Leatherheads

Looking for a lighthearted movie? Enjoy a vintage vibe? Want to warm up gently to football season? Try out George Clooney’s Leatherheads. This movie didn’t draw a lot of attention when it premiered which I think is a darn shame. The quality is classic and the acting enjoyable. It tells the story (fictional characters, of course, but loosely based on a few people from the time) of the beginning of pro-football. In the twenties, college football was king, but pro wasn’t even a blip on the radar. Funny when you think about the Superbowl mania and America’s obsession today. Littered with peppy characters, good ol’ fashion slapstick, and plenty of 1920s charm, this film is worth more than a few chuckles and a bowl of popcorn. Keeping with the time period, much of the movie is reminiscent of old Hollywood comedy. Clooney gets to do what he does best in comedy, layering the charm with moments of unflattering panic; Rene Zellweger stings and sizzles in all her saucy glory; John Krasinski is sweet and endearing while giving us those moments of perfect comedic timing so loved in The Office. A ragtime soundtrack and lots of rich set design top off this fun jaunt down yesteryear’s lane. Also, we have this film to thank for Jim’s dashing interview haircut at the end of Season Three of The Office. Thank you, George Clooney. 

Cherry and Vanilla Clafoutis

This recipe is a little out of season now, thanks to my writing procrastination, but it is a winner for the next cherry season. I’ve made this twice now and had resoundingly positive revues both times. It is adapted from a recipe I found in the British version of a Country Living magazine, so pardon the imprecise measurements. I spent a while translating them on Google.  

Ingredients:

Butter, for greasing

2 ⅔ cup cherries, pitted

1⅔ to 2 cups whole milk (or cream with skim milk)

2 tsp vanilla

4 eggs, beaten

⅓ to ½ cup flour

⅓ to ½ cup sugar

Confectioner’s sugar for dusting

Heat oven to 390° or 400° (convection—add 25° if without convection). Grease a shallow baking dish with butter. Arrange pitted cherries in one layer. Heat milk and vanilla in saucepan until milk is scalded. Leave to infuse for 30 minutes. Whisk eggs into the flour gradually in a bowl. Stir in sugar. Slowly whisk in milk mixture. Pour batter over the cherries. Bake for 30-35 minutes until golden and just set—you may check by inserting a knife; clean, it is ready. Let cool for 10 minutes, then dust with sugar. 

Elizabeth Gaskell: On the Page and On Screen

Last night, my family watched the last part of Elizabeth Gaskell’s North and South. My dad requested that we order it through Netflix, having gotten hooked on Cranford  and Return to Cranford a month before. I find it hilarious that he will suddenly watch these period pieces with me, after having turned up his nose at Jane Austen adaptations for years. I guess it is the raw quality of the characters, the entanglements that do not only involve those of love. I was reminded why I love those stories so much, their complexity in covering so many issues and revolving around such dynamic characters. I thoroughly enjoy the series mentioned and recently had the pleasure of viewing Wives and Daughters as well.

I read North and South first, several years ago while in Germany. I bring a book when travelling for long waits in the airport and quiet moments before bed. This was the first time that I had a hard time putting my reading down, even with a foreign country to entertain. The story is such a page-turner! Every chapter left you dying to read on. From Margaret and John’s misinformed judgments to the upheaval between mill masters and union workers, I found I was at the mercy of the page. Of course, I saw the mini-series then and sought out Gaskell’s other works. I read Wives and Daughters, only to be left railing at the pages when I discovered the author had died before completing the last chapter. Thankfully, the TV adaptation does not inflict the same fate. I saw Cranford before reading it and was surprised by how short the written work was. Knowing that the TV series was drawn from many of Gaskell’s other short writings, I cannot wait to find a complete, single-volume collection of her works so I may read the whole story. I found Mary Barton at one of the library book sales. Like North and South, it is another page-turner with many levels of plot and commentary. I haven’t found a screen version yet, but I have a lot of faith in the future of BBC drama! I’ve read that her other novels take on a darker tone, in a more depressing strain like Tess De’ubervilles; I am still curious to read them.

I don’t know why it took me so long to discover Gaskell, but I am glad I did. Her works are truly engaging, with romance, fair social commentary, and moral reflection blended together in a fascinating point of time. So if you ever need a good book to read, grab a Gaskell novel; just remember that the last chapter may be missing!

