Thyme For Cooking, the Blog

Pesto Pasta Salad with Grilled Chicken; More Shopping

Note to self:  Don't forget to look for closet space!!!!!!

We sold our house.... We think.

Nothing is as easy here as it is in the U.S. 

Or as fast.

We've been trying to sell our house for 3 years.  Two weeks ago today we 'agreed a sale'.

Then we arranged for the house inspector to come.

Then France had a Thursday holiday, followed by a Monday holiday, which translates as a 1 week holiday because everyone who possibly can will 'faire le pont' , that is, 'make the bridge': take the intervening days off.

The contracts went to the buyer late last week.  He'll read them, sign them (we hope) and send them back.

Then we read them, sign and return them to him. 

Then he has 7 days to think about what he's about to do.

Then he sends us a deposit.

We accept the deposit.

THEN we have sold our house....maybe... Pretty sure, anyway.

At which time we'll know when the closing will be: July 31st or August 31st.

The earliest possible it can be is the end of July.  Any country property has to be offered to the Agricultural Commission for purchase at the agreed upon price.  They have 60 days to decide if they'll step in or not.  I've never heard of it happening, but there you have it... Must be done.

Once the 31st of July has passed, nothing can happen until the 31st of August because the entire world is on holiday.  No work gets done, anywhere.

Which means that, in case we actually sell, and, in case we actually close on July 31st, we have to find a place to live so we can move on July 31st.... And it's already too late because no one will take the job that close to August.  It could interfere with getting ready for the holiday.

So, we thought we just might start looking at houses today.

We looked at four.

I was on the third one before I remembered to look for closet space.

We're looking at older, country properties; stone houses.

Stone houses don't have closets.

If I want more than a 3' wide wardrobe to hang clothes in (sharing) there either needs to be a space for mon mari to build a closet (which he did in Andorra) or a tiny room that can be converted (which we did here - less you think I have a walk-in closet, it's only 30" wide by about 4' deep.  I slide along the wall with a flashlight in my teeth when I'm looking for something.)

On the other hand, one of them had really gorgeous old beams and an outdoor brick barbecue....

We'll be eating a lot of quick and easy pasta dishes over the next few weeks, while we find a new place to lay our heads (and paws).

Come to think of it, maybe a wee bit longer: there might be some odd packing to do.

Thankfully, there's always a lot of great dishes at Presto Pasta Nights, started by Ruth, of  Once Upon a Feast.  And here's my contribution to this week:

This is not the prettiest salad, pesto usually isn't... But the taste is wonderful: the feta and Greek Olives adding just the right amount of contrast to the chicken and pasta.

Pesto Pasta Salad with Grilled Chicken

2 chicken breasts, boneless, skinless
Marinade for chicken breasts:
1 tbs Worcestershire Sauce
1 tbs olive oil
1 tbs red wine vinegar
1 tsp dried basil

3oz (100gr) cherry tomatoes
3oz (100gr) feta
3oz (100gr) Greek or Kalamata olives
2 tbs fresh snipped chives

1 1/4 cups pasta: gemelli, fusilli, penne
2 tbs Greek or plain yogurt
4 tbs pesto
1 tbs olive oil, the good stuff

Cook pasta according to package instructions.
Mix Worcestershire, vinegar, basil and oil in a small bowl. Pour over chicken and allow to marinate a few minutes. Cut tomatoes in half. Cut feta into small cubes or crumble. Pit olives, if needed, and cut in half or thirds. Snip chives.
Cook chicken, either on barbecue grill or nonstick skillet, 7 - 10 minutes per side, or until done. When done, remove and slice
In pasta bowl, mix pesto, oil and yogurt. When pasta is done drain, rinse lightly with cool water, drain and add to pesto in bowl. Toss to coat. Add chicken, tomatoes, olives, feta and chives, toss gently to combine and serve.

Note to self: Don't forget to find out if the house has heating other than the fireplace.

Oriental Asparagus Salad; A Lovely Award for a Stupid Woman

First: the fun stuff:

I have been given this gorgeous award by not one, but two of my favorite bloggers:  Núria of Spanish Recipes and Neen and Do of Post-Collegiate Cooking à Deux.

It's called the Arte y Pico Award, after the blogger-craft artist in Uruguay  who created it.

The award is meant to honor creativity, interesting material and a contributing  blogger.

I'm meant to pass it on to 5 more (or would that be 10?) deserving bloggers.

I got out my list and went to work....  I had selected 12 bloggers before I got through the "C's". 

I can't decide.  All the blogs I read are wonderful - obviously, or I wouldn't read them. And, I wish I could read more of them more often but, life has a tendency to interfere. 

If you haven't read Spanish Recipes and Post-Collegiate Cooking à Deux go check them out!

Second: the stupid stuff:

Those of you who live in Europe, or have driven here, know that many of our small towns are blessed with narrow streets.  In some instances the wall of a house or other building is right on said narrow street.

These streets have curbs.  It is customary, when parking, to drive up and over the curb so as to get out of the way of traffic.  The curbs are designed to handle this.

It's common, when driving, to hit or go over the curb when meeting oncoming traffic in a tight spot, like when a large 'camion' (truck) comes careering around the corner at you.  This assumes, of course, that no one is parked in your way.  If there is, one normally slams on the brakes and allows the truck to pass by.

I've done it, mon mari does it, everyone I have ever ridden with does it.

Normally one barely notices the bump.

When the truck came swaying around the corner at me yesterday, I hit the wrong curb at the wrong angle....

And blew out 2 tires.

I did this, just leaving our little village, around 11:30 in the morning.

The only gas station/car repair garage is on the other side of the village.

Hoping against hope that someone would still be there I started walking.  It wasn't far, 1.5 -  2 kilometres. 

I was in luck! There were all sorts if people there.

Because they were having a party; food and wine everywhere.

After finally getting them to understand that I didn't want to bring in a tire for repair but wanted them to come and fix my 'broken' car, they agreed to help.  (Yeah, I know, it IS their business, but this is France, lunch comes first.)

They would come and get the tires right after lunch, sometime after 2:00. 

Everything closes up tight between 12 and 2, so I had nothing to do.  Window shopping?  Only one shop.

The only restaurant is a truck stop.  Apparently it's a good one, because there is a truck parking lot outside of town that's always full at noon.  (It's only 5 minutes off the motorway).  Somehow, I didn't think it appropriate to treat myself to lunch there....the only female, and alone, in the whole place.

I went back to the car and pondered my stupidity/bad luck/fate.

At 2:02 a small truck pulls up, a guy jumps out and makes short work of removing the tires. 

An hour later I'm back on my way, the proud owner of 2 new tires.

That I had neither wanted nor intended to buy.

Sigh......

As the song says: It was my own damn fault.

The worse thing about the whole incident was that all the green asparagus was gone by the time I got to the store.

I made do with violet.

And it was delicious.

