Friends who drink coffee together, stay together

Well, well, well, how are you dear friends? After a brief hiatus due to long-haul flights and ever changing time zones we are back! And back with a  vengeance might we add. We knew we had to plan something extra special for our return post, and that, we did.

After some serious and stealthy planning on Ale's part, the three of us returned to our natural habitat - drinking coffee in a café together, almost... Clever Ale managed to buy both myself and Philly Willy (apologies for the nick name Philippa) a coffee in the countries he knew we would be in; Philippa's in NYC of course, and mine in beautiful Oslo, where I missed my dearest Ale by the skin of his teeth (roughly two days in non metaphorical terms). Ale is currently enjoying the cultural and foodie delights of Vietnam on his travels, but only after popping to America and Norway to fix his friends up with a caffeine hit - some serious competition now for the next grand gesture of friendship within this threesome...

Below is each of our personal accounts of the country-spanning-coffee-rendez-vous!

Ale

Oh Norway, home of beautiful fjords, Vikings, reindeers, the midnight sun and (allegedly) trolls. Norway, Norway, Norway, you beautiful, overly expensive Scandinavian country.

I recently spent 20h in its capital, Oslo, and I somehow made sure to miss every single one of the things mentioned above. The reason why my trip there was so short? I flew there from Dublin to catch a flight to Thailand. Super random, right? Well, it turns out that besides selling falafels for NOK100 (around €12), Norway is also home of Norwegian Airlines and its super cheap flights to the rest of the world.

I booked my flight to Oslo without knowing that, coincidentally, Emma was also going there on a skiing trip. Unfortunately she would only arrive a day after I had already left. It didn't seem fair that we would be on the same city and miss each other by a matter of only a couple of days. To compensate, I decided to prepare a little surprise.

I spent most of my time there snapping pictures of every building that I could (gotta please my Instagram followers) and searching for places to have a decent bite and a cup of coffee that wouldn't break the bank. After walking for one and a half minutes (I'm the worst person when I'm hungry, I completely loose my ability to make good decisions and literally will stop in the first place that serves food without coriander in it), I managed to find a cute little place to put in practice the second part of my plan before I headed to the Far East. You can read all about it in the girl's tales about how great of a friend I am!

Ale's current position in Kuang Si Waterfall - I'll take a coffee instead thanks..

Emma

Shlurp, shlurp, shluuurp. That was the sound of me drinking my delicious (and free!) coffee in one of the darn right coolest cafes in Oslo (have bought beans and a book from the coffee owner to testify to this fact.) All thanks to the wonderful, bearded and Brazilian beauty that is our Ale.

Now, not only is consuming free beverages a delightful pastime, but consuming a free beverage in Oslo is a little bit more special. Why, you may ask. Well, let me tell you a little Norwegian secret. Norway is BLOODY EXPENSIVE. A free coffee saved me approximately half of my college fees. Well, sliiight exaggeration, but the point needs to be taken seriously. Norway is not a place for the euro-saver youths of today. Sure, whilst trying to steal free wifi in Mcds over there, the cheapest thing on the menu was 35NOK, that's a mere €4 for half an hour of wifi. Sign me up! Not.

Besides the expense of the trip, which I realise I have harped on about for half of this post (feelings are feelings, and if I feel strongly about something you must read about it.) Norway is b-e-a-u-tiful! I spent about 4 days there travelling from the west coast of Bergen (original capital of the country, there ya go now) to Oslo (current capital, but sure you knew that..). I biked, boated, trained and hiked from coast to coast all in the pouring rain so common to the Scandinavian Isles, only to fall madly in love with the country and with its people. They speak better English than me! Intelligent folk up there. Seriously though, if anyone ever wants to go to Norway, pleeease let me know as I will sell everything I own just to afford the weekend over there. I love it!

