Methan Puppy and Olivier

Sorry I have been away some time...Busy being a Cinderella.Puppy is growing by the minute and that little rascal has discovered her healthy side. 

Vegetables and Fruit are her new passion.  And she has also located the compost heap, even though I have covered it with wood.Not that any of this would be a problem, but it seems, that her stomach is no good with healthy stuff and oh boy... she can fart!!!It stinks so badly, that we now have to lock her out at night.Sorry Methan Puppy!!! (that's her new nickname)The name got inspired by the 'famous' MR. METHAN, who FARTED Beethoven at " Germany is looking for the Superstar' show. Poor guys around him had to wear gas-masks...!!! I say,  this is one guyyou better not date... Shame, since he is pretty cute, in a way...www.mrmethane.com
Anything for fame... Shame...

One day e went to Lisbon and had an amazing time.I discovered a delicious gourmet-deli-bar-market, where one can shop, eat, drink and people watch.I stocked up on all kind of yummy goods, excited like a little girl.I must find the card sometime, somewhere, but at the moment I am just a mess and so is my desk, my room, and my head!!!

GOOD NEWS: FOUND CARD!!! (by accident)DELI DELUXEAv. Infante D. Henrique Armazém B Loja 8 1900-264 LisboaPortugalT.: +351 218 862 070 
www.delidelux.pt

Then we visited the OCEANARIUM, for little Prince...The sea-dragon and the Sunfish were my favorites... What a wonder nature is...

Phyllopteryx

Weedy sea dragon
Phyllopteryx taeniolatus in Cabbage Tree Bay, Sydney, Australia
Conservation status
Near Threatened (IUCN 3.1)
Scientific classification
Kingdom:	Animalia
Phylum:	Chordata
Class:	Actinopterygii
Order:	Syngnathiformes
Family:	Syngnathidae
Subfamily:	Syngnathinae
Genus:	Phyllopteryx Swainson, 1839
Species:	P. taeniolatus
Binomial name
Phyllopteryx taeniolatus (Lacepède, 1804)
Phyllopteryx taeniolatus range.

Phyllopteryx taeniolatus, the weedy sea dragon or common sea dragon, is a marine fish related to the seahorse. It is the only member of the genusPhyllopteryx. It is found in water 3 to 50 m deep around the southern coastline of Australia, approximately between Port Stephens, New South Wales andGeraldton, Western Australia, as well as around Tasmania. Weedy sea dragons are named for the weed-like projections on their bodies that camouflage them as they move among the seaweed beds where they are usually found.

Weedy sea dragons can reach 45 cm in length. They feed on tiny crustaceansand other zooplankton, from places such as crevices in reef, which are sucked into the end of their long tube-like snout. They lack a prehensile tail that enables similar species to clasp and anchor themselves. Phyllopteryx taeniolatus swim in shallow reefs and weed beds, and resemble drifting weed when moving over bare sand.^[1]

Sea dragons, sea horses and pipefish are the only known species where the male carries the eggs.

The male of the species carries the fertilized eggs, attached under his tail, where they are incubated for about eight weeks. The young are independent at birth, beginning to eat shortly after. ^[1]Mating in captivity is rare since researchers have yet to understand what biological or environmental factors trigger them to reproduce. In captivity the survival rate for weedy sea dragons is about 60%.^[2]

Illustration of Weedy sea dragons by Ferdinand Bauer

A more cryptic relative of the weedy sea dragon is the leafy sea dragon Phycodurus eques. In the November 2006 issue of National Geographic magazine, marine biologist Greg Rouse is reported as investigating the DNA variation of the two sea dragon species across their ranges.

The Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach, California in the USA,Melbourne Aquarium in Australia and the Tennessee Aquarium in Chattanooga, Tennessee in the USA^[3] are the only facilities in the world to have successfully bred weedy sea dragons in captivity, though othersoccasionally report egg laying.^[4] As of June 2008, the Georgia Aquariumin Atlanta, USA had a pregnant sea dragon, which was expected to give birth in early-mid July.^[5]

The weedy sea dragon is the marine emblem of the State of Victoria.^[6]




 Mistake of nature? 