  I just can't seem to stop eating asparagus this year, but it has been a good season. This week's host for Weekend Herb Blogging is Gay, from A Scientist in the Kitchen.  Be sure to visit her blog on Monday for the complete recap. If you want even more ideas check out the archives, at Kalyn's Kitchen.

Oriental Asparagus Salad

2 eggs, hard boiled
2oz (60gr) cherry tomatoes
greens for 2 small salads
8oz (250gr) violet, green or white
4 tsp soy sauce
1 tsp sugar
2 tsp sesame oil
Oriental Vinaigrette

The salad: Hard boil the eggs. Slice the tomatoes in half. Wash and spin dry the salad greens.
The asparagus: Snap off ends of asparagus. Roll cut asparagus in 1 inch (2.5 cm) lengths. Fill a large saucepan half full of water and bring to a boil over high heat. When boiling, drop in asparagus and parboil for 2 minutes. Drain and immediately rinse with cold water. Spread them on paper towels and pat dry. In a bowl big enough to nicely hold the asparagus, mix soy sauce, sugar and sesame oil. Add asparagus and toss lightly to coat. Set aside to marinate for 15 - 30 minutes.
To assemble: Put the greens into a bowl, add the vinaigrette and toss well to coat. Divide the lettuce between two plates. Peel and slice or quarter the eggs. Arrange the eggs and tomatoes around the lettuce. Divide the asparagus and arrange in the middle.

Oriental Vinaigrette

1 tsp soy sauce
1 tsp Balsamic vinegar
1/2 tsp Dijon-style mustard
2 tbs olive oil, the good stuff

Put soy sauce, vinegar and mustard in a small bowl and whisk to combine. Drizzle in the olive oil, whisking constantly.

Bon Weekend!

Healthier Taco Salad; Weekly Menu Plan; Bad is Better

What's the point in doing things the right way if one still gets the same bad result?

I mean, If being good and being bad both put me in the same exact place at the end of the day.... It's usually more fun to be bad...

I might as well enjoy the journey!

We had 'un petit orage' yesterday.

I know the drill. I've been mucking about with computers since the days of '1's and '0's!

I was in the middle of uploading files to my site and photos to my blog... But, as the thunder got closer and louder, I stopped.

I shut everything down, even disconnected the phone lines.  I was thorough, 'propre'.

Then, feeling very virtuous, I went out to the garage (with a good book) and rode my exercise bike for the 40 minute or so duration of the storm.

When the sun came out again I went back to my office, plugged everything in, fired it all up.... No internet.

I naturally assumed, since I had been so careful, it must be a France Telecom problem.  I called to explain this to them. 

I spent an hour working with a very nice young lady, who broke into impeccable English after I had fractured her ear with my bad French for 30 minutes, trying to ascertain the problem.   No luck, but I did get to spend a delightful interlude on the flour under my desk, plugging and unplugging, holding in reset buttons and watching the blinking lights.

She then transferred me to a different department and a different technician.

We spent another hour, determining that it was, indeed, a France Telecom problem.  (Why will they never believe me the first time?)

BTW: Someday, I'm going to have my computer, cables, routers, outlets, etc. on top of my desk rather than under it.

He then transferred my 'file' to another department who would fix the problem within 24 hours.   

They did.  When I finally returned from a day that truly 'tried my soul', it was working.  Magic!

And so, I finally get to finish yesterday's work:

'Healthier' Taco Salad

8oz (250gr) ground beef (mince) or turkey
1/3 cup brown rice
2/3 cup chicken stock
1 small onion
1/2 green or red pepper
2 cloves garlic
1 small can chopped green chilies (4oz, 125gr)
1 tbs olive oil
1 tsp chili powder
3oz (100gr) cherry tomatoes about 1/2 cup before slicing
1 avocado
2 jars taco sauce, hot or mild or both
1/2 cup (2oz, 60gr) shredded cheese - your choice
Lettuce/greens - enough for 2 main meal salads

Cook brown rice according to package directions.
Chop onions and green pepper. Mince garlic. Heat oil in nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add chili powder and sauté briefly (30 seconds). Add onion and pepper and sauté for 5 minutes. Add garlic, turkey/beef and chilies and continue cooking until meat is done. Add taco sauce - you want the meat mixture to be thick so don't add all of the sauce if it's not needed - serve the rest on the side. Take meat mixture off heat. When rice is done remove from heat. Slice tomatoes and avocado. Tear the lettuce and arrange on plates. Divide rice and put on lettuce, divide meat mixture and put on rice. Top with shredded cheese. Artfully arrange tomato and avocado slices around salad and serve with any remaining salsa. Mon mari always adds some sliced jalapeños to his but that is too hot for me.

In addition to the above, for the week of May 16, we have Oriental Asparagus Salad, Grilled Teriyaki Swordfish, Pasta with Peanut Sauce, Cornish Game Hens from the Barbecue, Pesto Pasta Salad with Grilled Chicken, and more...

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Bon Weekend!

Chicken with Spanish Rice; How to buy 2 potatoes

I've been wanting to participate in Gay's (A Scientist in the Kitchen), Market Event, but, frankly, our markets are kind of boring up here in the Vendée.

Could be all the rain.

The markets we went to in Spain were all outdoors, taking over most of the streets and plazas in the village.

They were loud, bustling, raucous affairs, teaming with shoppers, people meeting and chatting, kids running and dogs barking

Here they are all indoors, in purpose-built pavilions.

And, being French, everything is very neatly stacked, arranged,.... Even the shoppers are 'propre'!

So rather than waxing eloquently about the wonders of my market, let me tell you about my own, somewhat slow, learning process, taking me from the giant supermarkets to the small veggie stall.

In the U.S. people buy big (Costco); here they buy small.

Even at the farmer's market I went to in Minneapolis, things were often for sale in large quantities - bushels of tomatoes, peck's of beans.

It's taken years to break myself of the 'sack of potatoes' habit when I buy food.

I'm feeding two people.  We have potatoes once or twice a week.  What am I going to do with a 10lb (5 kilo) or even a 5lb bag of potatoes?

For a long time, I just couldn't convince me that it was okay to buy in small quantities.

That it didn't say bad things about me as a person if I only wanted/needed 6 olives.

That it didn't reflect negatively on my status in the world, my disposable income, my ability to provide sustenance for my family, my capabilities as a 'femme du foyer'  (housewife) or the size of my penis (Just seeing if you're paying attention...)

At the markets here (at least in France and Spain) one does not touch the merchandise.  The vendor will pick out your fruits and vegetables for you.  You tell them what and how much you want and trust them to choose.  If it's a perishable item, like an avocado or a melon, you also tell them what day you will be eating it so they can select appropriately.  They do know their stuff, after all.

I always felt that, if they we're going to do all this work for me, I should make it worth their while, and buy lots.

Then, one hot summer afternoon in Spain, I popped into a small market to buy a bottle of water.

All I wanted was 1 bottle of water. 

I was there for 20 minutes.

