One year ago today, Ze Boy graduated to the status of Ze Husband, and I became the third Catherine Prady in the family (a potentially confusing situation, but it hasn't posed any particular problems so far). It all still seems a bit surreal- the wedding part, at least. Marriage itself is (reassuringly) very real, even without the Squidlet kicking me in the ribs periodically to remind me...
(Warning: Those averse to mloo-mlee-mlooting might wish to look away now).
This has been the best year of my life so far, and I'm looking forward, God willing, to a lot more like it. Yes, marriage means adjustments. Yes, it means I have to change my ideas of what constitutes an acceptable level of tidy in our office, and, generally, put up with all that stuff that comes with LIVING WITH A BOY. But I will always have someone to whinge at when things aren't going according to plan, someone to make food for, and someone to discuss the finer points of ninja shrimp with. I will always know that at least one other person on the planet understands the decidedly peculiar way my brain works and, even more surprisingly, won't run away screaming in terror or call the men in white coats.
This time last year, I signed on for a lifetime of this, and I don't regret it one single bit.
Showing posts with label ze husband. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ze husband. Show all posts
Sunday, 25 September 2011
Tuesday, 30 November 2010
Parsnips. And soup. So parsnip soup, then.
The French, until recently, didn't know about parsnips. Well, the majority of them didn't anyway.
I actually taught ze husband the French word for parsnip, which is panais (N.B. to be pronounced as "pané", not "pannayiece". Thank you for understanding).
Being English and, moreover, northern, I am well acquainted with most root vegetables, and parsnips are nothing unusual. That doesn't mean to say I like them. I acutally have something of a loathing for roast parsnips, in particular. There's just something about the sweetness that I don't like. If they were being blatantly and unashamedly sweet, like sweet potatoes (especially the kind with marshmallows on top, om nom nom), that would be fine, but...no, they try to be subtle, and as ze husband keeps telling me, "trop de subtilité tue la subtilité".
There is one way I like parsnips, though, and that's in soup. I made parsnip soup for ze in-laws a couple of weeks ago and they liked it, too. (It was actually them who bought the parsnips, having discovered some lurking in an obscure corner of the supermarket veg aisle. All is not lost).
I think a recipe may be in order, don't you? (I'm not sure where "order" is, mind. Let me know if you find it).
Ingredients (to feed 6. Maybe. It depends on how hungry they are).
Parsnips say...6 really big ones, or 8-10 smaller ones
Stock -about a litre. Homemade or not. I don't really care. I don't actually think it makes that much difference (ok, ok, burn me, I'm a food heretic. Whatever. It's cold outside, anyway).
Olive oil -a good drizzling sort of amount.
Onions- a few. (No, I didn't say ANYTHING about my recipe being precise)
A potato or two -if you want, and depending on how parsnippy you like your soup. Potatoes dilute the parsnippiness a bit and make the parsnips go further if you think you might be a bit short. (I'm a bit short. Just not of parsnips).
Curry powder - eh, a bit. We'll think about how much when we get to it).
Seasoning
Preheat oven to GM7/200°c. If you use Fahrenheit, go and turn on the computer and look up the conversion.
Peel and chop parsnips, onions and potatoes. Big or small chunks, batons or slices, whatever makes you happy. It's all going to get liquidised later anyway. Put vegetables on baking tray, drizzle with a decent amount of olive oil, stick in oven for about an hour (but keep an eye on them after the first 30 minutes, if they start to burn around the edges reduce the temperature). During this time, go away and translate something, or write a blog post, or have a nap. Or something.
Take vegetables out of oven and put in Big Saucepan. Pour on stock. The liquid should just cover the vegetables. If it doesn't, add a bit more boiling water. No-one will mind.
Let it cook for a bit until the vegetables are all properly soft. Liquidise, either using a handheld blender in the pan or in small batches in a freestanding blender. If you're anything like me, have a fight with the blender, splatter half the kitchen with soup, clean it up and then start again with the blending.
Put soup back in pan. Add salt and pepper to taste and one dessert spoon of curry powder (or cumin, if you have cumin. Nom nom cumin). Stir. Taste. Add more curry as necessary. I think I ended up putting around 3 dessert spoons in mine. Maybe.
Eat soup and feel like a paragon of healthy eating. Or a tarragon of healthy eating. Or an Aragorn of healthy eating, if that's what takes your fancy (note the absence of Legolas here. If we were talking about elfy eating, maybe he'd be around. But we're not).
Happy parsnip hunting!
I actually taught ze husband the French word for parsnip, which is panais (N.B. to be pronounced as "pané", not "pannayiece". Thank you for understanding).
Being English and, moreover, northern, I am well acquainted with most root vegetables, and parsnips are nothing unusual. That doesn't mean to say I like them. I acutally have something of a loathing for roast parsnips, in particular. There's just something about the sweetness that I don't like. If they were being blatantly and unashamedly sweet, like sweet potatoes (especially the kind with marshmallows on top, om nom nom), that would be fine, but...no, they try to be subtle, and as ze husband keeps telling me, "trop de subtilité tue la subtilité".
There is one way I like parsnips, though, and that's in soup. I made parsnip soup for ze in-laws a couple of weeks ago and they liked it, too. (It was actually them who bought the parsnips, having discovered some lurking in an obscure corner of the supermarket veg aisle. All is not lost).
I think a recipe may be in order, don't you? (I'm not sure where "order" is, mind. Let me know if you find it).
Ingredients (to feed 6. Maybe. It depends on how hungry they are).
Parsnips say...6 really big ones, or 8-10 smaller ones
Stock -about a litre. Homemade or not. I don't really care. I don't actually think it makes that much difference (ok, ok, burn me, I'm a food heretic. Whatever. It's cold outside, anyway).
Olive oil -a good drizzling sort of amount.
Onions- a few. (No, I didn't say ANYTHING about my recipe being precise)
A potato or two -if you want, and depending on how parsnippy you like your soup. Potatoes dilute the parsnippiness a bit and make the parsnips go further if you think you might be a bit short. (I'm a bit short. Just not of parsnips).
Curry powder - eh, a bit. We'll think about how much when we get to it).
Seasoning
Preheat oven to GM7/200°c. If you use Fahrenheit, go and turn on the computer and look up the conversion.
Peel and chop parsnips, onions and potatoes. Big or small chunks, batons or slices, whatever makes you happy. It's all going to get liquidised later anyway. Put vegetables on baking tray, drizzle with a decent amount of olive oil, stick in oven for about an hour (but keep an eye on them after the first 30 minutes, if they start to burn around the edges reduce the temperature). During this time, go away and translate something, or write a blog post, or have a nap. Or something.
Take vegetables out of oven and put in Big Saucepan. Pour on stock. The liquid should just cover the vegetables. If it doesn't, add a bit more boiling water. No-one will mind.
Let it cook for a bit until the vegetables are all properly soft. Liquidise, either using a handheld blender in the pan or in small batches in a freestanding blender. If you're anything like me, have a fight with the blender, splatter half the kitchen with soup, clean it up and then start again with the blending.
Put soup back in pan. Add salt and pepper to taste and one dessert spoon of curry powder (or cumin, if you have cumin. Nom nom cumin). Stir. Taste. Add more curry as necessary. I think I ended up putting around 3 dessert spoons in mine. Maybe.
Eat soup and feel like a paragon of healthy eating. Or a tarragon of healthy eating. Or an Aragorn of healthy eating, if that's what takes your fancy (note the absence of Legolas here. If we were talking about elfy eating, maybe he'd be around. But we're not).
Happy parsnip hunting!
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