G is for Goulash

ABC Wednesday
August 24th, 2016

The letter is G for Goulash

Not part of my repertoire, 

but I have such fond memories of the goulash made by a family friend, 

when I was a child.

And so the other day I made a pot of Goulash

and although not exactly enchanted by it

I was really very pleased, and vowed to make more. 

I made my Goulash American style,

 with ground beef and tomatoes and

elbow macaroni

But I am reminded of the wonderful history of

Hungarian Goulash

and the practically of taking along a

dish that cooks while you herd cattle.

   

This thick, hearty dish is popular with herdsmen in Hungary.

They make it in a cast-iron kettle hung above an open fire, out in the fields. 

The herdsmen have the best ingredients at hand -  prime quality beef, and as it cooks while

they work it goes well with their lifestyle.

During the 19th century, when there was a general raising of

national awareness of Hungarian culture

language and 'gastronomical delights'

this peasant dish came to be accepted by town folk, and even the elite.

Today it is a tourists' favourite, and is featured

in all the best restaurants in Budapest, 

throughout Hungary, and with

slight national variations in many other

countries of Europe.

You ask for Gulyas - Hungarian for Herdsman.

Here is a Classical Hungarian Goulash Recipe

Heat up a couple of tablespoons of oil or lard in a heavy pot and braise 2 medium chopped up onions

until they are a nice golden brown, - 

then add two cups of beef cubes, stirring a bit until they become brown.

Add 2 cloves of garlic, 2 diced carrots, 1 diced parsnip, a couple of celery leaves 

and 2 or 3 medium potatoes, sliced, 

i tablespoon of Hungarian paprika and

a teaspoon of caraway seed.  

along with one bay leaf. some ground black pepper and salt to taste.

When the vegetables and meat are almost done add 2 medium tomatoes, 

peeled and chopped and the sliced green peppers.

Let it cook on low heat for another few minutes.

If you want to be really Classical here is where you

bring the mixture to a boil and add the CSIPETKE, or

small Hungarian noodles. 

A Hungarian Herdsman in Traditional Finery

doubtless ordering a bowl of Goulash.

Hungarian Style.

Here is a Hungarian Folk Song and some scenes that will perhaps

give you a taste of Hungary and its culture.

For more interesting Gs click here at ABC Wednesday,

with thanks to Roger, Denise, Leslie and

all grand helpers.

F for Fiddlehead

ABC Wednesday
August 17th, 2016

The letter is F for Fiddlehead

Chock full of vitamin A and C fiddlehead greens are a nutritional powerhouse rich in antioxidants, and a great source of fibre and omega-3 fatty acids.  The furled fronds of a young fern, the fiddleheads are harvested early in the season before the frond has opened and are cut fairly close to the ground.

Over-picking will eventually kill the plant, and it is important to maintain sustainable harvesting, whether you are growing them commercially or out in the woods  where it is damp, and the ferns grow freely.

Fiddleheads have been part of traditional diets for centuries in much of France, across Asia, and among Native Americans.  With a flavouring similar to asparagus this springtime veggie goes well in soups, salads and pastas - and quiche too!

Bring some potatoes, celery, onion, water, stock and salt and pepper to a boil, - cover and simmer about twenty minutes or until veggies are tender.  Add fiddleheads and simmer until they are tender too and you have a nice creamy fiddlehead soup.

Of course there is a Band, too that is called Fiddlehead Soup, - one which has a delightfully unique sound well known in the community in which they play (in eastern Ontario, Canada)

Fiddlehead Soup sings and plays English, Scottish, Irish, French, Spanish, Icelandic, Finnish, Northern Sami, Uyghur and Italian music, as well as their own compositions.  (I am not familiar with Uyghur music, but I plan to listen and discover.....

Glenna Hunter, Doug Hendry and Ursa Meyer. Band members.
The ladies are mother and daughter.

There is also a well known Canadian Literary Magazine called The Fiddlehead, 

and a Radio Pod Cast associated with it, both of which can be

found online.

For more interesting Fs click here to visit ABC Wednesday,

with thanks to Roger, Denise, Leslie and those helpers who frantically visit

the contributors to ABC Wednesday each week.