There was a woman in the shop already, doing a bit of shopping.  I watched as she bought (as best as I remember):
    4 thin slices of salami, which had to be cut
    4 thin slices of ham, which had to be cut
    3 thin slices of some bologna-type sausage, which had to be cut
    8 thin slices of chorizo, which had to be cut
    4 thin slices of Manchego cheese, which had to be cut
    1/2 of a very small goat's milk cheese
    1 small wedge of a soft cheese
    1 spoonful of fromage frais
    1 chicken breast
    2 pork chops
    1 baguette
    1 avocado
    1 tomato
    a small handful of strawberries
    1/2 head of broccoli
    2 containers of yogurt

Well, you get the idea... Everything was carefully sliced, cut, weighed, and wrapped by the shop owner, with a smile and a "What else".

I would have bought a lb of some kind of cured meat, a whole chicken, a slab of cheese and a bag of oranges.

I would have ended up without nearly the variety and, probably, with lots of waste.

I still have to really force myself, and I often end up with a bit more than I intended, but I can now buy 2 potatoes, or 3 apples, or 8 strawberries, or 6 olives....

The biggest challenge in cooking for one or two or three, is not the cooking; it's the shopping!

And the planning to use up all the odd bits....

Here 's my last cool weather dish for those of you still waiting for spring - or anticipating winter - in memory of the lesson learned in that little shop in the village.

Chicken Breasts with Spanish Rice

2 chicken breasts, boneless, skinless
1 onion
1/3 green bell pepper
1/3 red bell pepper
2 cloves garlic
1 tsp chili powder
1/2 cup brown rice
1 can whole tomatoes, 15 oz (450gr)
1/4 - 3/4 cup chicken stock or water
2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tbs olive oil

Chop onion and peppers. Mince garlic. Cut chicken breasts in half.  Heat oil in deep skillet over medium heat. Add chicken breasts, and brown on both sides, about 5 minutes each. Remove to a plate. Add chili powder, onion, pepper, and garlic. Sauté for 5 minutes. Open tomatoes and drain liquid into a bowl. Chop the tomatoes and drain again. Add drained tomatoes, Worcestershire sauce and rice to pan. Measure the drained liquid and add enough water or chicken stock to equal 1 cup (or however much liquid your rice package calls for). Pour this over the rice/vegetables in the skillet and stir well to combine. Lay the chicken breasts on top of the rice and cover. Reduce heat to simmer and cook until rice is done. Mine took 20 minutes - check rice package. Stir occasionally while cooking. When done, serve - either from the pan or arrange nicely on a platter.

Check out all the markets at A Scientist in the Kitchen right after the end of May.

Asparagus and Chevre Quiche; Tiptoeing thru the Tulips

Did you know that one cannot limp on both legs at the same time?

I know that.

Now: Do as I say; not as I do.

The most important thing I tell anyone coming to Europe is to wear comfortable shoes. 

They don't have to be sensible... But they do have to be comfortable.

Wandering the beautiful, Monet-designed gardens of Giverny...  I ran out of Bandaids (plasters).

And I was ever so grateful that my anal-retentive little self always has a stash in my bag.

Next time it will be a bigger stash.

In my defense I did bring my most comfortable pair of walking shoes fit to be worn in public.

In my stupidity/chronic lateness/everything at the last moment/procrastination I did not wear them a few times first.

They're not new.  They're old, comfortable, well-worn favorites.

It's just that I so seldom wear proper shoes that my feet balk at the idea when I do.

I spend the winter wearing felt clogs inside and rubber Wellie clogs outside.

I spend the summer wearing nothing inside and rubber Wellie sandals outside.

My feet are spoiled.

The hour or two I spend, a few times a week out in public, wearing, er, 'better' clogs or sandals (this is farm country, not Paris) hardly counts.

My feet are not accustomed to the confines of proper shoes.

I had blisters on my heels.

I had blisters on my toes (open-toe shoes - it's summer... And Giverny is only an hour from Paris.  I have some standards - or, at least, I did.)

I had blisters on my blisters.

I left a trail of Bandaid wrappers.

I walked the last bit barefoot....Ahhhhhh!

But, I did not miss a nook or cranny.

I want to go back every week for the rest of the year.

I want to become an artist in residence... even if I'm not any good.

I want to sit in the gardens and stare and paint and draw....even if I'm not any good.

I want to lay on the wisteria covered bridge and look through the flowers to the sky.

I want to sit in the Japanese Gardens and eat foie gras and sip rosé.

Even with bloody feet.

After the foie gras, maybe a nice quiche.

I've been on a quiche-kick lately.

With a brown-rice crust they're a snap to make, and much healthier than the traditional pastry crust.

Perfect for a Mother's Day Brunch.

And, how could I let asparagus season pass without just one more Asparagus Quiche?  It seemed like such an appropriate entry for Weekend Herb Blogging, this week: it's being hosted by Laurie of Mediterranean Cooking in Alaska.  Stop by her blog on Monday for the complete round-up. If you want to look at the Weekend Herb Blogging archives, visit Kalyn, of Kalyn's Kitchen,  the founder  of this great event.

Asparagus.

What says spring better than asparagus!

Besides being full of vitamins, minerals and low in calories, it is a natural diuretic, and contains a carbohydrate that, while indigestible to us, is a favorite of all the health-promoting bacteria living in our gut. We do want healthy guts, don't we.... Hmmm?

Asparagus and Chevre (Goat Cheese) Quiche 

The Crust: 
2 cups cooked brown rice
1/4 cup shredded cheese (1 oz, 30 gr)
1 egg



The Filling:
4 - 5 thin slices, (3oz, 100gr) Prosciutto
6 - 8oz (250gr) asparagus, trimmed
4 - 5oz (125 - 150gr) chevre (goat cheese) the kind that comes in a log with a white (edible) rind
2 tbs snipped fresh chives
2 tbs snipped fresh basil
2 - 3 tomatoes, depending on size I used 2 very long roma tomatoes
3 eggs
1 cup milk

The crust: Cook brown rice according to package directions. Can be done ahead or the day before. If rice is just cooked, spread it on a plate to cool for 5 minutes before adding to egg. Oil a 9" (22 cm) pie or quiche plate. Lightly whisk 1 egg. Add 1/4 cup of cheese and the cooked rice. Mix well. Pat into the quiche plate, working it up the sides as best you can. Bake in 400F (200C) oven for 10 minutes. Remove and set aside.

The filling: Trim asparagus, snapping off tough ends. Cut into 1" (2.5cm) lengths. Heat water in a saucepan over high heat. When boiling, add asparagus and blanch for 3 minutes. Drain and refresh under cold water. Dry on paper towels.
Snip herbs. Slice tomatoes and goat cheese. Cut Prosciutto into large pieces.
In medium bowl whisk 3 eggs well. Add milk and whisk to combine.

