic food, citrus peel, garlic or onions (which Edye doesn't eat either) and they don't like grass clippings (so I'll keep kitchen waste in a separate pile from garden waste). A bit more hassle than normal compost but all the reports I've read say they produce beautiful rich compost that improves soil structure, encourages earthworms to pull material down deep into the soil and fertilizes the plants.

Best Laid Plans of ...

Camping, Fowlmere

Well, our vacation plans were foiled by trains, illness and weather. After postponing our vacation because Squeak was sick, Alastair brought home a cold from Belgium... ooh, how exotic!... gave it to me ...I would have preferred chocolates!... and it showed itself on what would have been the first day of our trip. The colds shouldn't have posed a problem except that our vacation was meant to be a 100-mile cycling journey along the Norfolk coast which commenced and ended with train rides from and to Cambridge (100 miles each way) but neither train was running that week and bicycles were not allowed on the alternate bus option, on top of that Autumn/Winter reared its head offering a week-long weather forecast of wind from the North (brrrrr) and rain. Not keen to tour 300 miles in five days under those circumstances and call it a 'holiday', we scrubbed our original plans, saving the mid-week reservation we had at Morston Hall, more on that in a later post.

Above are photos (if you click on the photo, it will open up a small photo album) from our mini-camping/cycling adventure. Since everything was packed and loaded AND Alastair and I have never camped together ever. On principal, we mounted our bicycles for an overnight in a village not far from home. We cycled a mild and pleasant 10 miles to Fowlmere where I experienced my British camping site. Camping in England is a bit like staying at a KOA. Our tent was nestled between two caravans (trailers) on an old apple orchard. There was hot water to wash dishes and showers for a 50 pence piece. Alastair called it our Shakedown Tour. We almagamated our camping equipment, discovered that we're still cold even in our three-season equipment. But the important things worked: tea and coffee. Dinner and breakfast were enjoyable although arrangements will be necessary in order to eat off the wet grass and outside the tent... there wasn't a rock to spare.

Harvest Time: El Tiempo de la Cosecha

At long last, it's time to cook! Since we've returned from our mini-camping trip, we've been feasting on tomatillo treats: chilaquiles, stewed fish burritos, and just plain salsa. It's been worth the wait.

The best part is that world domination is imminent. The seedlings I passed along to my nutritionist friend, Marie-Ann, are now producing their own yield and she is loving the recipes shared thus far. Exponentially speaking, the world is not my oyster but my tomatillo.

Romanesque

 

What do you suppose I should do with this?

Found in our little green grocer in the village, it insisted that I take it home. Frankly, all I could think of to do with it is to frame it. It's a cross between a broccoli and a cauliflower... so apparently known to its friends as broccoflower, which I don't think does it justice. The sign on the basket said Romanesque.

I suppose it will be eaten raw with a dip, but I'll keep you posted (pun intended).

Day in Town.

Trinity College


Alastair and I headed into the centre of Cambridge on Saturday to do a bit of shopping and have dinner. If you've heard from Alastair his views on Cambridge on a Saturday, you'll appreciate that this is especially brave. Fortunately, it wasn't as crowded as one would expect. I imagine most of the tourists with families have headed home by now and all the mums had shopped themselves to exhaustion preparing for school to start this week.

I pocketed our camera since I've grown tired of arriving in town only to curse not having it. Perhaps this is me growing, learning. We took advantage of the summer sales a bit, revived at Starbucks in Borders, then recuperated over bento boxes and Kirin beer at Teri-Aki. Not a bad day.

Brass Flowers along Bridge Street

Tomatillo Verde

I mentioned earlier that my tomatillos needed a bit more sun. It looks like they just might get what they need if the forecast holds out. This little husk needs to fill to bursting over the next couple of weeks. All of my fingers are crossed.

If you're experiencing a little too much sun and heat where you are, perhaps you could send some our way. Much appreciated.

Summer Sun II

 

Looks like Squeak's not the only one to see some creative shade...

My first piece of art...

Click on photo to enlarge

Our time at home has been spent out of doors this weekend. We caught up on our gardening and did a couple of projects, plus Alastair had a good twenty mile cycle around nearby villages.

The project in the photo above has been on my mind for months but I've been slow to put it together... in fact, my first attempt failed as I overcompensated with the mitre saw which complicated things because I couldn't walk myself through the error. Thankfully Alastair repaired my attempt, was keen to play with my framing tacks, et voila!

Inside is a selection of sempervivum and a couple of other succulents that I've collected over the last couple of years. Behind it is layers of mesh, sphagnum moss and sisal. It hangs in our back garden on the far fence, but can be seen from the front gate. If you come for a barbecue, it's the first thing you'd see.

Had you been here last night...

Last night, had you lived nearby, we would have invited you to dinner. The weather was warm with little breeze, the barbecue was hot and the sweetcorn just pulled off the stalks in our garden.

Our menu was:
Grilled swordfish with salsa verde (pineapple sage, capers, lemon and mint)
Steamed corn on the cob
Green salad (mixed lettuces and tomatoes (from the garden) plus avocado and celery.

Fresh apple and blackbery crisp with oats

New Zealand Montana 2006 Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc

Missed you!

Summer Sun

Until Sunday, life here has been sunny and warm; even Squeak chose to find some shade. It's been lovely here, warm enough to eat outside and even barbecue. Things just changed and consequently, I think everyone on this island simultaneously shook their heads and sadly wrote off summer... not me though, I'm not British yet. I have tomatillos that still need a few more weeks of good weather to flourish.

More to come, promise.

