Bill just got an email from his dentist informing him that their Black Friday sale begins on Monday. One can apparently 'give the gift of a sparkling smile' or something like that. Is this really a good idea? Maybe if Santa sparkles up his smile it'll be so dazzling that Rudolph can take this year off. But I can see this going horribly wrong. Imagine the happy moment on Christmas morning when someone opens an eagerly awaited gift from someone special only to discover a teeth whitening kit or a voucher for dental work and wondering if they're trying to send a message. That could end the festive mood in a hurry. I'm not a Black Friday fan anyway, but I think some businesses are less suited to it than others.
Thursday, November 21, 2024
Wednesday, November 20, 2024
More Muffins
Yesterday I updated my post to include a link to the recipe I use for cranberry orange muffins. This is one of several adaptations I've come up with based on a plain muffin recipe I found in The New Laurel's Kitchen Cookbook almost 40 years ago! How can it be that I've been riffing on this for almost 4 decades!? I like the original recipe, but I usually make one of my adaptations. When I make muffins, it's almost always one of these. I thought it might be useful to put links to the various adaptations in one place. We love all of them and since they're pretty healthy, they're good to have around for breakfast, snacks, or even dessert. When I was in grad school, I often took one for lunch. I'd split it open, top with yogurt, and add fresh fruit. I'll link again to the cranberry orange muffins, just so they're all in one place. I'm sure there are many, many other variations that others can come up with--the recipe is easily adapted to suit your taste. I should say that these are not the kind of muffins that one gets in supermarkets, warehouse stores, and bakeries. They're not extremely sweet, although you can add more sugar if you want; they're not greasy, and they're not overly fluffy.
Several years ago, a friend who ate a plant based diet, made these vegan by leaving out the egg and using plant milk. I wasn't able to try these as we didn't live near one another, but she loved them and made them a lot, she said.
All links will open in a new window.
Muffins
Cranberry Orange I'll add that for these, adding a teaspoon or so of vanilla or almond extract is nice. Also, you can use blueberries, fresh or frozen, instead of cranberries.
It appears that when I originally posted this, I just linked back to the recipe above and mentioned adjustments and substitutions. To save clicks, I'll just put the entire recipe here:
Chocolate Chunk Raspberry Muffins
Place two cups of jumbo porridge oats/old fashioned rolled oats into a container and cover with 1 1/2 cups of milk. Place in fridge for several hours or overnight.
Preheat oven to 180 C (fan oven)/400 F. Place soaked oats in a bowl and add 1 to 3 tablespoons of (granulated, brown, or demerera) sugar (according to your taste) and one egg. Add a teaspoon of vanilla or almond extract, if desired. Mix in.
Add 1 cup of wholemeal/whole wheat flour and 1 teaspoon each bread/baking soda and salt. Stir in until incorporated.
Fold in about a cup of raspberries (fresh or frozen) and some chocolate chips, or a mix of chocolate chips and nuts.
Spoon into greased or lined muffin tins and bake for 15-20 minutes or until golden brown--timing depends a lot on the oven, so I just keep an eye on them.
As you can tell, in cooking as in life, I'm very much an improv kind of gal, creating out of whatever I have around. Sometimes I'm happy with the result and sometimes I'm not, but it's worked for me so far. Hope your day is filled with good things.
Tuesday, November 19, 2024
Impeccable Timing!
Yesterday we went over to our small local grocery store to pick up a few things in case the ice cometh and we found ourselves unable to safely walk on icy sidewalks. It's a very small store with a limited selection of items, but they're convenient for basics and they are one of only two stores (the other being Aldi, sometimes) where we can buy what are called jumbo oats here. These are like old-fashioned rolled oats in the US. What they call porridge oats are like what we knew as quick-cooking oats before we moved here. These range from sort of medium flakes to dust and we prefer the jumbo oats for porridge. Also, I make muffins with them (I think they'd be called buns here) and for that, the regular porridge oats do not work well. Since we'd started our last bag of jumbo oats and I wanted to make muffins with some of the fresh cranberries I got from veg man on Thursday, I put the jumbo oats on my list. We were bummed when we got to the shelf and saw only empty space.
This morning I realized that since the muffins use 2 cups of oats, and we only had the one already-opened bag, I'd better not make them. We decided to keep an eye on the sidewalk and maybe pop over to see if they'd restocked. By afternoon the sidewalk looked dry and people were walking and running normally. We both got into our books, though, so spent time drinking tea and reading. Just after 4, it was starting to get dark and I suggested we might want to go, since tomorrow will be around freezing with sleet/freezing rain/possible snow--or so they say. Off we went. Happy days! There were many bags of jumbo oats. As we got to the till and started chatting with Breda, the nice lady who works there, I said, 'You're restocked!' She laughed and said, 'I restocked this literally 5 minutes ago. The van is still out back. This is the time every week--Tuesday at 4.' So now we know. Had we gone any earlier, we would have found empty space again, so clearly it was best to sit and read for a while 😄😉😏 Too late to make the muffins today, since the oats need to soak for a while, but tomorrow is another day. Orange cranberry muffins with a hot beverage and books on a beautifully cold day? Sounds good to me!
Updated to add the link to the muffin recipe, which is here To the recipe as written, you can add a teaspoon of vanilla or almond extract if you want, along with the sugar and egg.
Saturday, November 16, 2024
Maybe Forget the Boiling Water
It's been unseasonably warm here for weeks. For most of the past week, it's been very still--no wind at all. There's been a lot of fog, so the air felt heavy, damp, stuffy, and not at all autumnal. This meant several nights of not sleeping well, so as the week went on, I was feeling more tired and sluggish, both mentally and physically. Last night, it all caught up to me and after supper I was feeling like I just couldn't do anything. I couldn't fall asleep, either. I really don't like it when those two things combine. So I got myself into my bed early and sat there in the dark listening to podcasts, booktube, and part of an audiobook. By the time I was listening to the latter, it was around midnight and I had situated myself to be ready for sleep. An hour later, I turned off my mp3 player, turned over, and fell asleep, a little earlier than usual, but that's OK. There was a breeze and it was cooler, so I was able to sleep to a time that is reasonable for me. I'm feeling better today.
