Serves approx 3 people
Approx 1.5 syns for the entire recipe on the Extra Easy plan

Ingredients

600g of chicken breast or thigh, cut into strips (I used thigh and kept it whole)
1 tablespoon of lemongrass
2 tablespoons of lime juice
2 garlic cloves, crushed
1 tablespoon of fresh ginger (grated)
2 teaspoons of sweet chilli sauce
2 spring onions, chopped

for the potato rosti:

600g of potato
1 egg
Salt and Pepper

Method

Remove any excess fat from meat and put the chicken in a shallow non metallic dish.
Mix together the lime juice, garlic, lemongrass, ginger, sweet chilli sauce and spring onions.
Pour over the chicken pieces, cover and leave to marinate in the refridgerator for 2 hours.

To make the potato rosti, peel and grate the potatoes.
Squeeze the excess moisture from the potato with your hands until it feels quite dry. Mix the potato with the egg and season well with salt and pepper.
Divide into 6 equal portions.
Spray a frying pan with some non stick spray and cook for approx 10 minutes (or until golden brown on both sides), flattening them down with the back of the spatula during cooking.

Drain the chicken and reserve the marinade. Cook on a grill pan or George Forman until golden brown and cooked through, brush with the reserved marinade throughout the cooking time.

Serve with the potato rosti and your choice of vegetables.

I love breakfast during the week and brunch on the weekend. Ever since we moved to Europe, I enjoy the variety of bread, cheese and ham even more. Last weekend, we invited a Swiss-American couple for Sunday brunch and enjoyed overloaded carb and lazy afternoon together.

Our Swiss friend demonstrated the right way of cooking Rösti, Swiss hash browns, with eggs sunny side up. Last time when Biggi and Steffen were here, we apparently cooked Rösti too thick and too long. The real Rösti was much thinner and crisp on the surface. I also saw that our friend was melting butter on the edge occasionally. Hmmm. Now I can make Rösti as good as a Swiss!!

I baked Zopf, typical Swiss braided bread, from a ready-made mix for the first time. The Swiss like to debate the perfect way to braid Zopf, and I totally understand why. It was just so much fun to braid! I literally measured the length of the stretched dough (supposed to make two 60 cm strips), and L somehow managed to snatch a ruler from me and bat the dough like a butcher. That made an extra “country-style rough surface’ to my Zopf. Besides the rough appearance, it turned out to be delicious and convinced me to make more often.

This is how a real Zopf is supposed to look.

My American friend helped me prepare gâteau basque while we chatted the afternoon away. I used to love this cake when my uncle’s family lived in Biarritz, but I could not find this cake anywhere else in France. I once asked in a large pâtissier in Paris, but their response was like “huh?! What are you talking about?!” so I decided to look for an English recipe online and bake it myself. The taste was exactly what I remember, but the appearance was not what I remembered. I should have soften the dough before putting on the top… Somehow I can never achieve a smooth surface on any of my baking. Can anybody tell me why?!

This is how it’s supposed to look. Oh well… Nonetheless, I’d love to try the recipe again soon.

När jag var liten fanns det en barnvisa – jag har glömt det mesta av texten – men i refrängen sjöng man om Potäter och sill. Det var det absoluta i vardagsmat: potatis och sill, potatis och torsk, potatis och lax. Ofta när man frågade vad det blev till middag hemma fick man dessutom svaret: fisk och potatis. Jag skulle aldrig komma på tanken att servera min pappa en middag, där det inte ingick potatis i någon form.

Generationsfråga? Kanske. Nu förtiden är det kanske spaghetti som gäller. Men faktum kvarstår, att för billig vardagsmat är potatis briljant. Mosa den i sås eller ät den färsk – oavsett passar den lysande till de flesta nyttiga rätter. Men hur gör man för att variera sig? Enbart kokt potatis dag in och dag ut kan ju göra en litet dyster… Här är några enkla variationer som passar till det mesta:

Pressad potatis
Koka potatisen i välsaltat vatten, ca 3 potatisar per portion, 20 min. I sista sekund innan maten ska serveras, pressa potatisen med en potatispress. Droppa över litet olivolja om du vill lyxa till det, och hackad persilja.