Also, a quick end note and correction to Ale's post - I was not in fact skiing in Norway, that was for my next trip to the Czech Republic which my boyfriend planned as a 'surprise' for my birthday. Some fun facts about the Czech Republic before I leave you:

1) The Czech Republic is about a gazillion times cheaper than Norway, we lived like kings

2) The people of the Czech Republic do not have as high a proficiency of English speaking as the Norwegians

3) Taken both former points into consideration, I spent my 22nd birthday, in the middle of nowhere on a snowy mountain in the Czech Republic (the more 'middle-of-nowhere' you go, the cheaper it gets) attempting to learn to snowboard, with an instructor that didn't speak English surrounded by about 1000 inhabitants of the town, who also spoke no word of English. One word, hilarious.

Ale's present #1

Philippa

Not only did Ale prepare a surprise for Emma but the thoughtful and chivalrous stede did the same for his NY counterpart (me).
On the day of his departure from New York, with tears in his eyes (and yeah, tears in mine too, I guess) he handed me an envelope with a short message scribed on the front : don't open until the 27th of February. It took all my willpower not to tear it open on the spot. The date came around and alas, inside I found another cryptic message : go to your favourite coffee shop where you will find a coffee waiting for you which is on me. You're right,this one is pretty self explanatory. One thing troubled my mind however : how did he pull off this elaborate ruse when I was with him every waking second of his trip here? Or so I thought. Some of you may be aware,  and some not so much,  of the fact that I need to pee approximately 90% of the time. So Ale aka Mr. Stealth waited until the inevitable opportunity arose and set up this glorious surprise so that all three of us could share a cup of coffee in three completely different places on earth, yet again proving two theorems:
1) He is the world's greatest (sorry, R Kelly)
2) We are always only ever...A Mouthful Apart.

Ale's present #2

The Biggest Apple

not so funny pizza

funny pizza 

This post is brought to you with tiredness in our bones, pizza in our tums and the dregs of a hangover seeping from our pores.
What should you take from that sentence? Pizza. Always take pizza.
Please excuse the momentary lapse in our blogging over the past week. ALE CAME TO NEW YORK so we've been caught up in each others company and the spontaneity of this city. Ah bless.  Let us give you a brief rundown on what's been happnan, what we've discovered,who we've met, and obviously what we've been eating!

What we've discovered:

1) People can be rude:
We went to a coffee shop in bushwick and asked, what turned out to be an absolute feckin' bitch, if we could use the seat she had her tacky bag on and she point blank refused to hand it over saying that her bag was actually really cosy on it. Shocked, appalled and without somewhere to put our bum bums so we were.
2) Sometimes it is ok to laugh at people:
Like people who don't give you chairs in busy coffee shops. You're not cool. You're rude. We've got it out of our system now and we're back to our friendly, loving, non-grudge-holding-stand-up-citizen selves. 

3) When going to a museum don't show up 15 minutes before it's closing time. You cannot whizz around the MET in 15 minutes. Tried and tested by yours truly.
4) Ice is slippy. Ale's arse has the bruises to prove it.
5) Canadian Bacon is hilarious. Especially at 4am in the morning.
6) Many/most of you probably know what the term 'All day' means when used in a restaurant.  We didn't.  So when the barista in a coffee shop said 4 coffees all day we naturally thought it meant we had free refills all day. Such silly billys.
If you don't know what it means you should Google it. We're still unsure how to explain it lucidly even though it is a very simple concept and one that we should have grasped after the third time it was explained to us.
7) Carrie Bradshaw's, Will and Grace's and Monica Geller's apartments are all very underwhelming in the dark.
8) How much does a pood weigh? Asked at Trivia night. No surprise that we didn't know the answer and that we didn't win.

9) Always double check the name of your subway stop before getting on to avoid finding yourself in the middle of Harlem instead of the Guggenheim Museum.

10) The Lorimer stop on the subway sounds suspiciously similar to Laura Moore (Philippa's sister)...which we obviously brought up everytime we passed it.

11) It's NOT okay to scream loudly at your friend at the bar for refusing a 6th shot of vodka, as one New Yorker will remind you.

