Just a touch of smoke here, and it’s fleeting.
My heart goes out to those who are in the thick of it.
I’ve made a special request for rain down there. So far it hasn’t been answered. I didn’t think it would hurt to try. I imagine a lot of people are making the same request. Somebody Up There isn’t listening.
Another morning of frost; I can see it on the back windshield of my car.
We’ve had a freeze here but some flowers are still blooming; don’t ask me how. There was no good spot to sow the packet of seed we were given at Benny’s funeral, so I sprinkled them into three different pots and will save seed from all that bloomed, and maybe next year will make a little garden in memory of Benny.
Last night’s zucchini was delicious.
I’m not a turnip lover, except for small chunks of it to give flavour to soup.
But I did enjoy Jim’s story, so here you go: Turnip Soup
2 cups diced turnips
4 cups chicken or vegetable
1 bay leaf
Pinch of whole, dry thyme
1 cup whipping cream
Salt and pepper to taste
2 eggs yolks, beaten
1 tbsp. butter
In a large soup pot, cook the
turnips in the stock along with
the bay and thyme until tender.
Pour the turnips and stock
into a large sieve or colander,
reserving the stock. Remove the
bay leaf and discard.
Purée the turnips and add
them back to the stock. Bring
back to a gentle boil.
Lower the heat and add the
cream, season with salt and
pepper. Do not boil the soup at
Whisk in the egg yolks and
butter and serve piping hot.
My nan served this soup with
a large crouton fried in bacon fat
– wickedly delicious! Something
your cardiologist might find less
unsettling would be a dollop of
strained no-fat, plain yogurt or
low-fat sour cream.
I haven’t seen one in years,
but if you should find a waxed
turnip be sure to give it a
good peel before using it. Mr.
Gallagher (an old neighbour
near my grandparents’ place)
made a soup of whole turnips,
green cabbage, carrots and
potatoes. His method was a little
unconventional to say the least:
throw everything into a pot with
water. Put it over the fire and go
into town for a few pints.
If the place hasn’t burned to
cinders by the time you stagger
home, put the pot on the stoop
overnight to cool. In the morning,
poke a hole in the wax that’s
floated to the top and solidified,
pour off the stock. Remove
the wax cover and salvage
anything that’s not burned to the
bottom of the pot or completely
disintegrated during cooking and
pitch it back into the stock. Heat
up a bowl for breakfast, then go
into town for a few pints.
–Wadena News, Harvest Fare column by Jim Lincez
Our southern sky is a strange colour; probably smoke coming up from the fires in the western U.S.
Can’t smell it yet.
The news from down there is disturbing. And still that fool in the White House blames it on everything but climate change. Idiots abound.
We have a zucchini to use, and when I saw this recipe in the newspaper I wondered if squash and zucchini are the same thing.
Basically, they are, according to Google. At least they’re interchangeable in recipes.
I do get bored with food. But one must eat, so … much as food is the last thing on my mind today, I’ll make this tonight.
Sept 13, 1990
“Time To Dine” by Marion Korol
If you get tiny squash, do not peel,
seed or core. Slice 1/2” thick, dip
slices in beaten egg and a little milk,
salt and pepper mixture. Then dip
in flour, bread or cracker crumbs.
Fry in butter or bacon drippings till
a golden brown. If the squash is not
done by this time, reduce heat, cover
and cook a little longer. This is lovely
sprinkled with sage before it’s turned
over to brown the other side.
–Wadena News, Looking Back
Water on the driveway after a rain makes me happy.
WordPress, alas, does not. Thus I’m already pissed off and don’t feel like doing anything more on this page.
Off I go.