Far-Flung
One of my favourite dishes is the humble tabouleh - a Middle-Eastern bulgur salad. Whenever I make it, I try to make enough for several days but I always end up (like tonight) scoffing down whatever is left over from dinner. This is a pretty good, basic recipe. When I chop the tomatoes I remove the seeds beforehand (this makes the salad less soggy) and I use a blender to chop the herbs because I'm too lazy to spend thirty minutes chopping parsley/mint.
Whenever I make tabouleh, I think of my friend Liz. Liz grew up all over the world - a true corps diplomatique child. She spent a good part of her upbringing living in far-flung countries and she would hang around in the kitchens watching local chefs preparing food. Liz's arsenal of dishes is therefore very different to all my other friends. Not only did she introduce me to tabouleh, she also taught my taste-buds to appreciate fruits used in savoury dishes, made me fall in love with American pancakes, and made me dream of zabaglione everytime I see ripe raspberries.
And then there is Atole.
Liz would cook Atole for us on cold winter nights. We'd clutch our hot mugs whilst standing on her balcony overlooking Frederiksberg and the world would be reduced to hot milk with cinnamon and sugar - and so everything would be alright with the world.
I miss Liz a great deal. She's here in the dishes I cook and in the things I enjoy, but good cups of tea and hot mugs filled with Atole are scant replacements for her company. When I miss Denmark, I miss people rather than the country. I left Denmark four years ago. In so many ways it feels like it has been a lot longer.
Ah, homesick for Denmark. Let's put on some (Swedish) music and dance around for a bit..
Turning Pages
James Robertson is a writer whose books I enjoy very much, but I do not see him mentioned much. I was surprised and delighted to see a two-page feature on Robertson in The Guardian this past Saturday; the feature coincides with a new novel, And the Land Lay Still. I could have done without the Guardian proclaiming that Robertson was aiming to write the Great Scottish Novel that this country 'so desperately needs', though, partly because I think the Great Scottish Novel has already been written and partly because I think Robertson is aiming for something else.
I picked up Robertson's The Fanatic on a whim some years ago and thought it a great, complex read about Scottish identity, the Scottish psyche and Scottish history. A very clever and entertaining book. I was less enamoured by Joseph Knight which read more .. postcolonial, if you like, and I am mildly allergic to postcolonial novels after certain university courses (long, sad story). The Testament of Gideon Mack was Robertson's big breakthrough novel and I really enjoyed its sinister humour and subversive take on a psychological thriller. It felt more mainstream/accessible than The Fanatic and also reminded me a bit of Mikhail Bulgakov's marvellous The Master & Margarita. I'm yet to read And the Land Lay Still (I'm still reading Ulysses and then David Mitchell's latest will be next) but, yes, I'm really looking forward to a new James Robertson book.
If you are in the UK, I warmly recommend watching Women's Institute: Girl Talk. A simple premise: visiting the educational HQ of Women's Institute and talking to some of the ladies participating in the courses. And then as you learn a bit about some of the nice ladies, your eyes might just get a bit misty. One of the best hours of television I have watched for quite some time. Yes, I feel profoundly middle class now, thank you.
(I have also just checked out some of the available WI courses and am drawn towards Victorian Corset Making and Copperplate Calligraphy which should surprise absolutely no one)
Finally, my parents recently went to the Czech Republic on holiday and as a souvenir they bought me a book on Czech cooking. I was very amused to find a recipe for "Home Pig Feast" which starts: 'put the pig's head, knee and tongue in a pan..' The entire thing is served with a sauerkraut salad which is basically some sauerkraut mixed with horseradish. I think I'll politely give that one a pass.
With A Slice of Cake & Heaven
I could not resist showing you a proper photo of how my Harmony cardigan is progressing. I finished the last bit of lace today, so it is all stocking stitch (and sleeve shaping) now. I have trawled Etsy and eBay for some suitable buttons - I know I am only halfway through the first of five pieces, but I have my eye firmly on the end result. I am thinking along the lines of these buttons or possibly these - I will start rummaging through my button boxes(! - it is true. I now have more than one big button box) once I have an idea of just how ornate the cardigan itself will look.
Oh, I love planning.
