Growing up during World War Two almost everything was rationed, or simply not available.    If you were very young during the war years you would never have tasted marshmallows or chewed bubble gum.   Gas was rationed.  We lived in the small town of Prince Albert, in the northern part of the province of  Saskatchewan.    A National Park and dozens of beautiful lakes were a short drive away.  Our Dad cycled several miles to work  saving  his gas ration coupons  for the occasional family outing.

The annual Pet Parade was a much anticipated event. Cats and dogs were coerced into sitting in small baby carriages, propped up in decorated, polished wagons or coaxed along with a leash.  Patriotic costumes were expected.    I felt quite smart dressed in a red, white and blue crepe dress.  Fortunately it didn’t rain.

This photograph of my sister and myself was taken shortly before our Uncle Bert left for war.  He was one of the many who did not return.

It was important for everyone, young and old,  to do ones bit for the war effort.  We collected string, tin foil (from cigarette packages) metal and even fat.    Once a week the women in our neighbourhood met and knitted socks or rolled bandages.   Tea and only  one kind of cookie or cake was served.    Food was rationed.   My Mother came home from one of these projects with this recipe for Banana Bread.   It was the talk of the afternoon because it didn’t contain nuts, but looked like it did.  Nuts of any kind were simply not available.    This is my Mother’s world War Two  Banana Bread.   The only change I have made is to add nuts.

MRS. BASSETT’S BANANA BREAD

1/2 cup butter ( or very good quality hard margarine)

2/3 cup scant or white or brown sugar

2 large eggs at room temperature

2 cups of flour

1/2 tsp each salt and baking soda

1 1/2 cups generous of VERY VERY ripe bananas.  They should be soft and squishy in the skins

1/2 to 1 cup coarsely chopped walnuts

Have all ingredients at room temperature

Cream butter and sugar until soft and creamy.  Add the eggs one at a time.

Combine the dry ingredients and mix alternatively with the mashed bananas.   Start with one-third the flour, when this is mixed add half the bananas, now add another third of flour mix just until the flour is assimilated, add the rest of the bananas.  Mix briefly, then add the final one-third of the flour.  Add the chopped walnuts and mix briefly.

Pour into a well greased loaf pan and let stand twenty minutes.

Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes to 1 hour.   Test by sticking a cake tester or a very thin knife, into the centre of the loaf.  It should come out clean.

Banana loaf, like most loaf cakes or breads freezes well.

Virginia’s notes:  A few years after the photograph of myself and my older sister, I started making banana bread.  This meant being responsible to get the wood-burning stove’s oven up to the right baking temperature.  The wood-box would be filled with fine kindling wood.  This wood  quickly  created a hot oven  – just the right  temperature for baking.  The test for temperature required you to put your hand into the oven and feel its warmth.  With a little practise one could tell a medium (350F) oven from a quick (3375-400F) oven.

Container gardening.  The day is sunny, warm, a rare occasion this spring.    I run my hands over  herbs, lovingly caressing and releasing their fragrance; chocolate mint, spearmint, lemon sage, thyme, oregano.

I ready the pots.   Old containers washed and waiting to be filled.  But first I visit  Summer,  the horse next door.      I’ll use the hay to partially fill the over-size ceramic pots, and for drainage.

Summer helps.  She nudges my shoulder.  She blows little puffs of breath with her velvet lips.   She rolls her enormous chocolate-brown eyes.  She flutters her super long eyelashes.  She flirts outrageously distracting me from my hay gathering.  How could I NOT stop to rub her nose and tell her how beautiful she is.

This summer I am taking inspiration from Monet inspired garden colours. In the various gardens there will be lots of pink with dashes of red and a splash or two of white.     In the very French manner the pots of herbs will grow close by the door releasing their intoxicating perfume to all who brush by.  My fingers dig deep into the rich, black soil.  Tenderly the plants are transplanted,

The summer garden will have  dahlias  in a dozen  shades of pink, perfumed stocks, dazzling red and pink geraniums, delicate  impatience and an outrageous splash of Monet’s orange nasturtiums   The hydrangea and the camellia , the peonies and the star-gazer lilies –   a spectacular garden awaits.

This gardening, this caring and nourishing of all that grows is important.   Even if your garden is a small pot in your kitchen window it brings one joy and a state of calm.

Happy gardening my dear friends.  Virginia

German pastor Martin Niemoller 1892 – 1984

He was a German theologian and Lutheran pastor. He opposed the Nazi regime during the late l930s and was imprisoned in Sachsenhauser concentration camp and Dachau concentration camp from 1938 to 1945.

