If, like me, your 'family tree' emerged from a pastiche of transatlantic crossings, diasporas, and house fires, heirlooms may be hard to come by. So, the objects I've inherited, I guard like little eggs.
Like this Osterizer, which my parents gave to me when I 'left home' for the first time. Apparently, almost thirty years prior, Lorraine had been daydreaming about making her own baby food (if, someday, she happened to become a mother). Jack, thinking that sounded like a plan, bought her a twenty-speed blender the day she telephoned him to say that she was pregnant.
And did they
ever make baby food. My brother and I ate what they ate: fried eggs, Swiss chard, elbow macaroni - helped along by this shiny locomotive. Later on, the blender was pressed into use as a smoothie maker when the little girl of the family turned out to have a 'sensitive' constitution (and palate).
Now the blender is over 30 years old. And that little girl still loves every single thing about it: the bent faceplate, the powerful motor (encased in that sexy chromed base), its heft, the colors of the plastic buttons, its old-fashioned two-prong plug, the chip in the glass pitcher, the story of its birth, the sound of its churring and chewing, and its unfailing dependability. Adam and I use it every single day.
A long way from home, but not so far when you think about it.
The recipe for Fava Beans with Yogurt and Crunchy Bits called for a few ingredients I didn't have. I improvised with baby soy beans, a teaspoon of homemade masala, and some Pinehedge Farms kefir.
If, like me, your 'family tree' emerged from a pastiche of transatlantic crossings, diasporas, and house fires, heirlooms may be hard to come by. So, the objects I've inherited, I guard like little eggs.
"It's really hard to get German chocolate in Germany," Paradiso tells me. "It's all from Belgium!"
1. Bash up 6 mint leaves.
Good thing Cindy and Tony made a housewarming of this German paring knife! Already, I've had fun imagining myself dicing and chopping on those days when nothing soothes the stress better than 4 inches of razor-sharp stainless steel.
I've blogged before about Paticceria Gelateria Italiana (where Christina and I got that loving feeling last November). And I've blogged about my friends Julie and Amirali (who have since generously delivered a large tin of individually-wrapped Gaz candy).
Vilmas Handbakat Knackebrod is available in Sweden. This one was Rag Havssalt flavour. You can substitute with a Ryvita-brand rye crisp if you like, but it won't be quite as delicate. Either way, slather whatever you've got with a thin layer of Gorgonzola and some sort of sticky jam. I used quince paste on my first try, but this one is organic New Brunswick grape jelly. Who knew you could grow grapes in the Maritimes?
The little bean on the right is Bananica: a chocolate coated 'foamy dessert' from The Bosnian Deli on Merivale. The electric-yellow insides taste like children's medicine. Stick to 'Bananko' brand, which is lighter and less artificial-tasting.
If you won't go for banana, how about the most delicate candied orange peel covered in fine milk chocolate? Purchased at Made in France on Dalhousie.
