perfectly palatable pumpkin pleasures

The supermarkets are almost giving away pumpkins this year! The standard price seems to be one euro but I've seen even cheaper ones out there for only 45 cents. If only all seasonal vegetables were sold at such rates when it was their time of year, how happy I would be to have a bargain pear a day. Because I've recently mentioned the importance I place on buying local produce, be that from one's own county or country at a more feasible stretch, but what's even better is when this produce is recently grown. Our bodies should be naturally in tune with the farming season anyway, with our need for different vitamins at different times of the year. Think about sitting down to eat a cucumber salad in December... not half as appealing as the same would be in July. In the winter we instinctively want to fuel ourselves on hearty vegetables, high in the energies we need to protect ourselves from the cold climate. So what have I done but profited from this short period of the year wherein pumpkins are on the shop shelves and have been busy making pots of different soup variations.
As lovely and warming as soup is and as tasty as roasted pumpkin is on the side of a dinner plate, I wanted to make something more. Savoury muffins! Baked with wholemeal flour and flavoured with rosemary from our garden they're really rather satisfying(and I'm delighted my improvised paper cases didn't cremate) Nicest when eaten shortly after coming out of the oven but today a few seconds in the microwave and a dollop of butter squished in the middle was just as delicious.

Incy Wincy

With only minor traces of shell shock displaying themselves in my post-IKEA self I used the last bit of fight left in me to combat the fatigue of working an eight-day week and bake some halloween buns. Inspired by the red, black and white colour scheme of the paper cases (purchased in I Kan't Even Aspiriate the name of the place) and the things these colours relate to at this time of year like blood, bats, ghosts etcetera I tweaked a bun version of one of those classic recipes every family seems to have; mine being one my aunty used to bake what have long been the best chocolate cakes known to any of our cousins. Then I melted dark chocolate and painstakingly drew spiders onto chocolate buttons. Because spiders are scary. Oooooooooh be afraid.... be very afraid....

a tale of two cities

I'm listening to the radio as I write this and Adam Cohen is just after having been interviewed on his album (which is soon to be released) and finished by singing So Long, Marianne. Now they're talking about things that have become obsolete in the past twenty years, like printer paper, pretend cigarettes, gobstoppers, mix tapes, dial-up connection, computers the size of fridges; the velocity of technical advances is astounding but the broadcast is also slightly disconcerting as I seem to recall a number of the items on their list as having been present, and quite the norm, in my lifetime... *begins to worry about aging... *struggles to cease said apprehension as realises scrunching of facial muscles induces wrinkles... *reverts to singing inspirational Leonard Cohen songs and decides to embrace what is left of youth

"it's time that we began to laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again"

Which is exactly what I shall do in telling my tale of the weekend past. After work on Saturday I took the bus to Dublin to visit the recently qualified Dr Nuala B. Kane and stay in her fancy new city centre apartment...

We acted our age and were lovely and civilised, having dinner and a bottle of wine and talking about all the things we had to talk about after not having seen each other in so long. Buuuhhht then we got a wee bit excited.... ahhhhnd Nuala remembered the bottle of mystery alcohol in the cupboard in the kitchen.... aahhhnd shots followed suit... aahhnd we got really friggin drunk...Aaaaahhnd woke up too few hours later in the best of spirits with the worst of spirits still flowing inside us... Buuuuht it wasn't that bad because we went to Queen of Tarts to meet Una the artist for breakfast and coffee and that was great. Then things took a turn for the worse when we lived an afternoon no hungover soul should ever have to experience: IKEA. Think it would be fun? Based on past experiences so did I. *shudder* nope it's no good I can't even talk about it only to say you'll have to take my word on this one.

ding-a-ling it's drinking time

Food for eating

I've just typed "food for thought" into Google to see what comes up and the number one answer is a link to a ub40 song. That internet, full of surprises! And now I'm distracted from what I was going to write about. A bit about lunchtime, actually I do remember how I first became aware that there are people who take food very seriously about two years ago when I worked with a raw-foodist. Although I do think it a bit extreme, the parts like using suppositories and making tea from nettles by infusing leaves in cold water for days, as well as being impractical at times (finding something suitable on a restaurant's menu must be impossible) I also think it's wonderful because it really is the best way to consume fruit and vegetables giving you the most energy and nutritional benefits and leaves you feeling great and with good skin too. Then I moved to France (and ate a lot of almost-raw meat) and learned how to eat a big meal in the middle of the day and a smaller one in the evening which is fantastic as you're filled with fuel for the afternoon and avoid the 4pm picking at biscuits phase, and then wind down slowly at nightfall because you don't have a belly full of potatoes. And then I Wwoofed and have since spent more money on groceries than my budget should really allow for by becoming a snob in terms of trying to buy only organic and Irish produce. Because what's the point in eating five portions of fruit and veg a day to protect you from getting cancer when each piece of said fruit or veg when it's mother plant has been sprayed with a variety of chemicals numerous times a day since it was a seedling so in fact it's so carcinogenic it's surprising it isn't radioactive? Or that it's been flown half way across the world, spreading even more toxins onto the fields of crops below oh lord what is the world coming to at all at all? God bless us what is this post coming to at all at all ah yes a series of images from my lunch which originally came from inspiration from the bird image on my mug of tea but got sidetracked by my prattling on about something that would never have been thought of had I simply shoved a frozen pizza in the oven

