Gone Viking

Goat’s cheese, roe deer, tar ice cream – all washed down with Harald’s fine cinnamon beer. It is a tough life being a viking, but someone has to do it. There will be photos – including Charles Vess entering into the spirit of the occasion. Sadly laying waste to England is hard work and even vikings have to sleep. Good night.

Buffalo Cheese

I’ve been investigating low fat cheeses of late because of my cholesterol problems, but nothing I have tried has been terribly good. When I was at the farmer’s market yesterday one of the cheese stalls had a low fat cheese which I tried, again with no luck. When I explained my problem to the vendor she suggested that I try buffalo milk cheese instead.

When I say “buffalo” here I mean the Asian water buffalo, not the American bison. The man I get my venison from also has a bison herd, and he told me he didn’t fancy trying to milk one of those critters. But water buffalo are domesticated throughout south-east Asia and their milk is widely consumed there. Here is a web site from the Indian dairy industry explaining the benefits of buffalo milk. It has only around a fifth of the cholesterol of cow’s milk, and whacks more calcium. Just what I need.

As for cheese, well, mozzarella is famously often made from buffalo milk, but what I was sold looked more like goat cheese. It was very creamy, and had a nice bite to it. I think I may go nag Cowgirl Creamery when I get back home as the only buffalo cheese they have is a mozzarella.

Famous Eating

Over lunch this week I have been watching Gary Rhodes TV series, Rhodes Across India. Rhodes is one of my favorite TV chefs, because he’s a lot more interested in the food than in being a celebrity (and if I want a celebrity chef I want Keith Floyd, thank you). He does a pretty good job in this series of showing Indian food as it should be done, rather than as it is all too often served in British restaurants. But today’s episode was from Delhi, and the guest expert was the head chef from Bukhara, the excellent restaurant in the Delhi Sheraton.

Why yes, I have eaten there. How did you guess? Looking back at my report of my India trip, I remember that I was disappointed with the accompaniments – particularly the naan which I found thin and crispy. However, the kebabs were every bit as good as Gary (and apparently Bill Clinton and Vladimir Putin) say they are. Thoroughly recommended.

I miss India. I wish I could afford to go back, preferably with Kevin during the IPL season.

Ye Olde Vindalooe

Here’s something weird from my RSS feeds. It is an article about a forthcoming BBC4 program on Britain’s oldest cookbook. And the title of the book is The Forme of Cury.

Who knew that they had Indian restaurants in the 14th Century? I can just imagine a gang of knights going out for a curry after a tournament. Not before though, you wouldn’t want to have to get out of your armor in a hurry.

(Yeah, I know I’m getting silly, it is 2:00am here.)

The Great American Beer Mystery

Budweiser is advertising that their beer is good because if you pour their beer down the middle of the glass it gets a nice head on it. Coors is advertising that their beer is good because it comes in a special, wide-mouthed can that reduces the turbulence when you pour it.

What exactly are these people selling?

Yum – Creole Goodness

One of the best things about birthdays is that they are an excuse to visit one of your favorite restaurants. This being the Bay Area, off we went to CreoLa. So yes, you can get good Creole cooking in California, and that doesn’t mean hot and spicy, it means good seafood, and fabulous things like hush puppies and beignets. We’ve been there many times, we have eaten our way through most of the menu, and it is all good. It will cost you a little (about $50 each for us, more if you are heavy wine drinkers), but it will be well worth it, and you won’t feel over-stuffed or hungry at the end. What’s more it is a small and friendly place. Kevin and I only go about once a year, but the chef always remembers us and comes to say hello. In return we send as many people there as we can. Which is just what I’m doing now. I see that Kevin has done the same.

Time for Tea

Kevin and I went to Valley Fair Mall on Saturday and found what our potentially fallible memories thought was a new tea shop. They are called Lupicia. They are expensive (even more expensive than Republic of Tea, whose prices us Brits find horrendous) but they do have an amazing range of teas. Yesterday we tried the Blueberry, which was very nice. Today we are trying to Orange Chocolat, which smells divine but sadly does not taste like a Terry’s Chocolate Orange. Worth investigating, I think.

Purrrrrrr!!!!

