by Krista | Jul 1, 2010 | Literary Nibbles
I adore good illustrations.
My bookshelves are filled with books featuring the exquisite renderings of artists old and young, dead and alive, Russian and British. I love them all.
As a wee lass, my favorite illustrated books were from the brilliant Brambly Hedge series by Jill Barklem. I would curl up in a cozy nook holding the books close to my face so I could take in every detail of the amazing world she created. From the lush hangings on a canopied bed and adorable mice to the intricate workings of the Store Stump and finely wrought berry bushes, I was mesmerized.
I’m still in awe of her work. The attention she pays to every swoosh of fabric, fold of petal, and groove of woodwork is truly magnificent.
I could never hope to match her prowess in this area, but in homage to the years of inspiration and delight she’s given me, I thought I’d illustrate this blog post with my own humble doodles.
Throughout her books, Barklem highlights simple events in the lives of her mice: a winter ball, a young girl getting lost, a wedding. In each one she features the old-fashioned foods they loved. Everything was made from scratch using the ingredients found in the woods, meadows and fields where they lived: Chestnuts, berries, dandelions.
They roasted apples over open flame, baked lavish cakes, and brewed their own flower wine. I was enchanted by all of it, but especially by something called syllabubs. It was a strange and wonderful word to this Canadian girl, but I had absolutely no idea what it was. A cheese? Soup? Some sort of drink?
Finally last week I researched it and found it was none of the above. It is, in fact, a lovely, airy concoction of cream, some sort of alcohol, and sugar. I was surprised and delighted and last night I made my very first syllabubs.
I whipped heavy cream and agave syrup until soft peaks formed.
Zested and juiced a lemon,
measured out white wine,
and blended them into the cream, whipping it again until soft peaks returned.
Topped with a sprig of fresh mint it was a lusciously light and perky dessert, a splendid follow-up to a dinner of Lime-Walnut Crusted Flounder and Irish Mashed Potatoes.
Next time I want to make a posset. 🙂
Did any of you read Brambly Hedge? Is there a dish you were intrigued by as a child?
Lemony Syllabub
Ingredients:
1 cup heavy whipping cream, chilled
2-3 Tbsp agave syrup
1/4 cup chardonnay or similar white wine
Juice of one lemon
zest of one lemon
Fresh mint leaves to garnish
Directions:
- Whip cream and agave until soft peaks form.
- Add wine, lemon juice and zest and beat until soft peaks form again.
- Spoon into glasses or small dishes, garnish with mint leaves and chill until ready to serve.
by Krista | Jun 24, 2010 | Literary Nibbles
It had been a trying night for Lucy and Susan. They had clung together in the darkness as their beloved Aslan surrendered himself to the White Witch at the Stone Table. Tears coursed down their cheeks and sobs choked their throats as they covered their eyes while the horde of hideous creatures joined the White Witch in torturing, humiliating, and killing the magnificent lion.
When the murderers left they crept to Aslan’s side, kissed his beloved face, stroked his beautiful fur and cried until there were no tears left.
All seemed utterly, hopelessly lost.
The night grew desperately cold, but still they lingered. They watched in horror as mice clambered over Aslan’s body then their eyes widened as they realized the tiny creatures were gnawing the ropes that bound him. The hours passed, the sky began to lighten, and as they got up to pace and get the blood flowing to their stiff limbs, an almighty crack startled them. The Stone Table was split down the middle and Aslan was gone.
They had just begun to grieve this new calamity when a great voice resounded behind them. There stood Aslan, his golden mane glowing in the light of the rising sun. The girls threw their arms around him and peppered him with kisses. Soon they were running around the hilltop, laughing and wrestling, rolling and chasing, until Aslan drew himself up, urged the girls to plug their ears, and let out a massive roar that bent the trees in its ferocity.
Then the girls clambered onto his great, strong back, tangled their fingers in his soft mane and held on for dear life as Aslan took them on a glorious ride threading forests, leaping streams, cavorting around waterfalls, running through meadows, over hills and valleys until at last they arrived at the dark, brooding castle of the White Witch.
