Austen and others

 A whole array, panoply, cornucopia, of reading this week. Great weather for sitting outside, not too many mosquitoes, yet. Not too hot for this delicate temperate climate reader.

Going all at once, depending on mood, are some great novels 

The Divine Miz Moon recommended this, and now I do too. 

It's a modern day Pride and Prejudice set in Pakistan with the lives of the five Binat daughters, their hapless father, cheated out of his inheritance, left with little but a prestigious name, the mother very aware of the necessity of the daughters' marrying well, and the postcolonial society they all move in.

It's witty and fast moving snd not only great echoes of the Bennet sisters, but of Pakistani people I've known, especially the wording Mrs Binat gets herself tangled up in. 

Great summer reading, and really likeable too. This was Kamal's first novel, which might in part account for the high energy. 

Then I found this by accident, bargain price for Kindle, and though I rarely buy books, I went for it. 

A Margery Sharp I've never read, didn't know there was such a thing. She's always light-hearted but really astute, loves independent women who speak up, launch their own lives, even if not always wisely.  This  one l don't know anything about other than she wrote it and it comes with a bio. Done.

Gardens have suddenly became a theme.  I just discovered my library system has a garden themed book group. It's been on for a while. I looked back over earlier selections and found I hadn't missed a thing, I'd read them all! This is the current selection

It's a series of episodes taking place over centuries in a small Massachusetts town, starting with the founder, a young English woman. 

Various people drift in and by, including Johnny Appleseed, Emily Dickinson, you get the idea. It's a great read, combining possible history with myth and folk beliefs and mystic connections with animals. I think readers who love fantasy probably love Alice Hoffman.

West with Giraffes is being sidelined for now but there's plenty of time left on the loan, and A Woman of no Importance is back on my Kindle. Ashton Warner is in a longer loan, just as well.

If you have read any of them please let us hear how they worked for you. Always open to comments around here.

I had some great chats with neighbors yesterday, about plants, particularly mint, used a lot in Indian cooking, mainly spearmint. But I was given sample leaves of chocolate mint, too. 

And we got onto the subject of chai, which my next door neighbors, both of whom cook, drink just with the black tea not the spices but cooked in milk and sugar. I must try that, too. 

But I do like the spices. I can make a second cup from the same mix, I find, still good flavor though more muted the second time around.

Tea and reading. My current life.

Pocket coda, friendship coda with cicadas, chai coda, pasty coda

The coda on friendship: I did reference human friendship and everybody politely stayed within the frame of reference. But my friends include animals and plants. 

Two of these converged yesterday when the five year old grandchild visiting next door came to show me her new friends, cicadas in a jar. Just caught for a while to see them up close. 

She took one out to introduce me, and it gave a rattly squeak. I said he's talking to you. She: Yeah, when I pinch his butt he does that. Me: Do you think he's saying  ouch? She: Ohh. Maybe. Me: I like him. She: Yeah. Im putting him in the tree now. And off she went,  mission accomplished.

I doubt if I will live to experience another 17 year cicada season. So this was a great moment of friendship across race and species and age, all at once.

On to less weighty subjects.

More on the endless world of pockets, with another Pro Tip from Polly Pockets here. 

Here's another beloved linen shirt, altered to suit. Roll sleeves, cuffs long gone into some art or something, tail shortened to my liking. It already has a pocket but things can fall out if you bend to see stuff out walking. So it does need help.

As you see, the tail, complete with one button and button hole, still available. Which gave me a cool idea.

Before the cool idea, see that little pink item. It's a Tiny Pocket, a finger in the eye of manufacturers who love them. It's going on the chest opposite the side of the Useful Pocket on the pink shirt. More than one way to achieve balance. Small can weigh large. And a couple of square inches of linen can be a political statement.

And the cool idea is: these two cut out pocket bits, where the shirt tail curve is the pocket top, very well finished already, the front side finished, too, and only the hem and underarm side need my finishing. 

Tune in here for Simple Stuff I Can Do to Get Pockets and Smash the  Patriarchy.

This will happen tomorrow in daylight. 

Meanwhile another version of pasties, this time they probably have a name I don't know, and if you do, please say.

Granny Smiths, with nutmeg, cinnamon, golden raisins, small amount of sugar, usual tortilla dough except bolted flour. 

The flour is very delicate in this recipe, probably needs regular wholewheat combined. That's why it looks a bit lacy. I mean artisanal.

They were very good though, plenty more to come, and triggered another Clever Tip for Cooks Running to Catch up with the Big Kids. 

I finally got around to finding a little shaker for the confectioners sugar, see here. Filled it before I could say I was too tired, and there it is.  This has taken years to accomplish.

When I was first learning American labeling, a friend who cooks and bakes like a pro, gave me a handwritten itrecipe for her lemon bars, which I've since made many times for appreciative audiences. 

I noted the abbreviation she used for the sugar and asked her "what's this ten times sugar?" Such a look of compassion she gave me, never forgotten. 

And now it's short stories and chai.

That's another of those trap words like tea. 

If a Brit invites  you to tea, you're not going to get a cup of hot water with a teabag in it.  You've been invited to a meal, all baked from scratch. At my house, anyway,  including the bread in the little sandwiches, and the jam, a couple of kinds of cake, maybe a savory, and a fresh pot of tea, choice of lemon or milk. Nice cups. Napkins. Clean tablecloth.

When an Indian offers you chai you get this recipe I made, made slowly and with care, with milk. 

Yet chai just means tea. And you can get spice mixes called chai which are lovely, but not the classic Indian recipe.  It all depends on context.

I blame the English for all this confusion. For everything, really.

Latest dispatch from the chai front and other reports as they break

I tried the chai last evening, as a replacement for my golden milk, and it went pretty well. The mix is a bit heavy on pepper for my taste, but it's a great improvement to hold down the sweetening. Just enough sugar to oppose the spices is fine for me. 

You use just a couple of teaspoons of the spice mix, simmer several minutes in a milk and water mix, strain and drink.

I might start trying out my own mixes. There's no ingredient list with this mix, but I identified cloves, cardamom, fennel seed, coriander seed,  caraway seeds, nutmeg, ginger and the base black tea, very finely ground tea though, not the big leaves. All of which I have.

And I found out how to dry the mix after use, by accident. I'd emptied the strainer back into the pan, thought it was switched off. Well, it was on the lowest setting. Good thing I went in there later, before the pan burned through. 

So I now have a little collection of dried spices which might work nicely the next time I make crackers. They still have flavor but it's muted, after what it's been through.

Today was a pasty day, mushrooms, hot sausage, onions. This is enough for two filings. 

And it was a day for while I'm at it cooking, meaning the oven will be at 400°f for the pasty baking, so I may as well roast a head of garlic while I'm at it.  Pasties need about 20 minutes, garlic nearer an hour.

So the garlic, muffled in foil, drizzled with olive oil, then completely enclosed, set into its own pan, went in while the dough was resting.

Today's dough, it's different every time, was lovely to handle, velvety, not sticky, just a treat. I rested it only 20 minutes, not the official hour, but I wasn't making tortillas, so I think that counts. And I pretty much guessed the quantities. 

I remembered at the last minute that I needed Parmesan cheese. And that it was solidly frozen. So I thought arghgh, then, wait, I bet my microplane will work for this. I mainly use it for zesting. And it did work lovely.

Then when I was cleaning up afterwards, I noticed on the blade guard

Now, no fair expecting me to read it. I was just feeling so smart for having this cool idea.

Anyway, a nice lunch happened, despite the cook.

Here's the garlic nicely roasted to where you can scoop it out to spread. The spoonful shows you. This will go into a jar for all kinds of uses, including garlic bread.

And the pasty was pretty good. Dressed up with a sprig of sage. See the blossoms? Like snapdragons. Also known as antirrhinums. 

The rhin bit tells you noses are involved, and it turns out this muzzle shaped flower head is named from its resemblance to a calf's nose! It's a brilliant piece of engineering.

That front petal bit serves to stop too small insects from pollinating it. They have to be big enough to push past it, so the designated bees get in and wannabes don't.

I saw this in action when I picked it, a couple of tiny insects trying  unsuccessfully to get in, and sort of wandering around looking for another door, I suppose. 

It occurs to me, a bit slow on the uptake, that cooking and inventing in the kitchen has taken the place for me, of making and exhibiting art.

It's an art form, as one of my art teachers pointed out to me reproachfully, when she found a few years ago I wasn't much into food, at least talking about it. 

It's art and invention and skills and technique and realizing connections you hadn't before. Just like studio art. And letting things happen and experimenting and listening to your materials. And rarely following instructions.

I'm finding that when I would go into the studio in the past is when I go into the kitchen now, with much the same attitude. Just a general idea, which will become a meal on a plate.

 Sharing with Handsome Son and neighbors is the new version of the art opening. 

Cool.

Chai and Tunisian mitering

The chai arrived today from Reluctant Trading. They're expensive and they're good.

And the smell when I opened the airtight container was wonderful. Just what you hope for. I could identify cardamon, cloves, nutmeg, other spices. I'm looking forward to trying it. 

I can probably reproduce this myself, but these guys have wonderful spices, so I'm trying them first.

