There are some recipes that stop you in your tracks and require few words. This is one of them – a ‘genius recipe’ in the new column by Kristen Miglore, senior editor at food52.com where weekly, great recipes are unearthed from the worlds cookbooks.
This recipe thrilled me to no end because
Desserts
Strike a pose and fancy yourself English. Do you? Do you? Then say posset.
When Macbeth asked for a posset to be prepared for him before going to bed he referred to a curdled milk drink, popular in his time. It was considered a specific remedy for some minor illnesses, such as a cold, and a general remedy for others, as even today people drink hot milk to help them get to sleep.
I can’t recall when exactly I learnt or heard of root beer but as I stood by the table, ready to pay for a drink and burger at the annual 4th of July ceremony for ‘Americans in the Hague & environs’, something clicked and I reached for a can, not without asking the guy on the other side if root beer tasted like ‘ginger beer’. To which his response was ‘no’.
To all mothers and motherly figures:
To those who have transitioned From rebellious teenager To responsible parent Without any training in between Ride on…..with greased elbows And joyous hearts For the smile of a child Wipes many tears awayOz, 8th May, 2011
Happy Mother’s Day! May your offspring have a strong legacy, which embraces everything you are and wish for them!
A home full of guests was how we planned this holiday – friends from Houston would pot sunshine and Texas steaks, stuffing them in bulging blue Samsonite cases, while friends from Nigeria would come armed with Kilishi (Nigerian beef jerky) and peppered plantain chips; we, in the Netherlands would provide the snow, sleighs and bells.
We, the adults would stay up late every single night, kids tucked in bed, talking, chatting and laughing till ribs ached and tummies hurt, and then we would head to bed at 3am, fully aware that 8am wake ups would be part of the ‘rising-with-the-sun’ routine.
‘Children of Nowadays’, as we Nigerians would say, exasperated or marveling at some stroke of childhood genius…or not. Sometimes, hand on large African hips, an adult finger would point back at child… inquiring and seeking confirmation.
Welcome to my winter wonderland. After two years, my brolly wants to become a parachute, lured by the attraction of stormy weather, when autumn’s golden leaves slowly dance, passing the baton on to pretty bare branches and gusts of snow.
When I think of orchards, I always see sunshine, blue skies and windfalls – loads of apples littered about the base of a big, tree with wide branches and leafy greens somewhere in Italia. I see grandpa with his golfer’s hat, sitting at the table, his elbows resting on the red and white gingham tablecloth while his wife, grandma works with her hands and voice, giving instruction to the rest of her crew on which apples should go where, for what and by when. The whole scene is wrapped in family fun and laughter.
So imagine my excitement when my daughter’s class had a trip to an apple orchard planned. I volunteered to go straight away. Read more…
Red. I love red. I wear red in winter, to outcry from my very western-world colleagues. But I offer no apologies. I like the passion, the romance and the strength of crimson and cerise hues. However, I wasn’t prepared for the sight that confronted me at a meeting last Thursday afternoon. This was an office gathering of leaders and future leadership, myself inclusive
(Ha!). I wore a red sweater to cover up my striped navy blue and white camisole, very nautical. I walked into the meeting room, one of the first to arrive. Shortly after a lady walked up in a red jacket over a black and white dress. A few minutes after, yet another lady, a leader this time came in, red beaded necklace, red jacket and red lipstick to go. By the time the room was full with 50 odd people, a cursory survey round the room showed there were a total of 7 women wearing red! I was completely SHOCKED. And it got me thinking about why we were all dressed in the same colour. Of course there were women in every shade of other colour from black to brown, grey and green but the ‘reds’ stood out and in my small mind, I think it was obvious that we had a statement to make.
It’s all about timing, life is. I am often shocked at the ‘coincidences’ that take place. Mind you, I don’t believe at all in coincidence, I am more a fan of the law of attraction. Me, food, you, we happy.












