Tag Archives: Pickle

Turkish Lamb Pizza & Moroccan Pickled Vegetables (or, How We Communicate)

lamb_pizza_and_pickled_veg

The Oldest has a penchant for hunting horns. None of us hunt, or even ride for that matter, but the horns have come in handy for one very specific reason: when the kids are outside mucking around, and the noise of the river is drowning out all means of communication, we blow on one of the horns, which can be heard all over the valley. Within minutes, the kids come swarming in from the fields. It’s amazing how well this works, and that they respond at all, being, er, at a certain age of independence.  Continue reading

Pickled Rose Petals (Or, Saying yes to allergies and beauty)

organic, old species fragrant roses

Saying Yes is often uncomfortable. But I’ve learned that things that intimidate me often end up being my greatest pleasure. I’ve found how much more in life there is to enjoy if I open myself up to a little bit of unease and discomfort.  (Hey, I didn’t like my first taste of gin, but like a good trouper, I kept at it …)

Right now I’m sitting next to a vase of the most fragrant, beautiful Old English roses. I love the smell, I love the look, I love the romance of roses. Roses make me feel elegant just looking at them.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

Even so, because of the roses, my nose is sniffling and my eyes are itching. But roses are something I always want to say yes to. So I have to say yes to hay fever as well.

I’ve heard that, when you have hay fever, you can rid yourself of it homoeopathically by eating a teaspoon of local honey every day for a year, kind of like a vaccine. So I’m hoping that pickling rose petals and having them throughout the winter will do something similar for me.   Continue reading