Hemgjort potatismos
Koka potatisen i välsaltat vatten, ca 3 potatisar per portion. Koka även med en eller två morötter. Koka i 25 minuter – häll av vattnet. Kör med mixerstav tillsammans med en blanding av 25 g smält smör och mjölk, ca 3 dl, som du häller på litet efterhand. Lämna gärna klumpar – klumpar av riktigt potatis är något helt annat än klumpar i pulvermos.

Potatispuré
Gör som potatismoset ovan men späd med mer vätska, ca 5 dl mjölk.

Rösti (enklaste sorten)
Riv potatis grovt. Salta och peppra. I en vid stekpanna med hög värme och smör i botten, bred ut den rivna potatisen i en tunnt lager. Stek ca 3-5 minuter på varje sida – potatiskakan ska vara gyllenbrun men inte torr i mitten. För att det ska bli enklare och vända kan du göra plättar i stekpannan istället för att göra en stor kaka.

The porcini mushroom hunting season is now drawing to a close, but last week my mate Marco gave me an overflowing punnet of these fine beasts that he and his mum had foraged themselves. They were fantastic, meaty, flavoursome and they keep their fleshy bulk even when you cook them. I dished them up on a rosti, a recipe stolen from over the border in Switzerland.

Ingredients for 4 people

Fresh porcini mushrooms – 150g (or 30g dried porcini)

Potatoes – 550g of a waxy variety

Butter – 3 tablespoons

Onion – one

Olive oil – for frying

Chestnut mushrooms – 150g

Garlic – 1 clove

Double cream – 4 tablespoons

Parsley – bunch

If you’re using dried porcini, re-hydrate them in a cupful of boiling water.

Then put the unpeeled potatoes in a saucepan of salted water and bring to the boil. Parboil for about 10-15 mins, depending on their size. Then drain, run under cold water and peel and grate the spuds.

Finely slice the onion and fry it till golden in 2/3rds of the butter. Add the cooked onions to the potatoes and mix in with a good dose of salt and pepper.

Now over to the sauce. Slice the chestnut mushrooms (including the porcini if you are using fresh ones) and sauté with the finely chopped garlic, in the rest of the butter, for 5 minutes. If you are using dried porcini, now add them and sauté the mix for another 5 minutes. Add the cream and chopped parsley.

Heat the olive oil in the frying pan, take a handful of the potato mix and gently mould it into a palm sized pattie. Fry it on a medium heat until golden brown on both sides, gently turning it over.

Place a pattie on a plate and spoon over the mushroom mixture. Serve with a lamb chop or some good Italian sausages.

The weather forecast was grim. The last glimmers of summer were quickly fading, and the gray cloud of fall and winter was already setting in. No trip to Switzerland is complete without a sojourn to the jagged peaks of the Alps. On this last weekend of the B. parents’ visit, we’d originally hoped to make a trek to Zermatt and from there, by mountain cog-train, to a mind-blowing lookout upon the Gornergrat Glacier and the nearby Matterhorn. The weather simply didn’t cooperate. However, we kept watching the forecast for points in the Alps closer to Bern and finally sensed an opportunity. By mid-day we were approaching the resort town of Grindelwald.

Though thick cloud and rain had been forecast, we were greeted with clearing skies and Sun.

Partners in crime.

“Mountains? Where?”

There are abundant ways to reach deeper into the mountains from Grindelwald. Ultimately, we settled on a cable car leading from the western end of Grindewald up to Männlichen (2343 m, nearly 7690 ft) to catch views of the impressive summits of Jungrfau (4158 m, 13642 ft), Eiger (3970 m, 13025 ft), and Mönch (4107 m, 13474 ft).

The views of mountains and bovines alike from the small two-person cars were outstanding. Looking back towards Grindelwald, the Wetterhorn (3692 m, 12113 ft) towers over the village.

But there is always a price to pay.