Strawberry-Rhubarb Ice Cream

Looking to make something a little different, Mom and I made up this little recipe from what we had in the fridge and garden. It has a nice strawberry flavor with a little tart-tang from the rhubarb.

1 pint of sliced strawberries

3 stalks of rhubarb with tough outer fiber removed and cut into ¼ inch slices

⅔ cup sugar

2 eggs

1 cup 1% milk

1 cup heavy cream

Place rhubarb, sugar, and enough water to boil in a small sauce pan. Boil until rhubarb is softened, and the sugar is dissolved. Cool, covered in fridge.

Place eggs, milk, and heavy cream in mixer. Mix with sugar and rhubarb mixture.

Pour into ice cream maker with half of the strawberries and process until it is a firm slush. Hand-mix the rest of the strawberries into the slush. Transfer to final container and freeze.

The Young Victoria

Yes, I watch this movie way too much. But it is just so good. If anything, you have to love it for the costumes. It totally deserved the Oscar it got. The textures are rich and details leap out at you, immersing you in Queen Victoria’s world.

The story is wildly engaging with political tug-of-war, romance, and moments of subtle introspection. Emily Blunt is flawless as the queen, making you adore her and pity her, while recognizing her faults and sharing her triumphs. And Rupert Friend as Albert is the perfect leading man, charming and steadfast, adoring and chiding. The supporting roles are equally stellar.

The film stands out with dramatic cinematography and creative storytelling. I still get chills when the camera refocuses down a line of hundreds of drinking glasses at the king’s birthday dinner. I feel the sheer scale of royal life and empathize with Victoria, with the weight she carries as sovereign of it all.

I can’t get enough of Victoria and Albert on screen. Emily Blunt and Rupert Friend share real chemistry in the movie, in the wonderful restrained manner of period films. But it is their moments of genuine togetherness, when it feels like you have viewed something private and special, that make me love this movie. It is natural. And that’s what makes The Young Victoria more than worthwhile.

Fun fact: Julian Fellows of Downton Abbey fame wrote the screenplay. I didn’t recognize it at all for being his work. It feels so different. 

British Goodies

As many of my friends are aware, I cannot travel abroad and not come home with a bunch of goodies, often to enrich my future home, some to accessorize myself. My dad is the same way. He feels that part of travelling is bringing home some of what you saw, not just in the form of photographs. In Germany, I got a hand-carved crucifix and an etched crystal stein. In Italy, I stocked my future kitchen with every olivewood item I could find and arrayed myself with a wool blazer and real Roman sandals. Some may see it as extravagant; others may wonder why anyone would want to carry the load home. But I have never regretted the purchases I’ve made abroad. Each item is truly unique and carries with it a fond memory of a beautiful place and time. I use my olivewood salad bowl, and I am transported to hot streets with cool shadows and the scent of basil wafting through the air, hinting at delights to come. I snuggle into my wool Aran sweater each autumn and can almost hear the sheep high on the hills of Donegal and feel the gentle drizzle. We are tactile creatures who imprint physical things with memory. I find this happens most during travel or with family heirlooms.

Great Britain was a dangerous place for me to travel. Much of the quaint, cozy, cottage style appeals to me, bunting everywhere and reminders of rural life. I think I was rather startled by how much I enjoyed their products and often had to restrain myself. Many of the items I collected, I would never have guessed were going in my suitcase. But it is nice to have memories attached to more than a tea box from Harrod’s! For the first time, I photographed the fruits of my magpie tendency all together so I can remember more fully in future years what I collected that trip. Someday, when my friends visit my eventual home, they’ll be surrounded by memories, in physical form, from all around the world!

1.      Laser-cut wooden coasters: We found these in the charming town of Stanford, where Pride & Prejudice (2007) was filmed. Stanford has some of the most well preserved old architecture in the country. Full of elegant boutiques and diverting history, there was much to entertain.

2.      Fruit preserves: What trip to Britain is complete without marmalade? We collected these throughout the trip from our B&Bs and the local grocery stores. They ensured a lovely scone on the road.

3.      Brass scale & weights: Another find from Stanford, we discovered this scale in the dark basement of a five storey antique shop. It was so reasonably priced and in such good condition, I justified any difficulty of having to haul it through customs immediately. Thankfully, it isn’t in grams, although it may have been nice for continental recipes.