To assemble: Lay Prosciutto evenly over the bottom of the crust. Lay the goat cheese on top. Sprinkle with herbs. Lay the tomatoes on top of the herbs and top with the asparagus. Pour the egg mixture over all and bake for 40 minutes. (Check after 30) Let stand 5 minutes before serving.

Note: I put the quiche/pie plate on a pizza pan before pouring the egg/milk over. Makes it easier to get into the oven and catches any drips and spills - saving oven clean-up.

You can rest assured that you will never see me in a pair of $700.00 Manolo Blahnik stiletto sandals.

Or a pair of $50.00 Target stiletto sandals.

More about Giverny tomorrow....

Spinach Salad with Chicken and Quinoa; Saturday Lunch

It's Saturday.

Every Saturday, in the village of Sant Julià de Lòria, Andorra, there is a group of people meeting for lunch at El Principat, more familiarly know as Ramon's

It's not a formal group.  Anyone can show up and be welcomed, anytime.

There is only one rule: the gathering is for English speakers only, though not necessarily as a first language.

We went once a month.

The group can range from 4 to 30 and include British, American, Dutch, Spanish, French, Andorran, Belgian, German, Scandinavian, Irish, and other assorted unknown 'English speakers'. 

People start straggling in around noon for coffee or a drink at the bar.  At 1:30 a nose count is taken and Ramon is informed of the number.  The table is set-up in the dining room and around 2:00 the group slowly meanders in. 

Ramon walks by, depositing 1 bottle of red wine in front of every two people.  A few bottles of white and maybe, just maybe, a bottle of water or two fill in the middle.

Ramon, yellow post-it note in hand, starts taking the order. 

Now, his menu only offers a choice of six starters and six main courses.  It hasn't changed in 10 years and the same people come for lunch most Saturday's. 
Still, some are always unsure what to order.  A discussion in many languages ensues (no, the 'bacalao' is halibut, not cod... You're wrong, it's monkfish.  What's merluza again?)

Ramon is from Paraguay and speaks Spanish and Catalan (Andorra's official language); the group orders in Spanish, Catalan, French or English depending on which names have been learned for the food. 

Periodically Ramon plops another bottle of red on the table. 

A couple of hours of eating, talking, mild arguments and bland jokes follow (much the same as the week before - thus our monthly as opposed to weekly attendance). 

Around 4:00 Ramon starts sweeping the floors and putting up the chairs - a not-so-subtle hint. 

The bill is asked for.

It's presented - one number scrawled on a post-it note. 

A new price is established each January, but for the rest of the year it stays the same, regardless of how many bottles of wine are consumed and how many peach schnapps are served with coffee. 

Still, the calculator comes out and after several minutes of serious discussions, recounting of noses and frantic punching of buttons, the individual tab is announced. 

This week?  Same as last week, and the week before, and the one before that...

Last time we had lunch at Ramon's it was a whopping 8.45 euros per person, including tip.  It's probably up to 9.25 by now, it's been 4 years.

Everyone carefully counts out the exact change and all toddle out the door for a nice siesta before dinner.

As I spent this morning digging moss out of the rocks and herbs in my garden, I realized how very much I miss lunch at Ramon's....

On the other hand, being in the garden means that salad season is here. 
It's too early for fresh lettuce in my area, but the spinach has been beautiful.

Spinach is packed full of vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants.  It is known to promote cardiovascular health, prevent prostate and ovarian cancers, and slow the loss of mental agility.  But the two big benefits, for me, are it's ability to promote strong bones and strong eyes.

Popeye was really onto something....although, I prefer mine fresh.

Toss in some quinoa, and we have a near perfect meal, and my entry for this week's edition of Weekend Herb Blogging, started by Kalyn, of Kalyn's Kitchen and hosted this week by Anh, of Food Lover's Journey.  Stop by her blog on for complete round-up from around the world!

Spinach Salad with Chicken, Quinoa and Avocado

2 chicken breasts, boneless, skinless
2 tbs teriyaki marinade
Fresh spinach  6oz (180gr)
1/3 cup quinoa
2/3 cup chicken stock
1 avocado
1/3 cup walnut halves
1 tbs snipped fresh chives 
1 tbs snipped fresh basil
Vinaigrette

Pour marinade over chicken and set aside.
Combine quinoa and stock in small saucepan. Cover and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer until done, about 15 minutes (or whatever your package says).
Cook chicken on barbecue grill over direct heat for 8 - 10 minutes per side. When done remove and slice. Or cut into strips, toss with teriyaki sauce and stir-fry in nonstick skillet in 1 tbs oil for 4 - 5 minutes.
Slice avocado. then cut it into large cubes. Snip herbs.
Wash and spin-dry spinach if needed.  Tear any large leaves.
To assemble: Prepare spinach and put into large salad bowl along with the herbs. Toss with about half of the vinaigrette - be careful not to use too much to start. Fluff the quinoa and spoon it around the spinach. Toss lightly to distribute. Add chicken, avocado and walnuts. Toss lightly. Taste, add more vinaigrette if needed, and serve, any remaining vinaigrette on the side.

Oriental Vinaigrette

1 tbs soy sauce
1 tbs Balsamic wine vinegar
1/2 tsp Dijon-style mustard
4 tbs olive oil - the good stuff

In a small bowl whisk vinegar, soy sauce and mustard. Slowly whisk in olive oil.

Note: We only used about 2/3 of the vinaigrette - but we like lightly dressed salads.

Note 2:  This is another, slightly reworked, post from the archives - actually one of my first, back in the beginning of time.... You may have missed it ;-)).  One must make hay (or in my case, pull weeds) while the sun shines...

Pasta with Goat Cheese (Chevre) Sauce; the Week That Was!

Last week it was lovely: warm, sunny, calm; balmy, even.  Perfect late spring weather.

I gently suggested to mon mari that, perhaps, just maybe, he should check the level of the heating fuel.

He, in his infinite wisdom and dramatically superior knowledge of all things, said: "Non".

Of course it would not be necessary.

Or course there was plenty of fuel.

I needn't worry my pretty, little head about such manly matters.

This week, with the wind howling, the sleet and hail beating against the windows, the temperatures dropping to the worst of winter, we ran out of fuel.

Usually, I rather enjoy being right.

No fuel means no heat.

And no hot water.

Not much enjoyment there!

Thankfully, my French has progressed to the point that I could sound sufficiently pathetic on the phone.  They managed to fit in a delivery later the next day.

My French has also progressed to the point that I managed to explain to Madame (the mother in this family run business) that "I had told mon mari last week....."

That may have helped more than my pathetic, freezing  plight... 
She understood the situation, completely!

Unfortunately, for mon mari, I have the proverbial 'memory like a steel trap'.

Not that I'd ever mention the incident again.... 

What with no electricity one day and no heat or hot water another, it's been an interesting week here in the Vendée.

Like the Chinese curse: May you live in interesting times.

One of the things I am currently interested in, now that the green garlic has disappeared, is how many ways I can use goat cheese.