The sunfish has its fins in odd positions and swims very slowly...
It also is endangered by hungry Asians and plastic bags! (plastic, bloody plastic)


After so much water-world schooling we went for a walk in CHIADO and Bairro Alto. Cool people, hippy and young and a lively vibe...
Prince took me to some hip boutiques, which he had discovered when meeting SANTA CLAUS in December.
Amazingly, most shops stay open till late into the night.
One flower shop was dazzlingly beautiful, I must go back and take evidence shots on my Casio.
The concept is, selling flowers along with other beautiful gift ideas. Candles, champagne buckets, books and clay birds... Great idea.
And the ambiance of this little gem, with its black walls and the disco ball creating a magical light-play is well worth a stop over on your next Lisbon trip.
I will promise to get all info and the pictures next time.
Meanwhile check this side for Bairroalto lovers:
www.ilovebairroalto.com


We drop into the BAIRROALTO hotel, a fashionable boutique newcomer. (or better to say repeat-comer, since this hotel has a long and colorful history in town)




www.bairroaltohotel.com


The hotel is a vibrant mix of old and new and is sporting some interesting art pieces.
(I especially love the iron sculpture at the entrance. It reminds me of horses, country life and wild sex)
The artist's name is RUI Chafes, a gifted talent!


www.ruichafes.net


Some of his works are out in the open, so take a stroll and find some art...







The Bairro Alto hotel has another strong draw: The famous 'Restaurant Flores'.
But it seems more of a lunch place, since it is pretty empty this night.
Next time around, lunch at Flores.
Looking for a special dinner option, the very helpful Concierge recommends 'OLIVIER', just down the road.
And what a place it is.
From the setting to the atmosphere, to the crowd, to the food.
Perfect night and absolutely delicious!!!





Olivier is one of the most happening Portuguese chefs at the moment and has another OLIVIER at the Tivoli Lisbon.
And he can cook. We were flabbergasted by taste sensations.
DIVINE!
The Service, by the way, OUTSTANDING!


When we are ready to leave, the charming lady in charge introduces herself and we learn, that she is the sister of the famous Chef.
LUCKY SISTER***
She takes care of the restaurants, Olivier makes heavenly food and sister number 2 is the decorator.
Familia Olivier, very cool! Maybe the recipe for success is family and love and fresh ingredients?
www.restaurante-olivier.com


The lady fills in a special VIP card for us, to visit a secret bar, only open to members.
It must be very secret indeed, since we never found it.


Lisboa my beauty, boa noite...

And dinner?

Anna's favorite easy roast chicken with rosemary baby potatoes (for 2)

1 happy farm chicken (giblets and tail removed) 

salt and pepper

rosemary sprigs (fresh preferably)

balsamic vinegar

olive oil

kitchen string to tie chicken legs

12 baby potatoes (or as many you are hungry for)

olive oil

rosemary sprigs, roughly chopped

fat salt

1. Preheat the oven to 180 C. Rinse the chicken inside-out, pat dry.

2. In a bowl mix 4 teaspoon of balsamic vinegar with 150 ml of olive oil.

3. Season the chicken with salt and pepper and then brush with the vinegar-oil, all over and inside the cavity too. Stuff a few rosemary sprigs inside the chicken, tie the legs with the string, put in a roasting pan and into the oven. I start with breasts up, but I don't think it matters much. Every 10 minute or so, I check on my birdie, pricking its skin a little with a fork to release some juices and brushing it with the liquids collected in the pan. Like this the skin will get crunchy and crisp. Depending on your oven strength, it may take about 45 minutes to an hour till the chicken is perfectly over sun-tanned (fried). Turn it over (careful-VERY HOT!) and roast it another 45 minutes - or till crispy brown. 

4. Yes, and the potatoes... well:

Best is, if you have 2 ovens (I used to and I miss it) and you can cook both dishes parallel and take them out of the oven in harmonious timing.

Or you could make the potatoes in advance.

You can also bake them together in the oven, but honestly, unless both pans fit next to each other, the outcome may be unsatisfying

Or you b Best bet are 2 ovens though. 1 xxl - extra long one, for things like a big fresh catch (Gaggenau has some great and trusted versions) and 1 beauty, never-let-me-down - 

ROLLS ROYCE OF THE KITCHEN - THE AGA. 