4.      Wool ewe toy: In the middle of nowhere in the middle of the Lake District, there is a wonderful little wool cooperative that specializes in wool crafts and accessories. I fell in love with this little, true-to-life, felted toy, modeled after the Herdwick sheep that are so prevalent in The Lakes. I have been collecting a menagerie of animals for a child’s room someday. The ewe should look quite nice with my wooden, carved, baby elephant from Germany.

5.      The Hobbit postcard: In Oxford, we were lucky enough to catch a special exhibit that showcased some of Tolkien’s original paintings for his works, mainly The Hobbit. His style was so modern, yet reminds me of illuminated manuscripts. I love the vision of his works on screen, but it is fascinating to see what came straight from his head.

6.      Wool herringbone throw: I’ve been wanting to get a herringbone throw to use in my dream library next to my L.L.Bean plaid throw. Actually, I’ve been stalking the internet for the perfect one for some time. And Chatsworth (aka Pemberly of P&P fame) gift shop came through! I’m delighted with the lively tweed.

7.      Wool plaid scarf: Another win for Chatsworth giftshop, the colors in this scarf are some of my best compliments.

8.      Farm animal stationary: Wandering through a stationary shop in Ludlow, a wonderful, little, Tudor town, I spied these fun prints that are almost too cute to just send through the mail.

1.      Lacey-weave scarves (blue & lavender): I purchased these at Crookabeck Farm, a mere ten minute walk from our cottage in the Lakes. The shop was in a rear building and full of the prettiest and most practical wool items. The scarves were woven on looms that are over a hundred years old. I like them for warmer days, perfect for the British summer.

2.      The Hobbit postcard: Another beauty from Tolkien’s illustrations.

3.      Linen dish towels: You can never have too many dish towels. I’ve been looking for ones with the vintage-style stripes and was pleased to find a homewares shop in Stanford that carried them. And in cornflower blue!

4.      Tea cup: This one’s for a friend of mine teaching in Japan. I saw this and knew it had to be hers with that color and Asian design. It shows the wallpaper found in one of the many rooms of Chatsworth. I hope she can enjoy a good brew of Lady Grey!

5.      Sheep stationary: Another comical take on a Ludlow local.

6.      Country Living magazines: In Williamsburg, I picked up a few magazines from the bargain rack at the library. For a while, someone British must have been donating because I often found the UK version of Country Living right next to the US version. I honestly enjoyed it better than the domestic magazine. Its articles where more useful and realistic, and its style was more endearing. Sadly, they were a rare sight on the racks. So in travelling to England, I knew I had to keep my eyes open for any back issues I found. I hit the jackpot in a vintage store in Shrewsbury. Hours of entertainment for a few pence apiece!

7.      Wool plaid scarf: Got this in Oxford, yet made in Scotland, it was necessary against the bitter chill and pouring rain of my first full day!

8.      Children’s  books: Guess How Much I Love You has to be my favorite children’s book of all time—to the point of wanting to paint matching murals on my kids’ bedroom walls someday. So when Mom saw these at Burghley House gift-shop, we knew they were coming home with us. I practically teared up in the car, reading them.

So yes, it may seem excessive when all shown together, but why buy something at Target here, when you can find lovely things over there and have the memory to go with it too? If I have to have material things surrounding me in life, I want them to carry as much meaning and beauty as they can. 

All Day for a Hammer

A month ago I spent a Saturday surrounded by overall-wearing farmers, random dealers, and few people under the age of fifty. Pete’s Auction, three miles away from my house, was hosting a tool auction. I have been to the house wares and antiques auctions many times, but have never made it to a tool one before. Mom went a few weeks back and came home with dozens of drill bits and several power tools, all at bargain prices. Someday, when I am engaged or married, I’ll have to go with my man to a tool auction just to stock his handyman space.

This particular auction had a slightly different tone, tables overflowing with antique planes, woodworking chisels, saws, axes worthy of Gimli, and a hammer for everything. Though interesting to look at, most of these items were of no use to me. Even the saws I passed over, remembering that I still needed a job before I could get a house in which I may even need one. But I settled on a short list of well-made, everyday items that I didn’t yet own or could use to replace cheap alternatives. I wrote my maximum bids on my card and awaited the proper moment. Sadly, I didn’t have a chance at obtaining the brass and wood drafting square from the 1920s with elegant measurement inscriptions. And the similar, collapsible ruler was grabbed in a choice offer. But I did snag a sturdy, brass-edged yardstick that looks like it could last me a lifetime. It looks like it already has served someone else for that long. Surrounded by tools, I realized that I didn’t happen to own more than a tack hammer, so I got a regular hammer that fits my hand comfortably and seemed weighted for most common projects.