I expect things to become even more conducive to sleep as an 'Arctic maritime regime' settles over us and brings wintry weather, although this will not be good for going from place to place. It's supposed to be cold for a week, with various episodes of frozen precipitation. That means ice will coat sidewalks and roads. They will send gritters out on the roads, but no one will do anything about the sidewalks. Those will just get worse each day until it's warm enough to cause melting and evaporation. People here will say that they're not used to the ice and that's why they don't deal with it well, but let's be real. Most winters there are at least a few days where ice is a problem. It's not hard to figure out how to deal with it. I would have thought that businesses and homeowners would want to avoid possible legal liability for any falls on the sidewalks in front of their premises, so, out of curiosity, I looked it up. Turns out that if the ice occurs naturally--as a result of freezing rain, for instance--no one is responsible for any injury resulting from it. However, if the owner does something to melt the ice and it then refreezes, like pouring boiling water onto a sidewalk to melt the ice, then that is not naturally occurring ice and the owner bears responsibility. So they have an incentive to just leave the ice there. This seems kind of weird, as does the boiling water example, which I found on a law firm's website. Then again, they seem to be fond of boiling water as a remedy. The first winter we were in the country, we heard a reminder on the radio that it wasn't a good idea to throw boiling water on your windshield to get any frost or ice off it. We laughed and wondered aloud who would do that, even as we assumed plenty of people do, or they wouldn't have said anything. A short time later, we were looking out the window and saw our neighbor toss some hot water on her windshield. We had another laugh.
In any case, we'll see what Monday is like. Hopefully, we'll be able to do a couple of errands in town before the ice arrives (if it does--plenty of time for the forecast to change). After those are done, I am happily anticipating a cozy stretch of hibernation with plenty of time to read, sip hot beverages, and sleep, sleep, sleep! I rely on this time to catch up on the sleep that is so elusive during the summer months and because of the weird weather, I am 6 weeks behind on that already. It's nice to wake up feeling rested. I look forward to it.
Tuesday, November 12, 2024
Donegal Dash Day
We did the Donegal dash today. Took the bus to Donegal town to return and pick up library books and do some other errands. If the bus is on time, we have 70 minutes on the ground to do what we need to do. Today, the bus was late due to numerous roadworks going on, but we had enough time to do most of what we wanted to get done and got back to the bus stop just as our bus home was coming around the Diamond, which is the town square and is actually triangular in shape.
A few weeks ago, a friend sent me this link to an article and Fresh Air interview the author did about this book:
After the library, it was off to the Animals in Need charity shop. I made a beeline for the books and found a couple.
Finally, while I was standing at the bookshelves, Bill walked over to the kitchenware shelf and found a short fairytale on a mug. I glanced over at him and he beckoned me over. 'Look at that mug,' he said. 'It's coming home with me,' I replied. 'I thought it might,' he answered.
Monday, November 11, 2024
Some Beauty
As this new week begins, it feels like a good day to share some beauty as respite from the ugly. A friend sent me this the other day, knowing that I love celosia. I used to have a small one in a pot, but haven't seen one of this size. I think it looks spectacular against the bare branches and blue sky. It brings me joy. May it do the same for you.
Sunday, November 10, 2024
Um, Maybe I Should Just Move Along Now
A couple of decades ago, we lived in a neighborhood with many residents that were either immigrants from Mexico or of Mexican descent. There was a school that was maybe a block away from our house. This lone male lived directly across the street from the school and several houses down from us. The location of his dwelling became a concern once I had the experience described below. We never saw the guy except from a distance, because every time he would be outside and someone was walking down the street, he'd scurry back inside his house, which was interesting in itself--at least from the outside.
There wasn't much of a front yard, but there were a few plants growing there, with a very tall flagpole planted among them. This was always flying the 'don't tread on me' flag. In the windows were 'no trespassing' signs and statues of the Virgin Mary. So in spite of the fact that we never saw or talked to him, we felt we knew something about him and didn't really care to make his acquaintance anyway.
One day, I was walking home from work. I came around the corner onto our street and saw him washing his car. I had the fleeting thought that he'd be hurrying inside at any moment to avoid having to interact with me. As I got closer, I realized with surprise that he was staying outside, so I prepared to say a polite hello as I walked by. I adjusted my face accordingly. However, my surprise grew when I reached the spot in the sidewalk where he was and he began to speak to me. The conversation was pretty much as weird as I would have expected it to be. He didn't greet me in any way. He didn't say hello. Didn't ask how I was. Wasn't commenting on the weather. No. He opened his mouth to speak and out tumbled, 'You know what is the best thing about this country?' 'OK,' I thought, 'This is going to be interesting.' I replied, 'No, what is the best thing about this country?' His answer wasn't funny, but it was so ridiculous that I burst out laughing. 'The best thing about this country is that we can all own guns.' I don't remember exactly what I said then, but I think it was something about how that's not exactly a good thing. That and my laughter were not what he wanted to hear and he got slightly agitated. He went on and on with the typical argument about defending himself against the government. For those not familiar with US gun culture, this is a typical justification people use for why they need guns. They have the nonsensical idea that somehow they can fight off the US military with their personal arsenals😆 Anyway, I said to Mr Gun Nut that I was quite sure that no matter how many guns he had, the US government had access to bigger guns and more of them. He got more agitated.
I know, you're probably thinking that I should have just walked away right then. I don't know why I didn't, except that I was tired and the guy was so ridiculous as to be almost amusing in a sick sort of way, so things went on. He asked me if I thought people shouldn't have guns and I replied that they didn't need weapons of war and that there should be some regulations. He talked about shooting people who break into his house. I mentioned that the facts are, most of the shootings that occur are not people defending themselves against intruders, but people shooting family members or friends. He said that that never happened to him and he grew up with guns. I laughed a bit more and said sarcastically, 'Oh, well, if that's YOUR experience then it must be true for everyone.' He was angry now and with a raised voice, he asked, 'So you want immigrants to come here and shoot up kids in school?' I responded with, 'Every school shooting has been perpetrated by one of the home grown white boys you were describing.' As I was saying this, I finally had the wise thought that I should stop the conversation. He was yelling at me, but I just shook my head, kept laughing, and walked away--past my house and down the street. At some point, I looked back and he was gone, so I went home.