I think Harmony might be keeping me company during the World Cup in football (i.e. soccer for you non-Europeans). I really liked the Olympics knit-along earlier this year, and Harmony, being both a labour-intensive project and a relatively straightforward knit, would do me just fine as a World Cup project as I cheer for the Danish football team and weep bitterly into my cold buttermilk soup when they lose.
A brief, brief interlude into Eurovision-land: I am going out on a limp here but I think Armenia might be marching towards glory. It is a tentative prediction as this year's contest is really too close to call, so call this "my gut feeling" prediction more than anything. I would also watch out for Albania (a great slice of electro-pop), Turkey, Georgia, and this year's surprise contender from Cyprus. Other pundits are leaning towards Israel, but I'm really not getting it, while the early frontrunner Azerbaijan has come across limp and forced, so surely that is out of the running..?
Finally, there is nothing quite like being pigeon-holed with sweeping generalisations.
Also, this On the Rocks cover is one of the best Lady Gaga cover versions I've heard alongside that Paparazzi cover version (stay tuned all the way through the video - it gets better and better). Speaking of Gaga, have you read the Caitlin Moran interview? I had my own heroes when I was seventeen, living in Nowheresville and feeling completely Other, but my heroes were males writing songs from a male perspective (though Otherness arguably did play a part as core members of the band were gay). Later I discovered Polly Jean, of course, but I would have loved to have a prominent woman in pop culture playing hard and fast with mainstream gender perceptions (no, Madonna doesn't count for several reasons).
Now, excuse me, I have a date with a slice of carrot cake from Auntie M's Cake Lounge, my new home away from home.
I Made This
I could have given you another photo of fog, fog, fog but one is enough, right? So, let's look at luscious handmade stuff instead.
First up is my new hat, the Cairnhill Tam. I don't really suit hats, alas, but I love wearing them. They keep me warm and snuggly - especially in foggy weather! I mentioned starting this hat on Tuesday. I finished it Thursday and blocked it Friday. A quick, satisfying knit which had all the right amounts of vaguely interesting techniques, portability and easy enough to knit in company with others.
The wools behaved as I expected: the coarse Gotland wool from the sheep farm was, well, coarse and hairy, but also gave the colourwork a rather delightful halo. The Rico Poems was not impressive and I doubt I will use it for anything more than the odd accessory (if that). It felt very much like Twilley's Freedom Spirit: splitty, loosely spun and pilly. Oh well. I love my new hat and I might just have enough for a pair of matchy, matchy mitts. I'm just not sure I want the Gotland wool anywhere near my wrists.
I finished my stepdad's Christmas scarf some time ago but kept forgetting to take a decent photo.
The pattern is sheer genius and makes for a great, portable project, although I did eventually get sick of all those short rows. I used one ball of King Cole Mirage which turned out to be an unexpected good woolblend yarn (to the aghast fibersnobs reading: every yarn has its place and I may just write about that someday soon). I have another three balls in a less sedate colourway stashed. I might just make something for myself (a Clapotis? A fan shawl?), although I have plenty of other yarns I'm anxious to use.
This leaves me with just two projects on the needles: David's sweater which I need to finish very soon and my Estonian flowers shawl which I am in no hurry to finish.
Finally, I baked last night. It was so cold and chilly outside that I caved in and made one of my favourite cakes. It is a spicy pear/ginger cake from Hubble Bubble, a cookbook I received as a present some eight or nine years ago. When I first saw its whimsical "food is magic" approach, I was not too sure about cooking anything from the book, but despite appearances, it has turned into one of my favourite cookbooks.
The spicy pear/ginger cake rarely lets me down and is pleasantly non-greasy. Unfortunately I forgot that our non-stick cake tin is no longer non-stick (don't ask) and the pretty pear pattern went a bit, ahem, pear-shaped. Still tastes good - and David sneaks an extra little slice when he thinks I am not looking.
(In case you are wondering why so many of my recent photos incorporate our Venetian blinds: it is the only place in the flat with decent daytime light)
Speaking of cakes and whatnot, this one leaves me a bit bedazzled. I am sure I don't have the cake decorating skills, but I'd like to try..
A Strong Brown God (And Soup)

I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river
Is a strong brown god—sullen, untamed and intractable,
Patient to some degree, at first recognised as a frontier;
Useful, untrustworthy, as a conveyor of commerce;
Then only a problem confronting the builder of bridges.