“First they came for the communistic, and I did not speak out because I was not a communist. Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out because I was not a socialist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out because I was not Jew. Then they came for me and there was no one left to speak for me.”

This recipe takes the tears and pressure out of putting this  type of dessert together, and you can do it in about twenty minutes.  It is an uncomplicated recipe for this complicated and sobering time.  I did post this recipe a year or so ago, but sometimes we need to revisit a favourite recipe. My dear, dear friends   I definitely think today we need to treat ourselves to something that will make us smile.

Chocolate dark as midnight.  Caramel sauce –  toffee-like  with just a suggestion of burnt sugar.    A superb marriage of flavours.   CHOCOLATE AND SALTED DULCE DE LECHE TART is a very indulgent and very,  very French dessert.    Faced with the complex demands of making the perfect crust, the silky smooth chocolate filling and the smoky rich caramel sauce,  no wonder the perfect Paris hostess would pop into her favourite patisserie and picks up this tart.

We served this addictive dessert in our French restaurant, Roxy’s Bistro, in Regina, Saskatchewan.  This is a simplified version of our restaurant recipe.    All you have to do is chop up some roasted nuts, chocolate and oat digestive biscuits in the food processor.  Mix it with melted butter and press it into a loose-bottomed tart tin(a must).   The can of dulce de leche is opened and two-thirds of it are poured over the chilled crust. Set the rest of the dulce de leche aside,  and pour it over cake or ice cream.  Chocolate and cream are stirred together to make an unbelievably smooth and creamy sauce.  Pour this over the dulce de leche and tuck the tart into the fridge to chill.  Sprinkle the top of the pie with the finest flakiest sea salt in your pantry.  Malden salt would be absolutely perfect.

Keep the tart refrigerated until you are ready to serve it.  Cut narrow slices (it is incredibly rich) and quickly slide the tart onto the plate.  The dulce de leche will immediately slip out of the cut tart to form a fantastic sauce.

If you are an enterprising cook you could turn this into your own personal production by making the oat digestive biscuits and caramel sauce yourself.  But why do things the hard way when CHOCOLATE AND SALTED DULCE DE LECHE TART’s recipe awaits you in the  kitchen of MRS.BUTTERFINGERS.

Early morning.  The marine fog drifts across the fields and pokes fingers into the open kitchen window.  It is the week-end.  A morning to indulge.

Scones.  Feather-light.  Slip out of the oven and onto my plate.   Every week-end a different flavoured scone.  Today plump raisins stud these little beauties.  The perfect scone should be light, almost flaky.  It should practically  break apart as you lavish it with butter.

The secret to an absolute perfect scone is to make it quickly.  Don’t tarry.  Don’t try to combine every little bit of the ingredient.  Have a devil may care attitude. Hurry, hurry, hurry.   Throw it together.  Stop when it looks  almost not finished. Toss the cut scones on to the baking sheet.  Rush them to the oven.   Here is the professional bakers secret   when you bake scones (and almost every baked good).  When you think the scones are ready to come out of the oven – bake them for another minute.  It is the “brownness” that gives your finished products a wonderful deep, delicious flavour.

There are dozens of flavours you can add to this basic recipe.  Grated cheese, finely chopped dried fruit, even chocolate chips.   This printable  recipe is on my food blog MRS. BUTTERFINGERS

The snow began to fall early that evening.  Glittering snow  that turned streets and sidewalks pristine white.  It lingered in the trees and spun halos around city lights.

Soft snow flakes that wedged in the mane and eyes of sleeping lions and robed them in a cloak  of gentle white.

Snow that pushed itself  into every crevice and ledge.  Snow that silenced foot steps and muffled voices.

She had taken off her wings.  They were heavy.  The feathers whispered as she moved.    Today she would not wear them.  On this one day in the entire year she would put aside her wings and all her angel duties.

She would move silently through the city.  Recalling long ago lost memories.

This day she  would be an ordinary person.  Doing ordinary things.

She would ride through snowy streets.  Wheels singing.   Snow flying.

Wearing silver skates she would glide and spin on ice.  Skating to heavenly music only she could hear.

As the light faded she became a voyeur.  Watching  as napkins were folded.   Candles lit.  Wine poured.  Presents opened.

Her day was ending.    Sweetly she laid  down in the pristine snow and made her mark.

Snow Angels.

 Fini.

Just a reminder about Snow Angels.   They exist.  In Northern climes the first snow fall is joyfully celebrated with children and adults making snow angels.  It is common knowledge  if you make snow angels at night, under Northern Lights, your one wish will come true.

Can anyone be sure the mark of snow angels was not made by an angel.