Even though that story illustrates some of the absurd things people believe about gun culture, it also highlights the problem of disinformation and flight from fact, which has only gotten worse in the decades since I had this conversation. At the time, there was right wing hate radio and Fox 'News.' By the time this happened, I'd already had years of experience interacting with people in a disinformation bubble and I understood that even then, there were many people inhabiting a fact-free universe. They would hear something on one of these platforms and repeat it, like the gun guy, without even a pause to consider if it made sense. It was a problem even back then that people I knew who lived in the real world didn't want to accept or acknowledge. The disinformation universe has exploded in the years since. Some people in the 'U'S talk about involvement in foreign wars, seemingly not understanding that there's a war being waged against them in their own homes and hands and it's one that they're losing--or maybe have already lost. Early evidence seems to indicate that the election results Tuesday were what they were in large part because people believed things that are not true. There are many dividing lines in politics and people get divided into categories by level of education, class, race, gender, etc. Now it appears that there has to be a category of those living in the real world and those living elsewhere. This explains a great deal. For example, while the winning campaign expressly said that they planned to create hardship for people, those who said they don't like the economy now voted for that campaign. A significant number of people across the country voted for contradictory things--for abortion rights and for the candidates who want to remove them; in favor of strengthening unions and for the candidate who will weaken them among the examples. It didn't take long for people to learn that they voted for things that will harm them. I expect that will continue.
But this isn't just a 'U'S problem. The disinformation is everywhere. We see the impact of it here as well. I'm confident that leaders and others in countries around the world are analyzing the results of the disinformation warfare being waged by Russia and others as well as by those within each country. Some will try to use it for their own personal gain, as in the 'U'S, and some will hopefully be able to learn lessons about how to better protect their citizens from a similar fate. People are people everywhere, but people everywhere can learn from the example of how disinformation can harm or destroy democracy as they witness it happening in real time. I don't know how one combats a problem like this, but I know good people are out there working on it. At some point, reality will remind those that have tried to flee from it that there is no escape. The real world still exists and it will have the final say.
Saturday, November 9, 2024
Just in Case
We arrived here well before the orange toddler rode down his tacky escalator and started spewing filth. We didn't want to live in an urban area, so ended up in a small town. People would often ask us, 'Why did you move here?' I'd usually say something positive about Ireland and add that since things were going to become pretty ugly in the US, we decided that it was time. A few people sort of beamed proudly and said that it was nice to see things moving in the other direction for once. They meant that instead of Irish people leaving, people were leaving other places to come here. Others smiled and asked if we liked it here. fast forward a few years to 2016 and it didn't take me long to realize that the question was no longer being asked. It hasn't been asked since. No one has wondered why. We have been asked where we're from and I always wanted to lie and say Canada, but I didn't. I told the truth. And then I watched the sympathetic expression that always comes over their faces and heard the reply, 'I'm sorry. But you're European now, so it's OK.' I still find this fascinating. No one has ever said, 'You're Irish now.' To them, I can be European, but not Irish. To be clear, I am not either one. I don't feel Irish and I never will. I am someone who lives in Ireland. I don't feel European and I never will. I am someone who lives in Europe. I don't feel like an 'American,' (and never have) although technically and bureaucratically I am.
It's a weird thing they've got going on here. While nice people were excluding us from 'Irishness,'--and again, I take no offense at this, I just find it interesting--the reason we're here is because Bill was able to become an Irish citizen by descent before we'd ever stepped foot in the country. I offer this information just in case it's useful to anyone.
Years ago, an acquaintance told Bill that if someone has a parent or grandparent who was born in Ireland, they could apply for citizenship by descent. Bill's grandparents were born here, so he looked into it and discovered that this was something we could do. We began the process. He got the necessary information and paperwork from the nearest Irish embassy. There was a bit of confusion at the beginning because of the way something was worded, so we were a little unsure about his late father's situation. The parent had to be a citizen as well as the grandparent, but his father was born in the US. Bill contacted the embassy for clarification and was told that his dad was automatically a citizen because his dad's parents were citizens. From there it was quite straightforward. He gathered all of the necessary certificates--birth, death, marriage--from the proper authorities in the US. Then it was time to get one of the birth certs for a grandparent. We got the request form from Ireland and discovered that we had to pick a year. They would search that year, the one previous, and the year after. Then we had to guess, because it was unclear exactly what year they were born and his grandmother had apparently fibbed on her marriage certificate because she was older than her groom. In any case, we filled out a form for each grandparent, sent it off, and hoped. They couldn't find anything for his grandfather, but we got grandma's birth certificate and that was all we needed--other than a check, of course. We sent everything off and began our wait. We were told to expect a wait of 18-24 months. One day, about 8 or 9 months later, there was a knock at the door. I found the FedEx guy standing on the porch needing a signature. I was puzzled--I wasn't expecting anything and Bill wasn't home, so I couldn't ask him. I glanced down at the envelope and saw it was from the Irish Consulate. I went inside, opened the envelope and pulled out a letter that began, 'Congratulations, you are an Irish citizen' and going on to explain that Bill's details would be entered into the book of foreign births. It all seemed a bit strange. I was standing there, alone in the quiet house, thinking, 'Shouldn't there be confetti and noisemakers or something?' 😏😆 I called Bill to give him the good news.
Getting the Irish passport was a different process, much like getting a US passport, but with specific Irish requirements as to photo size, etc. We did that later. We didn't come here immediately after that, but when we knew the time was right, all of that was already taken care of, so we were able to move pretty quickly. We'd never been to Ireland before, but we'd gotten rid of almost all of our possessions and arrived with a few suitcases and backpacks.
For those without Irish citizenship, US passport holders can come to Ireland and get a 90-day tourist visa at the airport upon arrival.
Friday, November 8, 2024
Classic Swedish Stories
A Book for Christmas
by Selma Lagerlöf (translated by Sarah Death, Peter Graves, and Linda Schenk)
Published by Penguin Press UK – Allen Lane, Particular, Pelican, Penguin Classics | Penguin Classics
ISBN 9780241715062
This is a collection of stories, originally published between 1904 and 1933, written by a well-known Swedish author. It's the first time these stories have been translated into English. Having grown up in the US, I was familiar with certain kinds of Christmas stories. As I got older, I became interested in the seasonal stories of other cultures, but hadn't read any from Sweden, so I didn't hesitate when I saw this book. It did not disappoint! I particularly enjoyed the first story, which was based on a memory from when the author was 10. Her excitement about the fact that on Christmas Eve she would be able to burn the candle and read as long as she wanted was so charming and relatable. I think this story explains the book title. Not all of the stories are set at Christmastime, but it does say a book FOR Christmas, not a book of Christmas. I admit that I started the book expecting it to be full of Swedish Christmas stories, but after reading the first story, I interpreted the title differently so my expectations changed. In spite of the fact that not all the stories involved Christmas, I quite enjoyed this book. I liked reading about what Christmas was like in Sweden over a century ago. The folktale style stories were interesting, if sometimes somewhat disturbing, as folktales often are. In short, the book gave me a window into a time and place I had no knowledge of before and I really like that. I'm very glad I had an opportunity to read this book.