Reaching nearly 6100m, the Gondelbahn Grindewald-Männlichen is the longest passenger cable-car in the world. The journey from top to bottom takes 30 minutes. For some of us, the complimentary Ricola lozenge barely lasted to the half-way point.

Did we mention that Bo B. (pictured above) is not fond of heights?

But the pay-off was exquisite:

▲ We had a yummy lunch at Männlichen. The rösti was considerably cheaper on a mountaintop than in Bern — go figure. Then we took in the extraordinary views as swirling sheets of cloud blew over us.

▲ The view from Männlichen — click panoramic image to enlarge.

▲ Beowulf and Grendel monument, 6 km.

▲ Proof that Bo B. made it to the top. Thankfully, the restaurant was serving beer.

▲ Rocky VII, “Fighting for Fondue.” Cue Survivor’s “Eye of the Gorby.”

The natural vision of Switzerland is hidden within the auspices of its perceptions. Between three distinctive regions, the options of possibilities exist. From the beauty of its Italian influenced Ticino region to the dizzing heights of the Western Alps to the subtle and smooth feeling of Zurich, this arena offers a different array of sights, tastes and community.

With direct service from LAX and NY, the different stages of Swiss Airlines offers distinctiveness of comfort. After the relaxation of the Star Alliance Lounge in LAX’s Tom Bradley Terminal, the flight is caught with utmost ease, retrieved just before takeoff. The key is timing as the fires of Los Angeles burn away to reveal the gentle twilight allowed by an overnight flight, 10 hours in length. With ample legroom, power outlets for necessary work, comfortable temperature and a three-course meal elegant of wine, the eyes closed only to reveal the day later.

With the ease of a Swiss Pass allowing full transport through the country’s rail system, the four-hour journey to Mariesco in the Ticino region unveiled winding views through massive valleys brimmed with the sight of the 15,000 foot Mt. Rosa which takes the breath away.

The Ticino region lies in the South of Switzerland. Staying at the Hotel Serpiano (which is only 500 meters from the Italian border), the grandiosity is apparent overlooking Lake Lugano towards Mancote. Only a matter of miles away, Lake Como, which has become the getaway home of George Clooney, shows the connection of the beauty of the region for people of taste.

Touring the small town of Meride, reminiscent of Tuscany, replete with the two churches of San Silvestro & San Rocco, a single candle is lit as the vision of Santa Lucia peers forth in essential silence as a woman speaks greetings from a window above.

A short ride away, Agriloro, the winery of Meinrad Perler, sits in the breast of Monte Gereroso winding succinctly through a small wisp of heaven between Switzerland and Italy. Formerly a banker but now with several wine notices of brilliance under his belt, Perler winds his grapes between experiments of chemistry and quality interest. His gold prize winning 2007 Merlot Reserve is the pinnacle of taste with zest and a bite of blackberry while his Casmiro, despite a fraction of scitzophrenia, pulls off a motley blend with a range of sensibility.

Lunch within the cool shadow of Meride at the Grotto Fosatti waifs with the compelling aroma of morels that wanders from the kitchen as the owner flirts with a visiting girl who inquires of his polenta. His wide smiling response: “But my risotto!”

The serving of polenta, based of cornmeal with a bit of a twist, offers a hearty comparison to the pork surrounded by carrots and potatoes. When balanced in zest with a soft but nice Punto 902 Merlot and preceded by a light salad touched by Balsamico, it is bella. However it is the Verissimo, made in a mixture of Frangelico and whiskey, that hits with a heightened sweetness hidden in the wonder of an  expresso.

In short order following, Bellinazona, resting in a nearby valley, was a strategic battle position of lore heightened by the rule of the Dukes Of Milan (“Tempest” anyone?) in the early 1400s. Castles reign in the tender geography but the cool winds prevail giving a sense of calm that besets the night.

At Hotel Cereda, a quiet terrace offers a soothing afternoon moment of life as a light breeze shimmers, the light drifting through the lifting trees as La Rossa, a local Ticino beer, fades the sounds away.

