Showing posts with label anchovies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anchovies. Show all posts

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Linkage!

I slept for twelve hours, seriously - today is the first day in well over a week when I didn't have to set an alarm - and am finally feeling as though I'm on the mend. Probably need to give it another day before exercising (lungs still with some junk), but this is a relief - amazing how poorly an ordinary cold can make you feel.

Two good mouth links:

I've been following the fortunes of this endeavor for a long time now, and am absolutely delighted to see this great news about Bertie's Cupcakery! Bobbie is a very good athlete, wife of triblogger DC Rainmaker, and an extraordinarily gifted and imaginative baker - she created these nautical cookies to send to my brother and sister-in-law to congratulate them on the acquisition of their first boat....

Another thing I'm keen on: anchovy taste test!

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

The wobble


Jellies were once the pinnacle of sophistication.

(As a child, I made jellies in the shape of rabbits as an edible school project for our medieval feast - but though we had, at home, both a very good though now no longer fully functional large orange plastic jelly mold [it was benevolently tested last Xmas as part of small-child-oriented holiday preparations, but the jelly that emerged was not zoologically recognizable] and also smaller metal rabbit molds that perhaps worked better as cake tins, I believe that I used cookie cutters to solve the problem of how to scale up and make enough rabbits for everybody in the class to have their own.)

And here is the jellymongers website. Victorian breakfast looks to be a thing of considerable deliciousness (do I spy decorative anchovies?). Also, for the discerning, bespoke jelly moulds (pictured above). I wouldn't mind having one of these for a party.

I always have a trickle of advance reading copies coming into my apartment, many of which seem to have been sent to me on no rationally comprehensible grounds, but late last week I got one which I seized upon with delight: Lev Grossman's forthcoming novel The Magicians.

It is perhaps too dark to be the perfect escapist reading, but I thought it was very good indeed. For comic relief, I will also observe that I recently bought another book about magic partly because the Amazon reviewers' back-and-forth made me laugh...

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

"Caviar, sturgeon, anchovies, pickled oysters"

Courtesy of Ivan, a persuasive contender for the best single bit of textual commentary in the entire English literary tradition, George Steevens' note on the Shakespearean line "How the devil luxury, with his fat rump and potatoe finger, tickles these together" (click on each page for a clearer view):


Monday, December 08, 2008

Fishy business

Dinner was incomparably better than the play.

(For those following at home with rumbling stomachs: I had the pesci azzuri appetizer [marinated sardines with peperonata, grilled sardines with capers, raisins and pinenuts, marinated anchovies with preserved blood orange] and the Sicilian-style fish stew; we had a delicious verdicchio, which my grandfather picks mostly because it is the kind of wine I particularly and ignorantly like - light and sparkly! - and for dessert I had toasted pistachio gelato with almond milk and pear sorbetti - that is three separate flavors, with delicious waffle cookies. The plate of petits fours they bring at Esca is utterly delicious - they are very understated to look at, nothing Ritz-like or pastryish in an excessive way, more like biscotti and lemon cake and sesame biscuits, but we always eat up every bite by the time we are ready to leave!)

Friday, August 08, 2008

Mellow fruitfulness

It is utterly heartless of me, and I do love the poems in all their over-the-top glory (and the letters are indispensable - I think my favorite critical book about Keats is Christopher Ricks' excellent Keats and Embarrassment), but one sentence near the end of Charles McGrath's slightly reverential review of Stanley Plumly's Posthumous Keats (funny pair of Amazon reviews!) rather made me laugh (run-on sentence alert, this is the hazard of stopping to paste in links!):
At the end, barely able to lift himself from bed, he was subsisting, on doctor’s orders, on a single anchovy.
I think the anchovy must have had more dignity in the Romantic period than it has now. I am fond of anchovies myself, in all of their common incarnations, but they are not to everyone's taste...