I thank NetGalley and the publisher for a digital review copy of this book.
Thursday, November 7, 2024
A New Chapter...
begins soon.
For those of you who did not choose this path, I know your pain is real, it is justified, it is terrifying, and it is so, so hard. Anger, fear, grief, and sadness are appropriate emotions. It's important to care for yourself and your loved ones. For anyone who wants to learn more about what's coming, I can highly recommend Ruth Ben Ghiat's book, Strongmen: Mussolini to the Present, as well as her Substack, Lucid. Of course, the authoritarian regime that's coming in the US will look different than those in places like Italy, Germany, Russia--these things always have to be culturally appropriate or they won't work--but Ben-Ghiat does an excellent job of explaining what's happening and putting things in context. For myself, being informed about what is going on and why helps me navigate.
For some of the people who voted for MAGA fascism, the resulting pain and suffering is exactly what they wanted because the cruelty always was, and will remain, the point. This isn't the majority of them, though. For the rest, the pain will come--and probably fairly soon. To those people, remember, you chose this.
You've been promised--clearly and unambiguously--by the MAGA fascist party themselves, that things will be nasty and economic hardship is to be expected. When that hardship arrives and you don't like it, remember, you chose this.
When prices go up due to tariffs and other bad economic policies and you don't like it, remember, you chose this.
When you watch a woman or girl you love suffer and die, remember, you chose this.
When your health care options are few and your insurance is more inadequate than it is now, remember, you chose this.
When workers businesses rely on to do the work no one else would do, some of whom may be your friends, are rounded up and taken away, remember, you chose this.
When civil and human rights, including yours, are removed one by one, remember, you chose this.
When health care policy is dictated by a lunatic conspiracy theorist with a worm-eaten brain and public and individual health suffers as a result, remember, you chose this.
When vaccines are no longer available and disease spreads, remember, you chose this.
When the air you breath and the water you drink becomes more toxic as corporations are invited to destroy the natural environment in your neighborhood and beyond, remember, you chose this.
When you're forced to live under laws dictated by the religious beliefs of a small minority of extreme christian nationalists, and you don't like them, remember, you chose this.
When you want to read a book but you can't because it has been banned, remember, you chose this.
When everyone in the US is less safe because the sane people from other governments don't dare to share intelligence information with the administration of an unstable, incoherent puppet in DC, remember, you chose this.
When the failing, cognitively impaired POTUS is completely incapacitated, which by the looks of things won't be long now, and you're stuck with the VP-elect, remember, you chose this.
When the constitution is a hollow shell that no longer has any real meaning, remember, you chose this.
As the 'experiment' in US democracy comes to an end, remember, you chose this.
In the words of Charles Dickens in A Christmas Carol, 'May you be happy in the life you have chosen.'
Saturday, November 2, 2024
Good Day for a Warm Loaf
I made some wholemeal jalapeno cheese bread this afternoon. It's been a while, but it was nice to get my hands into some dough and to smell the aroma of baking bread. I had some whey from a recent batch of ricotta I made, so I used that, heated until warm, as the liquid--it works really well for bread. I dumped everything into my food processor with the dough blade, whizzed it up until it was nicely mixed, turned the dough out onto a floured surface, and kneaded for a few minutes.
Then into the slow cooker, which had a piece of parchment paper in it, large enough to use to lift out the bread when it was time to turn the loaf. After a little more than 2 hours on high, I turned it over and let it bake for another hour or so, still on high. Then out it came and the impatient wait for it to cool down enough to slice began. I love the end piece, still hot from the slow cooker, with some butter.
I'd never thought about using my slow cooker to bake bread until my bread machine conked out. I'd gotten it 4 or 5 years previously for €5 at a charity shop, so I definitely got my money's worth from it. I didn't really want to get a new one and as it was during the pandemic, we weren't going to any charity shops. The ovens I've had in this country are all crap and other than muffins or flatbreads, I wouldn't try to bake bread in one, because I know the loaves would be burnt on the outside and uncooked on the inside. Besides, they are very energy inefficient. So I was looking for an alternative to bread makers and my oven. The slow cooker works perfectly and I am no longer looking for a bread machine. Even if I saw another one for €5 in a charity shop, I wouldn't buy it. When Bill got me my food processor, the whole process was made even easier and the combination of both appliances works better and is easier than using a bread machine, so in the end, I'm not sorry mine conked out.
Thursday, October 31, 2024
I Gotta Be Me
I've been reminded lately about how some things about our personalities and ways of being in the world are evident from a very young age. On this Halloween, I remembered a Halloween experience from many decades ago. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but I wouldn't have been beyond 5th grade, because I was walking home from elementary school (the school went up to 6th grade, but because I skipped 6th grade, my last year there was 5th grade). I was almost home and looking forward to trick-or-treating, when I was approached by some teenagers or possibly very young adults, who stopped me to ask, 'If you died tonight, are you sure you would go to heaven?' As far as I can recall, this was the first time I'd ever encountered people who adhered to that sort of Christian faith, but I was polite and answered them. I still laugh at my answer, which was, 'Well, no, I can't really be sure about that. How can anyone be sure that--or if--they will go anywhere after they die or know what will happen to them?' I was prepared to have a real conversation with these people, so the expression on their faces puzzled me and their answer seemed to consist of nothing much. They quickly realized that I was a waste of their time, I guess, because I was not delayed for very long and soon arrived home.
Fast forward a couple decades--still a time when we had landlines and when paid TV was called 'cable.' Since we haven't had paid TV since 1995 and no TV at all for over 15 years, I have no idea what it's called now or how it works. But at that time, the cable company offered a new music streaming service that allowed us to choose different music stations based on genre and scrolled the song and artist on the remote. We had this for a while, but eventually decided not to keep it. A month or two after we ended our subscription, I got a call from someone doing a survey about our experience with the service. I'm afraid that once again, I answered honestly and not within the acceptable script. After we'd been muddling through the guy's questions for a while, I could sense his growing agitation. My answer to the next question did the poor guy in. He asked me how much we'd be willing to pay for the service, which under the circumstances was a stupid question. However, I was polite when I answered, 'Obviously nothing, because we cancelled it.' I could hear his gritted teeth when he replied, 'Please just pick a number, ma'am.' I did and he very quickly thanked me (against his will, I'm sure) and ended the conversation.
