Daychange

Early morning bright with sleepy light
Dreams of neighbors walking on the street
Aftershave
Perfume
Cigarette smoke
Empty lift
Carrying its own short term memory
Feet shuffling somewhere below
Beehive of separate lives
Different goals
No talk
A sense of starting

But evening
Dusty diffuse light
High laughter
Shouted conversations
Many cars
Coming and going
On a small street
Thud of a kicked ball
Crowded running feet
Shrieks
Laughter

A neighbor nods
We walk to one another
Warm handshake
Szdrastdwitdchche

Dogs run
Children hop
Neighbors walk together
Couples seek
To pretend they are alone
An old woman walks slowly
Amid the confusion
Comforted
Silent

Things nearing completion

Maybe I'll see you there?

Most of life is too cautious, too afraid of the rare within to give it birth. That's why I'm moving out to the fringes (no more just holidays). I'm fighting not to be afraid that not many people live there (I am always afraid of this loneliness). The little dog of joy lies curled beside my feet. She must be allowed to be where and how she is happy and healthy. For that I would risk everything!

This is Russian soda like we cook with in Kazakhstan. I have tried to substitute regular baking soda for it in other parts of the world (guess I just cook all over the place!) without any success. Can anyone tell me why this is so? 

Question

If i were to know love
would it remember me when i was old
unwashed pots leave an all too clear
record of our passing here
the fabric of time threatened
and straightened and fought with in vain
our cautious consciousness
peeking and blinking to see
if not too much mess has been made
if we could live here
if love is not buried in our history

This is for Roger! This is how I make blini. No half shell for this Venus. It needs to be turned once on my cast iron skillet to achieve perfection. 

This is Kyrgyze Balsam. It is 90 proof and is great to add to local cognac (just a few drops). It really add some interest to the already great taste! 

My trusty pasta roller. Wow, does this thing do a great job quickly! 

Fresh home made noodles, an art in themselves! My father would have loved them this way -- buttered and quickly sauted with salt and pepper. Wow, what a wonderful taste! 

Unitarian Jihad

Check out Julie's post. Pretty funny satire piece. You'll find it at:juliepachouli.My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Moderation.

Get yours.

Table tennis anyone? 

First sunshine in five days! The snow shovels have been busy this morning. 

Spring Cookie Recipe

This simple shortbread recipe is my daughter’s favorite cookie. I have cooked this recipe in a number of restaurants as it is a wonderful compliment to a cup a tea for the discerning guest. A year ago I received a pleading letter from her asking for the recipe but, as luck would have it, the only thing I could find was the professional version I use to teach my kitchens. It is virtually useless to the American home cook unless they have an electronic scale which can measure up to a kilogram by increments of one gram. I knew she didn’t have such a scale and I was in a terrible quandary until I remembered I had published it in the “home form” quite a few years ago when I was writing a newspaper food column.

It took a little daggering around to find where it was archived but I finally found it and was able to send it to her. As Spring should always be greeted with the good smell of dough products cooking in the oven, I thought this would be a good time to post it. I hope you enjoy it! For all its deceptive simplicity, it produces something truly wonderful to be enjoyed with tea or ice cream (although my daughter swears it is a great treat just as a standalone)!


Scottish Shortbread

1 ¼ cups flour
¼ cup sugar
½ cup butter, room temperature
pinch of salt
3 tablespoons of potato starch (substitute corn starch)
Sugar to sprinkle the top with, use slightly larger than regular sized crystals, if possible

Mix all of the dry ingredients together and work the butter in them until completely mixed. If too dry to hold together, carefully add only a few drops of water at a time, being very cautious not to over moisten. Do this until the dough will hold together in a ball. Press the dough in the pan to form a layer of uniform height. Then take the tines of a fork and prick it evenly in a decorative pattern. Turn the tines flat and press around the edge to create another attractive pattern. Sprinkle the top with sugar and bake in a moderately cool oven at about 300-325 F. for about 40 minutes or until somewhat tan in the middle and lightly brown around the edges.

Cut in little wedges and let it cool. A few may break on the way out of the pan but the closer it gets to room temperature, the fewer broken wedges there will be. Enjoy!

Trying to answer!

Please bear with me; I've been asked a candid question by a friend and I'm struggling to understand how to answer. Maybe you will know what real love is. It is the love you have but cannot feel or the love that conquers and destroys you? What do you think? Anyway, here's a poem to try and explore the idea.



The perfect tear

I saw your shoulder and it made me like a leaf in the wind
The thousand kisses I thought I’d lost sat waiting for me to discover
the salty bumps of your spine parched my throat
Somebody spoke, I don’t know who or what they said

You captured the sun, I could only see the sky
by looking in the corner of your eye
as you glanced at me

I smelled something
but it didn’t make sense
I walked somehow to where your perfume lingered in the air
like a dream that I had had
that I couldn’t wake from

I saw you naked
you arched backward
and spanked yourself once laughing
and I was crawling
like a man clawing up a tunnel into the light

In sweat and salt and heat
I slipped off your wet lips
like an unconscious man falling
but you caught me and pulled me back up again with suction
I was saved from death
and died again
to find your little body
beating like a fast drum beside me
floating on a quiet tide
in a quiet room
in a lagoon somebody said wouldn’t last

Back on the street again
I thought what are all these people doing here
I am lost

My new house slippers from Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. I got them jus a few days before their even newer revolution. The material is woven from camel fur and the patterns are traditional. They are very warm and comfortable! 

