You know how sometimes – maybe all the time – you come home at the end of the day and the last thing you want to do is cook? And you know how, sometimes, if you make that little bit of effort with a dish you’ve been wanting to make, it’s all worth it?
Well, this might not be that dish.
First of all, perhaps I should tell you what this dish is: a combination of light and flavourful crespelle (aka crêpes or pancakes) rolled with three types of cheese and whatever garden green you have going at the moment. Then the whole thing is baked together, which doesn’t seem like it should be as good as it is, but it is.
Three weeks into the kids’ summer holidays, and I’ve been bandying the word “staycation” about quite a bit. I’m hoping that the kids can grasp the difference between what they are doing every day this summer and what they would normally do on, say, any old weekend, but to be honest, it’s all pretty much the same. The Author and I have got even less of a staycation, having to work most of the month of August, but we have managed to carve out little bits of time to do holiday-ish things as a family.
Still, it’s been a mixed bag all around. Sun, wind, cold, visiting cousins, leaving cousins, boredom, sleepovers in a tent in the rain, movies, beach, bickering, river, moor, lice. What next? Continue reading →
I have an old photo of me and my sister taken at the Jersey shore. We are two small children in the surf, holding onto something that looks like a tow rope at a ski slope, and the waves are swirling around our calves. We are lightly browned with shockingly blonde hair, and we are both squinting into the sun with huge smiles of delight.
I don’t remember the particular day that photo was taken, but I do recall other particulars of those summers. I remember my mom driving the three of us to the beach, with my sister and me sweating in the sweltering and sticky back seat of the Karmann Ghia, even with the windows rolled all the way down. I remember also how delicious a picnic tasted at the shore; peanut butter and jelly – despite the inevitable addition of sand – was so sweet and satisfying, potato chips seemed to be made deliciously saltier by the sea air, and fruit always seemed juicer when eaten on the beach blanket within the sound of the crashing waves. I remember reading on the beach, and then when I got too hot, bouncing around in the waves for hours, so that when I finally lay in my bed later that night, my body still seemed to sway with the power of the surf.
I like to believe that entire summers were made up of these moments, but I know that there were also days of idle boredom while Continue reading →
This morning, when I woke up to the blustery, rainy and grey weather, I decided to stay in bed a little longer. Then I realised that the clocks got turned ahead last night, to British Summer Time, so in fact it was an hour later than I thought. But the kids were still asleep, the cat was purring, and the Author was gently snoring beside me: so I was staying in bed. Then I let my mind wander, and I remembered these delicious little creamy balls of rice that had been soaking in honey-orange syrup all night. That got me up straightaway.
Apricots, garlic, rosemary and bread bring some zing to pork!
At the risk of sounding my age, when you’ve been around long enough, you begin to see certain patterns emerge in politics, fashion, and food. Everything old is new again, and right now, that means that meat is back on the literal and proverbial table.
One article (of the many I have been avidly reading) states: “[Meat] from free-range, grass-fed animals is a top source of conjugated linoleic acid, the micronutrient that reduces our risk of cancer, obesity and diabetes.” Continue reading →
One of the things I love best about where we live is the abundance of great local food, and nothing is more local than moorland bacon from our neighbour Sean and organic free-range eggs from our friends 1/4 mile down the lane.
Our little spot in the world. There’s good food to be had in those hills!
But my kids are weird about eggs. They’ll eat them in omelettes, but hate them in quiche. They’ll eat them in Salade Niçoise, but detest them in egg salad. Poached eggs are deemed “disgusting”, but I suppose it goes without saying that the kids don’t mind eggs in custard, or in cakes and in cookies. Continue reading →