Sunday 27 March 2011

Carnivale!

Every year, on the 11th of November, at 11:11 in the morning, the whole world comes to a standstill, and a two minute silence is observed in respect for those who lost their lives in the Second World War. The Swiss chose this moment to begin their Fastnacht celebrations, culminating in multiple parades and street parties to mark the beginning of Lent at the end of winter.

Normally a restrained and discreet people, these celebrations are an excuse to drink on the streets, greet everyone and dress up in gay colours and to get up to mischief, safe in the knowledge that you're hiding behind that macabre mask, intending to 'scare' the winter away.









Labels: , ,

Tuesday 8 March 2011

Sunday Brunch Recipes: Baked Eggs



I am quite frankly, as OH never ceases to point out, obsessed with eggs*. I like all sorts of preparations of the versatile object, and apart from pickled eggs which I will endure, I am on a mission to prepare and/or eat all forms known to man in a bid to gather enough inspiration and recipes for the ultimate brunch place I will launch some day. OH has even come up with some names that have kept us amused for a while until the novelty of making up names with the word 'egg' in it wear off.

Eggs have always had a special place in my heart, as I was being plucked from one continent to another when I was young, eggs remained the most staple food that I could recognise in my young food repertoire. From fish and chips, pies, and stews, I was transported from the bland British offerings at the age of 5 and plonked into foreign surroundings with curries and duck tongues being staples of the daily diet. For the best part of my early days in Asia, my relatives were at a loss to what they should feed me when I went to visit. Sure, I looked similar to them: dark hair, eyes, complexion. However, when I opened my mouth I sounded like the television shows from the UK. Tweak me a little and I'd sing 'Baa Baa Black Sheep' in estuary Cockney, but for the most of it I sounded like a parrot of the BBC, and so they were baffled with me, and consequently assumed that my diet would be different too.

It started off with potatoes. Asians have this assumption that Brits only eat potatoes, just as Brits of yesteryear imagined Asians only ate rice. For three months after I arrived in Asia, my staple breakfast would be a solitary boiled potato, with the Asian influence of a dipping dish of soy on the side. Later, once or twice, out of curiousity, the maids decided to give me raw potatoes to see if I would still eat them: I did (until I had diarrheoa and it was back to boiled potatoes).

One day, instead of a potato (I imagine that the supply had run out) I was given a boiled egg. Words cannot even being to describe the ecstasy I experienced then, but my grandmother must have seen the joy on my face, and started to give me a boiled egg every day instead of a potato. Later, when I went to live with another grandmother who accidentally poured boiling water down my back while attempting to fill up the egg boiler, I took it upon myself to work the stove and so from the age of 5 (nearly 6) I began my lifelong love affair with eggs.

Anyway, while I am proficient in most ovo delights, it has taken me a while to attempt poaching after a few false starts in methods (spinning water vortex, lots of salt, tie in clingfilm etc). OH however makes mean poached eggs, and now, while I am now able to do them well, I still rely on him to be Chief Poacher to spare myself the aggravation.

This weekend just gone however, we'd been for a long run, and while I was waiting for OH to finish in the shower and commence the egg poaching for Eggs Benedict, I looked at the clock and realised we had to be somewhere else in less than 30 mins. Thus, I had to take charge of brunch. What I whipped up was so simple that I intend to do this everytime we have people over for brunch as the eggs can be served all at the same time which is not often the case with poached eggs and large groups. (For some reason I had my friend Hillary in mind when I prepared these, perhaps in anticipation of her upcoming visit.)

The eggs are baked with Hollandaise sauce, which when freshly prepared, fluffs up ever so slightly like a soufflé. This also means you can serve up the bacon/smoked salmon/spinach/anything else on platters for guests to help themselves to, so there's no vegetarian/carnivore aggravation at the table. The sweetness of the paprika lends itself a smokey quality after being in the oven, and poppy seeds gives it a slight crunch and adds texture.


Baked Eggs in Hollandaise


Eggs (2 per person)
Homemade Hollandaise (recipe to be posted soon)
Butter
Sweet paprika
Poppy seeds
Parsley to garnish (optional)

Method

Grease the ramekins slightly with butter, crack an egg into it (or if you have larger ramekins, crack 2 in per portion. Gently spoon the Hollandaise sauce over the egg(s) to cover. Add a sprinkling of paprika on top and a pinch of poppy seeds.

Place the ramekins into a baking tray, and add hot water from the kettle so the water level comes up to a third or half of the ramekin. Place immediately into an oven at 180°c (356°F) and bake for 6-8 minutes. The whites of the egg should be just about to set when removed from the oven. Bear in mind the egg will continue to cook in the ramekin so those who like more thoroughly cooked eggs can wait a couple of minutes for the egg to firm up, or those who like it runny can attack immediately with a fork to break the yolk.

Serve with toasted bread (we use warmed milk bread which is similar to brioche) and platters of smoked salmon, bacon, mushrooms or anything else you fancy.

*(I tried to look up the proper word in latin to be more precise, but 'ovophile' churns up results for some 'egg in mouth breeding Cichlidae' which just sounds wrong).

Labels: ,

Friday 4 March 2011

The countdown begins



Since OH proposed back in December, its taken a while for the news to filter through to friends. It has also taken a while for it to filter into my consciousness, and finally updating my Facebook status to 'engaged' prompted a flurry of messages and well wishers. I'm almost tempted to remove my relationship status just so it shows up as 'Marmoset is no longer in a relationship' just for the drama of it. My family, ie Mother and Father have yet to find out, but my siblings are eagerly picking out colours and dresses for the occasion.

We have now decided that the celebrations will take place in the North of England, around the Scottish borders. We have also decided that it will be in autumn, because frankly, apart from asparagus in the spring, we couldn't really think of anything else that was exciting enough for us to have at the meal. Autumn however, provides us with a variety of exciting things: scallops, truffles, game, and whisky. I know that whisky is not strictly an autumnal product, but for the sake of it, lets go with it.

Immediately following the proposal, OH launched into full planning mode, which with almost 20 months to go, was a bit of an overkill. Since then, we've been speaking about small elements of the big day, and together we're approaching it from very different views, apart from the food angle.

Many years ago I was at an event and speaking to the Chinese Ambassador, who was recounting the way the world works. I remember the analogy of the world climbing the same mountain, and the different views that people had. The closer to the pinnacle, the more the view started to be the same. OH and I have started the climb, but hopefully, we'll have the same view when we get there.

I've been thinking that I'm going to start documenting the events in the lead up to this Big Day. There will be tantrums, and there will be laughs, but there will definitely not be a Bridezilla moment.

I hope.

Labels: ,