Julia Slaughter

Posts Tagged ‘Food’

Yesterday I woke up and opened the door to let the dogs out and I braced myself for the worse. I was prepared for the heat to wrap itself around me like a damp hot towel, and instead I was pleasantly surprised when cool crisp air welcomed me. I stepped out in the cold dark morning  in my bare feet and night gown and reveled in that feeling that perhaps Fall is finally here. I drove to work with my windows down and stopped by Starbucks to indulge myself with a Spiced Pumpkin Latte, which sounds horrible but is absolutely delightful! It’s deliciously Fall, in a way that can only be eclipsed by the smell of freshly baked Pumpkin Bread.The five day forecast promises more of this Fall weather, and I refuse to look past those days in case there’s an Indian Summer lurking around the corner.

I love Fall, like some people seem to love Spring. I long to go home and open the windows and let the fresh air in to touch all the dark and shadowy corners that have been untouched since Summer set in around me. I long to fire up the oven and make Pumpkin Bread and warm soups and stews with savory smells. I wish I had a hammock and I would spend the day in the dappled sunshine, reading and napping to my heart’s content. I just love this time of year.

I think for other people Fall is the threat that Winter is coming, but for me it’s the promise of Winter. I love Winter too. Of course I live in a part of the country where Winter is pretty mild, there’s no snowstorms to keep us home bound, in fact there’s hardly any snow at all. (Every few years we get an inch or so.) Fall and Winter bring some of my favorite holidays – Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and of course Mardi Gras.

Sadly, I’m at work so instead of getting to enjoy this beautiful Fall day, I’m sitting at a desk day dreaming but in my heart I’m in a hammock with a book in my hand, dozing off.

Before I roll up my sleeves and get into this, I should tell you – I’ve never been to England, or anywhere else where they have teatime in earnest. I’ve always liked the way it sounds though. I imagine lovely teas with dainty sandwiches and small but decadent desserts, served on beautiful and elegant dishes. I don’t know that I was much on Tea Parties when I was a little girl but as I’ve grown up to appreciate food and the insight it offers to different cultures, I’ve always thought it would be interesting to participate in tea time.

Over the weekend, I got my chance as there was a celebration at the Shamrock, Rose, and Thistle Tea Room. Ironically I drive by this little gem several times a week and I had no idea where it was until Saturday! However, it’s a lovely little building set back off a busy road and when you pull back into the parking lot you feel like you’re crossing a threshold where all of life’s problems are left behind, it’s lovely.

The table I sat at was beautifully set, but I was thrilled to notice that each place setting was very distinctive and though they weren’t all uniform there was a certain beauty in the mismatched place settings. I liked my place setting the best!

We tried an iced tea and a hot tea, and sadly I’ve already forgotten the name of the hot tea. For the iced tea we had a white tea called Strawberry Seduction. We got it sweetened and I was pleased to discover despite the fact that we were in the South, it wasn’t Southern sweet tea where there is so much sugar in it that it almost overpowers the taste of the actual tea. It was light and refreshing, absolutely wonderful.

Just as we were settling into our teas, they brought out the tea fare or as I liked to call it – the Tower of Treats!

On the bottom level, they had scones – a traditional raisin and pralines and cream for the other two. I went for the traditional raisin with the lemon curd on it, it was amazing. I felt that the scones were heavier and more dense than biscuits, but in a wonderful and pleasant way. I also used the lemon curd on it and thought that was amazing! I loved the light lemon taste and the gentle creamy texture.

I sadly cannot tell you what a single of the savory sandwhiches were in the middle were, I should’ve been paying closer attention I suppose. There was a quiche with broccoli and cheese which I passed on (I’m not one for broccoli) but my companions found delightful. There was one sandwhich with Roast Beef and Cream Cheese on it, that I tried and enjoyed. There was a third sandwhich which had three pieces of bread and colorful spreads in between each layer. I think one of the layers was something with a beat. The flavor was so delicate I couldn’t really place it. The final tier was desset, and I’m a total loss for what I ate! There was something with puff pastry and a delicate shell with some sort of mousse in it. Quite frankly, I could’ve just had scones and been perfectly satisfied. (Clearly since I paid very little attention to anything else!)

I know growing up in New Orleans there were places that had high tea, but I was too young to appreciate that kind of thing, I wish I had taken advantage of those places now. I wonder if there are places like this all over, but I just never noticed them until now? I also wonder how authentic my tea experience was. I did like the slogan of Shamrock, Rose, and Thistle – British Tradition with a Southern Accent. If you’re ever in my neck of the woods – you should check them out!

http://www.shamrockroseandthistle.com/index.asp

I have a confession – I am a food blog junkie. I’ve never really got into reading blogs, in their infancy I would find someone interesting, read along for a while and then inevitably they would stop updating or they would go somewhere that I couldn’t follow and I would stop reading. I haven’t really paid much attention to this whole blogging thing since the late 1990′s, which is ironic I suppose since now I’m writing one.

I was first called back into blogs by some of my favorite authors – George RR Martin and Neil Gaiman offered a unique window into their world and their lives through their blogs. (Even though GRRM maintains that his is NOT a blog.) I look forward to Neil Gaiman’s updates on his beehives with genuine interest. I admit that sometimes George RR Martin dips into politics which I find rather dull, I do like hearing about his travels with his wife and following along with one of my favorite series.

I don’t remember how it happened but one day I stumbled across a food blog and I felt like I had found buried treasure. I liked seeing real pictures of food that people had cooked, not super beautiful glamor shots that make me feel inadequate when my food doesn’t look like the picture in the book. I liked real recipes that acknowledge that perhaps after a full day at work I might need a recipe that can be prepared in under an hour.

Many food blogs are all linked together and so from that first blog, I went on to another site, and then another. I loved seeing what different people were cooking, and I was fascinated when I found food blogs written by people from other ethnic backgrounds. They use exotic ingredients I’ve never heard of but the bowls of shimmery green soup are intriguing.

I suppose it was a natural evolution for me to start reading food blogs, I’ve fallen in love with Ruth Reichl’s books about food. I love that she tells you something touching and personal and then punctuates those stories with recipes from her personal kitchen. My mouth waters at the way she describes food – it’s wonderful. She really made me start paying attention to what I was eating, not just how it tasted but the textures and the experience of what I was easting.

I’d like to tell you that at some point in time I’d venture to share my recipes and pictures of my concoctions here with you, but the truth is – that’s not really the way I cook. I usually start with a base recipe and then I twist it around until I’m no longer even bothering to measure anymore. I could never tell anyone how to make my Crawfish Pie, I merely get into the kitchen and make it, I need someone else to follow behind me and write down what I pick up and put in there.

Now that I’ve started this it’s really got me thinking…I wonder what’s for dinner?

I had hoped to have a nice blog post today with pictures of beautiful and fresh produce, but alas the best laid plans of Mice and Men…

After almost two weeks of eating complete and utter garbage, first splurging on vacation and then going through refrigerator drama, I was looking forward to getting back into the kitchen. In fact I wanted to reclaim the kitchen in style and I had dreams of cooking beautiful fresh vegetables. In fact, I didn’t just want vegetables – I wanted fresh, locally grown Farmer’s Market vegetables.

I’m not sure if my desire for fresh locally grown veggies came from hanging out with my friends in California or if it came from thinking about driving down back roads and seeing guys outside with a pick up truck, loaded down with home grown tomatoes and cucumbers, but the desire to hit the Farmer’s Market was strong with me. The knowledge that there was one just down the road from my house made it that much more appealing.

Sunday, I embarked on my unsuccessful quest. The lesson I learned is that just because something is setup on the side of the road and calls itself a “Farmer’s Market” doesn’t mean that what’s inside is home grown goodness. Perhaps I should’ve realized something was amiss when I stepped out of the parking lot into utter darkness, I can’t say that the market was a store, but it was more than just a road side stand.

It took a minute for my eyes to adjust so I stepped to some shelves, out of the way. I was expecting to find some homemade goodies but instead there are faded and peeling labels that indicate I am standing in front of a wall of mass produced and seriously out of date sorghum. Not a promising start…it got worse for me, as I walked through the straw that broke the camels back was the same bagged carrots you can get at the super market. No, this was not good at all. At the end of my inspection I determined that there were in fact homegrown tomatoes and perhaps melons there, everything else was the same stuff that you can get at the grocery store except it had been sitting in a less climate controlled and let’s face it – a less clean environment.

Before I ended up in the grocery store, where I inevitably ended up, I actually took a ten mile drive up rustic highway 98 but to no avail – there wasn’t even a guy with a pick up truck hanging out for me to buy any locally grown vegetables from.

For lunch today I’m having some lovely brussel sprouts, I couldn’t tell you where they were grown but I know this – I didn’t feel like I was participating in a back alley drug deal when I bought them.