The problem once solved, the brown god is almost forgotten
By the dwellers in cities—ever, however, implacable.
Keeping his seasons and rages, destroyer, reminder
Of what men choose to forget. Unhonoured, unpropitiated
By worshippers of the machine, but waiting, watching and waiting.- TS Eliot; from "Dry Salvages"; Four Quartets.*
The flood season has begun, in other words. Just south of the Scottish border, a policeman is currently missing as a bridge collapses in the floods. Early this morning I went for a walk along our nearby river, The Kelvin. I have never never seen it this high, although I know one of its bridges was swept away in a flood years back.
On the second photo you can see a bench where I sometimes sit knitting on sunny weekend afternoons. Not much chance of that happening right now! If we get any more rain, I think the pathways around the Kelvin are likely to be closed off. Luckily the river runs in a gorge, so there are no immediate threats to buildings in this area.
As you can imagine it has really been dreich lately so last night I made a warm, delicious soup:

Sweet Potato & Chilli Soup (serves an army of six)
1 red onion, roughly chopped
1 red chilli, de-seeded and roughly chopped
2 large carrots, diced
3 garlic cloves, peeled and roughly chopped
2 big sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into walnut-sized chunks
2 cups of veg stock (or more, see instructions)
½ tin of coconut milk
½ tsp of cayenne pepper
1 tsp of ground cumin
salt to taste (amount really depends upon the type of stock you use)
1 tbsp of olive oil
optional extras: handful of shredded cheese and dash of paprika
1. Heat the oil and add onion, garlic, chilli, cayenne pepper and cumin. Cook for about 5 min. at medium heat. Add carrots and cook until onion softened. Add sweet potato chunks. Add as much stock as will cover the veg. Put lid and cook until all veg have softened. This will take about 25-30 minutes.
2. Blend the soup - try to aim for a consistency between super-smooth and chunky. Take care you do not splash any of the hot soup on yourself (she says looking at her left hand). Add coconut milk and stir until well-mixed. Serve in bowls with some good rustic bread on the side. I put some shredded (lacto-free) cheese on top and dressed it with a dash of paprika, but I can be a bit poncy at times.
Substitutions etc: I used coconut milk because I'm lactose intolerant. You could easily use double cream, natural yoghurt or regular milk instead. If using milk/cream, you could also add a tin of chopped tomatoes and use basil and marjoram instead for a slightly more Mediterranean taste. Instead of sweet potato you could use butternut squash or even pumpkin. The sky's the limit.
(*Or, as someone said earlier this week: "water is patient".)
Croak, Croak
Health update: I think I'll be okay as long as I a) do not talk, b) do not laugh and c) keep drinking rum toddies. It is a slightly flawed plan, so I have stocked up on Halls Soothers. We are also on our third day of curly kale soup - it is my first time cooking this soup which was one of my great-grandmother's special dishes and I'm happy with the result although I'm going to tweak my recipe a tiny bit to make it a bit more like my nan's - and hopefully all those fresh veg will also make a difference.
Knitting update: I have stalled on the first sleeve of Dave's pullover and am seven rows away from finishing my shawl's Chart B. Onwards, ever onwards. I am still pondering NaKnitSweMoDo (interNational Knit a Sweater a Month Dodecathon) for next year although both my knitting group and my beloved claim I will grow bored and whiny. We shall see. It depends upon the stash.
General update in the form of one link: These literary clutch bags make my heart go all a-flutter although I am most definitely not a clutch bag girl. They combine so many of my loves: books, paratextuality, craft, things handmade and geekdom. Be still my heart.
Also, I'm getting a bit nostalgic about the noughties almost being done and dusted, so expect wallowing entries in the near future.
The Reading Survey
15. What is the most difficult book you’ve ever read?
This is being written whilst I’m gritting my teeth: Ben Marcus’ The Age of Wire and String. It’s a very, very short novel. I spent a month reading it. Then Stupid Boyfriend said: “Oh. Did you try to make sense of it? I didn’t. I just read it for the beautiful words.”
&/#”/! The book was excellent, actually, and said really interesting things about ritual language and how language acquires meaning. I am never going to read it again.
That question/answer and thirty-one others can be found at The Reading Survey which I have posted as a static page as it is too long to post here.
