Here's to cookery

I may have been tired and cranky since I got back from the UK, but I've cooked some really tasty foods. Let me share recipes!

I had RPG gamers over last Sunday, and fed them gluten-free salads. First there was a version of this Salmon and Chickpea salad, using tinned tuna instead of tinned salmon (couldn't find the latter in my supermarket - Switzerland seems to default to smoked salmon). I also used a teaspoon of sembal oelek instead of chilli flakes*.

Also made was rice salad with apple and nuts, but I learned an important lesson: 4 cups cooked rice =/= 4 cups rice, cooked. So I had MOUNTAINS OF RICE SALAD with comparatively little apple. I still have leftovers of the bloody thing.

Later in the week I made Black-eyed bean and tomato curry, which turned out... hmm. Tasty, filling, but not quite *right*. It's missing something, and I'm yet to figure out what. Could be that I didn't have curry leaves or garam marsala, so that's I'll try again with those. Can I also note how much I'm loving that blog, 'Lisa's Kitchen', since going part-time vegetarian? OM NOM NOM. Today or tomorrow I'm going to try my hand at lentil borscht with her recipe...

Finally, I made ANZAC biscuits using the Women's Weekly recipe rather than the Taste.com.au one, and *with* baking soda this time. They turned out perfect and charmed my students - so much that students wanted the recipe! Accordingly, here I present the Women's Weekly ANZAC biscuit recipe modified for international measurements and with ingredients list glossed in French:

( NOMS FOREVER )

~

*Another thing I can't find in switzerland is minced chilli in a jar. Sembal Oelek seems to be, while not the same, a flavoursome substitute, especially if one doesn't usually add salt to recipes anyway.

F.R. Scott - Will to Win

Your tall French legs, my V for victory,
My sign and symphony, Eroica,
Uphold me in these days of my occupation
And stir my underground resistance.

Crushed by the insidious infiltration of routine
I was wholly overrun and quite cut off.
The secret agents of my daily detail
Had my capital city under their rule and thumb.

Only a handful of me escaped to the hillside,
Your side, my sweet and holy inside,
And cowering there for a moment I drew beath,
Grew solid as trees, took root in a fertile soil.

Here, by my hidden fires, drop your supplies -
Love, insight, sensibility and myth -
Thousands of fragments rally to my cause.
I ride like Joan to conquer my whole man.

---

Today's poem is a return, again, to the Oxford Book of Canadian Verse.