hurrah for the weekend

Little girls who play with their barbies and dress up in fancy frocks, steal mummy's lipstick and trot around in plastic high heels between their temper tantrums are the little princesses. But what about the ones who prefer to play outside like a tomboy, or read books like a bookworm? All these labels for the sort of child one was. Me, I was never a princess so now when I feel like a queen it's not because I'm wearing a pearl necklace and have placed a crown upon my head, no, it's because the old queen mother has been busy in the kitchen and I get to have two birthdays! Hurrah! Birthday number two was a dinner party with Katie and Lizanne as our invitees, Katie having the guest-of-honour seat at the table as she's like our longest living friend. And the food was a feast, a proper evening with all the appropriate accompanying alcohols to keep us more than merry; fit for a king.

C'est du bon cafe

Yesterday evening at about three minutes before closing time an old man and his big momma daughter came in to the shop looking for an espresso Italian style. She-a was-a his-a translator-a, and they were delighted to at last find somewhere with a good coffee machine. Apparently a strong shot in a small cup is harder to find than one would think. News to me. Or maybe that's because I know where to go. More probable. So that was the end of my working day, leaving me on a happy note because I loved that there was this old man travelling the world, seeing new things and new places, not letting his age stand in his way and still enjoying his little pleasures in life. And who had the love and support of his family with him too. Lovely closure to a day that began early in the morning. A very quiet morning with very few customers which gave me time to write up the freshly painted blackboards. And get my apron covered in stains of dripping white paint. Ever a slob....

a familiar face in the moon

Living in the west of Ireland we get a lot of rain, but it never ceases to amaze me how the people are constantly amazed that it's raining. I do think that if it wasn't for the weather eight out of ten people in this town wouldn't have a clue where to even begin thinking of something to say to each other. It's amazing.

And so amazed am I at how my hair can go from it's lovely just-washed-and-blow-dried looking locks to fuzzy-wuzzy-dizzy-frizzy mess in the space of five seconds by simply looking out the window at the drizzle and rain that I made haste in making another hat with wool left over from the mittens. Et voila, hat hair. Excellent. I also went a bit la la and rushed into decorating the house for Halloween. We got a massive delivery of Christmas stock at work and I HATE this, how commercially there seems to be two seasons in the year- summertime and christmas time, so I thought I'd better embrace October while it lasts and craftily constructed a couple of garlands of ghouls. Spooooooooooky.....

Old Age Pensioner

Can you believe it was my birthday? Gee whizz, ooh golly gosh I'm getting on in years. And running behind schedule in my life plan... but we'd better not dwell on that too much or I'll add even more wrinkles to my creased brow. Anyway, in true old-folk style I had an unpartyish party where we sat at the kitchen table eating cake and playing board games. Hurrah for not spending my first day of my 24th year hungover! I got some really lovely little presents from my friends and they made me so so happy. And then as I wasn't too busy being hungover I was able to finish the birthday present I started making for Jenny last week and make a note-to-self that no matter how great the thought (because it's the thought that counts) beginning work on a gift for someone when their birthday is already over means it's going to be a seriously belated belated birthday present, and that's not really very thoughtful at all. Said belated bloop are the above mittens and I sent them with fingers crossed that they fit. Not even like a glove, I just hope they fit full stop.

oh ho ho what a fiddle faddle

Once upon a time there were three blind mice who lived in a wide, undulating valley in a land far far away. And so our story begins with the story of their simple, but happy life. Although they were born as blind as the day is long they were content with their common lot, working hard without complaint and making the most of what each day sent their way. Some told them it was a misfortune they could not see the beauty of the world while others thought it fortunate their eyes saw not the outer sphere, for it is in seeing that wanting grows and want gives way to naught but greed.

But as the years passed stories telling the wonders of the universe aroused a certain curiosity amongst our three and so one Spring afternoon, with their daily chores tended to, the mice decided to profit from the fine weather and head out on a journey to the big pink mountain that was told to lie over the hills and far away.

"Oooh how exciting!" they squeaked, "what an adventure!"

"Oooh how big it is!" they marvelled "how will we ever reach the top?"

"Here we go, follow me...this way..."

During their descent down the far side of the pink mountain slope they sniffed a strange smell in the air. Slightly sweet yet somewhat sour, they pondered over what it could possibly be?

The smell was getting stronger and stronger until all of a sudden they realised what it was standing there in front of them "EEEeeeeeekk!!!!" they squealed at the top of their tiny lungs

"a cat!" they cried "a nightmare worse than a farmer's wife!"

"Quick! Let us run away home!"