tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83487103388178958602024-03-14T03:47:51.032+10:30reading feedingskiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-38002890329974540072015-08-09T06:00:00.000+09:302015-08-09T06:00:00.346+09:30She doesn't really like fruit at all<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'I'm beginning to wonder if I wasn't a bit impetuous offering him the job just like that. But then that's what I'm like – you ask Mother. One day I bought six pomegranates on the way home – imagine it, six! We didn't know what to do with them. Of course Mother doesn't like anything with seeds, or anything foreign, come to that. She doesn't really like fruit at all.'
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>An Unsuitable Attachment</i> (1963/1982) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Barbara Pym </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I wrote a little about why I love Barbara Pym <a href="http://bookforgetter.blogspot.com.au/2013/06/review-barbara-pym-reading-week.html">here</a>.
</span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-6444845719530442702015-07-09T06:00:00.000+09:302015-07-09T06:00:00.591+09:30why, he was gelatined too<br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Side by side, they looked at Mme. Tussaud's own modelling of Marie Antoinette's severed head fresh from the basket; they listened to somebody's cook beside them, reading from her catalogue: "Mary Antonette, gelatined in 1792; Lewis sixteen, – why, he was gelatined too"...
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>Seducers in Ecuador </i>(1924)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Vita Sackville-West</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">A wonderful novella - <a href="http://bookforgetter.blogspot.com.au/2012/06/review-seducers-in-ecuador-heir.html">very, very odd</a>. </span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-24058163172338177992015-06-09T06:00:00.000+09:302015-06-09T06:00:00.602+09:30a friendship that was a shrine to food<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">For another thing, Thelma Rice really didn't care about food – that was clear from her gluey puddings – while the four of us had a friendship that was a shrine to food. We had driven miles to find the world's creamiest cheesecake and the world's largest pistachio nut and the world's sweetest corn on the cob. We had spent hours in blind taste testings of kosher hot dogs and double chocolate chip ice cream. When Julie went home to Fort Worth, she flew back with spareribs from Angelo's Beef Bar-B-Q, and when I went to New York, I flew back with smoked butterfish from Russ and Daughters. Once, in New Orleans, we all went to Mosca's for dinner, and we ate marinated crab, baked oysters, barbecued shrimp, spaghetti bordelaise, chicken with garlic, sausage with potatoes, and on the way back to town, a dozen oysters each at the Acme and beignets and coffee with chicory on the wharf. Then Arthur said, 'Let's go to Chez Helene for the bread pudding,' and we did, and we each had two. The owner of Chez Helene gave us the bread pudding recipe when we left, and I'm going to throw it in because it's the best bread pudding I've ever eaten. It tastes like caramelized mush. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Cream 2 cups sugar with 2 sticks butter. Then add 2½ cups milk, one 13-ounce can evaporated milk, 2 tablespoons nutmeg, 2 tablespoons vanilla, a loaf of wet bread in chunks and pieces (any bread will do, the worse the better) and 1 cup raisins. Stir to mix. Pour into a deep greased casserole and bake at 350° for 2 hours, stirring after the first hour. Serve warm with hard sauce.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>Heartburn</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Nora Ephron (1983)</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I think <i>Heartburn </i>was the first book where my kindle refused to save any more 'clippings': <a href="http://bookforgetter.blogspot.com.au/2013/02/review-heartburn.html" target="_blank">my review</a>. A wonderful book about food and love and other disasters. "Would anyone love me if I couldn’t cook?" </span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-87866912155999596522015-05-27T06:00:00.000+09:302015-05-27T06:00:00.411+09:30a restaurant for women only<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">It was an innovation, a restaurant for women only. Although dining for upper- and middle-class women was already available at the various women's clubs, and although some conventional restaurants provided ladies' dining rooms discreetly located in upper storeys or side-rooms, <i>Dorothy</i>'s was a bold modern proposition. Its door was right on the street, and it was open to all classes of women, from shop assistants to duchesses. Offering cheap wholesome fare for all, <i>Dorothy</i>'s liberated the former from having to eat a bun in a shop and offered the latter a new kind of experience. You just bought an eightpenny dining ticket on entrance, took a seat at one of the tables and waited for your 'plate of meat, two vegetables and bread' to arrive. For an extra couple of pence you could also get pudding, and for a further penny tea, coffee or chocolate. <i>Dorothy</i>'s was a perfect example of how, in late Victorian London, Aestheticism, liberalism and feminist sympathies could collide. The first branch of the restaurant to open, in Mortimer Street, had cream-coloured walls with 'aesthetic crimson dados' and had been made 'gay with Japanese fans and umbrellas'. The Oxford Street branch, which opened just months later, was a far more dramatic proposition, its windows hung with rich Indian curtains, its ante-room painted a deep red that offset luxurious couches, small tables and carefully selected ornaments, and its larger luncheon room featuring rows of simple tables set with glazed white cotton tablecloths surmounted by vases of fresh flowers.