I have never been good at superficial conversation, small talk, or choosing answers from a predetermined list. I mean, I politely do the first two, even if I find it tiring and I always have a running analysis going on in my head at the same time. As for the last one, sometimes, like when taking a test, if I know what the instructor wants the answer to be, I can just check off the right box. Even then, there's a part of my brain going through all the ways in which the answer is not really adequate. I'm not really good at fluff. I tend to get really interested in things and go way deeper than most people are interested in going. As I learn more about whatever the topic is, I find related issues to dive into and on it goes. I've been in conversations where people ask me something and I launch into a detailed answer that they were never interested in hearing. I'm not saying that having a superficial interest in some things is bad, just that I'm not built that way. I'm either very interested or hardly interested at all. I'm also not saying that polite small talk is bad--it's an important aspect of social interaction and I understand the useful purpose it serves. It's simply not my favorite thing. Once we moved here, it didn't take me long to come up with automatic answers to the ubiquitous weather commentary that cannot be avoided, although once in a great while I hear a new description besides, 'Not a bad day, is it?' or 'It's not raining, that's the important thing.' A few weeks ago we were on the bus home after being out in the wind and mizzle when someone got on and commented to another person, 'Tis a perishin' day out there.' He agreed that it was. It made a nice change from the ordinary.
I sometimes used to wish that I was better able to skim the surface of some things. Eventually I accepted that I'm not like that and I'm not going to change at this late date, barring some sort of brain injury. So now I embrace this part of myself. I gotta be me, although I still know how to put on my polite smile and play the game when that is required.
Happy Halloween, if you celebrate!
Saturday, October 26, 2024
Poet, Mystic, Widow, Wife: The Extraordinary Lives of Medieval Women by Hetta Howes
Poet, Mystic, Widow, Wife: The Extraordinary Lives of Medieval Women
by Hetta Howes
Published by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
ISBN 9781399408738
This book is an exploration of the lives of medieval women, organized (albeit sometimes very loosely) around the lives of four women: Marie de France, Julian of Norwich, Christine de Pizan, and Margery Kempe. These were 'four different women who defied the expectations of their time and wrote back against the misogyny they experienced.' The author uses their own writing as well as other sources to describe what life was like for women, moving from childbirth to death, including marriage, adultery, travel, making a living, and influence in between. She states that all four of these women were 'trying to craft a legacy that would endure.' This book and others are witness to the fact that they succeeded, even if their work was unknown for a time.
This is a very enjoyable and informative book. It provides a fascinating glimpse into another time as well as showing us how some things continue hundreds of years later. It's a very readable book--lots of information but written in a very accessible style. If women's history in particular or medieval history in general interests you, then this is a great book to pick up.
I thank NetGalley, the publisher, and the author for a digital review copy.
Thursday, October 24, 2024
A Winter Wonderland of Words
A Winter Dictionary: A Collection of Words for the Festive Season
by Paul Anthony Jones
ISBN 9781783968237
Published by: Elliot and Thompson
This is a fun collection of words related to all things winter, starting with the end of autumn transition to early winter and ending with the late winter transition into spring. In between there are chapters devoted to various aspects of winter, such as the weather as experienced both outside and from the inside, festive holiday rituals and activities, landscape, and more. It's a delightful assemblage of words, some relatively new, some old, and some archaic. Each entry includes the word, its part of speech, its earliest known use, a definition, and often amusing examples. There's a word list in the back. As someone who loves winter and finds that it always goes by too fast, I loved diving into this winter wonderland of words and could see myself going back to the book again and again at all times of the year. Whether you're a lover of winter, a lover of words, or both, this is a book to appreciate.
A few of my favorites include:
meldrop: a single drop from a melting icicle or the tip of a person's nose
chimonophile: a lover of wintry weather
cryophile: something or someone who thrives in wintry conditions
antifogmatic: a drink taken to combat the effects of cold or damp weather.
Wednesday, September 18, 2024
Time to Flee!
One week ago, the horrible Harvest Fair began with live 'music' at local bars. For the loud bar near us, this meant a start time of 10:45 pm and an end time of 2:30 am. The following day was fair day itself. Main Street was closed to traffic and vendors set up stalls. We were looking forward to this a couple years ago when we first got to town, thinking we'd see lots of art and craft. No. It was stall after stall of plastic junk. It was difficult to get through the crowd of people. I found it quite unpleasant. We haven't done that again. As usual, there was music playing in the street during this event. Then the bar started blasting the same old loop of recorded music we've heard so often, so the noise polluters were competing with each other. I occupied myself by getting ready to flee the next day.
We knew the weekend would be the worst of the event, so we booked a room in another town to get away from the noise pollution weekend. On Friday, Saturday, Sunday, in addition to the live 'music' at the bar, much activity was planned for Main Street--different musical performers, a parade, a jiving competition, and just general drunken revelry until late. Because horrible harvest fair is a special event, the noise is permitted to extend later into the night. The worst of the schedule was Sunday, when the planned events would go on for 9 or 10 hours. Instead, on Sunday I was sitting outside on a rocking garden bench, listening to the birds singing, feeling the slightly chilly breeze, and looking at flowers whilst drinking tea and reading a book. I'm so grateful I got to experience a weekend of peace and quiet instead of agitation and annoyance.
As a bonus, we got to spend some time with Sue, who is 16.5 years old--and what a bundle of energy! The way she wags her tail made me laugh every time.
Thursday, August 22, 2024
Liars by Sarah Manguso
As the title indicates, this is a book about liars--people lying to other people, each other, and themselves. Early on there is a scene that serves as a metaphor for what's to come when Jane, the narrator, tries to use a marker to hide the fact that her thrift store fur coat is disintegrating. Soon after this, she fills in her 'patchy eyebrows' with a pencil. When Jane, who is a writer, meets John, a self-identified artist and filmmaker, this habit of covering up reality gets more serious. They begin a relationship quickly and it's clear that this is a mistake, especially when they decide to get married. Jane realizes this on some level, but is pretty good at lying to herself and at 'keeping up appearances' with the people she knows. As she says about herself, 'I was a layer cake of abandonment and hurt, and fury, iced with a smile.' (p36) John does his own lying to her and to others. He lies to himself as well, but in a different way than Jane does. He has delusions of grandeur regarding his artwork, which isn't particularly good, mostly, although he seems to think he's a genius. John is lazy and manipulative and seems to fail at everything, leaving Jane to pick up the pieces and cover for him as best she can. Meanwhile, Jane is a successful writer, which John resents. When 'the child' arrives, things get worse and the pressure on Jane builds, particularly when they move back and forth between NY and California a few times while John chases down funding for his ideas. The pressure is always on Jane. John needs someone to blame for his own failings and inadequacies. 'He kept telling me to stop letting it show on my face. To hide how I felt so that no one would know, no one would be able to read the proof of my shame and humiliation, which by then I always felt for John so he never needed to feel it himself.' (p 81)
And so the lies continue throughout the book as things continue to fall apart. It's not quite the case that this is a portrait of a marriage falling apart, but more that the marriage was falling apart before it began because the two people involved were already in crisis before they met. The (unnamed) child both exacerbates the situation and gives Jane someone to be stronger for, even as she sometimes uses him as an excuse to stay in the marriage.
