White Mice for Breakfast

"O mischief, thou art swift to enter in the thoughts of desperate men!"

καυτό πράγματα December 9, 2010

My DEAR Crumpets!

How dismayed I am to think how I have neglected you all these past months; the thought of my loyal fans languishing in their homes, beating themselves with stale baguettes in order to stave off the emotional pain of my departure fills me with nothing less than REMORSE and DESPAIR.

However, back I am from my visit to the Bermuda Triangle with Ricky and Leavis. It has been a most profitable trip, dear cornichons, since your own diligent food literateur found herself transported to many places over the world, not least to the island home of my old friend dear Geraldine Punnington.

Miss C. North and I languished for several days in bright sunshine, gorging ourselves on baklava, halloumi, tahini, and all variety of …OPITAS. Did you know that thAT means PIE in Greek, my dear CherryOpitas? We thus indulged in spanakOPITA, tahinOPITA, halloumOPITA… my, the list goes on!  Esther, you cry, do not taunt us with unillustrated morsels! Well here we are, crumpets:

DELECTable

Many OPITAS from Zorba's Bakery

And since you have been such pleasant companions, I shall also treat you to a picture of a remarkable groceria find!

Kolokothakia, that is LITTLE PUMPKINS, from Kipris

Remarkable, no?! It was indeed a delightful trip, with never ending mezzes abounding, such as the one at the Omodos Taverna, which continued for many days and nights, never ceasing! There were dishes of olives, and tzatziki and tahini, enormous greek salads, there were dishes of beans and rice, courgette and eggs, cous cous, plates of kleftiko (the interesting history for which can be read HERE) and when we thought we should perish from the piquant abundance of toothsome delicacies, there arrived a WHOLE BAKED TROUT.

Goodness, I recommend you all take out your embroidered E.C handkerchiefs and fan yourselves before you too faint away from fooxuberance. (Food exuberance for those who are uneducated in culinary lingo.)

I must dash and leave you for now, dear tureens; I hear Leavis calling me from the kitchen. (He is making a batch of devilled eggs, and I fear, hashing up my spice cupboard entirely.)

Never fear! Another baking bulletin will reach your eyes in the near future, with an AMBROSIAL ADVENT THEME.

Until then, clafoutises,

Esther. xxx

 

Turkish B Good March 15, 2010

Filed under: Confectionary,Savoury Delicacies — theotherhand @ 1:05 am
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This week, piccalillies, I whole heartedly encourage you to HAVE A:

Oh my, did those pearly kings and queens have the right idea! However, as colourful and wholesome as the cuisine of the music halls was, this missive, dear eaters, does not address boiled beef, pork trotters or savs. It instead concerns a deliciously CHARMING peti’terie… (a petite eatery for the less perspicacious amongst you; a SMALL culinary locale. Please make a note of this new vocabulary in your specially designed E.C. (Esther Crumpet) memo pads. I trust you have all obtained these; repetition is ever so bothersome)

… a CHARMING peti’terie with a most flavoursome dish of plantain persuasion. An elegiac elopement of textures and tastes, rich, yet humble, sweet and cool, melting but…

But I am gamboling ahead of myself, loyal chouxs! I must relate the series of felicitous coincidences which led me to the bananaine surprise! Know then, that poor Leavis has been feeling under precipitation of late, so to cheer him up I set out for a visit in my new perambulatory machine, taking with me a batch of freshly risen CRUMPETS.

However, as I was driving through the merry streets of Canterbridge, who should I espy perched in the window of a cosy establishment but Mrs P. and Pamela, who were pleasantly occupied in cooing at passing toddlers. Eager not to miss such good sport, I joined them for luncheon. Said peti’terie, Cafe Otto, is graced by two splendidly astute hosts, whose rhetorical nudges towards a superb plate of dolma were gratefully accepted.

‘Twas towards the end of our jovial repas however, that the real treat-ine was granted, and fortuitously, I captured an image:

As simple, yet elegant and TASTEFUL as one of Miss Pamela’s bows. A yielding, fudge-like centre embellished with hidden jems of pistachio and walnut, melding in a delicate morsel of banana, with chocolate robing as classic as a beatnik’s black polo neck. What is more, it was GRATIS, dear eaters, a quality which emphasized its charms twofold.

Poor Leavis never did get his crumpets. Although I entrusted them to the doorman, Roland Barthes was hanging about again like a hungry beagle. I suspect he ate them.

Love and cucumber sandwiches,

Esther xxx