At the end of the day, I wondered if it really was worth all that waiting and the slight disappointments. Then I remembered that I’d never see that kind of stuff again. Inside my head is a treasury of times past. And in my home will be a small nod to those days. It’s true sometimes: they don’t make ‘em like they used to. 

Cold Veal with Tuna Sauce

This is a dish that we first tried in Vienna, Austria at a little Italian restaurant run by a sweet young couple. They hardly had any patrons, much to our chagrin. The food was excellent and the service friendly. I hope they eventually succeeded.

Lovely for the summer, this dish speaks volumes, with a tender texture and salty pep. The sauce is based off of a recipe found in The Italian Cooking Encyclopedia by Capalbo, Whiteman, Wright, and Boggiano. As with most recipes, we tweaked it a little. For the veal, we just cooked it in a pan rather than the boiling suggested in the recipe. 

Tuna Sauce

14 oz. canned tuna, drained

4 anchovy fillets

2 tsp. capers, rinsed and drained

3 T. fresh lemon juice

1 ¼ cups mayonnaise

Place all ingredients in blender and process to a creamy paste. Chill.

Heat 2 T. of butter in large frying pan on medium high until melted. Add 2-3 T. of water to cover the bottom of pan. Place four veal cutlets in pan. Cook on each side until opaque. Do not overcook (should be slightly pink in center). Place on large serving plate. Scrape drippings in pan and pour over the veal. Allow to cool on counter. Cover and refrigerate until chilled. Pour sauce over cutlets. Garnish with capers. Any extra sauce is wonderful on crustini. 

Clarke Hardware

Since the invasion of Ace, Lowe’s, and Home Depot, neighborhood hardware stores have disappeared in droves. In many towns, they are long forgotten. Clarke Hardware in downtown Culpeper still manages to withstand the onslaught of big business. It always charmed me as a kid and even more so as an adult. It is the last bastion of small town America and personal service.

It sits on the corner of one of the main drags through town and clutters the sidewalk with red Radio Flyer wagons, potted herbs, stacks of aluminum storage cans, and garden rakes. The two large windows display more Radio Flyer tricycles and Faberware coffee percolators. The building hasn’t changed in decades. Its wares haven’t either, which is our gain. Cramped rows of vegetable seeds encroach on towers of canning jars ready for the harvest. Home repair haberdashery nestles next to mouse and moth traps. The second room is a collection of house wares taken straight from your grandmother’s kitchen, complete with cast iron skillets, enamelware baking sets, and generous portion crock pots. Ignore the mosquito repellent and the digital thermometer, and you could be back in 1955.

The best part by far is the friendly service. Have a problem and need a solution? The quiet gentleman at the counter will take you right to the product. Behind his pale blue eyes is a wealth of home and garden information, and he knows every product in the store. The price is always right, and the welcome-to-browse attitude makes me wonder why I would ever shop anywhere else.

When I think of it, I try to always check there for my goods before purchasing at a big name store. I’ve even caught myself wishing I could set up a registry there! I dread the day it will close. The owner is no longer young, and few young people seem interested in shopping there. But while it lasts, I enjoy it. The sign on the door mentions, “Free Amusement for Spouses” or something along those lines. Looking around, I wonder how anyone could get bored. 

Mama Dugas' Cheesecake

My mother’s marble cheesecake is legendary in our family. With smooth, creamy white cake and chunky, chocolaty dark cake, it is the perfect combination for a decadent dessert. We love it warm from the oven or chilled. It’s such a favorite we’ve regularly had it in place of the traditional birthday cake.

Crust:

Combine 1 cup crushed Oreo cookies and 3 Tsp. melted butter and press into the bottom of a 9 inch spring form pan. Bake at 350° (325° convection) for 10 minutes.

