Weird Food Wednesday

Nourishing Traditions (the Sally Fallon cookbook) has been my pleasure reading for some years now, along with Tolstoy (all that talk of kvass and pickled beets in War and Peace is beginning to make sense) and I've gradually added strange fermented pickles to our diet, along with yogurt and kefir. Now I just need a cow. And a herd of sheep, but that's another story.

I sour up all these vegetables by chopping and stuffing them into gallon jars with salt and a bit of yogurt whey or brine from a previous batch. The magic happens in about a week. Little microscopic bacteria ferment the sugars and produce lactic acid...real, live, probiotic food! (It really appeals the geek in me.) And it is tasty stuff, too: hot, sour, spicy. Best of all, it is FAST. The original fast food.

When we head out for our emergency picnics, we throw together a jar of kimchi or whatever pickled vegetables we're enjoying. Some creamy yogurt, some sourdough bread, a bottle of fine, aged red wine. (Ok, not the wine. I only wish).

Oh yes, sourdough. I'll have to post again about sourdough, as it is amazing stuff. Every home should have a little fizzy jar of sour dough in their fridge. This is what I used to call sourdough:

When cut very fine and toasted and spread with double-its-weight in butter, it is quite nice. I've found it useful as a step-stool for reaching objects on a high shelf. It also makes an excellent doorstop. But do not drop it on the baby.

My sweet friend Sharon came back from California with a real, Californian sourdough starter. Steeped with the mystique of time, curiously close to San Francisco, it is amazing, and it deserves its own blog post. Also, if you live in the Peterborough area, drop by, and I'll share some with you.

Sunday Sewing

So this is how the skirt turned out. Excuse all the photo-tweaking. The light was awful.

Unfortunately, the scholarly gentleman who snapped the pictures failed to capture the wonderful swish, the clever a-line hang, and the fitted waist with the invisible zipper, BUT I succeeded with at least 3 of my difficult criteria. It is modest, feminine, and I can wear it just about anywhere. (I don't know how it would fare in a backpack, however...)

It also falls down (ha! not literally) in the area of stylish. It goes right down to my ankles (I tell you. Modest.) There are no gathers or garish prints. But it is quite flattering. And grey. And so utterly boring, I'm bound to wear it.

Some Sunday hunting, foraging, and eating...

Granny-up Tutorial

How to Granny-up your old tee-shirt.

I have a problem with gaping neck-lines. (Probably from the way I nurse my babies. It's very destructive to tee-shirts.) So here's how I solved the problem. It requires: one old teeshirt; one old granny doily. (I love old granny doilies). A sewing machine helps, but hand-sewing would be almost as quick. Note: I apologize for the grainy photos.

First, lay out your doily and your shirt.

Fold the doily in half and sew along the straight edge.

Next, turn the shirt inside-out and lay the doily on the neckline, wherever you want it to go.

Pin it in place.

Turn the shirt right-side-out, to make sure the doily is where you want it.

Sew along the neckline on the outside, to secure it.

Here it is being snuggled-upon! No more gaping shirt front.

Here it is in another colour (it was only pinned at this point, so it's a bit flopsy.)

Me and My Honey

...Just hanging out. Everyone else is on the floor with bad colds. We are drinking lots and lots of broth and ginger-fire-tea. My little marsupial is only happy if he is physically attached to me, so he is my Sling Baby night and day. I'll get back to you when we're feeling better! Be well, my friends!

Sunday Sewing

Stage one. Ripping. I take a seam-ripper to my favourite skirt. It is handmade from an old batik print. I will probably never find another one like it, and it is the Perfect Skirt. The scholarly gentleman likes to see me in skirts.

Stage two: I carefully lay out the pieces on a boring grey fabric that I will actually wear. The baby is extremely helpful:

Stage Three. Abandon previous stages and find sewing things for boys, who are clamoring for a project of their own. Nurse baby. Start bread. Read some stories on the floor. Oh my, look at the time! Clean up sewing project for the day.

I have resorted to making my own clothes, since I cannot find what I need:

Modest

Stylish

Feminine

Practical

Pleases the scholarly gentleman

Pleases me

Can be stuffed into a backpack

Can be removed from backpack and worn to Mass

Can be spit-up upon and washed hurriedly in the sink and worn for the rest of the day

Can be worn climbing a tree (with the appropriate underpinnings, of course)

Can be worn to my music students' classes

Can be worn the next day

Now that's not unreasonable, is it? Anyway, I'll keep you updated, and maybe you can send me pictures or pattern-links to your favourite clothes. What do you like to wear?

Friday

With the lengthening evenings, our gypsy side emerges. In the early evening, the scholarly gentleman and I pack children and a pile of sauerkraut and apples (a wholesome, but not entirely filling, supper) into the trailers, and we head up the Trail. The boys get a swanky ride, and the scholarly gentleman and I get real, grown-up conversation, without interruptions. Everyone gets tuckered out. Except him: