Quaintr

The thing I didn't dare to say today:

"It's not your fault, they should have fired you a week ago." (Ocean's Thirteen)

Millions of books have been written about this subject, well, maybe not millions but at least a fair few. With lovely tips and tricks how to run your house smoothly and please your hubby...

Well, I'm def not one of the most organised of people... (therefore the books are still on my reading list) Esp not when it comes to cleaning (although i've got some kind of ocd re kitchens and bathrooms). So, the other day, when my longtime friend asked me 'i couldn't control myself and had a peek into your room... does it always looks like this?' 'ehm... yes' 'wow, that's soooo good!' I really felt proud...

As an example how their marketing works, take Liga (the biscuits kids take to school every day as a 'healthy' snack). Did you know the Liga Milkbreak biscuits contain more kcal, more sugars, more fats (of which are more unsaturated fats) and less fibers than Lay's baked potato chips? (Thanks to Gerrit Jan.)

Back to the truth about food... how do you know what is good for you if the industry keeps lying to you has a strong marketing department? Simple. You already know. Your body knows. Just listen.

For the ones that need a bit more than just yourself to define the food-industry's marketing department, there are books (warning .pdf) which try to explain the things the commercials have left out...

"Ha-ha-ha"

"Am I just as funny as you?"

Okay, a few weeks ago i told a guy, who wanted to know if our anti-wrinkle cream was any good, that i couldn't wait till i got wrinkles... he looked at me in disbelieve. Then i received this: (yes, it's another one but i still should be studying)

"Old age, I decided, is a gift.

I am now, probably for the first time in my in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror, but I don't agonize over those things for long. I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly.

As I've aged, I've become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend.

I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant.

I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 am and sleep until noon?

I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60&70's, and if I, at the same time, with to weep over a lost love... I will.

I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set.

They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful. but there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things.

Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have ny youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face.

So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.

As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think.

I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day. (If I feel like it)"

By cutting our meat consumption to practically zero, eating mostly what's in season and buying organic food whenever we have the choice, we thought we were doing our share to help the environment... you know "verbeter de wereld begin bij jezelf." But we missed something... we don't buy local food.

Apparently (and kinda logically when you think of it) there are hidden ecological, social and economic consequences of food production, which is made comprehendable for the brainless consumers by calculating 'food miles.' Put simply, food miles are the measure of the distance a food travels from field to plate. This travel adds substantially to the carbon dioxide emissions that are contributing to climate change - which is why food miles matter.

However, it's not just about imported food and traveled miles, it's about centralised systems of supermarkets that have taken over from local and regional markets (using centralised depots and transporting systems), it's about the way the food processing industry works (ingredients travel around the country from factory to factory, before they make their way to the shops), it's about comparative labour costs (British fish is now sent to China for processing, then sent back to the UK to be sold), it's about us travelling further for our shopping (using the car more often to do it) and it's about waste (which must be transported from your home to a landfill site). It's not about calculating every mile your food has travelled, it's about thinking logically when you go shopping. Use some kind of energy-labeled-food-calender, or buy what's in season.

But, what to do when you're surrounded by 30 miles of habitation and no farmers? It takes a whole lot of food miles (by car) to get a potato...

It's not somekind of unknown vegetable. It's cooking of unknown complexity.

He's confined to bed for the last couple of days and asked me to bring him 'something' to ease his heartburn. As a medical student I learned you should advice your patients to adjust their diet and lifestyle, and prescribe a plain antacid (e.g. calcium carbonate better known as rennie). If the antacid doesn't work properly, you can prescribe a H2-receptor antagonist (e.g. ranitidine). Due to the wide availability of these antacids, GP's are currently adviced to skip the antacids and start with a H2-receptor antagonist right away to relief symptoms and prevent future heartburn. 

But I'm not his GP, so I decided I would just get 'something' from the local drugstore. And indeed, they sell rennie's. But to my horror, on the shelf next to the rennie's is Zantac... also known as ranitidine! What should we do next? Give everybody pantoprazol right away?

"Sorry," he says, drifting around the corner, just missing my ankles. He gives his wheels another push.