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>Constance: The Tragic and Scandalous Life of Mrs Oscar Wilde </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Franny Moyle (2011)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">A really very good biography of Constance Wilde, who led an interesting as well as tragic life. On The Dorothy Restaurant, see <a href="http://lostwomynsspace.blogspot.com.au/2012/10/dorothy-restaurant.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lPnfmoAACR8/VSd53Q8Zl-I/AAAAAAAADfk/zwSOrla8u0s/s1600/dorothyrestaurant.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lPnfmoAACR8/VSd53Q8Zl-I/AAAAAAAADfk/zwSOrla8u0s/s1600/dorothyrestaurant.png" height="201" width="320" /></a></div>
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skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-19218531511334011322015-05-09T06:00:00.000+09:302015-05-09T06:00:00.654+09:30Emotion is extremely exhausting, and Emma makes very nice fish-cakes<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">She went on telling Miss Silver everything she knew. It gave her the most extraordinary sense of relief. When she had finished she felt weak, and empty, and quiet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Miss Silver coughed in a very kind manner and said briskly, 'And now, my dear, we will have some breakfast. Emma will have it ready for us. Fish-cakes – and do you prefer tea or coffee?'</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'Oh, Miss Silver, I couldn't!'</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Miss Silver was putting the knitting away in a flowered chintz bag. She said with great firmness, 'Indeed you can, my dear. And you will feel a great deal better when you have had something to eat. Emotion is extremely exhausting, and Emma makes very nice fish-cakes. And perhaps you would like to wash your face.'</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>Ivory Dagger</i> (1953)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Patricia Wentworth </span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Note: I love Miss Silver - the knitting, the cough*, the spinster saved from poverty by her own wits. This is quite a weak entry in the Miss Silver canon, mostly because the heroine-victim (not the young lady above) is all pale and spineless and totally without the spirit to rescue herself. </span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">* From the preface to <i>Catherine Wheel</i>: "To those readers who have so kindly concerned themselves about Miss Silver’s health. Her occasional slight cough is merely a means of self-expression. It does not indicate any bronchial affection. She enjoys excellent health. P.W."</span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-85931512538117240242015-04-18T06:00:00.000+09:302015-04-18T06:00:02.269+09:30it was 'better' to be eating - it gave one something to do<blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The organization where Letty and Marcia worked regarded it as a duty to provide some kind of a retirement party for them, when the time came for them to give up working. Their status as ageing unskilled women did not entitle them to an evening party, but it was felt that a lunchtime gathering, leading only to more than usual drowsiness in the afternoon, would be entirely appropriate. The other advantage of a lunchtime party was that only medium Cyprus sherry need be provided, whereas the evening called for more exotic and expensive drinks, wines and even the occasional carefully concealed bottle of whisky or gin – 'the hard stuff', as Norman called it, in his bitterness at being denied access to it. Also at lunchtime sandwiches could be eaten, so that there was no need to have lunch and it was felt by some that at a time like this it was 'better' to be eating – it gave one something to do.