This and That

Saturday, August 13th, 2016

I sit down to compose a post, without a thought in my head about what I will write about.  The cat joins me, pussy footing it between the keyboard and the screen, as is her wont.

She visits me in the Loom Room too, where I am still struggling with the knots that secure the new warp to the end of the old warp - the dummy warp, - cosying up close, kissing my wrist.  I try to slip in to tackle this task when she is outside in the garden, but somehow she knows and before I have two or three knots tied she is there ...mother's little helper!!!

No warp knots tied today, but I did make a most delicious Italian Prune crumble - had a bowl with a smidgin of ice cream and felt thoroughly spoiled.  The kitchen is full of fruit and herbs and today I bought some pickling salt to make bread and butter pickles the easy way (recipe follows).

The Cobbler is 'just a cobbler' but I added a
little pear liquor to the filling and probably a bit more butter so that the topping was lovely and rich.
Prunes don't look terribly appetizing, but a half a cup of brown sugar, a half a cup of white, some crispy oats and they are heavenly.....

The pickles are a cinch to make - the recipe from my dear friend, Margaret, who alas is gone (as are so many of my dear friends...)

You need to bring to a boil 4 cups of vinegar, 4 cups of white sugar, one quarter cup of pickling salt, one and one half teaspoons of celery seed, one tsp of tumeric and one and one half  teaspoons of mustard seed. Pour over thinly sliced pickling cucumbers (as many as you can get your hands on..)
Stir every day for five days, and then store in the refrigerator in ice cream pails until they are all gone.  So tasty, and so convenient....

After a cool July the weather has been exceedingly warm, - 36 degrees C today,   I went early to town, while the night coolness was still lingering, and took the car.  It has been my determination to get familiar and happy with using Charles' electric cart, but it being one that he used in the orchard, built sturdy and big, I feel it somewhat cumbersome and for the same reason that I don't really like to admit that I am almost ninety-two, I am not happy being seen riding around on a cart for 'old people'. I believe this condition is caused by too much ego, and I do try to be more humble and accepting.......

Perhaps I will take the cart to ukulele practice tomorrow and I can practise being 'umble as well as strumming "Hello, my Baby" and "Buffalo Gals".

I listened to a video of the British Ukulele Orchestra and was so impressed

 and filled with admiration!

And I can't even whistle!!!!

The Lyrical Painter

ABC Wednesday
August 10th, 2016

The letter is E for Sir Alfred East

Sir Alfred East was born on the 15th of December 1844 in Kettering, Northamptonshire.  He studed at the Glasgow School of Art but was in his late thirties when he left the family shoe making business for the precarious calling of professional artist.

For the next thirty years he immortalized the rich landscape of Britain, 

and was known as a 'lyrical' painter.

The Reedy Mere and Sunlit Hills

His romantic landscapes show the influence of the Barbizon school and in 1906 he published a book, "The Art of Landscape Painting in Oil Colour".

The Lonely Road

An Autumn Afterglow

Alfred East  achieved honours worldwide.

  He was awarded a knighthood in 1910 by King Edward V11,

and died in London on Sunday, September 13th, 1913.

I would love to have the Reedy Mere and Sunlit Hills hanging in my home!!!

For more interesting Es visit here at ABC Wednesday

with thanks to Roger, Denise, Leslie and all energetic helpers..

D is for Dervish

ABC Wednesday

The letter is D for Dervish

Not the traditional Persian Whirling Dervish of the Sufi

but that icon of Irish music, the Dervish Band (originally The Boys from Sligo)

Although the name derived from the Sufi, (known for ecstatic dancing) might seem to be an odd choice for an Irish band the parallels to Irish music are strong - the Dervish being people who become enraptured by the music, and swept away spiritually.

Cathy Jordan, the lead singer with the band, says, "There is so much of that present in the music that we play, that sense of  being caught up in a higher love, a profound spirituality.  It seemed like a

good choice for a name."

For more interesting Ds drop into ABC Wednesday, here.

With many thanks to Roger, Denise and

dedicated helpers...

The Garden in Mid-Summer

Sunday,  July 31st, 2016

Great is the sun, and wide he goes

Through empty heaven with repose;

And in the blue and glowing days

More thick than rain he showers his rays.

Though closer still the blinds we pull

To keep the shady parlour cool,

Yet he will find as chink or two

To slip his golden fingers through.