12) Being served pancakes with whipped cream AND a side of bacon in a 50's looking diner by a real sassy waitress after a night out is everything Ale imagined it would be and more.

13) Always tip. Even if there's no chicken in your Chicken Taco.

14) Eggs on pizza. Always and forever.

Who we've met (more like who we haven't met):
1) HONY. Anyday now, he's BOUND to track us down, right?

2) Karen Walker (I've only just learned she's not a real human being)

What we've been eating:
1) An extravagant lobster roll at The Chelsea Market.
2) A pastrami, cheddar and apricot jam sandwich at The Chelsea Market.

3) Falafel Sandwiches with extra hummus- so cheap and oh so cheerful!
4) Guanciale and Egg Pizza at Roberta's.
5) Tallegio and Mashed Potato Pizza at Roberta's.
6) Lil Stinker Pizza with added capers and egg at Roberta's
7) Burritos,  burritos, and more burritos.
7) Egg's Neptune with hash browns at Kellogg's diner.
8) Egg's Benedict with sweet potato fries at Kellogg's diner.
9) Portobello Mushroom burger with goat cheese and sweet potato fries at...Kellogg's diner.
10) Stacks and more stacks of the most delicious pancakes smothered in Maple Syrup at...(you can probably guess it at this point) Kellogg's diner.
YES, we went to Kellogg's diner 4 times in 36 hours. And YES,  we would do it all again.

What we've been drinking:

1) Delicious coffee at Little Skips

2) Amazing coffee at Blue Bottle

3) Buckets of coffee at Kellogg's diner

4) Beer, beer, beer at various locations (Ale's favourite was one that tasted like palm hearts after a shot of whiskey - if you've never had palm hearts or don't even know what they are: please go find out, life will be better)

always ask your server for a blurry picture

friendship is always more beautiful in New York

that's apparently what you do here

Harlem, New York

burger on face > burger in mouth

"this is not what I ordered"

immediatly after this picture Ale fell on the ice

the F.R.I.E.N.D.S. building

Grace Adler Design's

our best shot

not in the picture: side of bacon and toast

After a week of walking this WONDERFUL city we are EXHAUSTED and satiated and full of plans for the future. Central Park, The Guggenheim,  The Met, MoMa, Grand Central Station, New York City Public Library,The Brooklyn Bridge, Times Square,  Washington Square Park, The High Line and especially Kellogg's Diner- YOU'VE ALL BEEN FABULOUS. 

The next chapter in our journey: OLSO AND SOUTHEAST ASIA.
Belt on, table up, windows open aaaaaand we have lift off!
Pip, Ale and Emma 

(Collectively known as Palema)

Goodbye processed yumminess, It was a good ride...

So it's the end of January and I have been the most stereotypical version of any female in the New Year - I went on a health kick. All I am now is a January cliché.... AND I LOVE IT. Unlike my fun-loving counterpart Philippa, who is living up the New Year partay shtyle with her January Juice containing Champagne, I have chosen to be clean and boring (but it doesn't have to be is what I'm slowly discovering).  My new roommate from Budapest (woohoo, free apartment when I visit) is a real slave to the clean eating trade. She has introduced me to so much. I thought that because I was going clean in the New Year that it would only be for a short period of time to shed those xmas fatty blues and put my love of cooking and food aside with it. This is just not, not and NOT the case. There are so many amazing clean eating blogs out there to get inspired from! So many new ideas to work with. And soooo many new ingredients to shovel into your face. My new favourite, almond butter!!!! (4 exclamation marks because this thing is OHMYDEARHOLYMOLYFANTASTIC!)



who needs friends

So I know I sound all preachy and holier than thou with my new clean eating lifestyle, but let me tell you, I have struggled. Oh have I. This guy I know (i.e. my boyfriend) came to visit me in the land of the Riviera recently and I was all "I only eat this now" and "Do you even know what you're putting into your body right now" etc. etc. During my self affirming rants about the goodness of coconut oil in your food AND on your face I decided to take him to have the best croissant in Nice. Now, as I write that sentence I understand IT MAKES NO SENSE. Why did I choose to do that? Nevertheless, I did. And so I began to fully understand what it would feel like to be in Hell. The interaction after be bought the croissant went a little like this:
 
Boyfriend: Jesus, this is feckin' delicious
 
Crying on the inside Emma: Haha, oh yeah, looks class, yeah, I might have a handful of berries
 
Boyfriend: It's like crunchy on the outside and soooo buttery on the inside
 
Dying on the inside Emma: BUTTER? Can I smell it...?
 