"No worries, it doesn't matter, I could just avoid you."

"No, it does. One shouldn't drive pretty ladies off the road."

"Well, thank you!"

Find the differences (transl.: 'zoek de verschillen'):

• the original
  
• the media

When i found a 3x1mm piece of bone poking into my gums on Sunday i thought that was it. That was the piece of bone that had been causing the inflammation for the past 3 months. This morning i had the feeling something was stuck between my molars and cheek, but i couldn't get it out. So i waited... Till just a moment ago. Another piece of bone surfaced. 6x2mm this time. Mmmm... no wonder it was giving my so much grieve...

Now i'm wondering if this was all, or might there be even more?

(I'm still not allowed to write a lot and won't be till next week... So therefore a 'forward mail') 

"This is should probably be taped to your bathroom mirror where one could read it everyday. You may not realise it, but it's 100% true.

1. There are at least two people in this world that you would die for.
2. At least 15 people in this world love you in some way.
3. The only reason anyone would ever hate you is because they want to be just like you.
4. A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don't like you.
5. Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep.
6. You mean the world to someone.
7. You are special and unique.
8. Someone that you don't even know exists loves you.
9. When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good comes from it.
10. When you think the world has turned its back on you take another look.
11. Always remember the compliments you received. Forget about the rude remarks."

(and then, of course, after a few nice quotes it starts to go on about sending this to all your friends...)

Last time I bought a piece of vegetable I hadn't used before, it turned out to be quite delicious. So this morning, when I saw something that resembled a far and distant cousin of last weeks' swede, I decided I should have a go (again). It turned out to be a celeriac. And because I absolutely hate celery, this can be quite interesting.

To spread the risk of failure (or something tasting like celery) I want to make three different dishes, among which are going to be two soups (as said... soups are easy, soups are delicious, soups can't fail) and a quiche. Using the internet, I discovered celeriac combines well with mushrooms, carrots, leeks and broccoli. The idea's of a mushroom, leek & celeriac quiche, a celeriac & carrot soup and a broccoli & celeriac soup are born. And a couple of hours later, so did the dishes itself.

Preparations: cut a carrot, a couple of broccoli-flowers, two small unions, two cloves of garlic, a small leek and a couple of mushrooms. Cut the celeriac in small dices just before you're going to use it (otherwise it'll go bitter on you, according the internet.) Warning: the celeriac smells like celery when you cut it... did I already mention I absolutely hate celery? 

Celeriac has a taste a bit similar to celery but not as overwelming. Quite edible and very filling...

"Queck, what's with all the posts on TV-series? What's happened to 'tv makes your brain melt', 'turn the tv off and you've loads of time on your hands' and 'books are always better'? Did you lose your religion?"

No. I didn't. But there are things books can't do and TV can.

1. A book can't feature David Duchovny or David Boreanaz. *grin*
2. You can't read a book while chopping vegetables for eight men.
3. Rolling on the floor laughing while reading a book is rare.
4. You can't skip twenty pages to make some tea and still get the plot.
5. Books can't shut down my brain, they just make me think about other things for a while.
   

See? In rare cases, a TV can be a good thing. And confined to the couch (resting my legs after a very exhausting but extremely pleasureful Boschbal) watching reruns of all time favourite TV-series is a great way to kill time (and braincells.)

The ladies prefer (parts of) dead people.

The men prefer the badge.

The ladies are skeptical and scientific.

The men are psycological and communicative.

The FBI.

In the series or out, relationship counseling is required.

A relationship between the two would never work.

Ehm. Am I the only one who sees the remarkable resemblance between a old favourite and a new favourite?

But it's kinda safe inside...

What do you do when you've bought a piece of vegetable (or at least you think it's a vegetable) and you've got absolutely no idea what to do with it? You make a soup... soups are easy. Soups are delicious. Soups can't fail.

Chop one union, the piece of vegetable (which turned out the be a swede) and a clove of garlic. Saute the union and the chopped swede, add the garlic and a liter of vegetable stock. Simmer gently for 20 minutes. Add some ginger, preferably fresh, and some pepper. Use some type of foodprocessor (I've used a blender) to puree the soup. You'll end up with something that resembles baby-food, but is quite tasty. Serve with a splash of cream and some parsley.