Susan and Lucy watched in delight as Aslan breathed life into all the poor creatures who had been turned into stone. A merry reunion took place when dear Mr. Tumnus awakened from his stony slumber. But they had no time to linger, as soon as they were ready Aslan lead the crowd of giants and centaurs, unicorns and dwarfs to the great battlefield where true Narnians were fighting for their lives.
It was a horrendous battle. Stone figures dotted the scene and everywhere the clashing of swords mingled with cries of pain and triumph. The girls slid off Aslan’s back and he tore into the melee with a mighty roar and threw himself at the White Witch, crushing her beneath him. As the evil woman fell the battle turned and within moments it was finished.
It was a costly victory. Many lay dead or wounded, among them Edmund. In his brave attack on the White Witch he had been badly hurt and lay bleeding, gasping, his face a sickly green. Aslan reminded Lucy of her cordial and she administered healing drops to as many as she could. When she returned Edmund was healed, standing tall and strong again.
That night they slept where they were, utterly exhausted from the events of the day.
I love how the next morning they awoke to find food prepared for them by Aslan, a “fine high tea.” It makes me smile to think of him bustling about while they slept, make sure they rested soundly while he brewed tea, and filled platters with scones, sandwiches and cakes. I knew he loved them.
I had my own Narnian High Tea this week, accompanied by my dear friend Nicole. We sipped sweet orange tea and chatted comfortably while we ate salmon dill sandwiches on blue cheese pepper bread, mint cucumber sandwiches on wheat, and almond scones slathered with lime curd, topped with whiskey cream and sprinkled with fresh blueberries.
It truly was a fine tea.
Almond Scones
Ingredients:
2 cups whole wheat flour
1 Tbsp ground almonds
1 Tbsp sugar
1 tsp salt
4 tsp baking powder
1/2 cup butter-flavored shortening
2/3 cup coconut milk
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
1 egg
1 Tbsp raw sugar
Directions:
- Preheat oven to 450 degrees F
- Combine first five ingredients, sift if necessary.
- Blend in shortening until mixture resembles coarse crumbs.
- Stir coconut milk, egg and vanilla together. Add to dry mixture and toss with fork until moistened.
- Lightly mix dough until it holds together.
- Pat into circle 1/2 inch thick. Cut into wedges.
- Beat second egg and brush on tops of scones. Sprinkle with raw sugar.
- Bake for 10-12 minutes until golden.
Whiskey Cream
Ingredients:
1 cup heavy cream
1 cup sour cream
1/4 cup Bailey’s or other Irish Cream Whiskey
1 Tbsp agave syrup
Directions:
- Combine all ingredients and blend until stiff but spreadable.
by Krista | Jun 17, 2010 | Literary Nibbles
While the Beavers, Peter, Susan and Lucy were having a most splendid tea, Edmund was utterly miserable.
He had slipped away while the others were merrily feasting, crept behind a curtain, then scooted out the dam door before anyone noticed he was gone. In his haste to leave he had forgotten his coat, his cozy, long, fur coat that would have kept him snugly warm in spite of the rapidly falling snow and deep darkness. Instead he was in his shirt sleeves and short pants as he hunkered down and forged ahead through the swirling snow, heading for the home of the White Witch.
His way was slow and treacherous as he slipped down snowy banks, bashed his shins against hidden rocks, and fell into drifts. Soon he was battered, sopping wet and cold to the bone. He would’ve turned back if his selfish little heart wasn’t clinging fast to the image of himself as King of Narnia, lording it over his brother and sisters, paying them back for every perceived slight. His dreams of grandeur and power gave him renewed strength and he pressed on until he came to the massive iron gates of the White Witch’s castle.
How I shivered at the thought of that bleak, imposing place, all spiky turrets, ice, and menacing silence. My eyes widened as Edmund came upon the courtyard filled with lions, dwarfs, and centaurs all turned to stone. I could feel the dread that must have been in his heart, the first inklings of fear, the sure knowledge that he had made a terrible, terrible mistake. And my heart leapt in fright as he stepped over a stone wolf that suddenly rose, very much alive and absolutely terrifying.