It went on like this for a little while, it was painful. But I prevailed (okay...I had the end of the croissant...literally smaller than my thumb so it was fiiine...) Anyway, moving on from my shortcomings when it comes to buttery pastries.
 
This month is Juicin' and Jammin' It in January and I am making a yummmmy smoothie pudding clean dessert type of thing. It was originally meant to be a green smoothie, but as only two supermarkets in Nice have fresh spinach and I had no spare change to get the tram to either of these, I improvised...well not so much as improvising, rather I just left the spinach out. Sure look.
 
As I said, it was meant to be a green smoothie...which changed to a normal clean smoothie...and then when the final product came out I decided this would be a lovely pudding like dessert also. So, digest it as you wish, as a smoothie or a pudding... doesn't matter it's still deliiish and everything in it is clean clean clean.
 

Smoothie/Pudding Ingredients

 



Now, what we have here is a handful or two of frozen berries, a tablespoon of almond butter, chia seeds, bee pollen (new to this one...but heard it just really good for you, right so!), 3 medjool dates, 1 pot of non fat plain yogurt and a realllly ripe brown banana (freeze the banana beforehand for extra creaminess...probs better for the pudding option.)

how brown is your banana?

 

Smoothie/Pudding Steps

 

Step 1: Throw everything in a blender, and blend

 

Step 2: There are no more steps

I lied... Step 3: Pour in fancy glasses and sprinkle with chia seeds and pollen (careful on the pollen though, it does weird things to your tummy if you're not used to it I'm told, I guess I'll keep ya'll posted on this....)

***CAUTION*** If you do not invest in a good blender, it will crack under the pressure (literally) and look like it pooed out your delicious smoothie.

how rude

Good luck to all of you on your clean eating ventures, should you choose to join us folk. If not, good luck to you and please eat extra butter for me. I'm off to eat a stick of celery now.

















Delusional Dusk

Hi gang!

With 2015 in full swing we reignite our blogging torch with a fresh theme and culinary challenge for this month. We call it Juicin' and Jammin' in January. Our challenge is going to be to find the most bizarrre/strangest shaped fruit or vegetable and make juice or a preserve from it AND pick a song (or jam, if you will) that best describes said juice/preserve. Philippa is kickstarting this month with her post and her sincerest apologies for the amount of time it has taken her to gather her thoughts and actually string a few simple sentences together. Feast your eyes on her post below. 

Ah January, we meet again, old buddy old pal. January,  January,  January.  Christmas day seems like many moons ago at this stage, a distant cry, a hazy memory. It was a low key day here in New York. A light breakfast of poached eggs and salmon and buckets of coffee (top tip: give me coffee in the morning or I will die). We watched movies and cooked food (accidentally left it so late to order a turkey that we ended up with a 14lb bird...which I should point out we quickly finished cause we're animals), nattered (house full of 4 girls), skyped home to see just how much they were missing us (surprised they got through the day if I'm being honest...not really though. They were probably thankful the resident klutz wasn't there- I once broke a guitar that Santa left for my sister Paige a mere 2 hours after she had opened it. Soz.) Before hitting the hay we went down to our 'stoop' and asked an innocent passerby to take a picture of us so we could remember our first Christmas away from home. Say cheese.
Speaking of cheese, I am learning a shit ton in my job. It's great. The cheese is great. The people I work with are great. You're great for having read this far. Please do continue. Where was I?
Ah yes, January. January, January, January. Typically a time marked with hopeful promises of change, a chance for new beginnings, an opportunity to drastically reform one's life with resolutions such as hittin' the gymnasium on a regular basis, avoiding those devilish carbohydrates or givin' up the auld gargle. Well, I say NAY TO THAT. So instead of a healthy cleansing, vile-tasting vessel of mush, I present you instead with an alcohol fuelled cocktail that will fog all of your judgement and cleanse you in other ways. I picked ingredients inspired by different aspects of my life ( I didn't intend for that sentence to sound as obnoxious as it did ..lol?) Here they are along with the tantalizing tale behind each one:

