As I’ve mentioned before, I roast my way through vast amounts of seeds, nuts and oats every once in a while – both to replenish my quick-grab stock of salad-toppings and guilty-pleasure snacks and to refill hubby’s ginormic jar of breakfast granola. Usually I do this on one of those days, when little to no motivation and drive to do anything whatsoever coincide with the type of weather that makes you all but expect a loud blast of fanfares announcing the end of all days to any minute now.
As usual, as soon as the temperatures are rising noticeably, people get too greedy with soaking up every sunbeam they can catch – and a lot of them not only catch some vitamin d… they also catch a cold. The annual bout of spring-colds is making the rounds and I for my part seriously don’t feel like joining the sneeze choir. Actually, since I’ve found myself flat on my (red) nose three times – three out of three times during our vacations (yay for AC’s on full tilt in hotels and airplanes…) – last year, I simply refuse to get sick this year at all~!
“Yarrrrowlgrrrr~!” That’s tummy-speak for: “It’s seriously time for a change in seasons in the kitchen!” Much to hubby’s and my own tummies’ dismay, mother nature doesn’t seem to have read the memo yet. Well, actually, the winter-(food)-blues isn’t all that bad just yet, but the idea of Spring, fresh veggies, berries and, most of all, our regions fresh asparagus is starting to dig serious roots into our subconscious these days.
Mid-February, Valentine’s Day to be precise, somewhere in south-western Germany. Just like every year, your’s truly is peering out of the window, briefly considering using the day’s dinner plans as an excuse to throw on The LBD… but no. There’s not much fun in wearing a dress when you need to cover it up in at least 4 more layers of fabric in order to survive a 20-minute-walk without frostbite~!
Like I’ve mentioned last week, Winter, capital W and all, has arrived. While that’s generally a questionable blessing in our parts, it also means the time for our annual escape to a cosy, reed capped cottage just peeking over the top of the dam out onto the crashing waves of the North Sea on Sylt has come. Goodbye cold, miserable, grey, constant drizzle, hello North Sea!
Happy New Year everyone~! I hope you all had a blast taking the first step into round 2018. As always, with the first couple of days of every year, quite a number of well-deserved hangovers and well-intentioned new years’ resolutions have probably gone out of the window for a lot of people already – which reminds me… time to get working on my “treat yourself with a breakfast worth getting out of bed for more often” resolution~!
Aha! Once more, the Chef’s Guild has nudged me to venture into new lands with a batch of mussels in tow. Like I said in my Red Curry Mussel Soup post, it took some time for me to take a step out of my rather mediterranean-colored comfort zone when it comes to mussels – and even though I still return to that style on a regular basis, I have no qualms about rolling up my sleeves and get to work when a new idea takes root in my head.
Time for a twist on a light and lively winter classic before we can get on with the signature stomach-swelling and button-popping of the upcoming Holidays~!
Up until a few years ago, jerusalem artichokes were something only to be found in natural remedy- and health product stores, disguised as or processed into diabetes supplements or diet products supposed to curb hunger by filling your tummy prior to a meal. Or, in the case of the region a bit south of our corner of the world, turned into a seriously strong booze.
Once again I couldn’t keep my culinary curiosity in check~ I confess, I’ve been snooping around top-league Restaurant Menus for giggles again and, while the hot months of the year kind of left something to be desired on the menus of our local Michelin Star-sporting establishments, I was able to spot something to really pique my interest just a few weeks ago – a starter involving a salmon mousse, fancily smoked salmon from an even fancier sounding manufacturer halfway around the world that is, and an “air” made from chanterelle mushrooms and parmesan.