So I had eaten rather well at the GoH luncheon (and listened to an entertaining speech by Vernor Vinge). I was not planning to have dinner. But I got kidnapped by Farah and Javier Martinez and taken off to what Javier claims is the second best fish restaurant in the whole USA. It is, I think, where Charles went for his annual crab fix last night, and he was very happy with it. Anyway, the place is called MoonFish, and the fish was indeed excellent. I don’t recommend the sushi, because I’ve been taken out to sushi restaurants by Mr. Gaiman who is what you might call “an expert”. But by all means eat fish. Eat lots of fish. The starter platter was excellent, including the best crab cakes I’ve ever had and some very good coconut shrimp. For main course I had a whole yellowtail platter. That’s fish just the way we felines like it: the whole thing, head included, lightly grilled, nothing else. Yum! There is no need to have dessert, especially not the chocolate cake they had on offer which could have faced down a Robert Jordan novel in a heavyweight wrestling contest.

Home At Last

Ah, it is good to be home. Whenever I’m in the UK I get cold and wet, and I miss Kevin dreadfully. And these days I also have to read Kameron Hurley blogging about Chipotle burritos all the time when I can’t buy one. This is so not fair.

However, I am not home, warm, cuddled, and fed. All is right with the world.

Dangerous Stuff, Cookery

Yes, I knew that chick peas sometimes explode in the microwave. No, it hadn’t quite occurred to me that they might continue to explode after you have taken the food out to stir it.

Good job I wear glasses.

This has been a public service announcement of the “Cheryl does something stupid so that you can learn from her mistake” variety.

Culinary Promise

Thanks to a review in The Independent, I think I have found another cookery book that is worth investing in.

I was vaguely aware that much of what we in the West known as “Indian” food was actually Mughal food (and most “Indian” restaurants in Britain are run by Bangladeshis), but I had no idea that traditional Hindu food should not include onions or garlic.

Cooking Quickly

Speed in the kitchen is obvious the in thing right now. Hot on the heels of Nigella Express comes Delia Smith’s how to cheat at cooking. As far as I know, she hasn’t really made it across the Atlantic, but Delia is a patron saint of British kitchens (and of Norwich City football club) and I suspect that almost every British woman of my generation has at least one of her books. Naturally I had to grab the new one.

My mother is disgusted at the idea that people might actually buy frozen puff pastry rather than making their own (which would, of course, be much cheaper, not to mention save oodles of carbon emissions). But, as Delia points out, much of the cookery we have grown up with was predicated on the expectation that you had servants to do it for you. Indeed, I have the distinct impression that the whole housewife scene back when my mother was young was designed to give other people the impression that you did have servants, or at least could live as well as you would if you did have them. I prefer to have a different sort of economic relationship with people who provide things for me, and I’m not averse to buying pre-prepared food.

Unfortunately product placement is the order of the day with modern cook books. Delia used to make a fortune for kitchen gadget manufacturers, but a quick browse through the new book suggests that these days she has done a deal with Marks & Spencer’s food department. That’s sure proof that she doesn’t sell in the US, because there is no point in putting out a cook book if your readers won’t be able to buy key ingredients (though I see it is on Amazon’s US site so maybe there’s a US version with different product placement). Fortunately I am a cunning cook, and can doubtless find replacements for most of the label items. But I won’t be back in my own kitchen for a few weeks yet, so you are going to have to wait for recipe reports.

The Year of the Rat

Today I was in central London with Ellen Datlow, Pat Cadigan and my new friend, Liz Spencer, who was one of Pat’s students at Clarion. The Chinese New Year parade was very good but rather short. The costumes were fabulous, as were the martial arts people. Ellen and Pat took lots of photos. I’ll link to them when they go up.

For lunch we went to New World and ate dim sum. Yum. Though it was a little restrained compared to what I have had in Melbourne and Sydney. No chicken’s feet in sight, and nothing very spicy. Loved the cuttlefish balls and the mushroom dumplings.

Afterwards I committed shopping. I have been to Lush, and bought books. And I found a pub to watch the rugby. More on that in a separate post.

I am amazed at the number of women in London who have gone and got Posh Spice haircuts. What were they thinking?

Some good news on Camden Market. Ellen says that it was the east side of the road that burned up. That does mean that the Fairy Gothmother shop will be in trouble, but most of my favorite stalls should be OK, unless they were using the storage areas across the road. I’ll know more when I’ve managed to connect with Judith.

Tonight’s Menu

As many of you will know, tonight is Burns Night. For most of the year haggis is rare in English shops, but around this time of year it is easy to find. I have been out and secured my own wee hairy beastie ready for the pot.

With yesterday’s post on kangaroo fresh in my mind I think it worth noting that the Scots have never expressed much outrage at the thought of eating their national totem animal. Indeed, they don’t even seem to worry much about the habit of Scottish sports fans of wearing the pelts of juvenile haggis as wigs (1). Even the English, whose fondness for animals is legendary, have rarely been known to upbraid their northern neighbors for eating a cute, furry creature. The fact that haggis are pretty scraggy-looking animals, and are possessed of a temper akin to that of a Tasmanian Devil, may have something to do with this.

