Scotland

Yesterday We Had Lemon Chicken Risotto

Let's talk about food. This weekend I was interviewed by the proprietor of Fur-Lined Teacup on my attitude towards food, what I cook and how food fits into today's society. It was really, really interesting and the questions made me think about my cultural background, the place food holds in my life and how we all relate to food in various ways.

Mostly we talked about the Slow Food movement which is "a non-profit, eco-gastronomic member-supported organization that was founded (..) to counteract fast food and fast life, the disappearance of local food traditions and people’s dwindling interest in the food they eat, where it comes from, how it tastes and how our food choices affect the rest of the world." Admittedly that sounds a bit wishy-washy and über-liberal, but it applies to all of us, if you think about it. Why do we so easily succumb to the ready-made lasagna that just pops in the oven, when we could have roasted vegetables with pork chops for the same amount of money and time?

I grew up in the countryside in a family who pretty much lived off the land. I learned which plants were edible and how I could prepare them. Later my palette was shaped by friends who can only be described as "citizens of the world". They introduced me to authentic Mexican cuisine, Middle-Eastern spices and Mediterranean vegetables. Another friend taught me to use ingredients in unusual ways and how to think outside the box. And so on.

Today I live in a country which has a strange, almost schizophrenic attitude towards food: do you like your chocolate bar to be deep-fried or to be fair-traded? I find myself becoming reliant upon food items that I would not have used in Denmark (ready-made custard, anyone?) and the selection of fresh ingredients restricted compared to my local Copenhagen supermarket (I haven't seen any Jerusalem artichokes except in one very expensive deli). Here in Scotland you have a greater selection of brands rather than types of ingredients. It is all very intriguing and I still view my grocery shopping as an adventure. I celebrate finding foods I thought were no longer available to me and I like trying out traditional Scottish foods like bannocks, stovies, bridies, the ubiquitous haggis (which is really nice, by the way), various types of seafood and desserts that seem to involve massive amounts of cream. It's a wonder I haven't gained more than two dress sizes(!) while I have lived here.

What role does food play in your life, what types of food would you describe as central to you (either by association or because you enjoy it so much) and how do you do your grocery shopping? And how would you respond to the Slow Food movement?

Knitting Anarchy!

My knitting group has been asked by Beanscene not to come back due to "disruptive" behaviour! Let me just repeat that: my knitting group has been asked by Beanscene not to come back due to "disruptive" behaviour. So, spending around £7-10 per head, sitting around a table and knitting for 90 minutes every other Tuesday can now land you with an ASBOS. Amazing.

Seeing as Beanscene has quite recently had financial problems I thought having repeat customers in an otherwise quiet café would have been a Good Thing, but obviously I know nothing about business strategies or customer service.

Addendum: photo and styling by my partner who is slightly gobsmacked by also amused by the idea of knitters getting ASBOS.

Cadder Excursion

The HarperCollins visit was a great success. They marketed the event as a chance to see original Peter Pan artwork and unseen letters from famous authors such as JRR Tolkien and Agatha Christie, but in reality we enjoyed the visit to the cartographic offices much more. We also had a chance to peek into the process of making dictionaries. Very cool, very interesting and very cheap because the on-site bookshop was closed. Boo. The Antonine Wall/the Cadder Fort? Underwhelming as the site was excavated in the 1930s and subsequently turned into a sand quarry during World War II. So we stood in the rain, looked across the Forth and Clyde canal and saw a bunch of trees. However, as the Antonine Wall now has been declared a World Heritage Site, we might get to see something a bit more involving in the future. We did learn that the Roughcastle fort in Falkirk is well-preserved and well worth a visit, so we might head up there at some point.

Finally, we spent some time at Cadder Parish Church which stands in the middle of a forest. There has been a church on site since the mid-12th century and although the church has been rebuilt and refurbished many times since, you could still see the passing of ages in the surroundings. Dave loves his stained glass windows and was thrilled to see stained glass windows featuring World War I tanks. I was more taken in by the graveyard and its odd open iron coffin.. It was used during the 19th c to deter grave robbers (who'd sell fresh bodies to the anatomy schools). You'd simply put the coffin on top of the grave, fill it with stones and just sit in a little waiting house nearby until you heard the unmistakable sound of men trying to remove stones from the iron coffin. The waiting house is still there -- it looks to be a favourite spot for the local foxes.

And what is this? Could this be a sighting of the increasingly common februarii ladius sweaterae? I believe this one is the organic Scottish Gray variant with mother-of-pearl features..

This photo was actually taken a day earlier during our bramble picking adventure. Bramble is the Scottish word for blackberry and we have had quite a few bramble crumbles lately. Yum, yum.

West End Girl

Not everyone can say that they've had their knitting-in-progress cooed over by a BAFTA winner and OBE recipient but now I can. My mother's quite excited. Yesterday David and I went out for dinner to celebrate my two years in Scotland. On our way to the restaurant we stumbled across 'Polish Taste' - a little Polish deli here in the West End. David suggested we could take a look as we were running a bit early and I am very grateful that he did. I found all the things I hadn't managed to find anywhere during my first two years in Glasgow: affordable buttermilk and live yeast! They also had some very, very delicious sourdough bread. Wooh. I never thought of Danish food as being very 'Baltic cuisine' but, according to manager Joanna Korzeniowski, I was not the first Dane to be ridiculously pleased about buttermilk.

And, finally, Lost in Fiction is opening down the street soon. The shop front is all pretty and mysterious. I'm rather excited about its Ffordian/Nextian name. Ooh!

Anniversary

I've now been in Scotland two years. It seems longer than that. I could lie and say they have been the best two years of my life but they haven't. They've been stressful, hurtful and a lot of work. I think they can best be described in terms of a grieving process. I lost a part of my life when I moved across the North Sea and I needed to work through my grief before I could see what my new life was giving me. That was very hard - especially because I failed to recognise my grief.

But here I am two years later and I have managed to build a new life. This takes time, I was told, but I never believed it.

Here's to many more years in Scotland. May they be so much better than the last two.

And, finally, was it worth it? Yes. Yes, it has been worth it. Yes.

And So the Football Season Picked Up Its Golden Armour..

Can we agree on an ban on the word "epic" in the following context: "Cousin, however, scored an epic goal.."? Let's look at the definition of "epic":

Pronunciation: \ˈe-pik\ Function: adjective Etymology: Latin epicus, from Greek epikos, from epos word, speech, poem — more at voice Date: 1589

1: of, relating to, or having the characteristics of an epic (an epic poem) 2 a: extending beyond the usual or ordinary especially in size or scope (his genius was epic — Times Literary Supplement)

Thus, a football season of normal duration or a regular goal cannot be described as "epic", dear BBC Scotland football commentator. And I'm going to hit you with a hardback copy of The Iliad next time you employ the word incorrectly. And that will cause you epic pain, believe me.