Okay, i've now got something very new to tell you about (and it'll hopefully provide me with something to write about over the next 10 wks or so). It's my new course, since i haven't been busy enough... It'll prob be more like another rant to be honest...

So today it arrived. It's a big folder. i skimmed through it and it looks really nice. But there are some envelops enclosed, and it says on the accompanying form that these need to be used for the questionnaires at the end of the chapters... but there are no questionnaires... adding to this, there are only 9 chapters, but i've got 15 envelopes... So what am i to do? I personally think they've changed the course around a bit (since i've got an extra diskette CD with q's) but have forgotten to adjust this. Or maybe i'm just making a mountain out of a molehill...

"Congratulations on your son's birthday!"

"Ehm... my son?"

"Yeah, your son."

"But if he is my son, does that mean i'm your daughter?"

"No, you're not my daughter. You're my ... You're my ..."

"Granddaughter? So could it be he is my brother?"

*Looks at me with a raised eyebrow*

"Yeah, sounds plausible."

I tend to ignore people whilst travelling by train. Okay, fair enough, not completely ignore. I always have a look around who else is in the carriage with me. But after i've had a peek around, i start reading again. In this particular instance, there was an oldish lady next to me and a rather good-looking bloke sitting opposite me (incl. wedding ring). Normally i don't talk to people either, but when we were told the train would terminate and he asked me if he could follow me we started to chat about 'trivial' things like the environment and global warming, that resulted in the following articles from '04 and '07. It explains why there's a lag between temperature rise and CO₂ levels (this had bothered me for a while, but i hadn't come round to look it up).

Moral of the story: neither strangers nor the delays on national rail are always a bad thing to happen to you...

He faces her, takes a good look at her and says: "Many people do. I'm loved all over the world."

Wine tasters do it. They taste it so that wine can be categorised, identified, and described. Despite of taste being subjective, they do tend to agree in their own specific language. Could the same be done for herbs? I believe that it can. I believe that one will be able to better understand one's remedies. I would even go dare to state that one can taste the basic properties and constituents.

Why not try it yourself?

Just make a standard strength tea and brew it for 3-5 mins. Sit down in a quiet place and write down the taste, shape, colour, sound, texture, movement, temperature. Also write down where in the body it is felt. The feeling it gives you, and its general character...

A few examples:
If it's very astringent there might be quite a lot of tannins present and it will be drying.
If it tastes round, full, soft, the herb might have a lot of demulcent properties (mucilage/polysaccharides).
A bitter taste will stimulate digestive secretions and might be due to several components including iridoids, alkaloids, and/or anthraquinones.
Polysaccharides and saponins might taste sweet - often related to tonics.
Minerals will taste salty/metallic.
Resins feel sticky/binding.
And one can smell and taste the volatile oils.

Have fun!

It's dark green and silent, a temporary replacement for the old one. It's about half his age, the difference is remarkable. At first, this difference resulted in some heavy emotional moments between the two of us...

The old one opened his bright eyes automatically, the green one needs to be turned on manically... so I forgot them at thirst and when I remembered (some huncking cars helped with the remembering-part) I couldn't find the damn switch, so I tried them all until I saw some light. The old one stopped when you let go of the exelerator, this one just keeps on driving until you hit the brake... which led to a couple of close encounters with other vehicles. And let's not begin to compare the turning radius, it's a whole new shortcut!

But this green-thing is quite nice when you get to know it. You can steer with one finger, park with one finger (and it fits in half the space of the old one!) and it has got a whole lot more power... vroemmm.

It felt strange and uncomfortable. I know he's not wanted, he's old and slow, his reliability is questionable. So he'll probable be safe, no one will hurt him. But he was my first and it feels strange to leave him all alone.

A few things in life are unavoidable. But one is able to put them in the back of one's mind and forget about them. Like i did. A year after i left i got a letter from HMRC... ehm... oops? Luckily everything turned out right by just sending them my "i've-left-the-country-form". Pfew...