(My dear friends.  I love the idea of angel wings.  I was in Paris  in the days leading to Christmas.  Among the the many beautiful decorations in the shops I saw a variety of angel wings.  Alas, too cumbersome  to carry home. I now have my very own rather large pair of angel wings.  Every Christmas they hang by our front door.    I remember “always welcome strangers for they may be angels in disguise”.

I am a proud Canadian. I live on a rural road close to the sweet village Ladner, located just outside Vancouver, British Columbia. I wrote my first blog January 25, 2010. A complete neophyte I stumbled my way through the foreign world of the Internet. Along the way it has been my great fortune to interact with so many wonderful and outstanding people. Today I looked at the December list of the countries who visited Bel’Occhio. It is humbling. I thank you so very much for sharing your time with me. I wish you and all you love the very best in this coming new year.

The following are countries heard from these last three weeks: United States, Canada, United Kingdom, India, Australia, Denmark, Brazil, United Arab Emirates, Russia, New Zealand, Netherlands, Belgium, Bahrain, Singapore, China, Vietnam, Poland, France, Switzerland, South Africa, Thailand, Romanian, Pakistan, Peru, Cambodia, Japan, Italy.

I would be amiss not to recognize my blog visitors from Texas, United States. They made the long journey twice to our home. We count them as among our dearest of friends. We would never have met these fine and honourable people without the miracle of the Internet and my blog.

On August 7th, this year, I celebrated my 90th birthday. My childhood was the era of steam engine railway, and how thrilling it was to travel on the black, thundering, smoking beast. Today I look back on those 90 years and take a quote from Dickens A Tale Of Two City. “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times”.

I like to make a splash  with holiday hors d’oeuvres.     Step out of the ordinary.  Conjure up the unexpected.   There is nothing more wonderful, nothing more special than freshly baked homemade crackers.    A double dose of sharp cheese makes addictive crackers then don’t even need a topping.  Just whip up a handful of ingredients.  Pop them in the freezer and  slice off rounds whenever you want to serve freshly baked crackers.

These crackers are a snap to make.   Take flour and add salt and poppy seeds.  Then work in  butter with your fingers.  Mix in the cheeses and  combine all with Dijon mustard and milk.  Roll the dough into a log and refrigerate briefly (or freeze for later).  Slice your crackers, sprinkle with a little more poppy seed and bake.

They may seem like the last thing you have time for during the holidays but the dough for these savory slice-and-bake comes together in minutes.  Make a batch or double the recipe for a bigger stash.  You won’t regret it.

Dear friends, you know how I love to gild the lily.  These crackers take beautifully to hits of hot red pepper jelly or pungent blue cheese.  A little Brie or Gouda topped with a wafer thin slice of Granny Smith apple would go down treat.

An added plus to making your own crackers.  They contain no additives or ingredients you can’t pronounce, and they cost a fraction of packaged specialty crackers.

Serve your wondrous cracker creations with glass of bubbly on New Year’s Eve.  You’ll be the toast of the town!  The recipe awaits your nimble fingers in MRSBUTTERFINGER’S kitchen.

When I wrap my Christmas gifts I l make the tags truly personal.  Sometimes it is a hint regarding the contents.  Or suggestions for clever uses for the gift.   The best ones require the recipient to guess the contents with the clues you’ve written on the tag.  It makes “being Santa”  more interesting and a great deal of fun.    Commercial gifts barely give you room to write “to and from”.  Where is the joy in that?

My solution is shipping tags.  You can buy small bundles at craft stores or a lovely big container of them from an office supply store.

Now the fun begins.  Leave them plain or give them a vintage look with a damp tea bag.  I have a lovely big stamp that looked like a letter written in French.   I used it for the background.   You could use snowflakes, floral or leaf designs or simply leave them plain.  Add cut-outs from old Christmas cards or magazines.   I computer copied illustrations in black and white for the vintage look. Spread a little white glue in appropriate places and sprinkle it with sparkle powder.  Now write some wise or witty comments on your tags and enjoy.

Every year I enjoy having a different gift wrapping theme.   I’ve draped the base of the tree with rich dark green velvet.  The gifts are wrapped with simple brown wrapping paper ” brown paper packages wrapped up with string” then tied with green velvet ribbon.  It’s all very simple and very “home made”.  For me it is all about taking some of the commercial aspect out of the season and making your gifts very, very personal.

Unlike some wrapping paper brown paper  is completely recyclable.   I even recycle the velvet ribbon .  Rolled around cardboard tubes it’s tucked away to use throughout the year.  I grew up with mantra “waste not want not”.  The word recycle did not exist, but one simply didn’t just throw out something that could be put to  use.

Scorn the blatant commercialized part of this season.  It takes just a little imagination and you can make Christmas truly personal.