</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Barbara Pym</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>Quartet in Autumn</i> (1977)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I wrote a little about why I liked this book a lot <a href="http://bookforgetter.blogspot.com.au/2013/06/review-barbara-pym-reading-week.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-33123408472213395612015-03-27T06:00:00.000+10:302015-03-27T06:00:00.651+10:30Livers of fat geese. There's a pie!<br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"Now, look here!" he said. "In this paper," which was nicely folded, "is a piece of the best plum-cake that can be got for money — sugar on the outside an inch thick, like fat on mutton chops. Here's a little pie (a gem this is, both for size and quality), made in France. And what do you suppose it's made of? Livers of fat geese. There's a pie! Now let's see you eat 'em."</span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"Thank you, sir," I replied; "thank you very much indeed, but I hope you won't be offended — they are too rich for me."</span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"Floored again!" said the gentleman, which I didn't at all understand, and threw them both out of window.
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>Bleak House</i> (1853) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Charles Dickens</span></div>
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skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-36073181116084302482015-02-09T06:00:00.000+10:302015-02-09T06:00:01.429+10:30the inordinate appetite of all poor relations<blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Lord Lionel being an advocate of what he considered a neat, plain dinner, only two courses were served at Sale Park when the family dined alone. The first of these consisted of a tureen of turtle, removed with fish, which was in its turn removed with a haunch of venison. Several side-dishes, such as pork cutlets with Rober sauce, larded fillets of beef, tenderones of veal and truffles, and a braised ham, graced the board, but since his lordship was a moderate trencherman, and the Duke had a notoriously small appetite, the only person who did justice to the spread was Miss Scamblesby, who had (so his lordship had more than once remarked to his nephew) the inordinate appetite of all poor relations.
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Georgette Heyer </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>The Foundling</i> (1948)</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Not a particularly memorable Heyer, but the food sounds good. </span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Maybe skip the turtle (<a href="http://theappendix.net/issues/2013/10/the-politics-of-the-turtle-feast">fascinating article here</a>)? </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">On Rober Sauce: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jSnbD4sMYjU/VMMfcW8dd_I/AAAAAAAADZQ/bMEtcXzYxPs/s1600/robersauce.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jSnbD4sMYjU/VMMfcW8dd_I/AAAAAAAADZQ/bMEtcXzYxPs/s320/robersauce.JPG" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">(<i>A Complete System of Cookery, on a Plan Entirely New, Consisting of Every Thing that is Requisite for Cooks to Know in the Kitchen Business: Containing Bills of Fare for Every Day in the Year, and Directions to Dress Each Dish; Being One Year's Work at the Marquis of Buckingham's from the 1st of January to the 31st of December, 1805</i> by John Simpson, via <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books?id=oOIqAAAAYAAJ&dq=rober+sauce&source=gbs_navlinks_s">googlebooks</a>)</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The same book gives a recipe for "tenderones of veal": </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F17D_GF9TCs/VMMhY9FKJrI/AAAAAAAADZY/KZyBGnY7Vso/s1600/tenderones1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F17D_GF9TCs/VMMhY9FKJrI/AAAAAAAADZY/KZyBGnY7Vso/s1600/tenderones1.JPG" height="220" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GMXXGORkFVA/VMMhaR1JUQI/AAAAAAAADZg/TcrpkxhgtmQ/s1600/tenderones2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GMXXGORkFVA/VMMhaR1JUQI/AAAAAAAADZg/TcrpkxhgtmQ/s1600/tenderones2.JPG" height="79" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> </span>skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-56074198153622077052015-01-26T06:00:00.000+10:302015-01-26T06:00:00.619+10:30tens of thousands of Aussie pies<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">For the first half of the 1900s only fish and chips challenged the pie as the natural choice for Australians bent on instant gratification of their hunger pangs. In fact, when they opened Parliament House in Canberra in 1926 the organisers decided to feed the multitudes with tens of thousands of Aussie pies. Unfortunately, they grossly over-estimated the number of visitors who would flock to the heart of new democracy. The great earth movers employed to lay the foundations of Parliament House had to be revved up again to bury thousands of left-over pies. The place of burial is said to be beneath the present Treasury Building so in more ways than one the great Aussie pie lies at the foundation of the country's economic health.