The vision of Castelgrande, occupying the first line of defense against the Milanese Dukes of the past, shows the cusp of how the generals might have perceived the battles. With similar tinges in the Moravian embattlement of parts of the Czech Republic again the Turks, the key here is the maintaining of longetivity and the implementation of strategic strikes. Advancing marauders along these long fortified walls would be suceptible to unprotected attacks further proving the advantageous wranglings of this structure.

From the Castlegrande, the long leading grass terrain into the heart of town creates elation in its simplicity and daring. From its pinnacle view, three preparing castles ascend up the respondent hill.

At Castle Montebello, the working drawbridge highlights the beauty of the overlooking grass as the resident beast, a friendly cat, marches in time under orders to the delight of all involved before bounding down the hill to welcome an unprepared guest.

Dinner within Castle Castello, further up the mountain, offered the last of Ticino before the transition to the heights of the Alps.

The restaurant Osteria Sasso Corbaro sits quietly within the coolness of the tower atrium of Castello. The paradoxical influence of its seafood with lobster claw fettucini dwelling within a light primavera sauce offered slight resistance in its overcooked mentality while the luscious haddock, flaky while not overcoming the wonder of Norwegian sole in Scandinavia, offered a content antecedent. The smoothness of Cornico Oro Merlot, infinitely drinkable in its peppers, encouraged the late evening within the global possibilities of those present from Johannesburg to Mumbai to Milano, one with all in laughter. As the sweetness of Collecta Costana, with its continuing influence of Vessimo & Expresso, ended the evening, talk of love for “The Big Lebowski” predicated tales of fun.

Driving into the increasing elevation of the St. Gotthard Pass, the tree line fades away as the pinnacle leading to one glacier view makes the skyline like heaven. The immenseness of the rock against the human form makes one perceive life differently. Unlike the Rockies, these views stretch on to forever and suggest something primordial.

As the road retreats in the distance, the vision of a lone girl against the backdrop indicates the sheer magnificance of the wonder.

Approaching Sion, the scream of fighter jets zooming low over the wine headquarters of Espace Provins pre-supposes its variety. In tour mode, the simpleness of the 2008 Merlot overcomes the smooth citrus elements of 2007 Bougnesa White while the cool recollection of 2008 Ice ladles the consuming cheese wonder of small cakes. But exercise calls.

Pfyn/Finges borders along the angle of the Valais Valley with gentle grasslands leading up to winding trails. Unbecoming of harsh angles for the novice, stories of myths in the forest laying on a bed of ferns becomes the whistling brushing of the trees. A knowing guide understands the need to enjoy even as the sturdy bridge becomes with dancing.

The natural essence of the area allows for combination of the mineral elements in interesting ways as pure mineral water from the Valais is combined in chemistry with a local absinthe, replete in its bottle, creating a milky elixir consumed by all in numbers.

As the rain begins to fall, a bottle of Ticino Casmiro (from Agriloro) is shared  as the many nationalities with a sense of comraderie find commonality in their stories of life, tenderness, fun and, best of all: chocolate.

In the quiet town of Fiesch in the region of Goms, an early morning walk brings the eye to the base of a beheamouth. Bordering a tram, the vision continues as the cable car transport makes its way almost directly up 9000 feet at the top of theEggishorn. As a small wire bridge danges over a 600 foot drop, the swinging becomes contingent.

As the wind blows, the view over the Aletsch Glacier is intense. This unadulterated view of the Western Alps is inconceivable at times in its mass. Looking down 1000 feet below to the floor of the glacier leading down from a peak nearly 14000 feet, the ice is cracked with rivules that can extend almost 200 feet below the surface. The extreme depth of the glacial ice reaching down nearly 2000 feet is one of the deepest in the world.

As a guide leads a group up to the angle of the panorama, one thinks of the journey to Mordor with Frodo in “Lord Of The Rings” as the small figures wind around straggly rocks and straight drops-offs into gulfs of nothingness. The true insignifance of man becomes quite clear.

As the clouds roll through, a fighter jet on maneuvers screams through the glacier floor with afterburners flaring into a vertical cut of the cloudy darkness as pelts of ice rain down. The balance of technology and nature bending in the wind impedes a sense of foreboding while, in the distance, the godliness of the Matterhorn watches aloft in her majesty.