'Au! Why did you do that?'

'I was hungry,' said our oldest lady with a nervous smile, 'fancied a bit of a bite.'

'But that's my arm!'

'Sorry.'

Twice a year we embark on a social adventure. This time she put on his xmas CD and i started to sing along (so they put the CD off again). She makes jokes, he tries to keep his face straight (didn't succeed today). Once we're where we need to be, we 'fight' about who's allowed to be the 1st one (normally it's me). Once we're all done, we get back into the car and drive somewhere to have some cake. And we'll have to wait for another 6 months again.

P.S. my non-wisdom-tooth is still bad, but he said i just have to be patient, keep the fistula opened up and wait till 'it' surfaces...

It didn't use to be this way. I was the one leaving the country. Sometimes reluctantly, sometimes happy to leave. I wasn't always looking forward to get back to this country either. But over the past year i've been able to call it 'home' again, despite feeling 'home-sick' for times long past occasionally. So it felt very strange picking him up from the airport, and even more odd to drop him off again...

It does provide a different perspective though...

Using almost all the leftovers, I cooked a nice (purple) risotto today. And because a friend of mine asked for the recipe, we keep it in the new year's eve style.

You start with sauteing an union, mushrooms and some garlic. Add rice (I don't use special risotto rice, but normal brown rice) and cook until the rice squeecks. Puree two boiled red beets with some vegetable stock until you have about one liter of mixture. Silence the squeecking rice with the mixture, but add little bits at the time and keep on stirring. The risotto is done when the rice is cooked. Chop a red beetroot and heat with the risotto. Add a splash of cream if wanted.

To serve, I use a bit of arugola, some grated cheese and a thin pesto.

(Originally the recipe is from McDonald's Kitchen, but I've absolutely know idea if my version still resembles his.)

Most people that know me are aware of the fact that i tend to have a go at the ads about fat. Cos i have the feeling they are misleading the public... Use unsaturated fat for cooking. Yeah, that's true, but it needs to be mono-unsaturated fat cos the poly-unsaturated ones will become carcinogenic when heated. But they forget to mention that... Plus they keep saying that saturated fat is bad for you. Well, that's not necessarily the case (from my point of view). Better put some real butter on your butty instead of margerine (which contains trans fats)... So i was very happy when some people on one of the lists i'm on provided the following links:

Big fat lies

The McGovern Report

Dr Malcolm Kendrick: Part 1; Cholesterol, Part 2; Familial Hypercholesterolaemia, Part 3; About Statins, Part 4; Heart Disease, Part 5; CVD populations.

Next book on my list is this book, and if you have some time to spare watch this webcast (it's on obesity)

Have fun watching and i'm curious about what you think about it!

The three of us (me with two of my closed friends) created a honest, vegetarian, home-cooked, nine course winter dinner for six. Food made with lots of love and laughter, and you could taste it.

We started with a sweet pear and brie melt, served with a walnut. Very simple to do, just peel and slice the pear, decorate the pear with a small piece of brie, place in the oven until the brie is melted and add the walnut. (Sorry, I forgot to take a picture.)

The cold appetizer was a buckwheat blini served with a caviar of red beets. For the blini's mix 140 gr of buckwheat with 1,5 dl of milk, a spoon of sugar, a spoon of salt, 7 gr of yeast and two egg yolks. Let it rise for an hour. Beat the egg whites and stir with a spoonful of sour cream trough the mixture. Bake the blini's. For the caviar, puree 250 gr of beets (boiled), finely chop 50 gr of walnuts, 2 cloves of garlic and 5 plums (which has been seasoned with 3 tablespoons of cognac). Mix all and add the juice of half a lemon to taste. Serve with a blob of sour cream and a sprig of dill.

For a soup, we made a pumpkin soup with ginger, served in a small wine glass. Originally the recipe called for a butternut squash, which was nowhere to be found so we used a piece of pumpkin instead. First, you saute on medium onion and 2 cloves of garlic in butter or oil for 5 minutes, without browning. Add the pumpkin (about 700 gram), ginger juice (about 10 ml), nutmeg and a little seasoning. Cover and continue to cook for a further 10 minutes stirring occasionally to prevent browning. Add 900 ml of vegetable stock, bring to the boil and simmer for 20 minutes or until the pumpkin is tender. Puree the soup. Garnish with a blob of creme fraiche.

