Women and cats will do as
they please,
men and dogs should relax
and get used
to the idea.
-Robert A. Heinlein
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
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.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
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!
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!
Sunday, January 13, 2008
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 h
ill, 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.
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 h
ill, 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.
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