Lunch at the cusp of this vision begates a need for stamina and heartiness. At the Horli Hitta Alpine Hut, “rosti”, combining a bed of hash browns, crispy and flavorful, is blanketed in creamy yorta cheese with thick but curt slices of bacon and topped with fried eggs; a just meal for the hearty traveler.

Only one thing elevated above the soaring awe with the clamor of wistful horns trumpeting the sound of tradition: chocolate. The quest began.

Later, as the gurgling brook entices the small village of Binn with the light richness of Swiss cheese, the city center crackles with life.

In quiet succession, the chocolate grail of Nutella appears through the small oasis of Migros lighting up the hearts of women gathered from across the world. As the calfs moo and the tinkling of their neck bells resound, the calmness of life in the Binntal consumes the valley.

Early morning brings a sense of simple contentment. At the Hotel Fieschhof, the pure natural air consumes the cusp of dawn as church bells sound in the distance with a crisp echo that imagines a silence with the edge of heaven, away from the indulgence of the city.

Leaving the lift of the country on the Swiss Express to Zurich, the fast rails offer richness as the smiles of those around us is aroused approaching the excitement of Switzerland’s central city.

The beauty of Lake Zurich leading into the city river flow is as clear as the water that feeds it. Aboard the ferry Uteliberg as ancient twin pillars from the 12th Century overlook the departure, the clouds break over the soothing stillness.

As the white rush of rain covers the city of Zurich, the top of the Uteliberg billows with the roar of the wind, basking in the love of nature.

Returning to the streets, the newfound clarity evenly succumbs the 1200 spring fed drinking fountains across the city allowing for a pure gulp of water as the sweet music from inside the Fraumunster Cathedral parallels the quiet passing of nuns.

As the side streets allow escape within the city center, the solidity of the Swiss Banks juts above with the institutions of UBS and Credit Suisse. Nearby the clocks in evervescent perpuity tick time with a preciseness known all over the world.

Listening to the bells chimes in the warmth of the Cafe Weggem, an expresso and a tart svatchka plum crumb cake comforts, a small getaway for those in the know as a drizzling brightness seeps in through the windows.

Zurich also offers a veil of surrounding proponents diverse in their thought processes.

At the Masaola Rainforest Preserve, part of the Zurich Zoo, a complete recreation of a Madagascar habitat down to the temperature and thousands of different plantlife species, animals roam wild acting in their preternatural state. A fruit bat flies overhead, its wingspan heavy with each passing glide. Gray haired lemurs screech in the back trees, arguing with each other over some fallen food. A giant male tortoise roars his dominance with full open viciousness as he climbs atop his female mate. And red leaf lemurs watch the human integers with veiled eyes before flying dozens of feet in the air to adjoining trees, locking their roots in the ever increasing soil.

By visionary proactivity, the Swiss National Museum traces both the history and the thoughts of Switzerland. Like the US, this nation is built upon the motley proponents of immigrants (in this case from Germany to Italy to France) which constitute its specified thought process which is relegated over almost 800 years.

Inside its walls, an early stained glass window, highlighting Mary entitled “Madonna of Flums”, dating from 1200 and commissioned by the Chapel of St. Jacob , bustles in the light with its hues of red blue and brown.

Nearby the monastery tapestry of “The Walled Garden”, dated 1580, gives a whole new modern take of intent with refracted mirror light from video projectors that allow the actual stories depicting the birth, death and resurrection of Christ to take on an animated quality within the actual structures without physically hurting the artifact.

In another tiny corner, the oldest existing panorama, depicting Zurich, to survive the Restoration, dated 1421, shows a vision of life not completely different than the vista portrait of today. The twin steeples above the city mirror the Fraumunster Cathedral leading across the bridge and out into Lake Zurich as the clouds rise above the blue, comforting in their consistency as citizens mill about their daily routines.