He was a massive grey beast, Fenris Ulf, Chief of the White Witch’s Secret Police, and within moments he was leading Edmund into the presence of the White Witch.
The meeting was nothing like Edmund had expected. There was no warm greeting, no thanks for the vital news he had risked his neck to bring, and not a single piece of Turkish Delight. Instead a dwarf brought him an iron bowl of water…
…and an iron plate with a dry hunk of bread.
Before he could finish he was commanded to sit beside the White Witch in her sleigh, joining her on a nightmarish journey to find Aslan. They rode swiftly at first, the snow cold and slick beneath the sleigh, but after a few hours they were unable to move, all the snow melted into great puddles. Spring had come to Narnia. The White Witch was livid! Anyone standing in her way was turned to stone and Edmund was bound and driven like a prisoner, cursed and whipped by a malicious dwarf. He stumbled and slipped and kept walking, tripped and fell and kept walking, until at last they stopped and he collapsed face down on the ground, not caring what happened to him in his relief to be resting at last.
I was so scared for him as he lay there. I wanted to warn him that they were going to kill him, that he must summon a last bit of strength to run away and save himself. But there was nothing I could do. I simply listened in anguish as they hauled him up roughly, bound him to a tree, bared his throat, and sharpened a knife, whir, whir, whirrrr.
Suddenly there were shouts and shrieks all around them! Hooves beating, wings flapping, the White Witch screaming.
Then it was over.
Edmund felt his bonds loosen as strong arms held him close, and kind, strong voices murmured comforting words as a glass of wine was pressed to his lips.
Around him figures bustled and called out and just as things got interesting, Edmund fainted. Moments later he was carried off to Aslan by a jostling party of unicorns, centaurs, birds and deer. He was safe at last.
Bread and Water
Ingredients:
one hunk stale bread
8 oz none-too-clean water
Directions:
- Toss bread on plate.
- Splash water in bowl.
- Drop on floor and serve with a snarl.
by Krista | Jun 10, 2010 | Literary Nibbles
The moon was high and the snow thick on the ground as Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, Peter, Susan and Lucy hurriedly shouldered their bundles and left the cozy dam. Edmund’s disappearance confirmed their suspicions that he was in league with the White Witch and they were in mortal peril. I remember willing Mrs. Beaver to hurry, HURRY, as the wolves sent to kill them got closer and closer.
At last they departed, the children following Mr. Beaver on a path that meandered next to the frozen river. I pictured that scene so many times, envisioning the white world glowing and magical in the moonlight. I imagined the slippery ice of the dam, the deep snow they trudged through, their much-too-big fur coats leaving a trail behind them. I thought hiking all night long must have been horrible, and felt their pain as their burdens felt heavier, their feet dragged and eyelids drooped.
Finally they stopped as Mr. Beaver veered off the path and scurried into a hole in a dense thicket. They climbed in after him, finding a snug little cave, dry and safe from prying eyes. It was cramped and the ground uneven, but with so many bodies (and a sip from Mr. Beaver’s flask!) they were soon warm and fast asleep.
They woke hours later as daylight glimmered through the opening, and were jolted into alertness by the sound of jingling bells. Fear gripped them as Mr. Beaver slipped out of the cave to see who it was, and their hearts leapt in fright as voices drifted down. Surely Mr. Beaver had been caught by the White Witch!
Within moments, however, Mr. Beaver was calling cheerily for them to come out and join him. So blinking and rumpled and dirty, they emerged from the cave and scrambled up the steep bank. There were reindeer and a sleigh and bells, but instead of the evil White Witch stood the massive, bearded, and red-robed Father Christmas. I remember thinking how lucky they were to meet him, how comforting that solid, beaming man must have been after their terrifying flight in the dark.
Father Christmas brought more than presents and jollity that day, he brought strength and a renewed hope that all was not lost. He bestowed gifts on them: a sewing machine for Mrs. Beaver, a mended dam for her husband, shield and sword for Peter, bow, arrows and horn for Susan, and for Lucy a small dagger and a vial of healing cordial.
