Without history we are infants. Of all intellectual pursuits, history is the most supremely useful. That is why people crave it and need ever more of it.
– Simon Jenkins, “The London Times”
There are some things I love about food blogs: the writing is captivating, the photography is stunning and can cause me to wipe drool from my chin, and the recipes creatively use ingredients in new and unusual ways. But let’s get real here! That is not the way I cook on a daily basis. Nor is it the way my family wants to eat regularly. Seriously! Pickle Brine Chicken Tortilla Soup???
I like to daydream about winning the lottery, how I would choose to spend and give away the money, and how winning wouldn’t change who I am. But alas, I’ve never purchased a lottery ticket in my life. And record Power Ball winnings pale in comparison to these little gems!
“Kristina i Köket” (Kristina in the Kitchen) would be a great title for a television show! At least for the next week or so, as I visit my daughter who lives and works in the Stockholm Archipelago. She is an amazing, creative, instinctive, adventurous cook!
There is something so wonderful about this time of year — even though everyone is busy with programs, parties, and dozens of other activities, there’s this driving desire to connect with friends we haven’t seen for a long time. “Stop by for tea!”
This has been “one of those weeks”. Too much going on. Not enough getting done. Too little energy. Not nearly enough sleep. And no groceries in the refrigerator because I don’t have time to shop. Am I alone in this situation???
It seems like every child in Sweden is capable of making kladdkaka on their own by age 8. Kids grow up helping Mom and Grandma bake this wonderful and simple treat. In fact, most people I know have made kladdkaka so many times that they don’t even need to measure the ingredients.
I don’t like doughnuts or pastries. Even the smell can turn my stomach. Strange? Of course I am! But I can point to a cold and rainy day in the summer of 1970 as we were driving through the Danish countryside. We stopped at a bakery for cocoa and a treat, and the warm, sweet, suffocating smell of pasteries overwhelmed me. End of story.
Meeting an old friend after a long time and feeling like nothing has changed.
Hot and melty artichoke dip may not be the kind of friend I can hang out with, but when this recipe resurfaced after a couple years on the shelf, the friendship has been renewed and strengthened.
Long ago and far away I had large glass jars with dry mixes for everything – waffles, soups, muffins, hot cocoa, pudding, etc. Days spent at the farm with little kids under foot were made simpler that way, and edible gifts were created in pretty canning jars with the “help” of said kids.