The Story of Soup

Growing up, I learnt from Dad that a good soup never has a recipe, only a story describing its roots and evolution. At home, soup is usually born from a Sunday roast, and evolves through the week depending on the meals that grace the table.

Here in Holland, my soups are usually a little more predictable. They are usually born from a trip to the market on Saturday where I sometimes buy a chicken for a treat. Indeed, a whole chicken is not such a simple thing to find in a Dutch supermarket and I now consider it a luxury item! After it's been roasted and nibbled at, the chicken finds its way to the pan where it becomes my stock.

Unlike Dad's changing array of ingredients, my soup tends to contain the following ingredients - shiitake mushrooms (with the occasional chanterelle for variety), onion, ginger, the remaining chicken, pearl barley and a little chili to give it that element of surprise. When my cupboards are well stocked then a few more exotic ingredients might be added - kaffir lime leaves or lemongrass both give a nice oriental slant.

Granny's Mulled Wine

Every year on Christmas Day Granny arrives for lunch armed with an orange flask full of mulled wine. This is her recipe:

1 bottle of red wine
1/2 pint water
1/3 rind tangerine
6 tablespoons sugar
6 cloves
1 cup of brandy (optional).

Warm the ingredients (except the brandy) gently until it steams but don't let it boil. Remove the tangerine peel and cloves, and then add the brandy before serving.

Holidays are over...

I flew back to The Netherlands this afternoon after a lovely extended stay in the U.K. Having seen cousin Tim last night for the first time since his wedding in August, I bumped into him again today at the airport - he was the dispatcher in charge of my flight! I've had a nice leisurely evening settling back into my appartment - hard work starts again tomorrow....

Skiing Lesson

My Christmas present from Mum and Dad was a skiing lesson at the dry ski-slope in Rossendale, which I took on Sunday afternoon.

The name "dry ski slope" is in fact a misnomer - the skiing surface is made up of honeycomb patterned brushes, which are sprayed constantly by a sprinkler system in order to provide a snow-like skiing surface. That, coupled with the rain, made for a very wet, although thoroughly enjoyable, experience.

I had a two hour private lesson, and really noticed the difference in how far I was able to progress, compared to the group lesson that was also taking place. By the end of the lesson I had graduated from the nursery slope on to the main slope, and apart from a small slip-up on the tow-lift the first time round, stayed on my feet!

The centre was quite busy - as well as providing ski and snowboard lessons, they also have snow-tube parties for younger children. There was a birthday party taking place whilst I was there, with a large group of 5/6 year olds. I was little surprised when one of the lads nudged his friend, pointed at me and said "Look at that old lady on ski's" - I guess the grey hairs are showing more than I realised!

WikiLoc

I've been trying out WikiLoc as a site for posting GPS trails.

Here's an example, from the walking trip Darby and I took in Italy last summer: Logs from Lago di Como

WikiLoc lets you upload tracks along with photographs, and displays them using GoogleMaps or overlays from other map servers appropriate to the region.

Shetland photos uploaded

A selection of photos from my trip to Shetland are now available on Picasa.

Bird's Eye View

After many monotonous flights recently in Boring 737s, it was great fun to include 4 flights on propellor planes during my trip to Shetland - on a Dash 8 between Manchester and Aberdeen, and a Saab 340 between Aberdeen and Sumburgh.


The flight home from Aberdeen yesterday was particularly good due to the storms covering most of Northern England and Scotland. Sitting right under the wing, I could see the spray generated by the wheels on the runway as we took off, and that great moment as the hydraulics of the undercarriage stretch as far as they can in an effort to remain earthbound, until finally the upward thrust is too great, and the wheels leave the ground.

Once in the air, we were buffeted about like a small gull caught in the wind. We had a small period of respite once we cleared the clouds and headed over the ocean, but as soon as we came back over land the winds hit again with full force.