Thank you for all your well-wishing. I am still under the weather and have developed a nasty cough. This means I'll miss out on tonight's Guy Fawkes events but there will be others.
Also, in case you have not read it, this little post by Ysolda Teague summed up everything I wanted to say today (and it reminded me that I need to make a batch of Apple Butter as Casa Bookish's usual supply from the St. Alban Church Fete has finally run low after I have been unable to attend/stock up for several years).
If It’s Saturday, It Must Be Random
You take approximately 750g of ripe elderberries (rinsed and de-stalked, natch), 200g of granulated sugar, two table spoons of lemon juice, two diced cooking apples and about 2 pints of water. Stick 'em in a pan and boil until you've squeezed every last drop of goodness from the elderberries. This should take about ten minutes.
(Remember to remove the pink foam that will form on top of the boiling goodness.)
Then strain your elderberry juice through a clean tea towel (it will stain your tea towel!), dice another three cooking apples and put them into the elderberry juice, boil until apples are cooked (and add sugar and lemon juice to taste - usually I don't see the need, though).
Serve hot in a mug with a spoon to fish out those delicious apple bits. It's toe-curlingly wonderful stuff.
Meanwhile, on the knitting front, I have been working on a pair of fair-isle fingerless gloves to match my autumnal hat. I'm two rows away from finishing one glove and I think I will leave it at that.
It is not that it is not pretty. It is not that it is not a quick knit (each glove takes less than two evenings worth of knitting time). It is not that I do not have enough yarn. I am just not feeling it, baby.
Granted, the fit is awkward (slouchy where I'd prefer snug) and I have issues with the pattern (such as increases not fitting with the colourwork). But I could deal with that - ripping out the excess fabric and adjusting the increases - if I knew I'd wear the finished gloves. But I'm pretty sure I won't. The hunt is still on for autumnal gloves, then.
Finally, a few links:
- I want this bathroom.
- I want one of these hats (and generally want more people to wear hats!)
- Scientists draw squid using its fossilised ink. Amazingly cool.
- Scotland's oldest robbers are, of course, local boys.
- While the UK condemns ring-wing groups, something is still rotten in the state of Denmark.
- Finally, if you are able to use BBC's iPlayer, I recommend Peter Capaldi on Scottish portrait painting and the first episode of Tweed, a docu-soap about Harris Tweed. For someone who claims not to watch much TV, I have been watching quite a bit lately..
Knitters’ Picnic – Worldwide Knitting in Public
This year's Worldwide Knitting in Public event in Glasgow is going to take place on Saturday the 13th of June in the Kelvingrove Rockery, Kelvingrove Park at 1pm.
We'll be having a picnic, so bring blankets, water, sunscreen(!), knitting/crocheting projects and something to nibble on. In case of rain, the tentative backup plan is to meet in the main hall of Kelvingrove museum. Non-knitters are encouraged to show up and be assimilated.
(The other week I remembered Glasgow knitters idly chatting about a picnic months and months ago. I revived the topic on Ravelry and, yes, I've somehow ended up "hosting" this event. Let that be a lesson to you all)
Conflicting Emotions
Being back in my native Denmark feels bitter-sweet.
On one hand, I'm loving speaking Danish. It's really, really good seeing my loved ones. I am enjoying simple pleasures taking a walk around the beautiful countryside with its gentle rolling hills and soft green hues. The food is super-fresh and tasty. The streets are clean and public transport is a joy.
On the other hand, Denmark is populated by Danes. I need to write about my nationality and why I continue to have huge problems embracing my being a Dane - but I have limited computer time at the moment, so watch this space post-holiday. I have also received some upsetting news from Scotland, so I'm feeling a bit strange.
Long live retail therapy, then, and particularly the yarn shops. Today I went to a local sheep farm where I bought both some of their own "homegrown" wool as well as some beautiful 1-ply mohair/silk in stunning colours. Yesterday I went to a more traditional yarn shop and spent almost two hours looking through their inventory. I escaped with a sought-after pattern book and enough wool for a pullover. I also found a 1940s knitting book in a second-hand shop and it is proving a most educational/entertaining read.
Tomorrow looks to be another day of sunshine, excellent food and maybe a yarn shop or two..
