Dear reader, or indeed, readers: You may, singularly or en masse, have become increasingly concerned at the startling lack of chicken-related news in this blog. It is possible, but admittedly not likely, that you are of a nervous disposition, and have been unable to reconcile the existence of a “Chickens” menu with the non-existence of any news or updates regarding them. Well, my anxious friend, this post is for you.
We started out almost exactly two years ago with four red sex-link pullets. Since then, we have gained two Ameraucanas – one of which turned out to be a rooster and had to be “returned to the farm”. I don’t know why I put that phrase in quotes, he literally was returned to the farm. To, you know, “live out his life in the paddock”. What? It’s the quotes, they make everything look suspicious. Anyway, the farmer promised to “take care of him”, so I’m sure everything’s fine. Just fine.
Shrimp curry is easy to make, and we flavor it with coconut milk and add sweetcorn for a summery touch, but you can make this all year round!
While I love hot dogs and hamburgers and all those great American summer favorites, I find that by August I’m actually kind of bored of them. That’s when I crave something completely different, something that will wake my tastebuds right up.
Something like this fiery red shrimp curry, made silky by coconut milk and topped with lots of bright herbs like mint, basil and cilantro. We made it with wild-caught North Carolina white shrimp because they looked amazing at the market but you could easily swap them out for chicken thighs or breasts (cut into large bite-sized chunks), tofu, even chickpeas would be a delicious vegan option.
Sweet corn is in peak season right now and while it lasts I add it to just about everything, but it really does work incredibly well here. Corn and shrimp are a classic pairing but with the curry sauce, it’s crazy good. If fresh corn is not in season, frozen works perfectly well, too.
Refreshing and a perfect balance of tart and sweet. But enough about you, let’s make this cucumber and mint gimlet.
In my continuing fight against the ever-present threat of scurvy, I present to you the limiest of cocktails: the gimlet. Many people are under the impression that only sailors and pirates are at risk but don’t be fooled, anyone aboard a ship at sea longer than perishable fruits and vegetables can be stored can be afflicted.
Even those of us who live on land and get plenty of vitamin-C from other sources should be vigilant. You can never be too careful, and it’s my professional duty* to write you a preventative prescription in the form of this deliciously fresh, sweet/tart cocktail.
*I am not a doctor and should not be trusted to give advice on anything other than film-editing (and not even that if I’ve had more than two of these gimlets).
This Summer Berry Tart with Lemon Mascarpone Cream is supermodel gorgeous, rich and creamy, balanced by the bright citrusy flavor of lemon curd. And super-duper easy to make!
Besides being nerdy about movies, television and all things culinary, Matt and I both share a dorky fascination with etymology (the history of words).
I’ve written about my most hated words in a previous post (which had to be titled Asian Cabbage and Fennel Salad because Matt despises the word ‘slaw’). Now I thought we’d list some of our favorites (join us and write yours in the comments!).
Emily: Luminescent, gloaming, nixed, defenestration
Matt: Ramble, button, spandrel, pickle
“Great,” you mumble. “But can I have the recipe for that tart now?”
We’re finally getting better at this whole “growing stuff” thing. Our first year here we struggled with just a few herbs on the deck. We grew some thyme, a bit of sage, a little rosemary. One scraggly little basil plant that got some sort of fungus and never recovered. Our second year was a little better. The rosemary was bushier, the chives flowered beautifully. Basil seemed happier.
This year, pow! Basil explosion. We’re growing them in large pots in a very sunny spot and they’ve gone absolutely bonkers. It’s like Day of the Triffids out there.