Another October 1st. Another day to sit back and think. This October 1st, this Independence Day, I am thinking a few things. Reinventing Hope Where it not for Timi of Lively Twist, I would be moaning about my country. Instead I’m thinking of ‘Reinventing Hope‘. She writes ‘ Little hinges swing huge doors. Change will elude us as long as we only point fingers.’ And I SCREAM in agreement. Turning my pointing finger back on myself!
Toasted Oats with Fruit & Spice
We made the transition as a family in the winter of two thousand and twelve. Shortly before our New Year’s Day brunch. It was my idea. My vision, and I wasn’t quite sure how they would take it but I was intent on trying anyway. See my children grew up eating a lot of soft, cereal-like food. Once the toddling stages were past, I couldn’t force convince them to have anything that remotely resembled mush. No mashed potatoes, no polenta, and definitely no oatmeal.
Brighton: Down By The Beach
I am considering moving countries. Cities. Towns. Brighton is currently top of my list. Don’t ask me the hard question, for I can’t choose right now between Brighton and the love of my life, New York City. For now, let’s just leave it at Brighton. The photos may explain why.
How To Eat Fried Snails
Peppered. Freshly made. Leftovers. Freshly warmed. Who cares? On a toothpick. Or by hand. Standing up. Sitting down. By the dozen. Or half-dozen, belying your generosity. Not showing your greed. A half-dozen, at the very least. But one by one. One after the other. Hard flesh, rubbery flesh, crunch. Juicy tentacles. With rice. Delicious, freshly-boiled white rice. And plantains. Simply fried. Not stuffed or peppered. Peppered and spiced. No garlic butter. Just yet. That’s France, not us. By hand. Forget cutlery. And decorum.
Marketplace: Tomatoes. By The Basket Load
They come from all over Nigeria and go by different names, speaking to their provenance, their source and origins. The tomatoes do. Names unpronounceable in some languages, where certain consonant combinations are never found. Like gb. Pronounced with force and confidence. And literally known as labial-velar consonants. Truly doubly articulated labial–velars occur as stops and nasals in the majority of languages in West and Central Africa (for example in the surname of Laurent Gbagbo, former president of Ivory Coast…. They include [k͡p, ɡ͡b, ŋ͡m]. To pronounce these, one must attempt to say the velar consonants, but then close their lips for the bilabial component, and then release the lips. Note...
Nigeria’s Rainy Season Produce: August
‘I was personally very relieved when I realized that you can complete a project by dropping it. That’s how I completed learning to cook and learning German, becoming a good skier, and a list of other things too long to recite’, Arriana Huffington of The Huffington Post And that’s how I will complete learning to make home-made chocolate from scratch with cocoa beans. By abandoning it. Thank you Arriana. —–00000—– Its the season for many things. Rain, tomatoes and transition. Summer to Autumn, wet to wetter. Transitions can be hard but I want to see them as twilight periods, the...
La Boite a Epice, and Lior Lev Sercarz
Something Old fragrant trails & paths of old paved by silk, saffron and peppercorns Something New The alchemy of touch and taste, to produce memories, nostalgia (salt on cheeks), feeling, moment, heart Something Borrowed From spice racks, the world’s own, seeds, nuts and berries are drawn. Old familiars: nutmeg, cinnamon, vanilla. And new ones too: Orchidea root Something Blue Lior Lev Sercarz’s lab coat —–00000—– Who says certain rhymes can only be applied to ‘reason’. Like marriage rhymes for brides. Move that over and fit the shoe where its needed. I stare at him and he stares right back, across...
My Favourite Pies, Potholders and More
Pandowdy See this pie – its a gorgeous skillet bake with a nicely ‘gridded’ top crust. Meet my version of the pandowdy. An Apple & Rhubarb pandowdy. – thick with flavour and scented with citrus. Sweet, with hints of tart, nicely wrapped in a flaky crust. I met this pandowdy fellow a mere week ago – there she graced the cover of peach and blueberry filling. I knew I just had to make my own.
On Pie: Baked and Dreamt of
I may not have le cordon blue or any ribbon at all proclaiming me master pie maker but I am determined to raise my children on pie, with pie and knowing pie. My childhood was satisfactory, thank you very much. Even without pie as we know it. All that pielessness is being addressed, corrected. I’ll have you know that I’ve baked more sweet pies in the last 6 months than I have in the entire preceding decades, thanks to 3 great women – Antonia James, a food52er who introduced me to ‘Humble Pie’ and its author Anne Dimock, who motivated...