One of my (over 200) cookbooks is 'The Book of Sauces'.  This recipe is very loosely based on one of theirs.  I mean, they do have goat cheese in common.... And pasta.

Which qualifies it for Presto Pasta Nights, started over a year ago by Ruth, of  Once Upon a Feast.  Visit her blog on Friday, to see all of the wonderful pastas.

Pasta with Goat Cheese Sauce
   serves 2

1 cup farfalle
1/2 box (2.5oz, 75gr) soft chevre (goat cheese) (the little cartons of creamy goat cheese, 5oz (150gr) Chavrie in the U.S., Chevraux in Europe)
1/4 chicken stock
2 tbs fresh snipped chives
cherry tomatoes

Cook pasta according to package directions. Drain.
While pasta cooks: Heat stock in a small saucepan. Add goat cheese and chives, and stir until cheese is melted. Pour over pasta and serve....
With a few cherry tomato halves on top ...

I realize this is an incredibly difficult recipe, but, give it a go... You'll be glad you did!

In other news, I am now getting offers in French (as well as English) to help 'increase my rod', 'keep my women happy all night', etc.   And, occasionally in German...

Isn't life grand?

Smoked Salmon and Goat Cheese Risotto; Excellent!?

I spent 3 hours wandering aimlessly around my house yesterday afternoon.

As many of you know (you readers....) I have been outrageously busy lately, barely enough time to eat and sleep. 

So what am doing, doing nothing?

Poor planning.

The first thing I do in the morning, when I wake up, is a quick run through of my day: what I need to get done, what I hope to get done, and the order that I'm going to tackle it all in.

Thus, I found myself hoovering the floor at 1:35, in the middle of a desperately need, albeit  cursory, house-cleaning, carefully scheduled for the afternoon, when the vacuum died.

I, immediately, went to yell at ask  mon mari what the problem was...

Before I found him, I remembered a letter I had received 2 weeks earlier from EDF (electric company).  It was still sitting on my desk, buried in the clutter.

It was to inform me that there would be no electricity between the hours of 1:30 and 4:30 on this Monday.

Had I remembered, I could have vacuumed first, then done the none-electrical-requiring cleaning bits. 

Had I remembered, I could have done the weekly shopping.

Had I remembered, I could have done any number of things differently.

Had it not been raining, I could have simply moved my cleaning urges into the garden.

As it was, I had nothing.  There was so much to be done, I couldn't just settle down with a good book and take advantage of the situation.  Besides, I hadn't planned on reading...  It wasn't scheduled....

I seriously need to take a look at my life.  There is something wrong when I can't take advantage of 3 hours free time to just do nothing, to play; have fun.  Life is short, I know this.

I need a break....

I'll try to pencil one in.

Enough pondering, back to work:

Margot, of Coffee and Vanilla, was so sweet last week:  She received the much-deserved 'Excellent' award and was kind enough to pass it along to me! 

Thank you, thank you Margot!
It just what I have been needing lately: a pat on the back.

Maybe, once we have several successive days of sunshine, my world will suddenly right itself. 

And we can get into some serious summer cooking.

In honor of yet another rainy day, I have the perfect comfort food and one last risotto for the season.

Be warned: this is seriously decadent!

Be cheered: this is seriously healthy decadent!

Let's see:
Small amount of fish = fish is good.
Small amount of goat cheese, lower in calories and fat then cow cheese = goat cheese is good.
Generous amount of spinach = spinach is good

Smoked Salmon and Goat Cheese (Chevre)  Risotto  Serves 2

1/2 cup plus 2 tbs Arborio rice (or other rice specifically for risotto - Carnaroli or Vialone Nano)
1/2 cup dry, white wine
2 cups plus 2 tbs chicken or fish stock
1 onion
5oz (150gr) smoked salmon
3oz (90gr) chevre, goat cheese (the creamy kind in the little square carton, in Europe it's Chevraux, in the U.S. Chavrie)
2oz (60gr) spinach
1/4 cup fresh, snipped chives
1 tbs fresh snipped tarragon
1 tbs olive oil
1/3 cup Parmesan cheese - freshly grated This is important! Trust me on this. Don't be tempted.....

Heat chicken stock and keep hot over low heat. Finely chop onion. Slice salmon into strips.  Slice spinach into thick strips. In medium sauce pan heat oil; add onion and sauté 5 minutes, until starting to get tender. Add rice and sauté, stirring, for 2 - 3 minutes until rice has white center. Add white wine and stir. When wine is almost absorbed add a 1/2 cup of stock and stir. (No need to stir constantly but do stir from time to time.) When stock is almost absorbed add another 1/2 cup and continue adding 1/2 cup at a time and stirring. Before the last 1/4 cup is added taste a few kernels of rice. They should be just 'al dente' - slightly resistant to the tooth but fully cooked. If more stock is needed add it 1/8 cup at a time and waiting until almost completely absorbed. At this point risotto will be thick but not stiff - it will not hold it's shape on a plate. If you cook it until it's stiff it will be dry. Stir in the goat cheese and spinach, and heat through.  Stir in the smoked salmon, herbs and  Parmesan, pour into a platter and serve immediately. It will continue to absorb liquid and by the time you pour the wine will be perfect!  The risottos that we have eaten in northern Italy have all been served in soup plates (flattish bowls) and eaten with a spoon - not a fork.

Sorry folks - you can keep your 'mac and cheese'.

There were no leftovers.

New Potatoes with Rosemary and Olives; Croissants on the Garden Gate

Remember all of those money-raising schemes we endured as children?

Selling magazines that nobody wanted?

Peddling chocolate bars and 'white almond bark' during the already sugar-bloated holidays?

Passing off 'genuine bees-wax candles' that burned for 50 seconds and left puddles of wax everywhere?

Somehow, at least here in the back of beyond, the French have figured out the proper way to handle these fund-raising rights of passage.

I have actually been waiting for several weeks for the kids to come around for their annual sale.

They finally did: last week.

And, this morning, around 8:00, they delivered.

Oh not to the door, mind you. 

This is France.  The Sunday morning 'lie-in' is sacred.  No one would dream of disturbing a French household on a Sunday morning anytime before 10... or, maybe 11.

The young lads asked where they should leave the delivery.  Normally they would just put it on the window ledge (remember, we have 18" walls), but they know that would wake the dogs, so they left it tucked in the gate.

This morning, while the coffee was brewing, I walked the 20 feet to the garden gate and came back with these freshly baked, flaky croissants and pan au chocolate.

We may not be able to get a pizza delivered, or have anywhere to go for Chinese take-out, but I'll take 'croissants on the garden gate' any day.

Even if it's only once a year....

Speaking of gardens, my herb garden is coming back to life: the oregano and marjoram is big enough to start cutting; the thyme and lemon thyme are all showing signs of new growth; the chives and garlic chives are well up and getting ready for their first flowering.