If you get the super-duper AGA you will be in no need of a 2.oven, since it comes with many oven-compartments to bake and cook separately.  If AGA is over your budget, which probably it will be (but it is for eternity, that oven, no kidding, so you invest in something substantial, almost like a piece of art) there is the second best, FALCON. They come in great colors and designs and are just as divine as the AGA... Dreaming of ovens... one day... one day, I will have a FALCON or an AGA again...

What joy the idea alone cam bring... But here is proof of my dreams:

Not too bad, eh? I could go on and on about them, just like boys about cars...

AGA...

***

Wait! The potatoes. Sorry. I got sidetracked on dreaming. So when you turn the chicken:

5. In a pan coat the potatoes with  some olive oil (just coat ,don't drown!) and the chopped rosemary- give it a good shake (I just shake the pan and make them dance a little in the lubricating oil) and last a teaspoon of fat salt over them and into baking grounds.

The Queen's fart

WEEKEND...
But no sun this time. I wonder if the sun ever returns...
?
But it is not raining, at least something.
We have again a house to see, another one.
Close by, it is similar to our current home, also on the river, but with much more light, less humidity and a stunning view over the castles. The interior is old Portuguese style, with tiles and dark wood, but surprisingly big bedrooms. (ours par example, are no bigger than the beds)
There is a garage, which would be great news for our not-rainproof cars and in general, the house is in better condition.
But... only now we seem to realize, we have grown to love our problem-villa.
It may have ants, it may have mold growing on my sweaters, it may have moths eating my all-time favorite coat, it may have water coming up the bathtub and it may look a bit TIRED, but it has become home.
STRANGE beings, those humans, aren't we?
If we spend enough time with something (or someone), chances are we get used to it. We might even start liking or worst LOVING it. (it even has happened to kidnapping victims)
Guess it has happened to us. The idea of leaving our nest for something better, cleaner, brighter and more perfect, seems now totally out of question.
At least we learned that much from home-rental snooping!


Weekend also means veggie market. All day, Saturday and Sunday, the road to ALMOCAGEM is turned into a fresh produce fair. The local farmers are selling their goods, in the most rustic romantic way.
There is the very very old grandpa, who comes with his tractor, selling nothing but potatoes and onions, when he has not fallen asleep, that is. Some times I have to shake him a few minutes, till he returns from who knows where, sleepily blinking at me and smiling the biggest tooth free smile.
PATATAS?? Sim, Sim...
Then there is the jam and liquor girl, who loves wearing a Bavarian hat. (she had a German lover once)
She makes magic potions out of anything eatable or drinkable and I always end up with some suspicious brew, that is supposed to have healing powers. So far, not much to report on that!
I bought a second fridge, just to have enough space to keep all those healthy goodies for the long time of a week...


After so much basket filling, Prince's tummy is growling. HUNGRY!
We discover a tiny Adega (we followed our nose...what a smell), Adega meaning wine cellar and watch grandpa grilling all sorts of meats in the garden. It could be someone's home, as the little chubby lady, wearing curlers and a night gown, is just hanging up some cloth next to him. Those dresses must smell 'delicious' when dry.
The Adega seems to be a local favorite, as it is packed. Resembling something of a mountain chalet, I am beaming with happiness. It is soooo adorable! The lady of the house pushes us into the second room, where we find a tiny table, just for the 2 of us. Now all I am missing is the snow...
The starters arrive, cheese, olives and something baked, which disappears into Prince's mouth, before I even have a chance to nibble it. TYPICALLY!
The menu, of course, is anything from grandpa's grill.
Chicken for me and the famous black pork for Prince.
YUMMM.
Washed down with a bottle of house red (no, I don't forget my promise...I barely had a glass) and water. The perfect lunch!
"Let's take the dogs into the forest", Prince suggests.
"Of course! I love too."
Talking of Sintra forest... it is not just a forest. It is THE forest. A protected area, it is a lush and green fairy-haven, littered with giant boulders, as if, once upon a time, Sintra mountain was home to some very aggressive colossuses.
We take the veggie car home, unload the greens and reds and yellows, to load the furry ones and into the forest. Little did we know, that the QUEEN'S FART was out.
Queen's fart, is what the locals call the misty cloud, hovering over Sintra.
And boy, today she must have eaten badly. We don't even see 1 meter ahead of us. SCARY...

Prince is looking for the area with the biggest rock formation, but we do get lost for a while. Now and then some faded lights appear out of nowhere in the dense grey of the fog, surreal, spooky, yet outrageously beautiful.

