And I’m not going to (and you shouldn’t) either.
I was reminded of this bit of wisdom recently when I started thinking about the trip the DH and I will be making to the UK next month. We will be staying in various B&Bs, the reservations for which have been left in the hands of one of my UK cousins who will be traveling with us for certain sections of the trip. (more…)
My father was a first generation American; his father came from (depending on what period you are referring to) Austria/Russia/the Ukraine, and married a woman whose parents were basically from the same area as he was from (when you come to a new country, marrying someone who’s a ‘landsman’ is sort of a piece of security, I guess), so the selection of family dishes was pretty consistent: lots of dairy food, lots of onions, cabbage and potatoes, chicken or fish, and when the family got a little bit ahead, ‘gedempte fleisch’ (boiled meat – what is referred to now in that chic way as ‘brisket’ because the back end of the cow can never be Kosher, no matter what you do). Eating cheap was basically all my dad knew how to do — even after he became a doctor, his favorite meal was cottage cheese with pepper and onions. (more…)
Earlier this spring (is it still officially spring?), I started some seeds under glass. And I very carefully wrote down on a diagram what I had planted from the seed packets. There was spinach and winter lettuce, mixed cabbages and Soloist Chinese Cabbage. Now, the reason I got those seeds is that I really love Napa Cabbage but they are the size almost of the shoe that the Old Woman Who Lived In A.. lived in and I always end up chucking at least half of it into the compost heap or giving it to the chickens. Soloist is a baby Nappa, so I was really attracted to that. Well, the original plants looked like all seedlings from the cabbage family do so I didn’t think about that. And I kept transplanting them and forgot what they were supposed to be. (more…)
For gardeners, even the word ‘compost’ will cause people to wax poetically and almost enter a state of ecstasy. Compost is ‘brown gold’ – it is seen as being able to magically transform a garden. And to the extent that when it contains the optimal combination of carbon and nitrogenous materials and has been allowed to cook long enough to kill off seeds and so on, it is great stuff.
But not everything that is called ‘compost’ is equal to this standard. (more…)
It doesn’t matter if you read news sites, fashion (or non-fashion) blogs, but I think at least once a week, I see a headline which reads: “The Top Ten… that you must have in your closet this season” (or, next season, or this year, or..).
And it doesn’t matter what it is or what they are touting but I have to tell you when Aunt Toby goes down through those lists of items, invariably, the little voice in her head is saying, “Nope…nope…are they kidding?… nope, that’s another useless item…only on women under the age of 30 who are over 5’8” tall… I’d break my ankles if I wore those…even if I liked that I wouldn’t be able to find it or find it in MY size… nope …and where did she get those clavicles?” (more…)
I don’t know if I invented this or not (does anyone invent anything these days), but we had three rather sorry looking bananas in the fridge at Chez Siberia and I had the idea that I wanted to add dried cocoanut and pineapple/pineapple juice and make a cake. Aunt Toby is very fond of cakes that have fruit in them (see cake, banana; cake, blueberry, and so forth) because they taste wonderful just..the…way…they…are. No frosting needed.
Not that Aunt Toby feels some sort of ill will toward frostings (see frosting, cream cheese), mind you; it’s just that with some cakes, it’s too much sweetness for me. (more…)
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