The book is structured in short paragraphs of various lengths and this fits the narrative well. Jane goes back and forth--one minute she has clarity about what is going on and the next she's telling herself that she's so lucky and of course she loves John and they have a happy family. The short paragraphs illustrate this as the reader whipsaws back and forth with Jane's thoughts. The book is extremely well written and I was drawn in from the start, finishing in one sitting because I didn't want to put it down. This book is almost exclusively focused on the devastation of the relationship and Jane's responses to it. There is a lot about how overwhelmed Jane is at what seems to be required of her as John's wife and 'the child's' mother, as well as how she feels she is losing herself in the process, but here and there are sprinkled comments about the next book she is having published, so clearly there was writing time happening, even if it was hard to carve out. This is a painful book to read at times. John was pathetic and thoroughly unlikable. That said, this is an excellent book and I'm glad to have read it. I haven't read any other work by this author, but will now seek it out.
Thanks to NetGalley, the publisher, and the author for a digital review copy.
Thanks to NetGalley, the publisher, and the author for a digital review copy.
Saturday, August 17, 2024
I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues
My annual summer blues have been pretty intense this year and, as always, I am eagerly looking forward to some good sleep. I need a chilly (or even cold) room and a few blankets. The other morning I was standing at the open kitchen window and felt the hint of a sharp edge to the wind that blew in. It made me smile. Now that we're almost 2 months past solstice, the nights are lengthening. Yesterday was our last post-9 pm sunset of the year. This led to more smiling. I'm starting to feel less glum as we move closer to my happy time of year. As I await the change of season, I continue to do the things that bring me joy in the midst of extreme tiredness and deep blues, relying on books and yarn to lift my spirits. Today I finished a blue project.
All of our socks are handmade by me, some of them made many years ago. Bill needed some new ones as some of his older ones are starting to show lots of wear. Since we have no local yarn shop and sock yarn isn't something I find in charity shops, I went to the website of Springwools in Dublin and emailed him some possibilities. He looked through these and made his selections, deciding on a blue variegated and a dark denim blue. The skein of variegated (which is showing more green in the photo--it's blue IRL) is large enough for a pair of socks with lots left over. The dark denim blue is enough for one sock with some left. I started with the large skein and made a pair. Then I made a pair of fraternal twins using the rest of that and most of the smaller skein. I finished that pair this afternoon.
There's more blue in my future, but first I'm diving into some purple. Last week a friend gifted me two skeins of sock yarn--one in a purple colorway so I can make myself a pair, and one in a dark blue/light blue/light purple colorway so I can make Bill a pair.
For any sock knitters out there, here's the sock info:
The blue variegated is King Cole Zig Zag, which comes in 420m skeins. I love this yarn. Great colors. I've used it several times in the past for both knitted and crocheted socks. It's lovely to work with, wears well, and the resulting socks are great. Last autumn, I got a skein in a Christmas colorway, knitted myself a pair of socks and had enough left to crochet another pair, using scrap balls in a plain cream for toes and heels. Highly recommend this yarn.
The dark denim color is Lang Jawoll Sock. It's 210m and comes with a 5g spool of reinforcement yarn. I've never used this yarn before, so I don't know how well it will wear. I did use the reinforcement yarn on the heel flap and turn.
They're just plain top-down socks. I use 2x2 rib on US size 1 needles over 68 stitches for the cuffs, change to US size 0, then do a heel flap, heel turn, gusset to start the foot. I decrease the gusset stitches every other round until I have 72 stitches left and work the foot until the toe decreases. I use a star toe.
I will probably do the same on the socks I make with my new purple yarn. I sometimes do some sort of pattern on the top of the foot, but in this case, I want to knit plain so I can see how the patterns unfold.
Whatever it is that brings you joy, I hope you get to do a lot of it as this season starts to wind down.
Thursday, May 23, 2024
Does He Understand the Concept?
It was Bill who pointed it out to me. He looks out the window as he's washing the dishes and he often gets a view of the guy across the river and his droopy drawers. He shared his observations with me and well, there are some things you just can't unsee. Droopy seems not to understand the concept of pants and what their purpose is. He seems to assume that they should be worn under the butt instead of covering it. He apparently feels that this fashion statement is one to be shared with any and all who are in his vicinity. I'm sure I am not alone in wishing he wouldn't, but here we are. We look out of the windows at our own risk. Yesterday, he was on a ladder fairly high above the sidewalk, giving all and sundry a better view. You'd think the breeze blowing across his butt would cause a chill, but he's apparently willing to tough it out. Has anyone ever told him that pants were actually designed to gently cover the rear end, providing warmth, comfort, and protection from stinging insects, biting bugs, splinters, frostbite, etc? We'll never know. Droopy droops and I just look away.😬
Monday, May 20, 2024
Whoop!
Got happy mail today!
It was kind of a surprise--Bill told me the other day that he'd seen a couple of books that he thought I'd like on a used book page on eBay, so he got them and they were on their way. He asked if I wanted to know what they were and I said I did, so he told me. I was (and am) thrilled! I didn't look them up, so the contents were a surprise. He was concerned that I might have already read many of the stories, but as it turns out, there are just a few between both books that I've read before. Not that I would have minded if there had been more. I love, love, love both short story collections and classic mysteries, so there is plenty for me to love here.
I started the Victorian mysteries shortly after the parcel was opened. The second story was an amusing Wilkie Collins detective story. His Woman in White was mentioned a few times in the Introduction as one of the first detective sensation novels. As luck would have it, I found a like-new copy of that in a charity shop on Friday. The Victorian mystery anthology is divided into themes--detective, crime, international, and American stories. It seems to be quite well done and I am looking forward to reading a story or two each day. It'll be interesting to see if the stories from Spain, Italy, Germany are different in some ways from the British and US ones. I've been reading more and more Victorian literature (and a bit before that) for the past few years for quite a while now, so this will fit right in with that.