"Found it!", Prince is excited. I am relieved. The last thing I would like on a Saturday afternoon, is to be lost in some royal fart.
"But I can't see anything, are you sure you want to walk? ... if we loose the dogs..." I am trying, but not succeeding.
"Common, let's go" and with that, he is already gone, lost in the cloud...
Better to follow fast, before I am left all alone with my rioting fantasy just wakening up...
Yikes... Did I say monsters??? Ghosts? Hooked nose witches and other mean fable beings...
"PRINCE...wait for me...pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeee...
Once I take hold of his hand, the riots in my head go back to sleep and I relax...
It is magic.
The light brushes through the mist, creating a steamy swirl. Lost rain drops keep falling gently, from overloaded leaves and everything is un-earthily quiet. Dreamlike.
I can smell the earth and the air is filled with the strong scent of mushrooms. They must be popping up in armies these days. Only, they don't look very eatable. Magic, might be the better description.

All of a sudden we hear a sound and I hide behind Prince. Oh no... I am scared. The dogs seem unfazed, no woof, no nothing, so maybe the sounds mean well. And then we see them, two serious bikers, posing on the rocks. What a fantastic sight!!! I try to catch them on my Casio, but a bit too late, I only get one. Better than none.
Since it is getting dark it is time to return to lower lands.
By by Queen...

Returning home, I catch our chestnut tree in the purple sunset light. Bare, yet ripe with fruit it looks model-perfect for a master piece in oil. Sorry, but digital master, that's all I can do...(for now...)


Our night is quiet and homey. Doing nothing... Reading... googeling...and some time after midnight watching "The mutiny of the bounty" with Marlon Brando... Honestly, not many things (people) keep me up after midnight (true Cinderella style, because the carriage turns pumpkin, the dresses turn rags and who knows what else changes...), but Brando surely has a way...


te here nei au 
(Tahitian for I love you)
xxxx

Thank you Universe and ZYRTEC

At 3 am the night finishes abruptly. Prince is waking me, not feeling well. He has an allergic reaction to something he ate. His lips are swollen, his heart is racing. He is panicking. I am totally unable to think clearly. i still feel bad from the alcohol overdose. My mind is a foggy-cloggy mess. DAMN!
And I am freaking out, calling every number I know. Useless me!
Prince, meanwhile calm and composed again, tells me what to do. I follow his instructions like a robot. Zyrtec, for allergic reactions and 112. The ambulance arrives in no time, blue lights in the entrance and the night turns into a nightmare. I am in shock, holding Prince's hand. What he ate, the nurse is asking. Peanuts, Worcestershire sauce, cheese, tomatoes...He gets hooked to the oxygen pump, filled up with pure air, his facial color is returning just a bit. What is happening, I wonder. Do we still have that evil cloud over us? Can it not move on and make space for the sun? The blood pressure is way too high, but the calming words of the nurse and the oxygen slowly return his levels to normal. He is okay. Yes... thank you nurse, thank you god, thank you universe... The nurse suggests to take Prince to the hospital, to be on the safe side, but he feels fine and prefers to stay home. I am trying to convince him otherwise, but he refuses. The emergency team leaves and we just sit there, in our living room, staring at each other with a blank. SCARY. A brush with the other side... just here and now we realize how fragile this thing called L-I-F-E is... Hanging on a fine string, it only takes a wicked moment, to cut it...and that's that... How often do we say it, but how often do we really do it?


LIVE
Enjoy
SMILE
Dance
Share
KISS
Help
Cuddle
Embrace
Thank
Appreciate


Because today might be the last...