Champagne- Flash back a few weeks to the eve of the New Year (also known as New Year's Eve). We had made grand plans to go out for dinner, have a few cocktails and polish off a bottle of bubbly. Glam, I know. But with work being so hectic and having spent the last few weeks burning the candle at both ends (wahey!), it seemed like a golden opportunity for a quiet night in (WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH PHILIPPA? I hear you ask). So, snuggled up in my jimjams (that's the jammin part of this post), armed with an ice cold beer and a delectable cheese board (see photo), I rang in the New Year in the borough of Brooklyn,  far from the bright lights and commotion of the city. Shortly after midnight, I lay my head to rest on my fluffly pillow to awake early(ish) the next morning fully refreshed and ready for the year ahead. It took a solid two days for us to realise that the cork on the bottle of champers had not been popped. So, it rears it's fizzy head in this recipe.

Rhubarb bitters: I cannot describe just how cold it is here in any sort of magical way. 'Tis unmercifully bitter, as the fella says. I walked the highline a few days ago (cause yanno, it's always a good idea to go to higher altitudes when its cold) and I thought my face would fall off BUT New York did look mighty fine from up there (again photographic evidence provided below). I have started to wear socks above my ankles (an unprecedented yet necessary move). I have taken to wearing two coats and have contemplated buying a balaclava to protect my face from the bitter wind. I should add- I'm probably exaggerating. Apparently last year was worse but coming from a fairly mild climate, this weather makes me feel like Jack Dawson (when the ship went down...and he was floating in the icy water...and his lips were blue...)  SO the rhubarb part of this beverage is an homage to watching Titanic whilst eating a warm rhubarb crumble with a mountain of whipped cream and a cup of tea in front of a roaring fire with my dogs (ma bishes if you will). You thought the tangled web of words I created wouldn’t make any sense,  didn't you? Fear not,  ramblings my game. 

Raspberry Juice: I played a game with a gentleman in a bar recently (STRANGER DANGER) where we had to ask each other what your favourite such-and-such was and you had to answer straight away or you lost (yes, this is my idea of flirting). Anyway, he asked me what my favourite fruit was and I immediately screamed raspberry. I panicked. It's not my favourite fruit. Rhubarb is. Nevertheless, add raspberry.

Mint & Rosemary: Americans pronounce most things differently to us Celts. Like calling coriander cilantro and rocket arugula and pronouncing basil like baaayzil and droping the h when saying herbs BUT at least we can all agree on rosemary and mint.

Salt: for the rim of the glass- yes, a rim job.

Gin: The End.

Method: make it a double,  barkeep!

And so the cocktail 'Delusional Dusk' is born/presented/poured/chugged/gracefully sipped.

Tune in next week for more shenanigans and remember kids, hashtag never ever drink and text.

Pip x

Challenge #02 - This Little Piggy Went to the Market...and got lost

Yo yo yo!

This is, in fact, yo' girl Philippa.  I'm posting this...post... on Ale's behalf because he is ALLEGEDLY on a 12 hour bus journey to Uruguay where he will have zero internet access for the next six days. So we're all up to speed and here's the dish:

My (this is Ale now) last 4 weeks have been so chaotic, I barely had time to eat. That was a lie, I ate loads, probably more than usual, but it's been chaotic nonetheless between each meal (I usually have 6 or 7 a day). I was doing my last days in both of my jobs, our landlord had strongly suggested that we vacated the apartment as soon as possible due to the massive leaking in the roof (we've been living with inside rain for a few weeks now- fun) and I had to do shit loads of Christmas shopping, because the first thing my sisters asked when I got home were less along the lines of "how was your flight?" and more like "where's my present?".