In other news, I learned a new skill. I made a Mitered Square in Tunisian crochet. 

I found I had a couple of Tunisian hooks I didn't know I had, including this plastic one which is much easier to use than the long metal one. 

It has a cable which enables long rows of stitches. Like the cables on circular knitting needles except the crochet ones are finished with a stopper instead of meeting another needle end as for knitting.

The cable is a bit resistant and I may need to heat it a bit to make it more flexible so it doesn't keep turning the hook over.

And I tried a new idea. Instead of making a crocheted chain, I cast on stitches as if to knit, and got a nice firm starting edge.

You need an odd number of stitches to make this work, so I cast on 23, enough to try out the technique. 

It's done in simple stitch, with the middle three stitches picked up together. This is why you need the odd number, to allow for that middle stitch with an even number on each side of it.

And, as you see, it worked. Very pleased about this new learning. I can use this as a scissor tag, too. It needs to be steamed because it's curly still.

You can make this with a regular crochet hook, no need for the long type. 

I listened to Donna Leon for the short time it took to make it.

Spaghetti and meatballs for lunch, roast chicken and yellow potatoes for supper. The last of the fig cake at teatime.  Such excitement.

Wonderful walk today in real sunshine. 

The kitchen front, two takes

 I'm currently reading The Kitchen Front, by Jennifer Ryan, for which I have been waiting I dunamany weeks.

Set in wartime Britain with food rationing and the workarounds important particularly to women struggling to cope with what really was near starvation, it's an interesting take with all kinds of emotional buttons pushed. A cooking contest, the winner to be a presenter on BBC radio, is at the hub of events. It presents recipes as it goes, too.

It's a bit unfair to read this after Austen, Leon, or Winspear, because the writing level doesn't compare. But I like the concept so I'll finish it. 

And she did her homework on the history of the time, full credit there. If you're not familiar with the British food rationing of the early 40s, her opening account of a week's allowance of food (only if available, not guaranteed), for an adult,  might be an eye opening surprise. Other scenes, too, but I'll leave you to read it.

Meanwhile on the other kitchen front, D's suggestion yesterday about ginger strawberry jam came to pass. Small batch jams are good. Just enough to enjoy and give a bit to the neighbors.

Here's the makings. Small batches aren't a big deal.

And this is on the way to unboildownable. See soup pot on the other burner, we'll get to that.

Here's the resulting jam. I boiled it for quite a while longer than usual, and I hope I succeeded in getting it to gel. Once it's cool I'll know. Its delicious, with that bite of ginger. If it doesn't gel, it's fruit sauce.

And since I urgently needed lunch, a soup of butternut squash, red lentils and cashews also happened at basically the same time. The broth is a Rachel Ray vegetable one, and very good. 

The sprig of thyme on the soup is more than just pretty. It gives a lovely delicate flavor too. The hot soup seems to release the flavor molecules or something. Anyway you get flavor without cooking it in. 

The Thai basil you've often seen over the winter on my soup is just now starting again from my saved seeds, and when that's advanced enough I'll use it. I grow it as an annual.

The kitchen smelled like America's test kitchen! All good stuff going.

In less happy food news I opened the latest package of the English breakfast tea that I've been drinking and enjoying for years, same company, same high price. Name redacted because they have deeper pockets and more lawyers than I.

I noticed the packaging had changed but attached no importance to it. Then when I opened it and took a sniff expecting the usual lovely scent, I was surprised. Hardly any. I made a pot as usual, same amount, pot, everything. It tasted of nothing. 

So I got an immediate refund. I'd got it through Amazon, yes, I know, but I rarely do use Amazon, and for once was glad. They instantly processed the refund, instructed me not to return the two large bags, maybe foodstuff related, maybe Covid, and I was done. No need to contact the tea company.

Wanting to be fair, I went to the tea folks website to explain and see what's up. Their customer service asks you to email, because they're now remote. Fine. I went there. And the email is disabled. Nothing daunted, I went to their Twitter account to message them privately. And found their DMs are disabled.  

I don't want to go nuclear and put out a public tweet, so I'm leaving it there. I'm done. I wonder if they've changed hands. The quality drop won't get them far with people who like tea enough to buy high end leaves, no matter how fancy the packaging.

Meanwhile I went to Reluctant Trading and I'm going to get a bit of chai mix to see if that works for me as a change from English breakfast. I've tried other companies' English breakfast tea, and it didn't compare, so maybe a change will be good.

I've been given chai by Indian friends and it was like drinking hot candy. But I wonder if I can make my own without sugar, since I don't like sugar in any hot drink other than chocolate. We'll see. I'll report back when it arrives. No rush.