Oops! So much for Spring unbridled! We've had a day and night of snow. OK, I'll be more patient (crossed fingers). 

Here is a Russian Easter Egg. It is getting to be that time of year! 

s 

These tulips will be the first flowers to grow in the Spring. They are hand carried back to Kazakhstan from trips to Holland. This picture was taken in the early Spring last year.

I miss my dacha! This is my samovar in full tilt boogey! TEA IS READY! 

Some beautiful people at a food fair in Atyrau! 

Quiche Lorraine

First you must make the dough for the crust. I like it with a flaky crust and will explain how I do it, in case you are unfamiliar with it.

Here are the ingredients for the dough:

1 generous cup (150 g) flour
½ teaspoon (4 g) salt
7 tablespoons (105 g) very cold vegetable ghee (from India, Pakistan, or Turkey or substitute Taplonee masla in Russian)
water (very cold)

Put all ingredients except the water in a chilled metal or ceramic bowl. Rub together using the tines of a fork. Avoid ever touching the mixture with your hands as they are warm and would melt the ghee. The effect you want to achieve is to have many areas in the dough where the oil (still hard) is present in high concentration but only a thin layer.

When the mixture has achieved the proper texture, add the water in increments until the mixture will hold together. Now you may take it very briefly in your hands to form it in a ball and put it in a plastic bag. Put the covered dough in the refrigerator to rest for between a half hour to an hour.

When you are about ready to take the dough out, you can make your custard for the filling. Here are the ingredients for the rest of the quiche.

250 g (1/2 pound) coarsely grated cheese

(About the cheese, a good, all around choice would be Emmenthaler, Gruyere or Gouda. These are three rather distinct flavors so the choice depends on the taste you prefer. All three, however, harmonize nicely with the bacon or ham.)

125 g slab bacon or prosciutto cut in slices a little less than 1 cm thick (a little less than a ½ inch)

For the custard, 6 large eggs,
A heaping teaspoon of flour
200 ml of milk (3/4 cup)
2 tablespoons of sour cream or crème fraiche
Salt
Pepper
Nutmeg
(Beat these ingredients together until frothy and full of air bubbles just before pouring in the crust and putting in the oven.)

OK here is the cycle of events that occurs in my kitchen. When the crust dough has been resting in the refrigerator for about 20 minutes, I preheat my oven to 210 C. (about 400 F.). While it is preheating, I cut the meat and grate the cheese. Next I put all the custard ingredients in a bowl reedy to be whipped or beaten (whip me, whip me please they cry). Then I take the dough out of the refrigerator and roll it out in a thin crust to fit the size of my pan. Once it is in the pan, in goes the meat (evenly spaced and lying flat) and then I cover it with the grated cheese. Next I beat the custard mix until it is really frothy (oh my, oh my) and pour it over everything. Then it is in the oven for 50-60 minutes until nicely brown on top and well set. And Voila! Let it cool enough to handle, slice and serve while it is still a little souffléd, if possible.

Just a note about nutmeg and pepper: I always freshly grate or grind for the tastiest and most aromatic result. Niki, help me a little here; in Russian, whole nutmeg is called muskatnaya areckhee, how is it called in Romanian? Any way, they sell special graters to make this wonderful spice product be at its best. Buy one (if you don’t already have it) and use it religiously. For the pepper, I use a Greek or Turkish hand coffee grinder to freshly grind the little whole peppers. This I also do religiously.

I hope you enjoy this simple and delicious dish!

Yomi and I shoot a commercial in a stretched, white Lincoln limo, in the mountains above Almaty  

Pantoum for Raoul Dufy

The snow has gone and uncovered our displeasure with objects
A flashing light with its malevolent power signals a right turn
The store has sold itself robbing the blind giving Peters change to Paul
Passing cars drive by people trying to scare one another

A flashing light with its malevolent power signals a right turn
Do down things have to be put up
Passing cars drive by people trying to scare one another
I doubt the love that left me here to rot in my own right

Do down things have to be put up
No matter where she looks she has misplaced her mind
I doubt the love that left me here to rot in my own right
Allergic to things that once were saddened by light frightened by dark

No matter where she looks she has misplaced her mind
When distinct differences are the same as narrow talk
Allergic to things that once were saddened by light frightened by dark
Axons in the night dully twinkling

When distinct differences are the same as narrow talk
Cat curled on the line between fast cars
Axons in the night dully twinkling
Here I am! I have danced the level stairs

A late Valentine's day post!

"...still in peaceful dreams I see the road leads back to you."

Down the up chimney

Carving to see
Starving
Patterns plain as smoke
Ethereal as dreams
Of smoke
Shrieking
waking
daunting
shaking

Camera obscura
On the nerve
Repetition
harmony
hollow light
Dull and blurred
A bird in the sky
Going nowhere

And in the room
No one goes
An empty plate
On the table
Painting of fruit
Fork
knife
spoon
cup

Bad eyes
Starry night
A sense of blur
Hands jerk
And in the corner
A record skips
skips
skips

Lives like smoke
Looking for patterns
Love me