A word of caution for unwary American visitors is appropriate here. My local Sainsbury’s is selling what they claim to be “vegetarian haggis”. Please do not be fooled. This product is still animal flesh. The haggis exists in two species: the carnivorous haggis (haggis jimmii carnivori) and the herbivorous haggis (haggis jimmii herbivori). The former is actually omnivorous, supplementing its diet of mice, frogs and insects with fruit when in season (2). The latter subsists mainly on root vegetables such as beets and turnips, and since the 17th Century has developed a particular fondness for potatoes. It is this quirk of their diet that caused the herbivorous haggis to be hunted to extinction in Ireland during the mid 19th Century. Food connoisseurs generally agree that the taste of the carnivorous haggis is far superior. However, unscrupulous English supermarkets have used the public’s lack of knowledge about the haggis to sell “vegetarian haggis” to their unsuspecting more soft-hearted customers.

Also please do not be fooled by haggis labeled “organic”. Despite entertaining rumors spread by certain Scottish science fiction fans, the haggis is not a silicon-based life form. All haggis meat is composed of organic molecules, just like beef or pork. Furthermore, haggis are not farmed. The use of the term “organic” with reference to haggis simply means that the animals have been shot with expensive carbon-fiber bullets, the cost of which is passed on to the consumer. Some Scottish hunters, in search of a more authentic and challenging experience, have taken to pursuing their prey with traditional bows and arrows, or even wrestling them to the ground and killing them with a knife. Haggis killed in this way are labeled “naturally culled”.

All that said, however, the fact remains that the haggis is a prime example of a wild creature whose survival is, at least in part, due to its popularity as a food.

(1) Various theories have been advanced to explain the vivid orange coloring of the juvenile haggis. Some biologists believe that it is an evolutionary adaptation to the fact that golden eagles have difficulty seeing the color orange. Others claim that the chemical that provides the orange coloring is a necessary precursor to that which, later in life, provides the characteristic purple and lilac dappling that allows the adult haggis to blend in so perfectly with heather-covered hillsides. A third group believes that the coloring is a reaction to the habit of mother haggis of lining their dens with the molted fur of Aberdeen Angus cows. Whatever the reason, haggis-pelt wigs have been traditional wear for Scots sports fans down the ages. There is now also a thriving export industry supplying the wigs to sports teams around the world who have orange as part of their colors including, of course, the San Francisco Giants. Kevin and I are proud owners of haggis-hair wigs.

(2) Some naturalists have claimed that a family link exists between the carnivorous haggis and the drop bears of Australia. It is certainly true that an adult male haggis is a ferocious fighter. That’s one of the reason why the Scots love to wrestle them. However, drop bears are almost entirely carnivorous and have been known to prey upon kangaroo and sheep as well as their usual diet of unwary tourists. The haggis is a much more gentle eater.

More on Meat

Still with today’s Independent, I see that they have finally caught up with the culinary excellence of kangaroo. Not that you get buy it easily in Darkest Somerset, or in California for that matter. But check down the bottom of this article. Bison is the red meat of choice for Kevin and I – we eat it regularly (and elk if I’ve been into San Francisco). And I buy venison when I can over here in the UK. I would cook it more often if it didn’t require a trip into Taunton on a Thursday. Nice to see that I’m in fashion for a change. And nice to see a bit of common sense from the environmentalists.

I’ve also checked out the Osgrow online shop, which looks very tempting (well, except maybe for the crickets and locusts, but you never know…).

Update: those of you who were grossed out by this post might like to check out today’s Economist which has an article about why Africans prefer converting land to agriculture rather than preserving wildlife.

Shopping

Today being the first day of half-way decent weather since I got back to the UK, I took myself into Taunton to do some shopping. It is farmers’ market day, after all. So some venison has been duly secured. I have stocked up on stuff from Lush. And I have books. I have finally got hold of the third volume of Amanda Hemmingway’s Sangreal Trilogy, the first two books of which I have very much enjoyed. I’ve also picked up the second Tom Lloyd novel, The Twilight Herald as I thought that the first one showed a fair bit of promise. I can’t find Sarah Hall’s The Carhullan Army anywhere, so that will have to wait until I can get to London.

I also looked in clothes shops. As of now I have a certain amount of hope that this might be a good year for summer dresses, and about time too.

Sick

It appears to have been food poisoning, presumably from breakfast. That’s about 7 hours of my life vanished. Ah well, thank goodness it didn’t happen tomorrow when I’d be spending 11 hours on an aircraft.