The dusty attic spider-clad

He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;

And through the broken edge of tiles

Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.

Meantime his golden face around

He bares to all the garden ground,

And sheds a warm and glittering look

Among the ivy's inmost nook.

Above the hills, along the blue,

Round the bright air with footing true,

To please the child, to paint the rose,

The gardener of the World, he goes.

Robert Louis Stevenson, Summer Sun

The weather in June and most of July was lovely.  Not too hot, - little showers almost

every late afternoon, and sometimes the wonderful sound of raindrops on the roof, 

all through the night.

It caused the gardens and the grass to sigh with delight and grow by leaps and bounds.

However, this last week, as we anticipate August, the Sun has harnessed

all his golden steeds and they have a merry ride through blue sky and summer clouds,

while we, down here in the valley, rise early to enjoy

the coolness of the morning, water all the pots and 

do essential garden chores, and then busy ourselves with

blinds drawn, fans whirring and the A/C drying out

all the fresh summer air.

We had no air conditioning on the farm, but we set a sprinkler on the flat

roof of the house, and just the sound of water falling outside

the windows was enough to excite the imagination into some semblance of coolness.

Mornings see me out early watering pots and putting aside

pails of water for those plants that start wilting in the noonday sun.

The beds retain the moisture more efficiently, and there is the usual little jungle
that passes for an English garden.  Truly, it is too riotous
with tall yellow barn flowers and rudabeckia to qualify as a beautiful
pastel English garden, but where the perennial sweetpeas provide a background
for the purple bee balm there is a faint hint.....

Cast your eyes elsewhere though and it's mid-summer-madness-in-yellow, most everywhere.

The lilies have been lovely, - especially the Regals with their intoxicating scent.

Only this one red lily remains, - it surprised me one morning amongst all the yellow daisies

This last week the pink roses at the front gate have begun their second flush, but what really thrills me is the replacement  for the Abraham Darby, lost to the frost.

It is not vigorous, but very sweet and nicely scented, and I think it will do well in this more protected spot.

(the pretty apricot rose down below is the Abraham Darby, - blogger won't let me move it here where it belongs - and I don't suppose I will be able to squeeze Mister
Lincoln in here either, so I will add him down below, as he has been blooming continuously amongst the scarlet Bee Balm)

And the phlox - in full bloom in both the front and back gardens,  It makes me dream of a 'moonlight' garden, with its wonderful white virginity.

The oleander that spends the winter indoors is blooming its heart out this year, and has grown about four feet tall - it will have to be repotted.

The piece de resistance at the moment is the Rose of Sharon that guards the steps to the house.

Not the tidiest of shrubs as it drops its lovely blooms each day,

but spectacular and very eye-catching....

The little rainy season brought us some gorgeous skies, and by slipping out the back

I was able to get some nice pictures, - even here in town with all the wires and poles.

For those of  you who acknowledge the White Rabbit and are inclined to put any faith

in his ability to bring luck to the dog days of August, don't forget,

tomorrow morning, - first thing - toss him a verbal obeisance.....

Chopin

ABC  Wednesday
July 27, 2016
The letter is C for Chopin

In my quest to fulfill my Bucket List by playing once again all my many CD's I found in the stack today a cherished disc of a Chopin Program performed by Gwendolyn Moore, of Turtle Island, Washington, and I was immediately flooded with memories of the day my sister-in-law took me along when she went for a music lesson under Gwendolyn's tutelage.  A lovely day which ended with me buying two of her discs, one a program by Schuman, and the other a beautiful performance of Frederick Chopin's music  -  Chopin with a "C" - perfect!

Considered Poland's greatest composer, Chopin was born March 1st, 1810, growing up in a middle class family.  He was a child prodigy who  published his first composition at seven.

In Vienna, where he had made his performance debut in 1829, the audiences loved his highly technical "yet poetically expressive' playing.  In 1832 he moved to Paris, and although his delicate style didn't always enthrall the large concert audiences who were used to Franz Schubert and Beethoven, Chopin soon found employment as as recitalist and teacher.

Though Chopin had youthful love affairs and was at one time engaged, none of his relationships lasted more than a year, - until he met the French novelist Amantine  Lucile Aurore Dupin, aka George Sand.