Then Father Christmas produced a large tray laden with cups and saucers, sugar bowl, cream jug and “a great big teapot all sizzling and piping hot.” And with a shouted “Merry Christmas! Long live the true King!” he was off.
Before the men could get side-tracked examining Peter’s weapons, Mrs. Beaver gathered them round for bread and ham sandwiches and steaming cups of strong tea. What a lovely respite after much danger and tension.
But their adventure had only begun. 🙂
Krista’s Ham Sandwich
2 slices dark rye bread, sliced thin
sweet hot mustard
2-3 thinly sliced pieces of ham
1 large slice Havarti cheese
Directions:
- Spread bread with mustard and top with ham and Havarti.
- Place under broiler for 2-3 minutes until cheese is melted.
by Krista | Jun 3, 2010 | Literary Nibbles
Last week we entered the snowy world of Narnia and had a delectable tea with Lucy and Mr. Tumnus in his snug little cave.
Today we join Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy as they cluster around the remains of Mr. Tumnus’ cave, now empty and bearing the marks of violence and kidnapping.
Afraid and unsure of what to do, they are suddenly distracted by the appearance of a talking beaver telling them to hush. Motioning them to follow him, he leads them into a dense little grove of trees where he warns of the White Witch and tells of the powerful Lion, Aslan.
Hearts quickened for reasons they don’t yet understand, they happily follow Mr. Beaver home to his dam, eager for warmth, more stories, and dinner.
I still smile when I think of the home of Mr. and Mrs. Beaver. I picture the children inching carefully along the icy pathway while gazing in awe at the “glittering wall of icicles, as if the side of the dam had been covered all over with flowers and wreaths and festoons of the purest sugar.”
How wonderful it would’ve been for them to look up, cold, wet and hungry, and see smoke rising from the hive-like dam giving hope of a hot fire and warm food.
I love the Beaver’s home, a cozy little nook with tidy bunk beds and walls hung with onions and hams and all manner of fishing paraphernalia.
The story continues with Mr. Beaver and the children being greeted warmly by Mrs. Beaver who immediately puts them to work catching fish and boiling potatoes for their supper. And what a meal!! Pulling up three-legged stools, they filled their oven-warmed plates with fresh bread…
…and pan-fried trout. I, alas, do not have a trout-filled stream nearby, so I fudged a bit using flounder instead, and baked it with a scrumptious buttery walnut-lemon crust. Twasn’t exactly by the book, but I didn’t mind a bit.
The fish was accompanied by simple boiled potatoes…
…with a “great big lump of deep yellow butter in the middle of the table from which everyone took as much as he wanted.”
While Mr. Beaver gulped from a huge jug of beer, the children and Mrs. Beaver sipped creamy milk.
Just as they cleaned up the last of the fish, Mrs. Beaver surprised them with a “great and gloriously sticky marmalade roll, steaming hot” followed by cups of tea. I’ve never had a marmalade roll before, but was eager to try it. I looked up several versions, but finally settled on one that reminded me of muffin-sized upside down cakes. I didn’t have quite enough marmalade for the job so I added a smidgen of raspberry jam and it worked beautifully. The cake is nice and moist, even though I used whole grain flour, and so buttery. The marmalade saturates the batter and forms a wonderful caramelized top for each cake. That Mrs. Beaver is one fine cook. 🙂
*all book quotes from “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe” by C.S. Lewis
Baked Flounder with Lemon Walnut Crust
(Adapted from Nuts)
Ingredients
1/2 cup ground walnuts
Zest and juice of two lemons
3 pounds sole (I used flounder)
Kosher salt and pepper to taste
3 Tbsp unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
Lemon wedges for garnish
Directions:
- Preheat oven to 450 degrees F
- In a small bowl, mix together walnut meal and lemon zest. Set aside.
- Arrange fish in a single layer in baking dish, skin side down. Drizzle lemon juice over fish, then sprinkle with salt and pepper.
- Spread walnut lemon mixture over top as evenly as possible.
- Scatter butter bits over everything.
