Another December
day. Another sourdough loaf, without a cat:
I haven’t had a
report from Helen yet – I gave it to her, after our walk – but it looks all
right. I don’t normally keep bread in the house, for fear of eating too much butter,
but perhaps I’ll make myself a loaf for Christmas, so that I can make sandwiches
of my expensive black chicken. That used to be the part of Thanksgiving I
enjoyed the most, turkey sandwiches. And Fred will make and enclose some
mayonnaise with my chicken. (That’s interesting about black chickens in
Chinatown, Sarah.)
There’s nothing in
that loaf except flour and water and salt. How magical the sourdough process
must have seemed when discovered in the stone age (and, indeed, still seems to
me). Likewise the fermentation of wine and brewing of beer. No wonder Ceres and
Bacchus were revered as gods.
Knitting
I’ve actually done
some – finished off the first Evendoon sleeve, started the second. Perhaps a
picture tomorrow. Congratulations on yours, Ivy!
Kate Davies’
pattern for the club last weekend was a cosy-looking pair of slippers with
braid around the ankle. The essay was about braid-making, with a number of
interesting possibilities. This really has been a super club – I think there’s
one more week to go. I greatly look forward to the book.
AND I’ve sent off
for yarn for a hap for one of the new great-grandchild. I got it all from
Uradale Farm this time (where I have been, on my Yarn Adventure last year). No
symbolism, just colours I liked. I’ll spread it all out and photograph it for
you when it arrives. I’m encouraged to see that last year’s hap, started not
long before Christmas, was finished by the end of January (see sidebar).
I notice that the
Queen is expecting another great-grandchild at about the same time: the child
of Princess Anne’s daughter Zara Phillips, as was, and former England rugby
star Mike Tindall. Like my grandson Thomas and his wife Lucy, the Tindalls have
two daughters and make no secret of wanting a boy.
Christmas
That’s a delicious
article about bread sauce, Mary Lou (link with comment yesterday). It almost
moved me to plan on making some – it’s very easy – but Helen says she will
bring me some when she comes to administer my walk on Christmas Day. I’ll give
her some cranberry sauce.
I didn't join the club, but I'll watch for Kate's book. I thought of you yesterday Jean. I was listening to a new podcast episode of Melvyn Bragg on Gerard Manley Hopkins. All I ever knew was that he was a Jesuit priest whose work was published posthumously, and that we had to read Pied Beauty because the author was a priest. Such a disservice.
ReplyDeleteThat's a terrific rise on your loaf! And is that a tape measure hanging from your Aga? I've been puzzling over the black chicken, and I wonder if it's analogous to the brown egg--something that feels special but in fact may or may not be?
ReplyDeleteChicken sandwiches! I have softened a bit. I know other people who can taste differences I don't notice, so possibly there is something subtly different about the taste of black chickens. I know I taste a difference between chicken eggs and quail eggs (less sulfur, I think).
ReplyDelete