What’s behind the blue door?
The chickadees have long been friendly,
but this is the first year I’ve had nuthatches in hand.
This little white lamb is a charmer – always curious and full of beans…
..who’s mama’s favourite little mountain goat?
And I hate to say it, but the alpaca babe (Benedict, of course) has a funny face.
As we engage in our annual reflections about food and menu in the monastery’s dining room, it happens that the Food Programme’s latest show was on nursery school food and what toddlers eat: the roots of institutional dining, and part of the programming that shapes a child’s food tastes for life.
There was an observation that parents ought to be looking at the food offered to children with the same care they pay to checking out the qualifications of the staff and the rest of the facilities.
An interesting point made: don’t expect children to take to something you demonstrably don’t eat and enjoy yourself: “It’s no good expecting a child to eat something if you make a face when you feed it to them” remarked Dr Gillian Harris, a child psychologist (interviewed to much the same ends in this interesting piece on ‘supertasters’).
And the French were again held up as a model of good practice; this time for school meals – where attention is paid to the quality of the food as well as the food culture around it. Which is nice to hear, but not what we witnessed being fed to students of business school age, if what we experienced at the Dijon Business School is anything to go by.
I was even happier to have been born liking broccoli and cauliflower when I read this article.
What a social whirl this week. Cake after cake, treat after treat, chocolates every which way. On Tuesday we had some fun at the Muenster Family Restaurant:
Awesome pork chops. Lemon potatoes. Mmmm, be it ever so humble….
Then we marched back through the frosty night air to have cake with Fr Demetrius, to celebrate his birthday, with musical stylings by Reg.
Thursday was the colony’s weekly reading and we did a mini-tour of two of our artists’ studios as well. Shelley showed us the beginnings of another of her awesome photographic projects, this one documenting a buffalo effigy in Saskatchewan. Apparently such effigies are not unusual in Saskatchewan; they’re made of boulders and often featuring turtles or human figures, but this seems to be the only one of a buffalo. She’s taken 1500 photos which she’s merging for a life-sized reproduction which will measure about 15 by 35 feet. I have yet to walk all over the project she showed us last time I was here, which was stunningly beautiful photography of tipi rings, now installed on the floor of the Regina Airport.
We then had a look at Honor’s charcoal portraits. If all life begins from carbon, she reasoned, what could she create with a simple stick of burnt willow? Some kind of beautiful, it was. Portraits of many of the writers who are here again this year, and she’s going to add some other life forms too including Tipsy the sheep who just gave birth to lovely little lambs (clocking in at 12 lbs each).
And lambs there are a-plenty just now.
Buddy’s a trainee sheepdog.
Maureen tells me that the farmer told her a great story about Buddy’s training. He was taken out to a field to meet the sheep, and when he got out there in the middle of them, they all gathered in a circle around them. He looked them all over for a minute and then went and licked each sheep’s nose in turn. I think he’s gonna work out just fine.
I whirled up a batch of Uova Tonnato for aperitivo hour, and was fortunate to find that Cupid had decorated the table before I got there.
I have earlier given a link to Delia’s version of this magical sauce, but as many seemed to want an actual recipe, here’s my modified version of a nice simple one, from my treasured Good Cook series. When choosing your tuna, remember that Bluefin and Yellowfin are endangered (overfishing) and even Albacore, which I’d heard was the one sustainable species, is also being dramatically overfished. Alas…
Uova Tonnato (Eggs in Tuna Sauce)
Based on a recipe for Vitello Tonnato/Veal in Tuna Sauce, from The Home Book of Italian Cookery, Beryl Gould-Marks (Good Cook: Beef & Veal)
3.5 oz (125g) can tuna, preferably packed in olive oil, drained
3-4 anchovy fillets, soaked in cold water for 10 minutes and patted dry
1 cup (250 ml) (approx) olive or other good quality oil
1-2 tsp (5-10 ml) fresh lemon juice
2 tbsp capers, rinsed & drained well
salt & pepper
1 dozen organic free range eggs, hard-boiled, shelled and sliced
It has been a bit warmer, if that is the word, but even my hardy Edmonton companions found a few minutes of yesterday’s walk a journey through the most biting cold imaginable. The day before, we’d had an invigorating march out to the barn to see the animals… barely warmer than outside, said my frozen fingers. Maybe better pics another day, but here’s how it looked: mums and babes, and away in the distant background a cackle of chickens and a dabble of doves – who are being trained for work at weddings and funerals apparently.
Last night’s entertainment was a reading by visiting poetic dignitaries Bert Almon
and Olga Costopoulos who warmed us all up by reading from their latest collections.
And finally, a happy electronic acquaintance: my Crete entries from last April have connected me with an expat cook on Crete, who has a blog of her own featuring some very promising looking recipes.
It’s all about the weather here. Today started sunny and clear and is now grey and cold, cold, cold. The forecast is for a wind chill temp of -41c (or a not entirely desirable -25 out of the wind). I think the chickadees will have to wait for their hand feeding a few days longer.
Before leaving for the monastery, I indulged in a good but not ethereal meal at Saskatoon’s own Nouveau Brit restaurant, Simon’s British Flavours. I was intrigued by the sound of the cheese and butternut squash souffle, but it was a shrunken little muffin
when it reached the table; clearly either the cook or the souffle had not read Delia’s opinion that souffles with vegetable puree can never fall flat on you. It was tasty enough, but I think I’d do some home experiments before trying this again in a restaurant.
Then after valiant work on her part, the last morsels of Mary’s itty-bitty lamb shank
defeated her, while I managed most of my nicely cooked (humanely reared) chicken, although I could have done without cream in the veggies.
We couldn’t manage dessert, or popcorn when we reached our next destination, a screening of Juno, which we agreed was appealing enough as a movie, but not what either of us would call Oscar material.
Then it was off to the east, and although there was a bit of blowing snow we managed to reach Muenster without incident, just in time to witness the start of a good snowfall, which fell a bit short of the blizzard I had been hoping for.
There has been some discussion of snow since I’ve been here. One term I learned was “finger drifts” which are the long, finger-like drifts that creep across roads. A less descriptive one was “ground drifting” which refers inadequately to the sweeping, snaking rivers of dry flakes that blow across the highway, causing a kind of hypnosis if you’re not careful. I liked Cherie’s suggestion to change it slightly to “snake drifting” (although this term seems to be already taken by car idiots who like to fishtail around parking lots) — which would work for this kind:
but we need a straighter term for this kind:
