As predicted on Friday:
Cucumber salad with peanuts, mint, and basil (from Cook’s Illustrated #111! One more down!)
All right, party people, I’m pretty sure this is the last post in my series on traveling super-fancy Virgin Atlantic Upper Class style. The first was during the trip out to my Opa’s funeral early last month, then a few weeks later I showed off my flying fancy schwag (and the Virgin Clubhouse at Heathrow, OMG, and
yesterday Friday I posted a bit about the actual in-flight experience. But I have, in a sense, saved the best for last, which is to say today I’ll be writing about what I ate on said ridiculously luxurious flight.
It’s fall, gentle readers. I am reluctant to admit it after such a weird summer, much of it cold and wet. But the sun barely shone into my food sociology class at 5 PM yesterday, and not just because it was overcast. The days are now shorter than the nights in this hemisphere, and that’s that. Still, I’ve been craving salad, perhaps because I haven’t eaten it much the past season what with the weird weather and salad-meister Peter being across the country. So last week I made this dressing, since although salad is one of my summer foods I wanted something a little richer and autumnal than my standard vinaigrette. I worked from a recipe in my beloved Moosewood New Classics, kinda like Tracy Granola is based on New Classics, only perhaps even more so â€” for both recipes, I open the cookbook to the original recipe’s page, then change almost every ingredient’s measurement to my personal tastes. All of which is to say, please, tweak my version to your heart’s content. For more food for thought about how cookbooks are written and how that may not have much relation to how they’re used, check out Rachel Laudan’s recent-ish post about Julia Child, Elizabeth David, and other visions of French food. I liked it very much. And now, on with the recipe. Continue reading
According to my mother, the original plan for Oma’s 80th birthday was to keep things simple. Sure, we rescheduled a bit, since December 29 is a terrible time for family gatherings for reasons at least equal in number to the strong personalities involved in such a gathering, and June decreased the likelihood of lousy Dutch winter weather cramming us all indoors together. The date decided, Mom proposed a family meal at a nice restaurant, only then… well, neither she nor my aunt Ingrid are willing to take or give any blame about this development, but next thing anybody knew, a small family get-together had turned into Oma inviting everyone she knows and loves for drinks and munchies in Ingrid’s back yard. What can I say? My Oma loves being in the middle of a crowd, especially a crowd of family and friends, and celebrating someone turning an age with a zero in it kind of means doing whatever they want. (Have I mentioned that I turn 30 in August? But that I don’t know what I want?) Oma wanted a party, and a party she got. Continue reading