Food & Thoughts

I grew up in a small suburban town, in a red brick house build by my Grandad. The house was surrounded on all sides by a big, lush garden. It was a great garden, with hiding places under the bushes, a swing and a small corner with lots and lots of rhubarb in summer. Mom used to make a mean rødgrød - a Danish fruit soup/jelly thing, served with cream and sugar (for the crunch) - out of those rhubarbs. I wish I could have said it had had an apple tree, but it didn’t. It would have been perfect in it, though. It should have been one of those huge, old ones with big, gnarly branches, in the spring adorned with delicate white blossoms and come fall, full of red and yellow orbs, like mini chinese lanterns, swinging about in the rough winds. Maybe, if you were lucky, there’d still be a couple left for the first couple weeks of winter, too. Alas. No such tree. Now, I live in the city, in an apartment, and I stil have no apple tree. But in my uncle’s little house, a mere 30 minute bike ride fr...

... to make anymore elderflower cordial. At least around here. A mere glimpse is the period when the elderflowers are in bloom. That's how it seems, at least. (okay, so you get peas, and cucumbers and tomatoes, but they don't make elderflower cordial, now do they?) I only got to make one batch. My first batch, ever, even. It is so, so good. So if there are still flowers on the trees around where you are, I urge you to make some. I don't care how you get to them - but do get them. Personally, I was found on quiet neighbourhood streets, smuggling a pair of scissors and a large plastic bag around - very discret, as always. And if you didn't make it in time either REMEMBER it next year. Put it in your calender already. Make the largest batch you can imagine. Then double it. You know you want to. And I'm telling you, you'll regret it if you don't. Here's the recipe I used, again from Camilla Plum: -makes about 3 liters which is entirely too little... 40 elder...

...and if I havent' got you humming Beastie Boys now, I don't know how to get you to do it ;) Just wanted to make sure I didn't have a no-post month and to let you all know that yes, I am alive and cooking, to boot. The cooking part of me has been in a bit of a stand-still, lately though. But, I just taught myself how to do those long, swirly cucumber thingies (hence the "don't stop" in the title) and I hope I'll have a proper post up soon. Maybe in the next couple of days. Be well so long.

This is a post that has been crazy long time underways. I think the pictures have been hiding here in my drafted posts for about two months, and I just haven't been able to get them posted. Why, I don't know. It's not like more well-mannered people didn't get their post up faster than I did, it's just. I think maybe I'm lost for words. So again, I give you photos+just a couple words. People, this place is nothing short of amazing. Æbleskiver filled with pulled pork, dusted with vinegar powder. A nice start to the afternoon. Yes, I'm talking about noma . The restaurant that is the 15th. best in the world and which is located in our tiny town. The restaurant that has a dogmatic approach to the food it makes, and that has a well-educated and completely lovable staff and kitchen. This is a restaurant that is just a thrill to be in. Which is probably why we stayed for six hours, even though it was just lunch! Beet raisins, horseradish snow and vinegary "sag...

Back when I was 12, I met a girl. We met in dance class. She was a blond, skinny, aristocratic looking girl, all arms and legs, like we all were at the time. She was one of the few dancers that could compete with me in tap-dancing. She became my friend. J and I have spent innumerable hours together. In the beginning, it was mostly during dance classes, but soon, we met up every morning, biking to school, having a chat on the latest boy/girl gossip. After school, we'd meet up again, going to dance classes, or hanging around at the sport complex, checking out the guys on the skateboard ramp. We shared stories of first kisses, and first break-ups. We laughed, we danced and we sang. We watched Clueless, and Dirty Dancing, and Pretty Woman a hundred thousand times. When the first guy I had a crush on failed to call me (and I'd been waiting by the phone all night long), J was the girl to hold me close and feed me leftover rice pudding. When I broke up with my first long-time boyfrien...