I am equally excited about the Christmas anthology, but I will summon up my willpower to hold off on that until later in the year. Reading Christmas mysteries is part of my yearly 'I am so grateful summer is OVER' ritual, so I am thrilled to know that this will be waiting for me when the time comes. It's a nice chunky book so I can stretch out my enjoyment for a while.
What better way to begin the week than welcoming fabulous books into my life?
Saturday, May 18, 2024
Friday, May 10, 2024
The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley
The Minstry of Time by Kaliane Bradley
Published by: Hodder & Stoughton | Sceptre
ISBN 9781399726344
I don't usually read sci fi, although there are a few exceptions. However, I was intrigued by the description of this book, in which a select group of people are brought from the past to present-day Britain and must learn to inhabit the 21st century. I do love a good culture shock story. This excellent book is far more than that, though, and I am so glad I read it!
The book is told from the perspective of a civil servant, who had been toiling away in the Languages department, but applies for and is hired for a much more secretive and well-paying job in the Ministry, where time travel has been discovered. She will be the 'bridge' to Commander Graham Gore, who had been known as one of those who perished in the Franklin expedition to the Arctic. History says he died in 1847, but now he's learning about life in the 21st century. The bridge is there to monitor him and help him navigate this new world. Even she isn't clear about what the Ministry is about and what the purpose of the project is. This job also makes her think about her own life as an outsider--her mother was a refugee from Cambodia and she grew up with the casual racism that is sadly so common. Just as the 'expats' as they are called (in order to keep away the stigma of the word 'immigrant') must figure out what their place is in a new society, the bridge continues to figure out her place in her own. Her experience also complicates her relationship with Commander Gore at times, but in spite of the fact that this is supposed to be a job, she soon finds herself growing closer to her expat. At the same time, she finds herself uneasy about some of the things that are happening at the Ministry and isn't sure what to do about it. At one point she says, 'Life is a series of slamming doors. We make irrevocable decisions every day. A twelve-second delay, a slip of the tongue, and suddenly your life is on a new road.' (p 160)
As you'd expect, there is a lot in this book about belonging and feeling misplaced. For the bridge, this is a generational thing--there is a very moving short scene in which she remembers a trip to her mother's home place in Cambodia and how her mother's accent was ridiculed. She clearly didn't fit in there, but she never quite fit in in Britain, either. The bridge's sister writes about her experiences with racism, while the bridge tries to fit in and pass as white. In similar ways, the expats have different strategies for navigating their current world.
I don't want to give anything away, but I'll just say that the last 100 pages or so are a wild ride. I thought I knew where the book was going. I was wrong. This is a really fine book, beautifully written, and a real page-turner. I was annoyed every time I had to put it down and couldn't wait to get back to it. I've been thinking about it ever since I finished it and I think it will stay with me for a long time. Fantastic read!
Thanks to NetGalley, the publisher, and the author for a digital review copy.
Update--an article about the author appeared in The Guardian and you can read it here
Thursday, May 9, 2024
The Silence Factory by Bridget Collins
The Silence Factory by Bridget Collins
Published by HarperCollins UK, HarperFiction | The Borough Press
ISBN 9780008424046
On a Greek island in the 1820s, Sophia is trying to cope with her married life. Her husband, James, is obsessed with finding a particular spider, which supposedly spins silk that has unusual properties. When Sophia accidentally finds a specimen, neither of them realize that James' obsession will trap him in its web just as securely as the spider webs trap the rats and 'suck them dry' when they're dropped into the tanks as food. James leaves the island with as many spiders as he can carry and goes back to England. He thinks that as a British Christian man, he is smarter than everyone else and entitled to take what he wants.
Some decades later, Henry Latimer, a grieving widower, is plodding through his days as a clerk in his father-in-law's audiology shop. One day, Sir Edward shows up and engages Henry in conversation. He comments that Henry sells sound and he sells silence. Henry is clearly puzzled, so Sir Edward gives him a piece of spider silk with special properties. When one side is facing, utter silence results. The outer facing side creates weird murmurs, whispers, and disturbing noises. Sir Edward has inherited his great uncle James' estate and the family lace factory, which he is using to try to mass market the silk. Henry becomes obsessed with the silk after bringing it home and using it to block out the cacophony outside. He gets his first good night of sleep since his wife died in childbirth. When Sir Edward wants someone to come to his home to test his deaf daughter, Henry goes. He, too, gets tangled up in the web of silk and refuses to heed the warnings of people who try to help him. He desperately wants to outrun the whispers, murmurs, and disturbing noises in his own mind, but of course, none of us can do that. While he sees a chance at a new life as his feelings for Sir Edward grow deeper, he also has to work hard to ignore the horrific effects of the factory on the town and especially the people, including the children, who work there.
This is the first book I've read by this author, but it definitely won't be the last. It's a fantastic book that hooked me from the start. The book moves back and forth between Sophia's diary entries and Henry's story, with the former sprinkled throughout the book. I was gripped by both story lines as the characters struggle to escape the bonds that imprison them, whether it is James with his ego and need to
impress his brother, leading to the fixation on the spiders, Sir Edward with his sense of entitlement and need to wield power and get more cash, Sophia, who is stuck in a marriage with a man growing more angry and erratic, or Henry, who is trying to outrun his grief and guilt. The spiders provide a good metaphor for this theme as they weave their webs, entrapping and destroying prey much larger than themselves. Will they also (indirectly) destroy the humans who have stolen them from their native habitat in order to exploit them? At one point, Sophia comments that she knows the spiders are furious at them. The difference between the rats dropped into the spider tanks and the humans outside of it, of course, is choice. The rats have none. The spiders have none. The humans have choices, but will they make the right ones in time? What will become of the people involved, from those in charge to those working in the factory and at the mercy of the people and machines that make the factory run? What happened to Sophia and James? Read this excellent book to find out!
Thanks to NetGalley, the publisher, and the author for a digital review copy of this book.
Wednesday, May 8, 2024
They're Screaming
In summer 2021, "In a twenty-four-hour period, the temperature in downtown Portland, Oregon jumped from 76 degrees to 114 degrees (F), the hottest temperature in 147 years of observations...If you'd had the right kind of microphone, scientists say, you could have heard the trees screaming."