- Bake for 6-8 minutes, or until fish is done.
- Garnish with lemon wedges.
Orange Marmalade Raspberry Rolls
(From Cooks)
Ingredients:
1 1/4 c. orange marmalade (I used 1 cup marmalade, 1/4 raspberry jam)
1 c. (2 sticks) butter, softened
1 1/4 c. warm water (105-115 degrees)
2 pkgs. yeast
1/4 c. sugar
1 tsp. salt
2 eggs
1 tbsp. grated orange peel
3 1/4 c. flour (I used organic whole grain pastry flour)
Directions:
- Combine orange marmalade and 1/2 cup butter. Cook over medium heat until butter is melted. Spoon into large ungreased muffin pans.
- Measure warm water into large mixer bowl. Sprinkle or crumble in yeast, stir until dissolved. Add sugar, salt, remaining butter, eggs, orange peel and 2 cups flour. Mix at low speed. Beat 2 minutes at medium speed.
- Blend in remaining flour. Beat 1 minute.
- Spoon into muffin cups. Let rise in warm spot, no draft, for 30 minutes.
- Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes or until golden brown. Remove from pans immediately. Serves 18.
by Krista | May 27, 2010 | Literary Nibbles
The Chronicles of Narnia were among my favorite stories as a little girl, read over and over again in my various nooks: behind the couch, in a blanket fort, tucked up on my bed.
Last week I had such fun making Turkish Delight, that magical confection that charmed and enticed me ever since I first read about it in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.
Another fond food memory from the book is Lucy’s scrumptious tea with Mr. Tumnus, the faun. I loved picturing them strolling arm in arm through the snowy woods, visiting away like old friends even though they’d only met moments before.
I adored Mr. Tumnus’s cave, and longed to have one of my own that I could decorate cozily. I spent many a happy moment imagining a roaring fire, thickly carpeted stone floor, walls lined with books and treasures, and two chairs (“one for me and one for a friend”).
Then there was the tea. That beautiful, wonderful tea, served in the glow of a crackling fire.
First there was “a nice brown egg, lightly boiled, for each of them.”
Then, “sardines on toast, and then buttered toast, and then toast with honey.” I’d never had sardines on toast before, but it’s really quite splendid! I liberally buttered piping hot toasted grainy bread, topped each slice with sardines, and added a sprig of fresh dill. Lovely.
Finally, “a sugar-topped cake.” Admittedly this was a little tricky to recreate since that is the only description given, so I gave my imagination free reign.
I thought it should be something wholesome, old-fashioned, yet utterly delicious. I settled on a banana bread batter studded with dark chocolate chips and baked in popover tins so they’d be nice and tall. When the muffins cooled, I sliced each one into five 1/2-inch layers, sandwiching each layer with pure sour cream. I drizzled each little cake with a sauce of sour cream thinned with rum and sweetened with powdered sugar. A light dusting of nutmeg finished them off.
Wow. I devoured the first one in minutes. The sour cream is absolutely heavenly mingled with the sweet cake and just a hint of rum-flavored sauce.
That Mr. Tumnus sure knew how to put on a good spread. 🙂
Sardines on Toast
Ingredients:
4 slices grainy whole grain bread
butter
1 tin sardines, drained
4 sprigs fresh dill
Directions:
- Toast slices of bread and butter generously.
- Top with sardines and a sprig of dill.
- Serve warm.
Sugar-Topped Banana Cake with Rum Sour-Cream Sauce
Ingredients:
banana bread muffins (use your favorite recipe and add dark chocolate chips. Bake in popover tins so they are nice and tall)
1 1/2 cups extra thick sour cream
1/2 cup sour cream
1 Tbsp rum or rum flavoring
1 Tbsp powdered sugar
Ground nutmeg
Directions:
- Slice banana bread muffins into 1/2 inch layers.
- Sandwich layers with extra thick sour cream, then set on individual dessert plates.
- In small bowl mix 1/2 cup sour cream with rum and powdered sugar. Beat until smooth.
- Drizzle each muffin with rum sauce and dust with nutmeg.