I did have time, though, to visit the Christmas Market in Dublin and I was fortunate enough to have been to the one in Paris, a few weeks prior. So, logically this post was supposed to be all about that and I was planning to do a comparison between a dish in both markets and it was going to be great. I must declare, however, that I'm not a big fan of Christmas Market food. There, I said it. I don't see the appeal of mulled wine, or even the point of it. I wouldn't choose anything that's sold in any of the stalls as part of my last meal. Hence, there was nothing much to choose from and I ended up having waffles in both places. Don't get me wrong, waffles are delicious and ALWAYS  the right choice, but there was not much I could say about my love for Nutella and sugary stuff (spoiler alert: I will be talking loads about my love for nutella and sugary stuff in the future). Instead, I would much prefer to use my space here to tell you all about the past 4 weeks and my plans, both food and travel related for next year. 

A few months ago I decided I was going to spend Christmas at home. In addition to that, one of my best friends from home was turning 30 around the same time and my sister will be graduating the end of january. In order to do all of that, I was going to need to spend a lot of time in Brazil and not the kind of time you can get off from your job, specially if you have two. Apart from that, my boyfriend James and I were talking about moving to Spain in the new year. After a bit of deliberation (or the amount of time it takes from one's brain to decide between yes or yes), I decided I was going to leave both my jobs and spend a lot of time home and then move to Spain with James. Not entirely satisfied we decided to add a little stoppover in New York City AND  a backpacking trip around Southeast Asia to top it all off. More on that later.

Jump to 10 days ago when I was boarding my plane in Dublin heading towards Rio de Janeiro, with a 8h hour layover in New York City. Philippa and I had already decided that she was going to pick me up (physically and emotionally) at the airport and we were going to spend a few hours together (most likely eating) before I headed to Brazil. To my surprise, though, Philippa was not there when I landed and my phone was flooded with messages from her saying she was in work and that she thought I was only arriving the next day (because I had told her I was.) Tragedy. I remebered that she had once posted in our instagram a picture of her work place, so I decided to come to her. I found it, but two results came up, one in Brooklyn, one in Manhattan. Easy, Philippa lives in Brooklyn so it must be the one there. I ran to the subway to catch the next train and 1h later I was in the shop. For the second time in that day, Philippa was not there. F%$K! I got another message from Philippa saying that she worked in the Mnahattan shop, which was 3 stops away from where I was. At that point it was already 6 and my flight was leaving at 8. I couldn't just give up and go back to the airport frustated. So, I ran back to the subway and three stops later I found myself wifiless, lost in the middle of Manhattan's Christmas Market in Union Square. It took me 5 minutes and the help of two cops and the wifi in Starbucks (see, you can always count on food and food related things) to locate Philippa's shop. And this time, there she was in all her wondrous glory. We hugged for 2 minutes, laughed at how ridiculous it all was, bought some olives from her in a sheer panic and jumped on the next train back to the airport. We didn't spend all the hours we had planned to spend together, but we made those 3 minutes count. And lo ans behold, I managed to arrive at the airport in time. A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE. 
  

With our next addition to the blog being published in the New Year we would like to take a brief moment to thank all of you beautiful folk for the time you've taken to read this. Although it is in it's early days, this blog excites us, inspires us and encourages us. It is our baby. And we intend to raise it in 2015 with integrity,  a light heart and a compass pointing due north to our next meal. 

From the bottom of our hearts...and stomachs (or something that sounds more poetic)... we hope you have a fulfilling, delightful, successful and truly WILD 2015. Although we won't be together promise us this: when the clock chimes midnight on the 31st, raise a glass of your chosen beverage, be it bubbly or buckfast, take a gulp and remember that we are all only ever...A Mouthful Apart.