But that's another story for another time......

Here is a lovely recording of Chopin's Nocturne in E Flat Major and I'm sorry I don't know the name of the performer, but enjoy her beautiful rendition.

For more exciting Cs visit here at ABC Wednesday, with thanks to Roger, Denise and all their Creative helpers.

A Bucket List?

ABC Wednesday
July 20th, 2016
The Letter is B, for BUCKET List

It's not that I'm closing up shop, but my Bucket List is strangely reminiscent of preparing to Close the Doors for good.

No, no, - what I am trying to do is make life more serene, - stuffing the bucket full of things accomplished and stressful decisions made....

My Bucket List doesn't contain any exotic wishes - like visiting the Taj Mahal, riding elephants in Africa or crossing Canada by rail - it is much more prosaic, but just as satisfying.....

In one corner, tucked in beside the piano, I have a chest of drawers full of music, a CD stand bulging with discs, more CDs in the tall stand Charles made to hold them and the myriad DVDs we gathered over the years,as well as the LPs that that we treasured when that's where beautiful music came from, to fill the home.  Some of them not sent twirling for years........

So that's No. 1 on my Bucket List - to listen to each of them at least once more, and keep the CD player hot on the go, from morning until evening, when occasionally I will watch a DVD, or even an old VHS that languishes towards the back.  Haven't watched On Golden Pond for years.......

And No. 2 would have to involve snapshots!  Have you any idea how many pictures you can accumulate in eight decades???  And the frames to fill them....?

Speaking of frames, how about all the pictures hanging on the walls, waiting for a little tape to be affixed assigning their final destination.  Oh, who would like what?  This will have to be No. 3 on the list, I think....

And the genealogy papers. All the emails and correspondence I saved when that was my great passion - the little notes that found their way into the family tree but still linger in files and notebooks.  No. 4, for sure....

Well, you get the drift of how my Bucket List is going to evolve into one great clean-up and when I come to the end of it I will be living a life of great simplicity and satisfaction.

Time to go and change discs on the CD - I have been listening to Louis Armstrong's Golden Jazz while I write.  Next in the queue is Nigel Kennedy's Violin Concertos...  the Concerto is too long to include, but here is a Kennedy recording that always brings tears.....

For more great Bs click here for ABC Wednesday,

 with thanks to Roger, Denise and all their helpers.

A for Auden

ABC Wednesday
July 13, 2016

The letter is A - Again
and it stands for W. H. Auden

The poet, Wystart Hugh Auden

Born in 1907 in York, England, to

George Augustus Auden and Constance Rosalie Bicknell Auden

British from birth, but American from 1946,

he was educated at Christ Church, Oxford.

After toying with atheism he returned to Christianity

and the Anglican Church 

W.H. Auden died in 1973 in Vienna, Austria

he is a favourite.....

More 'As' as we start another round, here, at ABC Wednesdasy

with thank to Roger, Denise and Able helpers.

A Rainy Day

Saturday, July 9th, 2016

When I woke at six this morning, grabbed a robe and quickly opened the back door to the garden for Bruce to find a convenient spot to make himself comfortable (euphemism),  I discovered that the rain had been coming down in torrents and had created a great huge puddle in the back lane, - probably wide and deep enough to launch a small boat with a paper flag.....

I immediately thought of the Saturday Farmers' Market and my daughter-in-law with all her marvelous loaves of bread, and cheese sticks and cinnamon buns that she would would be transporting to a rainy venue.

However, within a half an hour, while I had my first cup of coffee, I saw a patch of blue sky high in the sky, westward, and soon there were sunny skies reflected in the waters of the mini-lake...

The rain returned about noon, - by this time I was quite nonchalant about it, and happy to have a cool day and so much welcome moisture in the garden and the hills and forests.  Last year was so dreadful for heat and wild fires.

For the rest of the morning I buried myself in Julian Barnes' "Levels of Life".


A small book, in size, - but both entertaining and heart catching in content.

Julian Barnes speaks of the levels of life, - the drifting and soaring of his account of ballooning in the first third of the book;  the photographs taken by those early ballooners that gave us the opportunity to look at ourselves with increasing awareness of the earth, and the realization that Icarus was not a warning that this particular level of the heavens was off limits....  and then in the mid section, a faux biographic story of a love relationship between Sarah Bernhardt and Captain Fred Burnaby, on the level.