Cake:

Mix three (3) 8 oz. pkg. of cream cheese, ¾ cup sugar, 3 Tsp. flour, and 1 tsp. vanilla in mixer. Add 3 eggs, one at a time. Set aside 1 cup of batter. Melt one (1) 1 oz. square of unsweetened chocolate, and mix with the 1 cup of batter. Add 6 oz. of chocolate chips to chocolate batter. Pour white batter into crust, and then add lumps of chocolate batter. Bake at 300° (275°) until center firms up, about one hour. Allow to cool before removing pan sides. Serve warm or chilled with a tall beverage (trust me, it’s very rich). 

Salmon with Shitake Mushrooms

Now this recipe we took from Martha Stewart Living and adjusted, but it is so delicious I felt I had to pass it along. Credit given where it is due. If you don’t have enough of each of the ingredients, don’t worry. We never have enough mushrooms, but it still tastes great. This is a wonderful dish for a fancy evening.

Mix together:

2 T. low sodium soy sauce

2 tsp. finely grated fresh ginger

1 T. and 1 tsp. fresh lemon juice

Toss with 4 cups thinly sliced (stems removed) Shitake mushrooms (about ½ to ¾ lb before stemming).

Cut a sheet of parchment paper that is over twice the length of your salmon filet. Fold in half and place on deep cookie sheet. This will be for your eventual package.

Place mushrooms on one half of the parchment paper, and top with your salmon filet (full size), skin side up. Sprinkle with vegetable oil. You may add snow peas as well, should you wish. Place thermometer in thick end of the filet, and fold parchment paper over filet. Fold over all the open sides so that it is a fairly secure package, minus where the thermometer is. Bake at 400° until internal temperature is 120° F. Unwrap fish, and remove skin. You may garnish with black sesame seeds. 

Pippin, that Fool of a Took!

I adopted a kitten. It wasn’t on purpose. My plan was to get a job, get an apartment, then get a dog. A cat wasn’t going to be part of the picture until I had a big place and maybe a mouse infestation. Don’t get me wrong! I enjoy cats. I’ve had some great ones over the years. Cuddles was the sweetest thing, even when she became deaf and screamed at the top of her lungs. And Smeagol, in all her weirdness, is quite loving when she wants to be (not to mention, the best mouser we’ve ever had). But a dog seemed like the preferred pet of choice. Nobody can beat our family dog Seamus for companionship. But here I am, one step closer to being a cat lady. Great.

A sad country custom is to dump unwanted kittens near a house and hope they make it. Living on a quiet dirt road, we have been the receivers of such surprise gifts every few years. Smeagol was a stray who followed me home and stayed. So also with my cat. He was sounding off an ungodly whine in the yard and driving the dog nuts. So we fed him and coaxed him closer. Though shy at first, his over-friendly personality showed through by the next day with him rubbing up against our legs and begging for attention. By Monday evening, my dad declared that we were keeping him, and he’d be my cat from now on. Mom should have never let the kitten climb onto Dad’s shoulder. He melted like butter.

I played around with a couple names, but Pippin seemed to fit the best. He’s a ginger with a large appetite, open personality, not a lot of sense, and a precarious curiosity. He’s a handful. I took him to the vet for shots and promptly found out that he had ear-mites and fleas. By the time I got him home, we had another kitten on the doorstep. His long-haired, pretty sister was half starved and extremely shy. After getting some food into her, they both got baths in Dawn. I’ll admit that I had never washed a cat before, but it is an experience, thankfully made a little easier due to their current size and her frail state. Sadly, they were both too young to introduce to medicine so baths it was (Pip is still getting a bath weekly, but I cannot wait for him to be old enough for drops.). Each day the female got stronger and friendlier. I loved watching the two of them tussle and cuddle. But I couldn’t keep two kittens. Thankfully, our neighbor Blackie knew someone who had a little girl. She just lost her kitty, and they were looking for a new one. Perfect! So our fuzzy little lady has a nice home just a few miles away.

Pippin, on the other hand, is a rambunctious, playful kitten, attacking the rug tassels, Mom’s knitting, and the dog. Seamus has been oddly patient. I can’t say the same for Smeagol. She started by hissing at Pippin. When she realized he just didn’t care, she became terrified of him and refused to be in the same general proximity. Weird. Really, she looks at him like he is some sort of monster. Now, we have to constantly be on the lookout for Smeagol to make sure she actually gets in the house to eat. I hope she gets over her fear soon.

