Sushi Occitania
August 10, 2005
images from l to r: sushi occitania, messy kitchen, pantry chef making tomato chutney
It’s a chic-free zone and we’re not fussed about what we wear in the kitchen or anywhere else for that matter.
Sushi Occitania
yaki nori
brown rice prepared in fresh gazpacho (aka homegrown bloody mary mix)
courgette spaghettini
pesto
olives lucques
rosé (just a few drops to glue the nori shut)
Roll up the ingredients and eat. If you don’t have a sushi mat you can use a piece of baker’s parchment folded double. If you don’t have yaki nori, use barely blanched and wrung-out swiss chard as the outer leaf.
(Please read more… )
debra at 14:19 | Comments (5) | post to del.icio.us
So except for the vodka…
August 6, 2005
We thought that homegrown bloody marys would be an appropriate drink to celebrate his 44th birthday and to give the yurt a proper yurt-warming. All of the ingredients except the ever-important electrolytic enhancors were homegrown or grown within 2 kilometres of the yurt. Thankfully more homegrown (from only 4,5km away) was gifted later. Gawd bless us.
technorati tags: sustainable, organic gardening, vodka, yurt
debra at 12:48 | Comments (1) | post to del.icio.us
Blighted blackberries, all you can eat
August 5, 2005
In the valley, all of the climbing berry bushes are suffering from blight. Blackberries, raspberries, rusty and yellow leaved are making the locals depressed. My neighbour Jean-Louis tells me, ‘Take them all, I just can’t stand the sight of it’. ‘You want me to take all of your blackberries?!’ Even when I offer to bake him a blackberry pie he makes it clear that he just wants the blackberries out of his life forever. As if to spite the bush he tells me that he’ll never grow blackberries again.
Maybe it’s because they’re not wild that they taste a bit bland, maybe it’s the over-watering, maybe it’s the blight. It’ll take me a few summers to know the difference, but I climb in the tangle to duke it out with the wasps, who are for some reason unusually passive this summer. Maybe they also can’t stand the thought of a crop of blighted blackberries. They’re just buzzing around and don’t seem to mind me shooing them off the dull and heavy berries. ‘Just please take them away,’ they’re saying in wasp-talk.
Speaking of dull and heavy, afternoons at river’s edge we just loll about and let the sun do it’s sun thing, chez former folly of the sun king.
debra at 9:00 | Comments (1) | post to del.icio.us