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Robert Macklin (2012)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The Great Australian Pie: a history and culinary adventure</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I discussed this book <a href="http://bookforgetter.blogspot.com.au/2013/02/review-australian-pie.html">here</a>.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">See also the <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/australia-food-blog/2014/may/07/meat-pie-a-great-australian-dish">Guardian</a> on the Australian pie.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Happy Australia Day!</span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-21498664526162833352015-01-19T06:00:00.000+10:302015-01-19T06:00:01.574+10:30slipping off a piece of toast<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Her Serene Highness made one of her characteristic exits, which Lady Caroline declared always reminded her of a scrambled egg slipping off a piece of toast.
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saki">Saki</a>' (H. H. Munro) </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>The Unbearable Bassington</i> (1912)
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I can't believe I've never reviewed any Saki. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Wonderful short stories ('Tobermory', the talking cat!) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">and this rather odd novel (also <a href="http://readingfeeding.blogspot.com.au/2014/11/small-cress-sandwiches.html">here</a>). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">See reviews by <a href="http://desperatereader.blogspot.com.au/2011/04/unbearable-bassington-saki-h-h-munro.html">desperate reader</a>, <a href="http://stuck-in-a-book.blogspot.com.au/2011/04/unbearable.html">stuck in a book</a>, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">& <a href="http://preferreading.blogspot.com.au/2011/04/unbearable-bassington-saki.html">i prefer reading</a>.
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><a href="https://greatwarfiction.wordpress.com/2015/01/17/register-of-effects-julian-grenfell-edward-thomas-saki/">Poor Saki</a>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Really <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saki">wikipedia</a> does not do him justice...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bh0czp9zrNg/VLujOJY-QtI/AAAAAAAADZA/9Uh07pIMIKQ/s1600/saki.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bh0czp9zrNg/VLujOJY-QtI/AAAAAAAADZA/9Uh07pIMIKQ/s320/saki.JPG" /></a>
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-89069023666583197212014-12-25T06:00:00.000+10:302014-12-25T06:00:01.132+10:30DON'T EAT NONE OF THE PLUM PUDDING.<br />
<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"DON'T EAT NONE OF THE PLUM PUDDING.<br /> ONE AS WISHES YOU WELL."
</span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Agatha Christie </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding' (1960)
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0U7jHfLrHW0/VJqh8JMTRtI/AAAAAAAADVw/-Q7JXLzcmV8/s1600/beaton-pudding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0U7jHfLrHW0/VJqh8JMTRtI/AAAAAAAADVw/-Q7JXLzcmV8/s1600/beaton-pudding.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: xx-small;">(<a href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/63050463504947787/" target="_blank">source</a>)</span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-38586004188603693722014-12-19T06:00:00.000+10:302014-12-19T06:00:01.431+10:30an old box of wedding cake.. with a burning brandy sauce<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">It was she who suddenly remembered that it was Christmas day. "And this is our Christmas dinner," observed McVay regretfully. "Oh, no," returned the girl, "this is luncheon. I'll cook your dinner. You'll see."</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">...</span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">
</span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">She proved herself infinitely more capable than the two men had been, discovering tins of butter and soup and sardines, a package of hominy, apples and potatoes in the cellar, and an old box of wedding cake, which, with a burning brandy sauce, she declared would serve very well for plum-pudding.