Pippin, living up to his name, eats way too much. He follows me everywhere and is starting to learn the word “no.” Not sure how effective it is yet. He has the voice of an ant though. Heaven forbid he should actually need to be heard. He met the chickens, only because he’s small enough to get into the outside pen. I’m hoping he never discovers that chickens are fun to catch. We are all starting to get into the routine of having another animal, but training is difficult. It’s kind of like having a toddler always hanging onto your leg—lovable but annoying. And as much as I don’t want to, I have to enter the world of litter training. Goodness knows how limited my grass access will be in any future apartment. I hate the very idea of a litter-box. Oh, well. In exchange, my lap will never get cold this winter! 

Nutella Fudgesicles

A few weeks ago, my mom and I finally tried one of those Pinterest recipes. Granted, it was the simplest one there was. After several days of the Virginia humidity, we craved something cold.

Nutella Fudgesicles:

1 cup whole milk (we used 1% and half & half as that is what we had)

1/3 cup Nutella

Whisk together. Pour into popsicle mold. Makes 5-6.

THEY ARE SINFUL. I am never buying fudgesicles again. There are a lot of recipes out there for this same thing with everything from coconut milk to vanilla. Don’t bother. This recipe is amazing, and you don’t even have to go shopping for exotic ingredients. Now, I wonder if Costco or Sam’s carry those really big jars of Nutella…

Summer Evening Drives

One of life’s greatest pleasures, and one I often forget until the nights warm up, is a long drive on a summer’s evening. I was reminded of this when I drove back from Williamsburg after moving my old roommate. I got on the road after nine o’clock and dusk was beginning to fade from memory. The first part of my trip home involved an hour long sprint on the highway, me frowning at lousy, dangerous drivers and wishing the limit was a little lower than seventy so my windows could be comfortably open.

Once I got past Richmond on 295, I relaxed onto Route 33, and the whole atmosphere changed. The road became two lane and the traffic thinned, meandering at a gentle 55 mph. Some evenings are so quiet, high-beams can be used without fear of blinding other drivers. This is the time that I actually enjoy myself, and the three hour drive home doesn’t seem so bad. Traversing the lonely stretch, I started to notice all the little things I missed in broad daylight: the sound of crickets, the high wail of frogs when I passed a country pond, the stars, shadows formed by a near-full moon. A strange desire to kill the headlights and experience night travel as it used to be tempted me; never to be done, of course, but always beckoning. The lightning bugs twinkle in all the trees. I truly love that drive home.

My dad always warns me that I should take the bigger highway to avoid the surprising turns and unseen deer. But I always risk the back way with its snake curves and blind hills. The experience can’t be replaced. My favorite part of this particular drive was the sickeningly saccharin scent of sweet corn, blooming in the fields. It is the comforting smell of summer in the rural parts of our country. And it follows you for miles. Sometimes, I blared music to keep me awake; other times, I just let the insects serenade me. No matter how late it was when I walked through the door, I had a smile on my face. There are few things more beautiful than several uninterrupted hours of contemplation and communion with nature. 

Inkblots for Your Kitchen

On another weekend excursion, we checked out the Washington, D.C. Eastern Market. The market wasn’t as impressive as I hoped (too much weird art and tacky trinkets for my taste, although the food portion was good), but I scored something I have had my eye on for quite a while. Blue Ridge Cutting Board Company sells beautiful cutting boards at the Eastern Market regularly.

The owners made cutting boards for a while when they saw raw wood planks stacked and the beautiful, intricate patterns formed by the end-grain. This inspired them to make bonded cutting boards that showed off the beauty of the grain by just sliding the pattern a little to either side and creating a whole new pattern, which remind me of geometric ink-blots. Being done on the end-grain also gives the added benefit of extra durability.

We spent at least a half hour ruminating which ones we were going to purchase. They are very pricey, but you have to consider the beauty of them, the workmanship, and the life-long quality. I figure this will be a cutting board I will pass down for generations. Dad was treating my mom and me, so the deliberating took even longer. Every time I fell in love with one, I saw another one right behind it I loved. Mom settled on a good size piece with bold light and dark features radiating out from the center. I chose a slightly smaller rosy one with a pattern that seemed almost woven. I can’t wait to use it with my olive wood items from Siena! I’ve become such a sucker for pretty wooden things

for the kitchen. 