Your pals,

Philippa,  Emma and Ale. 

A French Christmas

I am back on the beautiful shores of Dublin for this post. This was not the plan. I repeat; NOT the plan. The following paragraph is a low down of how Emma had hoped things would pan out for this week.

After a moonlit walk on the rocky shores of Nice with my oh so chic (...and then there's me) friends, followed by tea and hella lota meringue in a cute little bistro a few weeks ago, something wonderful happened. My friend Marie (pronounced that seductive French way) said she would share her grandmothers treasured Christmas recipe of Coquilles Saint-Jacques with me, and, annnnd, help me to cook it also. This was the perfect night for me; good friends, good food and exciting prospects of real French cooking in the looming future. We set the date, 17/12/2014, the day before my departure. Of course this was cutting it close should anything have gone wrong, which, of course, it did. But I didn't give it a second thought! What could go wrong!? - wondered naïve Emma of Christmas past.

Well, this is what went wrong:


Emma + Snowboard = WRONG



 

Yes, I went snowboarding! It was amazing....well, it became amazing after numerous tantrums, a few regretful tears and many, many (cannot stress this enough), many falls. Why did this affect my cooking plans? You see the way I'm not standing in the picture above? Yeah, that is a very accurate portrayal of how my day went. I was parallel to the ground for nearly the entire thing. When I did stand though, it was the best feeling ever!! Even if only for 3-7 seconds at a time, give or take. As this was my first slope venture, I didn't bring any extra clothes to change in to. So I spent the 2 and a half hour bus journey back in freezing and soaking wet jeans and jacket. The wetness seeped into my bones slowly, I actually felt this on the bus journey, it was most displeasing, and left me voiceless, achy and unable to move for the better part of 3 days. Cooking plans ruined. Bed and hot tea for Emma instead.

I did manage to get the recipe though, and got to cook the whole thing with my little sister in a fully stocked and decorated kitchen in Dublin. Things aint so bad like.

So what do French people cook for Christmas dins? Well this is what one northern French granny makes for starters: Coquilles Saint-Jacques avec Champignons (and wine and whiskey and cheese and butter and butter and butter). Eh, yum.

Coquilles Saint-Jacques or scallops as we call them are a very typical French Christmas staple. I was nervous about cooking the scallops as I know how easy it is to make them rubbery, but after watching many youtube tutorials on the subject and downloading an online timer for the occasion, everything I am pleased to say, turned out deliiiightfully.

So here's the lowdown on the awl coquille wockies.

Les Ingraydayants

 

• 30g flour
• a hayp of salt
• pinch of curry powder
• teeny pinch of cayenne
• 40g butter
• 2 tbs of melted butter
• 20g truffle butter
• 200g of crimini/shiitake mushrooms (sliced)
• 25g of dried wild mushrooms (soak these in warm water NOW for 25 mins)
• 1 chopped onion
• 160ml of dry white wine (pino grigio is gouda - food pun)
• 2 tbs of good whiskey
• 35g of grated comté cheese
• quarter of lemon ready to squeeze
• ALMOST FORGOT - SCALLOPS! v important here, about 1 - 1 1/2 pounds

C'est tout!

What to do

1) Mix all zee dry ingredients together (flour, salt, curry and cayenne) in a bowl
2) Throw in the scallops and coat them in the dry stuff
3) Heat your pan (not too hot, but hot enough...) add the butter and truffle butter. When melted, add the scallops. IMPORTANT -  1 minute 30 seconds for each side of scallop then off the heat, rubberiness is not our friend

you can't sit with us rubber!