As the “aplermagronen”, a traditional Swiss meal combining macaroni and chicken croquette then topped with apple sauce, consumes with the smooth of a Feldschlossen, the Swiss experience in the heart of Zurich reaches full circle.

From the sweeping green valleys of Ticino to the dizzying heights of the Eggishorn in the Binntal to the calm soothing waters of Lake Zurich, the natural tendencies of Switzerland speak in clear terms to the likes of a discerning international audience searching for the best in clear and green prerogatives while still enjoying the more grapelike and hearty inclinations of a traveling world.

Kartoffelrösti mit Mozzarella

Das Einfache ist noch immer das Beste.

Einfach Roseval. Beispielsweise. Eine Kartoffelsorte aus Frankreich mit roter Schale und gelbfleischig. Sie gehört zu den vorwiegend festkochenden Sorten und ist für Salzkartoffeln gut zu empfehlen. Geschält und in Scheiben geschnitten kann man sie bestens als Bratkartoffelsorte nutzen, auch ohne sie zuvor gekocht zu haben. Sie wird herrlich goldbraun und knusprig, bleibt aber innen angenehm sämig, ähnlich vorgekochten Kartoffeln, die man sonst für Bratkartoffeln nehmen würde.

Roseval

Daher bot sie sich heute für den schnellen Freitagshappen mittags an. Zwei Stück mittelgrosse Kartoffeln schälen, raspeln, im Tuch auspressen, etwas Kartoffelmehl dazu, Salz, Pfeffer, Cayenne, in Butterschmalz als “Plätzchen” kross braten, Mini-Mozzarella halbieren und darauf legen, an Tomaten und Gurken servieren.
Perfekt.

2 mittelgrosse Roseval ergeben dabei rund 20 Plätzchen oder entsprechend grössere Rösti.

Quelle für die Häppchen-Löffel : Contento-Shop

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]]> http://funthyme.wordpress.com/2009/10/16/the-crown-islington/ Fri, 16 Oct 2009 12:35:26 +0000 funthyme http://funthyme.wordpress.com/2009/10/16/the-crown-islington/

I like The Cown. It’s where I usually go for a midweek supper if I’m going to the cinema in Angel which is what I did last night.

I’m not really a fan of Sci-Fi but a number of friends have recommended District 9 so thought I’d give it a bash. If you haven’t already go and see it. It’s entertaining however you’ll never look at prawns in the same way again. Be warned.

I’ve been a fan of The Crown for about 6 years as it used to be a local before prices drove me further and further out of central london. It’s exactly what gastopubs should be. Original features, well stocked bar with plenty of ales, homemade pork scratching (the kind barman gave me a sample – I wasn’t brave enough to commit to a bowl) and most importantly good value and wholesome food.

We didn’t have time for starters but no reason you shouldn’t take a peek.

I always feel like a bit of a dick taking photos of menus so I rushed and missed off the prices.. they ranged between about £9-£14.

Breast of Lamb Stuffed with Spinach and Roasted Tomatoes on Potato Rosti.

I don’t usually order breast of lamb out of fear that it’s not been trimmed and cooked sufficiently but I trust The Crown and so chose to indulge.

Crispy without being dry on the outside and soft without being fatty in the centre. The spinach and tomato (and pine nut) stuffing held up during the slow cook which I found an achievement.

The rosti was more of a grated potato cake. You can’t really see from the photo but it was a good inch and a half high. My lamb was advertised as ‘on top’ of the rosti but was nestled to the side, perhaps it was scared of heights and prefered the safety of the plate? Not that this was a problem as it was cooked through; soft and a bit like rice in the middle and crispy on the outside.

The jus, or gravy seeing as we’re in a pub, was deep and rich and coated the crispy textures of the lamb.

In terms or flavour the whole dish tasted very much of lamb and not a lot else. Exactly what I hope the chef was trying to achieve as he nailed it.

Carly had the Toulouse sausages. I had a nibble and it tasted like a good, honest herby British banger rather than the rich, winey, garlicy Toulouse I was expecting. Here’s a picture.

We shared a good bottle of Nero D’Avolo Cab Sav. £23 a bottle.