Sleeping with the lights on, like children trying to keep the bad monsters in the cupboards, we awake unrested and lost. All day I feel empty and like a Zombie. I need to run into Prince's office all the time, just to check, that he is okay, that he is there...
My resolutions of the past hours:
I will make it a priority to go and take a first aid lesson.
I will get an appointment to check our allergies.
ASAP.
No more drinking (that much)!
(If, knock wood, there ever would be an emergency again and I feel like doooda, I will be useless and helpless and who knows what can happen! I must be responsible. I am no more teeny. I have no more excuse!)
And drinking and mixing=NO!
As a rule from now (if I remember!!!), if I go to someone's house, where drinks flow freely, I will stick with a few glasses of red, FEW as in 1 or 2 and then follow with tea. Yeaph! Tea time from today.
It is a horrible feeling to waste a whole day for a few hours of slurred blur!
And one more time - THANK YOU UNIVERSE...
***
Not much on today otherwise. It is raining again and I am trying to finish my few old blogs, upload some more pics and get this thing aired! I am so scared, that once again, I start something-like this blog-and never finish. I must finish by weekend!
The Fedex man brings me a package - My LUFTHANSA senator card. Yippppie. I am now a gold class traveler, once again. Another letter arrives for me, from Bergdorf Goodmann New York. It's a christmas card from the nice gentlemen, who helped us choosing all my dresses. Now this is costumer service! I promise to go back to Mister Josh (my Goshhh), when next in NY.

Looks like the ants have discovered a love for my gingerbread heart, mom brought from Germany. Even though wrapped in plastic, hanging above the ground, it has now been invaded by hundreds of crawling things. It is an awful sight and I am very sad to throw out that sweet memoir.

Ants - Anna  1:0 once again!
Naturally I do some more googeling on how to get rid of them, but there are millions around the house. Find the Queen it says. I wonder where to start looking. By now I am sure it is not a Queen, but a harem of Queens.




And with this the shocking nightmare-day has ended


One word of advise: Always have some Zyrtec in the house!!! If a reaction from food or a bee sting, it is a must!!!


xxxxxx


PS: Emirates has responded, who would have thought. No DODO news though:


Dear Ms,
Thank you very much for you email.
We are very sorry that not all your flights with emirates were to your
entire satisfaction.
Also we are very sorry that you lost your DODO on the way back home - we
can only assume that someone else who found him sitting in the lounge on
his own adopted him!
As for your question concerning the skylights we have in our planes -
they are not related to any real constellations.
We hope you keep flying with Emirates and wish you all the best.
Kind regards

HANGOVER LANE

Ohhhhhhhh god.......oh no........I am feeling awful!
My head is exploding with pain bombs and my stomach feels ready for big throw up.
I cannot drink ( I try to get some water in), I cannot eat, I can just lie in bed wishing the day over.
Every time I drift of into heavenly sleep, I wake again feeling much better, but it never lasts longer, than a few minutes and back to HANGOVER lane.
What was it?
Red wine?
Brandy?
Porto?
Something else in yellow color... And smoking! I have not smoked in months now...WHY???

I WILL NEVER EVER DRINK AGAIN!

goshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Give and share and be kind and don't drink too much!

Tonight we are invited at Mrs. J's home, a farewell get-together for her son.
I am the one to make the appetizers and the son - a very talented young chef- is doing the main.
Young chef is leaving the little village of Sintra to head for the big world, London calling!
Great place for a chef, but also great competition.
That is life though, and so the little ones fly out, looking for their own path...
Shame... because it is always great to have a chef as a friend...


I guess some (fine) assorted collection of cheese, some prosciutto, maybe a dip and veggie sticks and homemade bread will do.
I usually buy the ready mix for bread (yeast already added). It comes in wholesome dark flavors with seeds and grains and is easy to make and always impressive. You don't need a bread-maker, just your hands, some time and the oven.
"WOW... YOU MADE THE BREAD???"
I mix half a kilo now, with 350 ml of warm water. The dough should be rather moist and gooey, but knead it well and with lotssssssssss of love. You can taste love in bread, I am convinced!
Cover the bowl and let it rest and rise on a draft-free place.


Prince wants to join me to the Corte Ingles today, great news, because less heavy baskets to carry.
But what is it with men in supermarkets? The coolest, smartest, fastest boys - once in a supermarket they are like lost babies! I push the shopping list into Prince's hand, but he returns either empty handed or google-eyed with something totally wrong. His sweet offer of helping delays us instead, but hey, I am not carrying those baskets. (my favorite shopping baskets from the St. Tropez market... there is no other way of shopping...And of course NO WAY of using plastic)
Check this blog - I LOVE IT
therubbishdiet.blogspot.com


I spot, once again, that handsome tall security guard, who always seems to keep an eye on me. I wonder if he likes me, or just makes sure, that I am not some thief in disguise. I think-hope-it is the first option?
Packed like donkeys we leave the shop and return home.


PS: I also got mascarpone today, for that soufflé testing!