And that year-round work horse, the rosemary is having a spring growth spurt.

Rosemary is widely used in Mediterranean cooking and is classically paired with lamb and pork.

It is thought to boost the immune system and stimulate memory.

When I lived in Minnesota, I planted it every  summer (because it froze every winter) and used it sparingly.

Here I have a whole bush and use it with abandon.

I toss whole sprigs on the charcoals to impart a smoky, rosemary flavor to grilled meats, use the branches as skewers for kebabs, and put it into just about anything.

I (and the Greeks) particularly like it paired with olives.

I have another simple dish for this week's edition of Weekend Herb Blogging, started by Kalyn, of Kalyn's Kitchen and hosted this week by Margot of Coffee and Vanilla.  Be sure to visit Margot on Monday for the round-up!

I may have mentioned rosemary in past Weekend Herb Blogging posts : Braised Potatoes with Rosemary and Roast Lamb with Garlic and Rosemary to name two...

New Potatoes with Rosemary and Olives

10 - 15 new potatoes
1- 2 sprigs fresh rosemary
8 - 10 olives any color or combination
1/3 cup white wine

Lightly wash potatoes but leave whole. Put everything into a small saucepan. Cover and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, gently for 15 minutes. Uncover and continue cooking for another 15 - 25 minutes, depending on size, until potatoes are done. Stir occasionally. When done, a knife should go in easily and the wine should have reduced to a thick syrup.

I can't take these complicated recipes and challenging breakfasts.... I'm going to go have a nap!

Bon Dimanche!

Asparagus with Quail Eggs; Eating an Orange with a Fork

Tripping down the Primrose Path... In my herb garden.

According to the Etiquette Mavens, the only two foods it is acceptable for one to eat with one's fingers are asparagus (without sauce) and bacon (crisp). 

The only time I have ever seen asparagus eaten with fingers was at a rather proper dinner party in Andorra... By the same people that I had seen, on many occasions, eating an orange with a knife and fork.

Nothing trips us up so surely, when trying to fit into another culture, as the things we think we know;

The absolutes that we grew up with;

The habits that are so ingrained that it would not even occur to us that someone could do it differently.

Here are 2 areas I have found, er, interesting:

     1. Having inedible bits in the food.

In the U.S. one thinks of broken teeth and lawsuits if encountering something unexpected in the food we eat.

Yet, in London I was served a Pheasant Terrine, at the Ritz no less, and told to 'mind the buckshot'. 

I did.  I found at least a dozen of the tiny pellets.  It was, after all, a wild pheasant terrine.... How did I think they got the bird... Put salt on its tail?

Pizzas served in Europe often come with a few whole black olives.  Mind the pits.

Cherry Clafoutis is a classic spring dessert here in France.  In a proper clafoutis the cherries still have the stones intact.  It adds more flavor.  Mind the stones.

You might find a jar of homemade plum preserves on your breakfast table at a B & B.  Mind the stones.

     2. Figuring out how to eat the food.

Mussels

They're everywhere in the summer.  Here are 2 tips: 

Do not order mussels unless they are written on the chalkboard as the special of the day.  You only get decent mussels in restaurants with chalkboards, and, if they're not the special, they're not fresh.

You eat mussels by using the half shell of one as your eating implement, to loosen and scoop the othrer mussels into your mouth.  Choose a nice large shell as your tool.

Fruit

Very common in summer, especially  in Spain, to have a piece of fruit for dessert.  Whatever you order: apple, banana, peach, orange, it will be brought to you whole, on a plate with a knife and fork.  If it needs to be peeled, you do so by holding with the fork, and removing the peel with the knife.  Alternatively, you can cut the fruit in half, and then cut out wedges of the flesh with the knife and eat with the fork.  You do not touch it with your fingers.  This allows for very leisurely meals.  It took me forever to eat my first orange....

Sandwiches

At a gas station, eat with your hands.  At a restaurant, unless they are tiny, 'finger' sandwiches, you eat them with a knife and fork.  Again, leisurely meals.

Bread

Break off a bite-size piece with your fingers, and eat it.  Butter is not normally provided unless you're in a restaurant that caters to American or British tourists - and why would you be there?

Cheese

This can vary.  Be guided by the implements given you. 
If you only have a knife: break off a small piece of bread.  Slice a small piece of cheese and put it on the bread, using your knife.  Eat in one bite. (It should be small enough to fit in your mouth).
If you have a knife and fork:  Eat the cheese with knife and fork, the bread separately as above.

And you can eat your asparagus with your fingers...unless it has Hollandaise....

White asparagus is the preferred and prized variety here.  The big, fat spears are sold individually and you have to be early to get the best.

We grew up with, and like the green, which is not often available.

Then we discovered the perfect compromise: violet.  It has a purplish tint to the tip, is slimmer than the white, cooks as fast and is as tender as the green.  It normally does not require peeling.  And it's more readily available than the green.

Asparagus is chock a-block with vitamins: K, C, A, the B's, Folate; and minerals: potassium, iron, zinc, selenium, and more.

It's good, it's healthy, it's spring.... And I pity all of you who don't like it!

It's also my submission to Weekend Herb Blogging, the two-year-old brainchild of Kalyn, of Kalyn's Kitchen which is being hosted this week by Jugalbandi.  Visit their site on Monday for the complete re-cap.

Asparagus with Quail Eggs, for two

6oz (200gr) asparagus, 12 thin or 8 large spears
6 quail eggs (or 2 chicken eggs)
2 tsp olive oil or butter
Vinaigrette

Snap off ends of asparagus. If your asparagus is very thick or it’s white, use vegetable peeler and peel the bottom half of stalk. Put into a skillet big enough to hold them without cutting, add water to cover bottom by 1/4 inch, cover and bring to boil. Lower heat and cook just until done, 8 - 12 minutes, longer for white, adding a bit of water as needed. Remove and keep warm. Heat oil or butter in a nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add eggs and fry until the whites are set. They are meant to be 'sunny-side up' - which is: whites set, yolks runny.....or cook them however you like them. Drizzle a bit of vinaigrette on half of a plate. Lay asparagus out nicely on top. Put three quail eggs (or 1 chicken egg) on the other half of the plate. Salt & pepper eggs if you like and serve, any remaining vinaigrette on the side.

Vinaigrette

1 tsp Dijon-style mustard
2 tsp tarragon wine vinegar
1/2 tsp dried tarragon
3 tbs olive oil, the good stuff

Whisk mustard and vinegar. Slowly drizzle in oil, whisking constantly. Add tarragon, whisk well.

You can eat this with your fingers to start... Dipping the tips in the eggs.  You might want to finish with a fork...

Bon Weekend!

Spaghetti with Pesto Meatballs; Still Eating Horses....

How would you like your horse?  Medium rare?

When we first moved to Ireland,  I remember there being a bit of a flap in England about joining the European Union and having to export their prized hunting stallions to France to be eaten. 