So, these last few weeks have been filled with good news, sad news and waiting for a certain someone to make her debut. It's been bittersweet. All the while, the garden continues to grow, with Alastair and I dining on zucchini these last three nights and that's all from one plant. (I thought we'd learned from two plants last year, grin.) The tomatillos are madly producing their lovely little lanterns, the corn is doing its very best to mature two cobs per stalk and there are four pumpkins working hard to make this Halloween our very best. Soon, we'll be canning.

Happy Birthday, Casa Haggis!

Our little web log turned one year old a few days ago. My, my, how time flies. It's been fun to share news and experiences with you in this fashion. I hadn't planned to like it so much, which is good since I hope to continue it for a while. I mean I have to tell you about my vacation, don't I?

Some of you have taken the time to comment on the posts or email me directly about something on the blog. Thank you! It encourages me to write more. That's good, right?

Where's Edye?

Superior Mirage: Chicago

It's best seen if you click on the photo above.

Clouds in Chicago

Wild Orchid

This morning, I was surprised by the telephone in the early hour of seven. Gill, a friend from the library, was wandering over to our local reserve to view the Bee Orchids and did I want to come. I've never seen a native wild orchid, only those tropical orchids gifted or purchased. So, early morning wander and new discovery? I think so!

We cycled to the center of the reserve near the big oak tree, ambled passed it and into a marshy field that I often pass when I take the neighbor's dogs for a walk. It was a grey morning, threatening rain, which was actually really good at allowing all the colors to show through. I think I would have walked right by them, had it been sunny.

Actually, I might have walked by them all together because they are so small. None of the flowers grew above my knee and I spend most of the morning on my hands and knees, soaking clear through my jeans with the marsh moist. The bee orchid was so small, almost a micro-miniature of the similar lady's slipper orchid one can often find at the florist or in client-based offices where the reception area is meant to entertain you whilst you wait. I had to really look for the bee orchid because it often wasn't higher than the grass that surrounded it. And, I must confess, it paled to the common spotted orchid that grows near it. This orchid, seen above, was complex with patterned leaves as well as delicate detailed ink trails on its petals. It surrounded me in every shade of its mauve purple. Nearby, was another orchid I have yet to identify, a yellow petals stalk with long fangs it seemed. And, beyond that a small fern known as an adder's tongue for its snake like blossom. It's not bigger than a finger, as illustrated in the photos I've linked to below.

The sun showed itself just enough to illuminate a few photos which I have assembled the best of in a slide show just for you. At the end of the slide show is a 20-second long film of a bee orchid, which has a tiny drop of pollen dangling in its center. I hope you enjoy it all.

How to cook artichokes

Some of you, who saw the post on Physalis about my artichokes, asked how I cook them. So, I thought it best to share it here. If you like artichokes, it's really worth paying attention to this post because I'm going to save you about 25 minutes and get you to the table sooner. I am also going to invite you to post any suggestions you might have about the process and what to dip artichoke leaves in, perhaps you're in the mayonnaise camp, perhaps you prefer melted butter, or maybe lean towards hollandaise... or another sauce. Do share.

Now then, the best way I've found to prepare and cook artichokes is to half them in their raw state, clean out the flower with a sharp paring knife removing all the inedible fringe and the youngest of the leaves that are a bit of faff (that's British for a waste of time). After you've cleaned out these parts, put the half into a bowl of water with the juice of half of a lemon to prevent it from browning, whilst you work on the rest of the artichokes. Rinse and repeat.

Meanwhile, you'll need a pan with a lid that allows for all the artichokes halves to rest flat in 1-1/2 inches of water. See above for an illustration. Fill the pan with boiling water and add a slice of lemon, a few whole peppercorns, and a bay leaf. Feel free to ad lib here. Bring the pan to a simmer and add the artichokes. Lid the pan and set the timer for 15 minutes, a good place to start. The time will vary depending on how many you're poaching. When you can smell them, they're definitely done, and I prefer them less cooked than that. So at 15 minutes, I fork them like a potato to see if they're tender. Once they're at the consistency I like, I remove them from the heat and the water, because they'll keep cooking. If I'm serving them at room temperature or refrigerated, I'll rinse them with cold water to stop the cooking process.

And, that's it. No pressure cooking, no need to work hours before. And, you get a well-presented veg that doesn't intimidate most people. Unfortunately, this means Alastair actually likes them and I can no longer barter for his heart.

P.S. You can cook them in the microwave, but since we don't have one, I had to get creative. I really don't miss the steam burns when unwrapping the plastic wrap.

Love comforteth
like sunshine
after the rain

-Shakespeare

It's raining today,
not so much love...

Physalis: The Tomatillo and the Cape Gooseberry

A couple of weeks ago, Alastair and I were finishing off a long weekend of gardening and discussing how best to keep track of all we're doing, when Alastair suggested that I blog a journal of sorts, keeping track of weather and progress. It was a great idea, one which I've been playing at ever since. It's still in its infancy, not even walking yet, but there's a personality in there somewhere... If you're interested in what's happening in our garden, then perhaps you could wander over to Physalis: The Tomatillo and the Cape Gooseberry

Now a funny thing about this website, there's a creative spelling in its name, not the name you see here but the one you'll see in its URL. Apparently Cedric thought of it before me, way backin 2004, so it's his. Instead, I got creative with the spelling and added an 'l'. We'll see how much trouble this gets me in. Regardless, you and I know it with the proper name and there's a link to it on the right hand side of the blog under Tasty Morsels, so you don't have to give this little paragraph another thought.

So, why Physalis? It's the latin name for two of my favorite fruit: the tomatillo and the cape gooseberry. The tomatillo I grew to love in the Americas, the cape gooseberry I discovered on this little island. They're related and lovely to grow, which I hope to show you over the next couple of years. We should have tomatillos this year, cape gooseberries next. There's a third member of the phyalis family that might show its face on the blog, but one can't eat it. It's a flower called a Chinese Lantern, and is a delight, too.