Next was a small goatscheese tart with cranberry's and thyme. Cut circles (7,5 cm) out of puff pastry, and draw smaller circles (5 cm) to make sure you get a nice edge of pastry on your tart. In the small circle, place a spoonful of cranberry compote, a slice of goatscheese and some fresh thyme. Bake for 5 minutes in a hot oven (200 degrees), let it cool for a couple of minutes and serve with rucola.

The intermezzo was a granite made of (a good) red wine, with rosemary and sea salt. The combination is an explosion on the tongue, so don't serve more than three spoonfuls per person.

Although it does take some time to make, it's very easy. Heat 250 ml of red wine (in our case a gato negro), with 4 tablespoons of sugar and 1/4 tablespoon of sea salt. When the sugar is resolved, add a tablespoon of orange juice and a finely chopped sprig of rosemary. Freeze the mixture for 2 hours and stir with a fork to brake the cristals-to-be. Freeze again and stir every hour until the wanted consistency (takes about six hours in total). Serve with little sprigs of rosemary.

The main course was a bit of a challenge, as it's a dish usually served in our favourite restaurant (Groenland). (Not the simplest thing to try.) But using their recipe we recreated it at home: a parfait of parsnips, served with a gravy of cantharel, a rosti of sweet potato and a ravioli of lentils. Honestly, their chef did a better job for the eyes, but our taste buts didn't notice a difference!

For dessert we made a trio of chocolate: a creme brulee of white chocolate, sorbet icecream of milk chocolate served with a coulis of red fruit and a mocca tart with dark chocolate (also known as "black brick".) The combination of small quantities of white, milk and dark chocolate all with different structures (a velvet creme brulee, a cold tinkling sorbet and a heavy tart) creates an orgasm of the taste buts.

But it's a whole lot of work... first the sorbet and the coulis. Melt 100 gr of suger in 700 ml water and melt 100 gr of milk chocolate au-bain-marie. Mix these two together, cool and pour in a ice machine for 30 minutes. Freeze until dinner. For the coulis, warm red fruit with a bit of sugar. Strain through a fine sive and cool. Second, the mocca tart with dark chocolate: mix 175 gr of flower, 1/2 spoon of baking powder, 50 gr cacao powder, 50 gr of sugar, 140 gr of butter and 3 egg yolks until you have a dough. This dough has to be blind baked (?), with beans and cling film, to prevent burning (180 degrees, 15 minutes). Now you can make the filling, melt 175 gr of dark chocolate au-bain-marie and cool. Mix 100 gr of butter and 100 gr of sugar, add 2 eggs, an egg yolk, 25 gr of flower, 2 spoons of espresso and (last!) the chocolate. Bake for 25 minutes on 150 degrees. Finally the creme brulee: heat 5,5 dl cream, 100 gr of white chocolate and 1 spoon of vanilla extract au-bain-marie until chocolate is melted. Cool. Mix 6 egg yolks and 2 tabelspoons of brown sugar. When the mixtures have the same temperature (!), stir together. Strain through a sive and pour in ramekins. Put the ramekins in something oven-proof (a roasting pan) and pour hot water around the ramekins. Bake for 15 minutes on 140 degrees until the creme brulee is just set, but still trembling in the middle. Cool for at least four hours. Remove the creme brulee from the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes prior to serving, spread a spoonful of sugar evenly on every top, using a torch, melt the sugar. Allow to cool to form a crispy top.

You can't serve a full course dinner without cheese, so we had a small selection of good Dutch cheeses (an old cheese, a young one with nettle, a leftover from christmas and a blue one) served with home-made fig-jam.

We ended with an espresso (or cappucino) and still room for one of the 15 oliebollen, 30 applebeignets, 16 bananabeignets or 8 pineapplebeignets...

Eet smakelijk!