4) In the same pan add the onion and fresh mushrooms (add more butter if you dare, and you do.)
5) Drain the dried mushrooms and keep the yummy water, chop shrooms and add to pan (add little bit of the water too, just cos)
6) After about 5/6 minutes of frying, add the white wine and reduce the sauce till it looks like this:

errbody wanna look like me

7) Take off the heat, add the good stuff (i.e whiskey) and the stars of the show (i.e scallops)
8) Scoop the mixture into 6 ramekins (if you have the scallop shells, scoop them into these instead, if you're into pretty thangs)
9) Mix together the bread crumbs, melted goodness and cheese and sprinkle on top of pots, they should look a lil something like this


perfection! (self proclaimed..)
 

10) Put your oven on the highest broiler setting and stick them in until they're all bubbly and the cheese gets nice and brown (brown cheese.... surprisingly delicious)


in the oven, like a boss

11) Remove from oven. DISCLAIMER, wear protective hand-wear such as gloves cos they're hot little feckers, drizzle with lemon and bob's your uncle!

eaten, like a boss

Even though I didn't get to make these in the setting of a real French kitchen with a real French madam, I did not despair. All clouds have a silver lining, as the saying goes and I got to share this beautiful occasion with my little sister (who took all the photos). We sang Christmas songs and laughed a bunch. The spirit of Christmas was alive in our kitchen and our hearts today.

Yes, I did cringe writing the above paragraph. I hope you did too. MERRY XMAS xoxoxo

Challenge #02- This Little Piggy Went to Market- Philippa's Quest.

Temperatures have plummeted here in the Gotham City, a light dusting of crystal white snow has covered the parks and avenues and revelry is peeking it's mischievous little head around every corner. There is no doubt about it- Christmas is in full swing in New York with fairy lights, tacky (in a good way obviously) decorations, silver firs and mulled wine adorning every inch of the city. What better way to spend a day than galavanting from stall to stall and feasting on festive foods at The Union Square Holiday Market.
I ate my way from start to finish as if I was in a food maze looking for the centre where I would find my reward. I tried a feta and olive pretzel but in a cruel twist (yes, this is a pretzel pun) it wasn't heated the entire way through (and I was kinda still hungry) so I continued my quest and tried my hand (and mouth) at a crabmeat empanada washed down with a (non alcoholic *sigh*) hot cider which was a tasty little number but something inside told me that if I continued on my pilgrimage my path ahead would be paved with roasted garlic. And lo and behold, I found a lovely little Persian stall selling the perfect treat for a cold winters day- SOUP! Chicken, lentil and roasted garlic soup to be precise- a fusion of flavours; a gastronomic gem; a cup of comfort from the land of the Persian empire.
It was piping hot, soothing, thick and gloupy (yes, that's a word),  nourishing and incredibly tasty. It warmed both the cockles of my heart and my numb fingers. On top of that, the man who served me (yes, the one who caught me taking a photo of the stall) was incredibly friendly and polite. Proof: he gladly topped up my roasted garlic when I asked him to. What a gentleman. I cannot stress enough how much I love garlic. I love the smell of wild garlic in woodlands. I am obsessed with garlicky cheeses. I get a kick out of cracking cloves apart and crushing them. I go absolutely nuts for roast garlic. I am a fiend for doubling, nay, tripling quantities of garlic in recipes. I am fascinated by its odd appearance. You know when people avoid eating garlic if they're going out somewhere? Yeah, I just don't get that. In fact, I have been known to profess my undying love for strangers if I so much as get a hint of the sweet smell of garlic in the air. True story. Forget mistletoe this Christmas (not that it ever works anyway) I am aaaaall about reelin' them in with garlic. I would insert some sort of pun here about garlic and g spot but that would be highly inappropriate. So yeah to sum up- I think garlic is ok.

Below is the photographic evidence to support the above statement as well as a snapshot of a resident squirrel at Union Square. I have also included a photo of myself and my friend Holly... on the subway...with a Christmas tree... at 4am cause tis the season to make jolly choices, right? (If you're reading this Mum, NO I was not in any way even slightly drunk. Nor do I associate with anyone who steals champagne...)  

I raise my metaphorical cup of soup to you lovely folk at this magical time of year. Warm wishes. Merry Christmas. Eat up!