I don’t remember the particulars but do remember wondering if an Arabian was better than a Palomino. 

After moving to Andorra I realized that the whole bit had apparently been blown up by the tabloids….In Andorra they raise ‘food horses’ (lots) and riding horses (not so many) and, at least to my untrained eye, there is a difference. 

The food horses are grazed in the high pastures like the sheep and goats.  They are stocky animals: short legs, big bodies, big hooves, and don’t appear any more domesticated than the goats and sheep they graze with.

I will say, however, that being on the bare face of a mountainside, and having a flock of sheep come over the rise is fun.
Seeing a drove of goats come over the rise is interesting.
Hearing a herd of wild 'food' horses thundering over the rise, with the herder shouting and cracking a long whip, is absolutely terrifying!

Back to the food:  the meat is exported mainly to France and Spain, with only a small amount sold locally - pork and lamb being favored in Andorra.

You will find it in the shops and on menus, particularly in rural areas, both horse and colt. 

Oh, and the riding horses are kept in stables and fed apples by hand – just like everywhere else.

Europeans, in general, know that meat was once an actual animal, and are okay with that.  They have no problem enjoying all of it.  It's common to see a plate of pig's feet at the table next to you at lunch. Pig ears (real ones) are great dog treats!  We were told not to accept dinner invitations in Ireland on a Tuesday because that was 'tripe' (stomach lining) day and I often hear my British friends raving about the tongue they had at so and so's.

I, on the other hand come from a squeamish background. 

I like what I eat to have food names: chops, steaks, roast; rather than vital body-part names: lung, heart, tongue, brains. 

Don't get me wrong, I have eaten my share of non-standard fare.  I grew up in the Midwest where hunting is common, (although by the time I saw any of the meat it was cooked and on the table).  I have eaten: squirrel, rabbit, raccoon (only once, eww..), venison, buffalo and all sort of birds.  In the southwest I was convinced to try rattlesnake and in Florida, 'gator. 

Trust me, the only thing that tastes like chicken is chicken! 

I am not totally lacking in culinary courage - I just don't want to eat intestines...or brains...or glands...or tongues.

Plus, I don't know how to eat a pig foot....Pick it up and gnaw?  Knife and fork...how does one cut a hoof?  Does one eat all of it? 

Is that why there are so many dogs in European restaurants (slip it under the table to the family garbage can)?

For the record I have, unintentionally, eaten sweetbreads (quite tasty), kidneys (I'll pass), horse (kind of sweet but very lean and tender), kid (flavor was good but texture strange), tripe (no comment) and haggis (lots of whisky - and I like it!) and more parts of pig than I really want to know about.

And foie gras?  That's a classification all to itself: Nectar of the Gods!

(I'm taking a hint from Lydia, of A Perfect Pantry, who made a comment recently that sometimes, in order to stay sane, we bloggers need to take a wee break and do a reprint of an older post.  This is from one done in the early days of my blog, with modifications, of course.  I never could leave anything alone... The photo is new...)   

And the food is new....

We just can't seem to break away from winter this year. 

We have a bit of spring and think it's time to get the barbecue out.

Then the rains come back and we are lighting fires every night again.

Thus I had half of a container of pesto in the fridge.  It had been meant for a salad but, as that didn't appear to be happening anytime soon, it ended up in the meatballs.

So, sorry Ruth: I'm back to winter cooking this week!

Be sure to visit  Once Upon a Feast, on Friday, for the Presto Pasta Night recap!  Maybe someone else will have salads....

Spaghetti with Pesto Meatballs 

12 oz ground beef (350 gr mince)
3 tbs bread crumbs
3 tbs pesto
1 tbs red wine
1 egg
Sauce
1 can crushed tomatoes, 15 oz (450gr)
1 can tomato sauce, 8oz (250ml)
1 onion
2 cloves garlic
1 tsp dried basil
1 tsp dried oregano
2 bay leaves
1 tsp paprika
1 tbs olive oil
spaghetti, with basil or spinach is nice
2 - 3 tbs Parmesan for sprinkling

Cook pasta according to package directions.
Lightly beat egg with a fork. Add pesto, bread crumbs, wine and mix well. Add beef, mix well. Form into meatballs, about 1 1/2" (5cm) in diameter.
Roughly chop onion and mince garlic. In large nonstick skillet heat oil over medium heat. Add paprika and sauté briefly. Add onions and garlic. Sauté until tender and onion is transparent, 7 - 8 minutes. Add tomatoes, sauce and herbs. Heat to a simmer. Drop the meatballs in carefully, trying to keep them separate. Cover and simmer until meatballs are done, about 15 minutes. Stir once or twice.
When pasta is done, drain and put into a large bowl. Pour meatballs and sauce over the top, remove bay leaf, sprinkle with Parmesan and serve.

Mon mari just saw a bit on the telly about a restaurant in China that specializes in dog.  Apparently brown dogs are preferred (sorry, Sedi) with black dogs being acceptable and white dogs the least favored (lucky Emma).

I don't think I'll go there.

Chicken and Spinach Pasta: The Visit of the Ham Truck

One of my favorite passages ever put on paper was written by Bill Bryson.

I think it was in "Notes from a Small Island".

To summarize it briefly, he writes about being all alone, in the kitchen of his house in the country, early one morning. 

No one's around.  No one is expected.  It's private.

He's in his underwear; he starts doing things people do when they're all alone:
    He turns the radio on full blast.
    Dances wildly, arms waving.
    Plays air guitar.
    Belches loudly, going for a new personal best.
    Farts loudly, to the music, going for a new personal best.
    Sings to his coffee cup.
    Scratches wherever it itches.

All of a sudden he notices the post (mail) on the kitchen table, just behind him. 

It hadn't been there a few minutes earlier.

Unbeknownst to him, the postman had come into the kitchen, quietly, delivered the mail, and gone.

I laughed so hard I cried.  I still smile whenever I think about it.

But, now I understand just how easy it can happen.

When one lives out in the country, (the sticks, the boondocks, the middle of nowhere) one can forget some of the former trappings of civilization.

Before moving to the Vendée I rarely left my bedroom, let alone went outside, without being properly 'dressed': hair done, make-up on, fully clothed, etc.

Here, we have a tall hedge on the 2 sides of the property open to the odd bit of traffic (postman, bread truck, neighbor's tractor), and our own pastures and gardens on the other 2 sides.

One gets lulled into a sense of security; of privacy; of being alone.

I no longer bother with make-up unless I'm going into town; my hair gets tied back, out of the way; and, normally, when I crawl out of bed I crawl into my ratty old gardening/exercise clothes; none of which I would have even deigned to use as rags in my previous life.

I happily go about my day, secure in my surroundings, knowing that if someone actually comes to the gate, the dogs will warn me and I will have a minute to, er, get presentable, before facing them. 

One merely shouts 'J'attende!' 'J'arrive' (I'm coming)  to acknowledge the intruder guest, who then waits politely at the gate.  Two, very large, barking dogs normally insure proper behavior.