It is the last desolate essay on grief and mourning that I found so meaningful.  Written in memory of his wife, it is not the first book I have read on grief, - this area of human life that is so often camouflaged with silence and evasion, and probably not fully understood until we find personally that 'what is taken away is greater than the sum of what was there'.

I have just finished reading Julian Barnes' book "The Sense of an Ending" and it still sits open and marked on my desk to pages I want/need to re-read.  A short book, - really a long essay on memory and aging.  How in our younger years if we are not too busy with the exuberance of living we might now and then give thought to the other end of life, - the 'likely pains and bleakness' that age might bring, and imagine yourself being lonely, your friends all dying, the loss of status and desire.  Well, I don't exactly remembering spending much time thinking that far into the future or being so melancholy about it......

He also speaks of memory - and history.  How to him the ancient history is more stable and believable, whereas history as it is happening now is most deliquescent (had to look that up) and hard to pin down.

And memory, I find that unless I am well ordered and AWARE of everything I do I am inclined to have a very short memory - but my long memory is fabulous!!  All sorts of things keep coming back to me from my childhood - how else would I have remembered when I was talking to my daughter on the phone (I have forgotten what we were talking about that stirred the memory)  the little ditty that  we used to replace the beginning of the Anglican Morning Prayer.

Dearly beloved brethren, the scripture moveth us in sundry places

 to go and watch the donkey races

and when the races have been run

 we'll go and see which donkey won..

There is also a story contained within the book but it was Barnes' comment on this last part of life that I kept nodding my head in agreement over - "discovering, for example, that as the witnesses to your life diminish, there is less corroboration and therefore less certainty as to what you are or have been."  That gives one pause for thought.........

A quote from the book...  "We live with such easy assumptions, don't we?  For instance, that memory equals events plus time.  But it's all much odder than this.  Who was it said that memory is what we thought we'd forgotten?  And it ought to be obvious to us that time doesn't act as a fixative, rather as a solvent.  But it's not convenient - it's not useful - to believe this;  it doesn't help us get on with our lives; so we ignore it"......

Zorba the Greek

ABC Wednesday
July 6th, 2016

The letter is Z
Z is for ZORBA  the Greek

Enjoy!!

For more enticing Zs zip along here to ABC Wednesday,

with thanks to Denise and Roger

and their zingy helpers

This and that, but mainly remembrances...

July 2nd, 2016

Oh dear, - I have to confess to forgetting the White Rabbit as the calendar turned over into July!!!

Too late to do anything about it when my messaging son reminded me of the required obeisance!!

Nothing to do but turn three times, repeating the required imprecations, and hope for the best.....

I went out into the garden to perform,

thinking that might be a place dear to the White Rabbit's heart

where he would be most inclined to bestow the delights of July upon me.....

(my version of an English Garden with faint hints of the jungle!!)

That was yesterday.....

Today I was doing up the breakfast dishes when my eye caught 

the little calendar that sits over the sink..

The second of July, - my dearest Aunt's birthday, 

but alas, she is long gone.

Nevertheless the many wonderful memories I have of her

brought happy moments and

remembrances of times past.

How I used to hang on to her arm when we went shopping on

Saturday afternoons....

the time I spilled iodine on her tortoiseshell 

brush and mirror set, and she was so kind and forgiving....

the beautiful knitted negligee my mother made for her trousseau

and then her fiance turned out to be a cad

and she remained single until the end of her days

but so dearly loved by all her nieces and nephews.

Oh, this first week in July.....

In a few days it will be the anniversary of my sister's birth,

and she has left me too, with dear memories...

I thought about how much I miss her telephone calls;

how my house is blessed with her beautiful needlework

and pottery.......

how much I appreciate the close contact of her children on Facebook..

little messages and glimpses into their lives and those

of her grandchildren.

Well, Time taketh away, but Giveth, too...

Lovely moments to recall and be grateful for.

Things to laugh about, relationships that helped us grow

and were such a dear support.

To these two lovely ladies, my love and thanks....

Those hearts that we have treasured.......

And speaking of birthdays.....

our first born will be seventy this month....

Geez....