Ma's Irish Soda Bread

Throughout my life I have had good soda bread, and I have had bread more akin to hockey pucks. This recipe is the best of the best. Mom says it is even better than her mother’s. Moist, flavorful, and the perfect texture when toasted and slathered in butter, this bread is divine either with breakfast or a cup of Irish tea. It’s a breeze to make too.

1 tsp. caraway seeds

2 cup all purpose flour

1 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. salt

⅓ cup sugar

½ cup or more raisins

1 egg beaten

1 cup buttermilk

¼ cup melted butter

Optional: You may also add candied cherries (green for St. Patrick’s Day!) for color.

Combine dry ingredients. Stir in caraway seeds and raisins. Set aside.

Combine wet ingredients. Add to flour mixture, stirring just until moistened. Spoon batter into flour-greased loaf-pan. Bake at 350° for 40-45 minutes until toothpick comes out clean. Cool on wire rack. 

Not Your Standard Pyrex

Sick of weeding and home repairs, Dad decided that we all needed a break, and we were long overdue for a day of antiquing. We headed all the way to A Unique House Antique Mall in King George. Among antique malls, it proved itself more enjoyable than most, despite the lack of AC. I pined for several, random household items, from a cute copper watering can—too pricey—to a Jadeite measuring cup with matching juicer—seemed like a great idea until I realized that my desire for a Jadeite piece didn’t outweigh the fact that I couldn’t actually read how much was measured through the creamy green material. I finally settled on a pale blue, Depression glass, casserole dish, complete with matching lid and trivet. It was a little pricier than I would have liked, but I had never seen such a piece before. Labeled as Fire King Oven Glass, it should cook as well as any Pyrex. I figured that I didn’t have a casserole dish, and why should mine not be beautiful as well? I think that is slowly becoming a new motto of mine. William Morris said, “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.” I have a few concessions, but I like to think of it as also reading, “If it is useful or needed, try to make it beautiful as well.” Happy surprise, I got a little discount at checkout.

Also, when walking out, I picked up a great brochure/map on Eastern and Northern Virginia antique malls/shops. So handy. I’d love to get one for the rest of the state. I plan on keeping it in my car for long drives with a little down time. Not all the shops listed can be trusted to be superior as they pay to advertise. We went to another one that was listed, and it turned out to be a total dud. But that is the story of antiquing, hits and misses!

Update: I found a bunch more of the glass at a little shop along the drive back from camping. The lady specialized in Depression glass. Her stuff was pricey…all of it, except the light blue. Lucky for me! As I don’t own any baking stuff, I got a small casserole dish, a lidded loaf pan, a medium roasting pan, and two pie dishes. It will be simply delightful to bake!

Lap Desk

I have had a lap desk for years, a small, purple bean-bag one with a marker-scuffed, poly-board top. I probably got it when I was eight. The back has been falling off, and the beans just get on my nerves. With my laptop aging, it is now a necessity to use a lap desk to keep my legs from getting burned. I’ve been looking for one, but have been disappointed by the selection. Ninety percent are black or dark brown. The other ten percent look like an angsty teenager’s closet, all black and hot pink with horrible patterns I wouldn’t even want in a dorm room. I really just wanted a nice big, wooden desk with space to write and a pretty floral backing. I’d even settle for stripes. No go.

So I made one myself. I contemplated just getting a board cut at Lowe’s, but that seemed too rough and unfinished. A quick Google search set me on the right path. The key is using a cutting board. Genius. I realized I could even get one of those with a drip groove and let that catch my pen or pencil. I picked out a nice maple one at Walmart for $16, and then purchased a light foam board like you use for tri-folds. With some one inch foam left over from some project of Mom’s I made a backing, layering and trimming so it gradually angled. I just glued the foam and foam board together with a hot glue gun. I added a layer of cotton backing for a little extra give. After that, I dug around in my cloth scraps, finding an old floral shirt that was the perfect size. Laying the foam backing on the cloth, I cut a piece to cover it, then adhered it with hot glue, taking care to shape the corners. Finally, I measured out where the backing would go, quickly covered the area with glue, and stuck the two pieces together. Voila! A functional and feminine lap desk. The only thing I have noticed is that it is a little heavier than I might like. I blame it on the sheer thickness of the cutting board, but I am sure a lighter board or a different material would work well. Maybe I’ll make a smaller travel one too.