</span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">...they presently sat down to their Christmas dinner, of which they all expressed themselves as inordinately proud. There was canned soup, and sardines and toasted biscuits, canned corned beef, potatoes and fried hominy, bacon and a potato salad, a bottle of champagne, and finally the wedding cake.</span></blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Alice Duer Miller </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>The Burglar and the Blizzard</i> (?1914)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I really enjoyed her <i style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">Come Out of the Kitchen</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">(1916) which I <a href="http://bookforgetter.blogspot.com.au/2014/01/misc-2013-in-review.html" target="_blank">described</a> last year as: "</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21.5599994659424px; text-align: justify;">Another lost classic (rediscovered by </span><a href="https://fleurfisher.wordpress.com/2013/10/29/come-out-of-the-kitchen-by-alice-duer-miller/" target="_blank">fleur in her world</a><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21.5599994659424px; text-align: justify;">): a rich young man rents a house from an impoverished family, only to discover a host of servant problems - such as the world's prettiest cook.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">"</span></span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-40386539330229662732014-12-14T12:02:00.001+10:302014-12-14T12:02:26.947+10:30buried with a stake of holly through his heart<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">If I could work my will," said Scrooge indignantly, "every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!"
</span></blockquote>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Charles Dickens </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Christmas_Carol" target="_blank">A Christmas Carol</a></i> (1843)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jCeOVUx1GhU/VIznx2PM3FI/AAAAAAAADVQ/El3GUFt6Sl8/s1600/800px-Charles_Dickens-A_Christmas_Carol-Title_page-First_edition_1843.jpg" imageanchor="1"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jCeOVUx1GhU/VIznx2PM3FI/AAAAAAAADVQ/El3GUFt6Sl8/s320/800px-Charles_Dickens-A_Christmas_Carol-Title_page-First_edition_1843.jpg" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">(<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Christmas_Carol#mediaviewer/File:Charles_Dickens-A_Christmas_Carol-Title_page-First_edition_1843.jpg" target="_blank">source</a>)</span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-30890386555961699802014-11-27T06:30:00.000+10:302014-12-03T16:44:39.028+10:30fillet de sole à la Jeanette<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'You have been to the Riviera before, Georges?' said Poirot to his valet the following morning. George was an intensely English, rather wooden-faced individual.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'Yes, sir. I was here two years ago when I was in the service of Lord Edward Frampton.'</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'And today,' murmured his master, 'you are here with Hercule Poirot. How one mounts in the world!'</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The valet made no reply to this observation. After a suitable pause he asked:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'The brown lounge suit, sir? The wind is somewhat chilly today.'</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'There is a grease spot on the waistcoat,' objected Poirot. 'A <i>morceau </i>of <i>Fillet de sole à la Jeanette</i> alighted there when I was lunching at the Ritz last Tuesday.'</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'There is no spot there now, sir,' said George reproachfully. 'I have removed it.'</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'Très bien!' said Poirot. 'I am pleased with you, Georges.'</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'Thank you, sir.'
</span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Agatha Christie</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>The Mystery of the Blue Train</i> (1928)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">This book offers one of <a href="http://bookforgetter.blogspot.com.au/2012/04/review-blue-train.html" target="_blank">my favourite clichés</a>.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Tommy also eats sole </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; text-align: justify;">à</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> la Jeanette in <i>The Secret Adversary</i>. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Was it a Christie invention?</span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-73756286179368406112014-11-18T06:30:00.000+10:302014-11-18T06:30:05.213+10:30small cress sandwiches<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">In her brother Henry, who sat eating small cress sandwiches as solemnly as though they had been ordained in some immemorial Book of Observances, fate had been undisguisedly kind to her. He might so easily have married some pretty helpless little woman, and lived at Notting Hill Gate, and been the father of a long string of pale, clever useless children, who would have had birthdays and the sort of illnesses that one is expected to send grapes to, and who would have painted fatuous objects in a South Kensington manner as Christmas offerings to an aunt whose cubic space for lumber was limited. Instead of committing these unbrotherly actions, which are so frequent in family life that they might almost be called brotherly, Henry had married a woman who had both money and a sense of repose, and their one child had the brilliant virtue of never saying anything which even its parents could consider worth repeating. Then he had gone into Parliament, possibly with the idea of making his home life seem less dull; at any rate it redeemed his career from insignificance, for no man whose death can produce the item "another by-election" on the news posters can be wholly a nonentity.