There's always the exception: the person who loves big, barking dogs, and wouldn't dream of waiting on the outside of the gate when they can just reach over, open it, and come in.   

I mean, this is the country: we're all friends here!

(Besides, one never gets the good gossip by being outside the gate.)

Thus it has happened, on more than one occasion, that I have come rushing around the corner of the house, sweat dripping, dressed in my favorite and finest workout/garden clothes: tight, knit, short leotards, complete with holes in auspicious places, and frayed, dingy, holey knit, tank top, thinking to give a shout then dash into the house for something to cover up with.

And, there, standing patiently, petting my traitorous dogs, is the: (insert one) handsome young postman with a special delivery; volunteer firefighters raising money for something; or, as on Saturday, the guy selling ham.

One would think I would learn. 

Yes, one would think that!

I did get a nice lot of home-cured ham, though.  It's all divided into dinner-size packs, and in the freezer.  I don't know what spices they use on it, but it smells faintly of cinnamon, cloves, cumin...in short, wonderful.

No ham in the pasta this week, though.  Maybe next week...

My plan for this pasta dish was some nice fresh spinach, it being spring and all.

The best laid plans, as they say.  No spinach in the market this week.  Not to be deterred, I used frozen.  Still good. 

And I do like to get my spinach in once a week...good for the eyes.

Check out Presto Pasta Nights, at Once Upon a Feast, on Friday, when Ruth will have the recap of the weeks best and brightest pasta dishes!

Chicken and Spinach Pasta

2 chicken breasts, boneless, skinless
1/2 green or red pepper
1 onion
2 cloves garlic
1 Tbs paprika, smoky is nice
1 tbs olive oil
15oz (450gr) chopped tomatoes
1/2 cup white wine
8oz frozen (or fresh) spinach
2 tsp dried basil
2 tsp dried parsley
6oz (200gr) feta (cubes if you can find them)
1/2 cup dry-cured, pitted Greek olives
1oz (30gr) grated Parmesan
1 1/4 cups pasta (lumache)

Cook the pasta according to package directions. 
Slice the pepper, chop the onion and mince the garlic. Cut chicken into bite-size pieces. Cut olives in half. If using fresh spinach, pick through leaves, discarding any that are bad and tearing any that are huge. 
In a large skillet heat oil.  Sauté paprika in hot oil for 1 minute. Add onion, pepper and garlic, sauté for 5 minutes. Add chicken and sauté until cooked through. Add wine, herbs, tomatoes and spinach, and cook, uncovered until spinach is cooked/thawed and sauce has reduced and thickened.  Add olives, feta and cooked, drained pasta.  Toss to combine.  Sprinkle with Parmesan and serve.

You do know that no proper Frenchwoman would ever be seen less than perfect?

You do know where that leaves me? 

On the other hand, think of all the money I'm saving on clothes and makeup....

And if you're not familiar with Bill Bryson... And like humor, I highly recommend his books.

I'm just so grateful that I haven't been caught at his, um, level of free expression.

Yet....

Beef in Guinness; So we'll know them by their limping....

May those who
Love us, love us.

And those that
Don't love us
May God turn
Their hearts;

And if he doesn't
Turn their hearts
May he turn
Their ankles.

So we'll know them
By their limping.

There is a lot of Irish wisdom floating around this weekend: some sappy; some satirical.  But none embodies the true Irish spirit for me as much as this simple Irish poem.

"So we'll know them by their limping" - That just sums it all up nicely....

We lived in Ireland for a year.  Our house was a typical terrace or row house: two rooms deep by three floors high.  It was old.  The walls were two feet thick and it had recently been remodeled to add a kitchen and bathroom.  We were right across the water from Cobh harbor (pronounced 'cove') where over 2.5 million emigrants embarked for a better place in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. 

I had a large ottoman snuggled into one of the window spaces on the second floor.  It fitted the space perfectly.  I would sit in my little nook, have my morning coffee, write in my journal and watch the world go by.

This is how I became aware of the daily activities of our next-door neighbor, Mickey.

Each day, around mid-morning, Mickey would leave his house with a small plastic bag.

He would slowly meander across the street, walk along the walls of the pier for a bit, then lean over and look across the water...gazing out to sea, as it were.  (Mickey had been a fisherman.)

When he stood back, the plastic bag was gone.

Then he would saunter over to the public outhouse and disappear.

About fifteen minutes later he would emerge and walk briskly back across the street to his house, morning chores complete.

We never saw Mickey's wife (although we heard her on more than one occasion). 

We assume she ran a tight ship and did not allow certain 'activities' in her immaculate house.  (Wha?  Shit inside?  In the house?  Not in my house, you don't!)

 

We only spoke to Mickey twice - not because he wasn't friendly, but because we couldn't understand him.

We assumed he was speaking Irish.  Wrong, again!

Apparently, the local speech in County Cork (pronounced 'cark') is considered totally unintelligible by Dublin standards.  After learning this, we paid closer attention and realized that Mickey was, in fact speaking English.

It was almost painful watching him make the effort to remember his grammar school lessons and form the words so we had a chance of understanding.

In the end, we just avoided each other: Mickey because (I think) he felt he couldn't properly articulate his words; us because we felt that, somehow, we should be able to understand this kind old man but were never able to.

We always smiled, waved and nodded like crazy at each other, though.  In our own ways we were good neighbors.    (partial reprint from post of March 2005)

To celebrate St. Patrick's Day Emiline, of Sugar Plum, is hosting a Pub Crawl.

In Ireland, even though St. Paddy's Day comes in the middle of Lent, (and the good Irish will 'take the pledge' - quit drinking for Lent) it's proper to down a pint for St. Patrick!

I always try to do my part...

Beef in Guinness

1 lb (450 gr) beef suitable for stewing or braising
1 onion
2 cloves garlic
3 carrots
1 bay (laurel) leaf
1/2 tsp dried thyme
1 pint Guinness
2 tsp beef paste (or stock cube)
1 tbs oil
3 tbs cornstarch (maizena)
1 tbs paprika

Cut beef into 1" (2.5 cm) cubes. Cut onion into quarters, then slice thinly. Mince or press garlic. Cut carrots in half the long way, then into 1" (2.5cm) pieces. Combine paprika and cornstarch in a plastic food bag. Add beef and toss to coat evenly. In sauce pan large, enough to hold everything easily, heat oil over medium-high heat. Add onion and sauté until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add beef and brown on all sides. Add garlic and sauté 1 minute more. Add remaining ingredients, bring to a boil, reduce heat to low, cover and simmer at least an hour. If it starts to dry out, add more Guinness. If you would like the sauce thicker stir in 1 tbs cornstarch dissolved in 2 tbs water.
When ready to eat, remove bay leaf and serve with boiled jacket potatoes.

Emiline says she'll have a boozy reminisce of the pub crawl on March 20....

Sláinte mhaith!