Going Turkish

That’s it. I’ve converted. I’m going Turkish. Well, Turkish towels, that is. At the D.C. Eastern Market, I came across a lady selling Turkish towels. I had heard of them before and was very interested in trying them. But I was tentative to buy any online without seeing if I really liked them. She had a goodly selection in various colors, many of them soft pastels. All the towels had tassels and narrow edge stripes. The regular towels were huge, and the hand-towels were quite generous as well. I bought a white one with lilac stripes and a lilac hand-towel with white stripes.

I LOVE them. I can’t believe they haven’t caught on more here. There are so many advantages over the standard fluffy towels that are popular. They can be really big without taking up storage space. They fold to next to nothing, giving that they are just a light cotton weave. They dry really quickly and are fairly gentle on your skin. You know how you have to dry towels in the drier to make them soft? Doesn’t matter with the Turkish towel. This translates to less energy use, especially in the summer if you use a clothesline. You can easily use them at the beach as they don’t collect sand. They also get softer with age. They remind me of old Victorian linen towels that I still hunt for in antique stores and at auctions. There is nothing like a nice fluffy towel taken straight from the drier at the end of a cold day, but I may just exchange it for the practicality of a Turkish towel, at least for the warm months. Maybe I’ll completely convert someday…

See the Antiochia towels online at soapsantiochia.com. 

Country By Jasper Conran

The last time I was in Williamsburg I wandered into the bookstore and immediately gravitated to the home design section as I am wont to do. Having perused through most of the shelf, I tugged out a large book, simply titled Country. The cover was filled with an image of the most peaceful, green, fog-enshrouded lane I have ever seen. Hefting its goodly weight, I flipped through pages of quiet, muted photographs of English countryside, jars of marmalade, and worn faces etched with crow’s feet. Intrigued, I read a few paragraphs. Jasper Conran seemed to be describing all that I love most about seasons in the country. Even if the nationality was wrong, the basic commentary about struggles and joys within a rural landscape rang true. Nothing idealized, yet subtlety positive; the words comforted me in familiarity. The coordinating photographs by Andrew Montgomery were mesmerizing. I was charmed. Flipping over the cover, the price was a mere twenty dollars. Sold. I thought I could handle that for a bit of literary and pictorial eloquence.

I devoured the book in a day. It’s an easy read, often with just a couple paragraphs on a page, if any at all. I highly recommend it, if simply to refocus our busy lives to things simpler and more meaningful.

Funny enough, as I was reading, I came upon a section discussing Crookabeck Farm in Patterdale and the lady who works the sheep and goats there. That farm is a ten minute walk from where I stayed in the Lake District last month! It was odd to see a full-page photograph of the woman from whom I bought my angora scarves. Of all the farm shops to visit! It really is a small world sometimes. 

I Scream! You Scream!

A couple of years ago at a church raffle, I won a second-hand ice cream maker, in near mint condition, cast off from some over-cluttered kitchen. It wasn't anything special, just a Cuisinart automatic, rotating, frozen bowl with a simple blade and cover. I had always been a fan of the old fashioned, crank-until-you-get-a-stitch-in-your-side ice cream makers, requiring primitive things like rock salt and sweat. I even made Mom promise to buy one of these classics for a wedding gift someday—I read a touching story one time about a young married couple who worked through a particularly horrid fight by taking it out on the ice cream. As a massive fan of the summertime dessert staple, I fully expected to find this somewhat extraneous appliance on my wedding registry. But winning one? I may still have my heart set on the old, ice-filled, wooden tub, but I have no complaints in the meantime.

Lemon Ice Cream:

Tangy, crisp lemon melting over your tongue with a smooth, creamy finish? Yes, please!

1 cup sugar

1 cup skim milk

1 cup half-and-half

1 teaspoon grated lemon rind

1/2 cup fresh lemon juice

Combine ingredients in a mixer. Transfer to your ice cream machine, and let it do the work!

Breaking Out of the Egg...

I have always had a lot of ideas running around my head. Many make it all the way down to my hands and out into my home. In the age of Pinterest, blogging, and all sorts of digital sharing, it seems only natural to let others share in these ideas and joys as well. Here is my humble attempt. Enjoy!