--The Heat Will Kill You First by Jeff Goodell, pgs 7-8
Tuesday, May 7, 2024
Lucky Day!
We hopped on the bus this morning with our fingers crossed. We were heading for the library and hoping that they still had a couple of books--one on each of our lists--that had been waiting for us until Friday. We didn't have a chance to go last week, so I emailed and asked if they could please hold the books a bit longer so we could go today. I got an automated reply back because the person was out of the office until today. I figured it'd be OK anyway, because it was a bank holiday weekend here and once they closed Friday they weren't open again until this morning. I was pretty sure that no one would jump over to the hold shelf and start removing books as soon as they opened and they didn't. We both plan to read both books, so nice that we were able to get them.
Finally, I got this one, which I am really looking forward to:
Our luck continued when we popped into the charity shop by the bus stop. Bill found a couple books and I made a beeline for the large plastic tub that had a few things of yarn in it. The tag said €1, so I grabbed a couple hanks of brown wool, three balls of mohair, and a cake of a thin yarn that I suspected was a wool blend of some kind, perhaps with silk.
I did the burn test on the mauve yarn and it is indeed mohair. The thin yarn is definitely mostly wool. Not sure if the rest is silk or plant fibre of some sort, but it feels lovely. That and the brown wool are now chilling in the freezer. I didn't see any evidence of moth damage, but might as well be safe. And when my coffee and I were united once again, it was magical. Hope you have some magical moments in your day, too!
Monday, April 29, 2024
Nuclear War: A Scenario by Annie Jacobsen
Nuclear War: A Scenario
by Annie Jacobsen
ISBN 9781911709596
Nuclear war is an insane concept. Nevertheless, here we are in a world brimming with weapons that can destroy life as we know it many, many times over. In this book, Anne Jacobsen describes what would/could happen in the event of a rogue leader launching a nuclear weapon at the United States. She bases this on interviews, research, and access to the declassified information that is currently available. The book is incredibly well-written and reads like a thriller, as she describes, minute-by-minute, what would happen both with the nuclear warhead in its journey towards the target and with the US government as they react to the fact of an impending nuclear strike. She talks to people who have been in situations and jobs where they were well-versed in the procedures that would ensue. She explains what such a strike would do to the target area and the people in it. She talks about the possibility of a nuclear detonation in space that would immediately stop the US electric grid from functioning. The people she talks to admit that while the goal of having nuclear arsenals is deterrence, all of the plans and protocols go out the window in the event of an actual launch.
The book is subtitled, A Scenario, and it is structured in that way. The author is telling a story, based on fact as far as is possible. She lays out a scenario in which a 'mad king'--in this case in North Korea--launches a nuclear strike against the United States. How would people in the US and elsewhere respond? Would communication between the US and Russia occur and would it help to prevent more catastrophe or would things escalate? The situation she describes seems all too plausible. The book is very timely, describing as it does the nuclear arsenals that are precariously sitting all over the globe and in the oceans, while unhinged leaders feel an increasing need to appear powerful. This is an extremely important book that is also so well-written that it's a page-turner. Everyone should read it.
I thank NetGalley, the publisher, and the author for a digital review copy.
Friday, April 26, 2024
Fill 'Er Up!
The other day we were in Letterkenny, having gone to pick up some books at the library. We were making our way back up the town to the bus stop, when I glanced in a bakery window as I passed. They had a few lovely loaves of bread piled up, so we went in to get a multi-seed cob. They wisely put the pastry case around the till. It was lunchtime, we were a bit peckish, and we gave in, choosing 'fresh cream' eclairs. We were disappointed at first bite, but it was my own fault, really. I interpreted the label the way I wanted to and after 10 years in this country, I should have known better.
The first time we had eclairs here, we were surprised to find them filled with a strange stiff cream-like substance and indeed, they had some of those in the pastry case. Before we came here, we'd always had eclairs filled with what in the US would be like a creamy pudding, like the creamy layer in a Boston Cream Pie. They don't have exactly that here, except sometimes in frozen profiteroles, but they do have what they call custard. Some years ago, we went to a gathering of other immigrants from the US and a couple of Irish people. I made apple crisp and what I would call butterscotch pudding. The Irish woman had never heard of butterscotch or pudding (which usually means dessert in general here), but she loved it. I gave her the rest to take home, explaining to her how I made it. The custard here is similar to what I know as pudding, but thinner and doesn't come in different flavors like chocolate, butterscotch, lemon. It's just custard. So when we got the eclairs, for some reason I thought maybe fresh cream meant custard, since it clearly wasn't the weird stiff stuff. It didn't. It just meant fresh non-stiff whipped cream. Now, I adore whipped cream. When I was a kid and we were on a cruise, I had a severe disappointment when the baked Alaska at dinner one night turned out to be covered in meringue and not the whipped cream I was expecting! So whipped cream is always fine with me. And it was fine in the eclair I had, but it wasn't spectacular. The eclair was OK. I won't get another one, though.
Bill and I both have books in at the library and are waiting to see if the others we're waiting for come in this week. Either way, next week we will make another trip to the library. We will stop at the bakery for another multi-seed cob, which is delicious. We will not get eclairs. But we might just have try with something else. I'll let you know.
What are eclairs filled with where you are?
Thursday, April 25, 2024
Follow That Thought!
Yesterday, out of the blue and who knows why, the thought, 'lemon ricotta' popped into my head. This seemed like a very good idea indeed, so when we were out doing our errands, I picked up a litre of milk, came home, and began. I had a net bag of three organic lemons that a friend had given me, so I washed those and grated the zest. I squeezed out the juice and set the saucepan of milk on the induction hob to heat up, stirring frequently. When it was just starting to get a few small bubbles on top, I dumped in the lemon juice. It curdled right away, but I stirred for a couple more minutes before taking it off the heat and letting it sit for 15 minutes. Because the curds were very small, I poured it into my fine mesh strainer to let the whey drain. I put the ricotta into a container and stirred in about half of the lemon zest. I put the other half in the freezer. I let the ricotta sit to cool, adding back a bit more whey as needed, because it firms up as it sits. After it was cool, I stirred in more whey and some desiccated coconut.
This morning, I had some for breakfast--OMG! It is so delicious! I've made ricotta plenty of times, but never like this and I don't know why. It won't be the last time, though. I love it! It's perfect for spring and summer, too. This morning I had it mixed with a sliced banana, some blueberries, and a couple of chopped dates. I don't know where the thought came from, but I'm glad I followed it to the end result.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)