</span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Saki [H. H. Munro]</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>The Unbearable Bassington</i> (1912)</span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-41832560312562529092014-11-09T06:30:00.000+10:302014-11-09T06:30:01.647+10:30the liver deliquesced<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">It was the porcelain spoons, five of them. Goldilocks waited, her unused hand tucked, in accordance with its training, into the small of her back, as if it were the rule that all non-serving parts of her body must be tidied deferentially from view. Perhaps it was.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Michael peered at the lumps, heat-edged with brown, in their drip of soup.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'What are they?' he asked.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'Foie gras, sautéed in oloroso sherry.'</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'Mmm, foie gras,' he enthused, making a hash of the r.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">He picked up one of the spoons and tipped it into his mouth. The liver deliquesced.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'Wow, that's fabulous!' He nodded with vigorous sincerity, and a gentle swirly drunken feeling lingered in the movement's echo. He closed his eyes to steady himself.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">When he opened them, Goldilocks had gone.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">He still held his phone in one hand, and the spoon in the other. The spoon went in his pocket.
</span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Leo Benedictus</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>The Afterparty</i> (2011)</span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-29703275147464787622014-10-27T06:30:00.000+10:302014-10-27T06:30:02.818+10:30noted for her pickle recipes<blockquote>
<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Second Cousin Sarah Taylor, with her great, pale, expressionless eyes, who was noted for the variety of her pickle recipes and for nothing else. So afraid of saying something indiscreet that she never said anything worth listening to. So proper that she blushed when she saw the advertisement picture of a corset and had put a dress on her Venus de Milo statuette which made it look "real tasty."</span></div>
</blockquote>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">L. M. Montgomery</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>The Blue Castle</i> (1926)
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><a href="http://bookforgetter.blogspot.com.au/2011/12/review-blue-castle.html" target="_blank">What a book</a>. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-20510133867787690352014-10-18T06:30:00.000+10:302014-10-18T06:30:00.624+10:30a glass of milk and a bun<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">If Henry hadn't been determined to quarrel he would have taken her out to lunch first, and now she would have to go and have a glass of milk and a bun in a creamery with a lot of other women who were having buns and milk, or Bovril, or milk with a dash of coffee, or a nice cup of tea. It was a most frightfully depressing thought, because one bun was going to make very little impression on her hunger, and she certainly couldn't afford any more.
</span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Patricia Wentworth</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>The Case is Closed</i> (1937)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Not my favourite Wentworth - that is perhaps</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> <i><a href="http://bookforgetter.blogspot.com.au/2011/08/review-case-of-william-smith.html" target="_blank">The Case of William Smith</a></i> or <i>Lonesome Road?</i></span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-8034227398371154892014-10-09T06:30:00.000+10:302014-10-09T06:30:02.716+10:30she always felt cheerier at breakfast<blockquote>
<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'How can you eat that sawdust, Father?' she inquired, beginning on eggs and bacon and speaking cheerfully because it was a fine morning and only ten minutes past nine; and somehow, at the beginning of every new day, there was always a chance that this one might be different from all the rest. Something might happen; and then everything would be jollier all round.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Madge did not see clearly into her feelings; she only knew that she always felt cheerier at breakfast than at tea.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">...</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'What time did you say Viola's train gets in?' Tina asked her mother; she sometimes found the Wither silences unendurable.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'Half-past twelve, dear.'</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'Just in nice time for lunch.'</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'Yes.'</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'You know perfectly well that Viola's train gets in at half-past twelve,' intoned Mr Wither slowly, raising his eyelids to look at Tina, 'so why ask your mother? You talk for the sake of talking, it's a silly habit.' He slowly looked down again at his little bowl of mushy cereal.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">'I'd forgotten,' said Tina. She continued vivaciously, at the silence. 'Don't you loathe getting to a place before twelve o'clock, Madge – too late for breakfast and too early for lunch?'</span></div>
</blockquote>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Stella Gibbons</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>Nightingale Wood</i> (1938)</span></div>
</div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-76577933256676389922014-09-27T06:30:00.000+09:302014-09-27T06:30:00.817+09:30cold fish au porto<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">He ordered a meal that a shopgirl out on the spree might choose – cold fish <i>au porto</i>, a roast bird, and a piping hot soufflé which concealed in its innards a red ice, sharp on the tongue.