Time for me to arrange the cheese platter; on a big wooden board, of course, and on some big leaves to give color and earthiness. Add some nuts and fruit and Anna's homemade Quince-paste and voila. Just like in France! (best to arrange soft cheeses hours ahead, to get them gooey and ready for sensual explosion)
My choice of cheese today: and sorry I am cheating on the delicious Portuguese selections (what a discovery, but more on that later)

*Monte D'or (heaven on earth, moist and runny to be discovered under a thick crust)
*Saint Marcellin (nutty and creamy and mhhhhh)
* Saint Maure de Touraine (the magnum of goat cheese, moldy grey roll on a straw with a walnut flavor)
*Cabecau ( milky with a hint of hazelnut, one can taste the happy goat life in the land)


Did you know that there used to be about 400 different kinds of cheese in France, but now the number has risen to above 1000? CHEEEEEESEEEEEE'es!!!


AND.... I will not let out my favorite Portuguese, a luscious masterpiece, which left me speechless (chewless) the first time I tasted it in a little tavern on the beach.



Azeitão
This round of sheep's milk cheese, is of royal finesse. Apparently, the land where the animals graze is covered in lush, herbaceous scrubs, which give this cheese its distinguished flavor. Molded in cloth, the appearance is rustic and simple, if even unrefined, which only adds to the surprise and romance once the hard crust is cut and the gooey gold gets scooped out with crisp bread. It is the perfect CINDERELLA cheese. Once you scrap away the poor looking (don't be fooled) outside, the inside holds a treasure of pure delight. Shame, that I discovered such palate diamond so late in life, but then... it means, that the path to tomorrow will have many more pleasant discoveries to come... Something I surely will look forward to...


Anna's Quince paste recipe


As soon as the leaves turn golden, the days get shorter and the roads are 'littered' with chestnuts and dancing foliage, the romantic season, also known as autumn (or less romantic - fall) has arrived. Autumn, a season for day-dreaming girls and a forgotten Queen called QUINCE. I remember quinces when I was a little girl. They held some strange fascination. You could not eat them (I tried and tried), yet, in grandma's kitchen this yellow apple-pear-lemon look alike, would turn into the most delicious juice, jam or preserve. Grandpa's garden was my paradise, but heaven opened its gates once the love-grown goods landed in grandma's blessed hands, and turned into the most yummmy dishes. Everything at my grandma's home was homemade. From the pasta, to the bread to the pickles. Born in Hungary, she had to leave her roots in the dark and cold of the 2. world war. Stranded in a poor village in Germany, an outcast, a gipsy, living in a rotten house filled with fugitives, she grew up without much hope, comfort or love. Life was hard, but there was always the kitchen. And even, if there was not much available for cooking, she learned to collect nature's wild gifts, like mushrooms and berries to fill the hungry tummies of the house... It was only 70 years ago, that a piece of bread was luxury.  Let's never forget how lucky we are today! Especially, when little things upset us. We should be thankful and try to share and give as much goodness and kindness as possible. And on that point: Cooking is such form of giving and sharing. Quince paste is a lovely gift, so next time the leaves are dancing, make a paste and give it to your friends.


4 Quinces
50-100 ml water
250-350 g sugar, depends on puree amount




1. Heat the oven to 180 C.
2. Wash the quinces and pat dry. Put them into a roasting tin, cover with foil and bake* for about 2 hours, till soft and mushy. Let cool, peel the skin, core and quarter them.
3. In a food processor puree with 50 ml of water, adding extra water if too thick.
4. Push puree true a sieve (it is a bit of work and time)
5. Measure the amount of puree, pour into a pot and add an equal amount of sugar. Cook over medium heat (make sure it is not too hot, or the puree will get burned and taste a bit funny) stirring CONSTANTLY. Yes. Nonstop. I know... but if you get bored get some good music playing or listen to some old radio shows at www.radiolovers.com. Those mystery stories should keep you happily stirring!
The stirring is the secret ingredient in the quince paste.
6. Quinces must have their own mind, as I have had many different timings till the paste gets thick (it should coat the back of your wooden spoon, without dripping) so anywhere between 45 to 65 minutes should be the norm. But if it takes longer, just keep on stirring! Remove from heat.
7. Push baking paper into a square pan and lightly oil it. Pour the paste into it, smoothing out the top with  the wooden spoon. If you have time and you are in no rush or need of this delicious treat, then cover the pan and let dry in a warm place for a few days. I, to be honest, had no luck or patience with this method so far. I am also afraid of unwanted gourmet visitors, like dogs, ants or rats. Instead I turn on the oven to lowest heat and let it oven-dry. This takes about 3-4 hours, but it promises an ant-free delectable paste ready for dinner time.