</span></blockquote>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Colette</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>Chéri </i>(1920)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">More on Chéri's inner coldness <a href="http://bookforgetter.blogspot.com.au/2011/07/review-paris-in-july-cheri.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-19560847998309244812014-09-18T06:30:00.002+09:302014-09-18T06:30:01.797+09:30red mullet, done somehow with lemons<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">The waiters hovered beside us, the courses came, delicious and appetizing, and the empty plates vanished as if by magic. I remember red mullet, done somehow with lemons, and a succulent golden-brown fowl bursting with truffles and flanked by tiny peas, then a froth of ice and whipped cream dashed with kirsch, and the fine smooth caress of the wine through it all. Then, finally, apricots and big black grapes, and coffee. The waiter removed the little silver filtres, and vanished, leaving us alone in our alcove. The liqueur brandy was swimming in its own fragrance in the enormous iridescent glasses, and for a moment I watched it idly, enjoying its rich smooth gleam, then I leaned back against the cushions and looked about me with the eyes of a patient who has just woken from the first long natural sleep after an anaesthetic. Where before the colours had been blurred and heightened, and the outlines undefined, proportions unstable, and sounds hollow and wavering, now the focus had shifted sharply, and drawn the bright little restaurant into sharp dramatic outline.
</span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Mary Stewart</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>Madam, Will You Talk?</i> (1954)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">On the Mary Stewart <a href="http://bookforgetter.blogspot.com.au/2011/10/review-touch-not-cat.html" target="_blank">formula</a>.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CxGO2X-QOAg/U93JHoqJlUI/AAAAAAAADNA/jc4fdNjsvdw/s1600/Mary-Stewart-Week-Badge-2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CxGO2X-QOAg/U93JHoqJlUI/AAAAAAAADNA/jc4fdNjsvdw/s1600/Mary-Stewart-Week-Badge-2014.jpg" height="320" width="234" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Mary Stewart Reading Week, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">hosted by <a href="http://www.gudrunstights.com/" target="_blank">Gudrun's Tights</a></span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-28499572884033217992014-09-09T06:30:00.000+09:302014-09-09T06:30:02.421+09:30diluting the milk<blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">He didn't know – he couldn't possibly have known – that in spite of all her economies, in spite of stinting and scraping, of eschewing meat, and eating margarine instead of butter, and diluting the milk, and buying the very cheapest tea that floated like dust on the top of your cup, Miss Buncle's account at the bank was overdrawn by seven pounds fifteen shillings and would soon have been overdrawn by more; for the dividends, which had been steadily decreasing, had now practically ceased. There were tears in Miss Buncle's eyes as she signed the receipt and folded up the amazing note. Fancy that tiny piece of paper representing so much! It really was rather astonishing (when you come to think of it) what that tiny piece of paper represented – far more than a hundred sovereigns (although in modern finance less). It represented food and drink to Barbara Buncle, and, perhaps, a new winter coat and hat; but, above all, freedom from that awful nightmare of worry, and sleep, and a quiet mind.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">D. E. Stevenson</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>Miss Buncle's Book</i> (1934)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Some thoughts <a href="http://bookforgetter.blogspot.com.au/2012/05/review-miss-buncles-book.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-51219687087219129512014-08-27T06:30:00.000+09:302014-08-27T06:30:01.948+09:30"This may taste awful..."<blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Unable to find spinach at the market, I'd bought chicory instead; it, too, was horrid. We ate the lunch with painful politeness and avoided discussing its taste. I made sure not to apologize for it. This was a rule of mine. I don't believe in twisting yourself into knots of excuses and explanations over the food you make. When one's hostess starts in with self-deprecations such as "Oh, I don't know how to cook...," or "Poor little me...," or "This may taste awful...," it is so dreadful to have to reassure her that everything is delicious and fine, whether it is or not. Besides, such admissions only draw attention to one's shortcomings (or self-perceived shortcomings), and make the other person think, "Yes, you're right, this really is an awful meal!" Maybe the cat has fallen into the stew, or the lettuce has frozen, or the cake has collapsed—eh bien, tant pis! Usually one's cooking is better than one thinks it is. And if the food is truly vile, as my ersatz eggs Florentine surely were, then the cook must simply grit her teeth and bear it with a smile — and learn from her mistakes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Julia Child</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>My Life in France</i> (2006)
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">More delicious quotations <a href="http://bookforgetter.blogspot.com.au/2012/07/review-my-life-in-france.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-14252636122871099932014-08-18T06:30:00.000+09:302014-08-18T06:30:02.813+09:30a neat little dinner<blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">He heaved a deep sigh, which made the Cumberland corset creak alarmingly; but almost immediately grew more cheerful, as he disclosed to Kit that his object in coming to Hill Street was to beg him to bring his mama to a little dinner-party which he was planning to hold at the Clarendon Hotel, before he retired to Brighton for the summer months. ‘They have a way of cooking semelles of carp which is better than anything my Alphonse can do,’ he said impressively. ‘You cut your carp into large collops, you know, and in a stew-pan you put butter, chopped shallots, thyme, parsley, mushrooms, and pepper and salt, of course – anyone knows that! But at the Clarendon something else is added, and devilish good it is, though I haven’t <i>yet</i> discovered what it may be. It is <i>not</i> sorrel, for I desired Alphonse to try that, and it was not the same thing at all. I wonder if it might be just a touch of chervil, and perhaps one or two tarragon-leaves?’ He slewed round to smile fondly upon Lady Denville. ‘<i>You</i> will know, I daresay, my pretty! I thought I would have it removed with a fillet of veal. We must have quails: that goes without saying – and ducklings; and nothing beside except a few larded sweetbreads, and a raised pie. And for the second course just a green goose, with cauliflowers and French beans and peas, for I know you don’t care for large dinners. So I shall add only a dressed lobster, and some asparagus, and a few jellies and creams, and a basket of pastries for you to nibble at. That,’ he said, beaming upon his prospective guests, ‘is my notion of a neat little dinner.’</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Georgette Heyer</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>False Colours</i> (1963, set in 1817)
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skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348710338817895860.post-69041000091988123342014-08-09T06:30:00.000+09:302014-08-09T06:30:00.994+09:30golden brown with a few little burned parts<blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I would like to ask her what a person who is seven months pregnant is supposed to do when her husband turns out to be in love with someone else, but the truth is she probably wouldn't have been much help. Even in the old days, my mother was a washout at hard-core mothering; what she was good at were clever remarks that made you feel immensely sophisticated and adult and, if you thought about it at all, foolish for having wanted anything so mundane as some actual nurturing. Had I been able to talk to her at this moment of crisis, she would probably have said something fabulously brittle like 'Take notes.' Then she would have gone into the kitchen and toasted almonds. You melt some butter in a frying pan, add whole blanched almonds, and sauté until they’re golden brown with a few little burned parts. Drain lightly and salt and eat with a nice stiff drink. 'Men are little boys,' she would have said as she lifted her glass. 'Don’t stir or you’ll bruise the ice cubes.'</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Nora Ephron </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>Heartburn </i>(1983)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I wrote about this delicious book <a href="http://bookforgetter.blogspot.com.au/2013/02/review-heartburn.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></div>
skiourophilehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08200877834536477400noreply@blogger.com0