* You can also boil the quinces till soft. This is much faster, but the fruit will loose some flavor and get much more watery. That means longer stirring time till you get the thick paste.
If you are experimental, try adding cinnamon or lemon to the puree. Another option is using wine instead of water. All a matter of taste, but best to start with the simple fool-proof version.


Prosciutto wraps (easy tasty starters)


slices of prosciutto
fig jam
mascarpone
dried figs, grapes


1. Spread a little fig jam and a little mascarpone on a slice of prosciutto.
2. Roll up and SERVE o a wooden board with some grapes and dried figs.


This must be the easiest appetizer ever and still always gets a lot of UHHHH and Ahhhh's....
In the warmer months, add some fresh mint leaves for that extra UHHHHH.
The best version ever though, is not fig jam - but sweet olive jam. Since it is so hard to distinguish what the sweet flavor could be, people just munch away wondering, wondering, munching and Uhhhhh-ing...
Olive jam is not always easy to find. You can order it or do it yourself. My olive jam recipe will come up soon.

Easy blue cheese dip with veggie Crudités


200 g yogurt (Greek style yogurt preferred)
100 g blue cheese
vegetables of choice, like carrots, cucumbers, celery, peppers... washed and cut into sticks


1. In a food processor mix the yogurt and cheese till you have a creamy baby blue (grey) dip. Pour into a cup and serve with the veggie sticks.


Ready to visit Mrs. J, who had a bad fall (on top  of the chef-son leaving) and is now stuck at home with a broken leg-
House-arrest!
But since the weather is nothing but a grey wet wall, for the last 3 weeks (and no change coming up soon), there is not much missing out. We bought her a beautiful soft and silky blanket in a shimmering midnight blue, for all those long TV nights in front of her fireplace.
I am checking on Prince and he is not feeling well at all.
What happened?
He was just fine, wasn't he?
I am worried.
Shaking badly, he is trying to fuel up on warmth in front of the electric (fireplace look alike from LIDL) heater. His face is mummy white!
I bring him an aspirin and a big glass of Vitamin C and suggest to stay in. He wants to give it a little time and see. So I put him to bed, all cuddled up under 3 layers of blankets, to get warm and a bit of rest.
I think he is just exhausted. Even though we just returned from holidays, 12 days (including mad travel) are just way too short, especially after the year we had.
I am ready to cancel Mrs. J, when Prince appears, looking a bit brighter.
"I am ok, it is not right to cancel", he mumbles.
"Are you sure, you don't look good!"
"I am ok, let's go and come back early."


Just an hour late, we arrive at Mrs. J's beautiful home in a tiny village. Overlooking the valley and the sea, it is a magnificent place for doing NOTHING, but paint, write, plant and cook. And this really is the life of Mrs. J.
A fabulous cook (now we know where the chef-son got his talents), a wonderful mother and somewhat a hippy at heart she is an admirable person. Her life has been rather colorful and exciting, a free spirit, who roamed the planet like a wild butterfly, only to land on this flower called PORTUGAL.
Tonight, since Mrs. J cannot move, the kids take care of the dinner. The chef-son has made a pork loin, which is filling the house with the most luring smell. Son number 2 has helped with setting the table and his girlfriend has made a delicious guacamole.
We join Mrs. J by the fireplace, sipping red(me) and bubbles for the others. A small family gathering, the house is as always like a home to us. Prince declines any drink offer, till some Brandy comes around. It is medicine someone says and he takes a big gulp, which ends up in a quarter of the bottle, Prince fast asleep and the fat cat purring on top of his tummy.
So I lost Prince for the night by the looks of it.
But another feline gal took over right away...


Without my Prince I feel first a bit lost, but then enjoy the company, the red and the food and sometime, around 3 am, I figure I am sloshed.
Where did my good resolution, of drinking less in 2010, already go?
I wake Prince, or I think I did and somehow we get home.


I WILL NEVER EVER DRINK AGAIN!!!