Should go to the flicks more often if the food’s this good.

116 Cloudesley Road
Islington
London
N1 0EB

Funthyme

The natural vision of Switzerland is hidden within the auspices of its perceptions. Between three distinctive regions, the options of possibilities exist. From the beauty of its Italian influenced Ticino region to the dizzing heights of the Western Alps to the subtle and smooth feeling of Zurich, this arena offers a different array of sights, tastes and community.

With direct service from LAX and NY, the different stages of Swiss Airlines offers distinctiveness of comfort. After the relaxation of the Star Alliance Lounge in LAX’s Tom Bradley Terminal, the flight is caught with utmost ease, retrieved just before takeoff. The key is timing as the fires of Los Angeles burn away to reveal the gentle twilight allowed by an overnight flight, 10 hours in length. With ample legroom, power outlets for necessary work, comfortable temperature and a three-course meal elegant of wine, the eyes closed only to reveal the day later.

With the ease of a Swiss Pass allowing full transport through the country’s rail system, the four-hour journey to Mariesco in the Ticino region unveiled winding views through massive valleys brimmed with the sight of the 15,000 foot Mt. Rosa which takes the breath away.

The Ticino region lies in the South of Switzerland. Staying at the Hotel Serpiano (which is only 500 meters from the Italian border), the grandiosity is apparent overlooking Lake Lugano towards Mancote. Only a matter of miles away, Lake Como, which has become the getaway home of George Clooney, shows the connection of the beauty of the region for people of taste.

Touring the small town of Meride, reminiscent of Tuscany, replete with the two churches of San Silvestro & San Rocco, a single candle is lit as the vision of Santa Lucia peers forth in essential silence as a woman speaks greetings from a window above.

A short ride away, Agriloro, the winery of Meinrad Perler, sits in the breast of Monte Gereroso winding succinctly through a small wisp of heaven between Switzerland and Italy. Formerly a banker but now with several wine notices of brilliance under his belt, Perler winds his grapes between experiments of chemistry and quality interest. His gold prize winning 2007 Merlot Reserve is the pinnacle of taste with zest and a bite of blackberry while his Casmiro, despite a fraction of scitzophrenia, pulls off a motley blend with a range of sensibility.

Lunch within the cool shadow of Meride at the Grotto Fosatti waifs with the compelling aroma of morels that wanders from the kitchen as the owner flirts with a visiting girl who inquires of his polenta. His wide smiling response: “But my risotto!”

The serving of polenta, based of cornmeal with a bit of a twist, offers a hearty comparison to the pork surrounded by carrots and potatoes. When balanced in zest with a soft but nice Punto 902 Merlot and preceded by a light salad touched by Balsamico, it is bella. However it is the Verissimo, made in a mixture of Frangelico and whiskey, that hits with a heightened sweetness hidden in the wonder of an  expresso.

In short order following, Bellinazona, resting in a nearby valley, was a strategic battle position of lore heightened by the rule of the Dukes Of Milan (“Tempest” anyone?) in the early 1400s. Castles reign in the tender geography but the cool winds prevail giving a sense of calm that besets the night.

At Hotel Cereda, a quiet terrace offers a soothing afternoon moment of life as a light breeze shimmers, the light drifting through the lifting trees as La Rossa, a local Ticino beer, fades the sounds away.

The vision of Castelgrande, occupying the first line of defense against the Milanese Dukes of the past, shows the cusp of how the generals might have perceived the battles. With similar tinges in the Moravian embattlement of parts of the Czech Republic again the Turks, the key here is the maintaining of longetivity and the implementation of strategic strikes. Advancing marauders along these long fortified walls would be suceptible to unprotected attacks further proving the advantageous wranglings of this structure.

From the Castlegrande, the long leading grass terrain into the heart of town creates elation in its simplicity and daring. From its pinnacle view, three preparing castles ascend up the respondent hill.

At Castle Montebello, the working drawbridge highlights the beauty of the overlooking grass as the resident beast, a friendly cat, marches in time under orders to the delight of all involved before bounding down the hill to welcome an unprepared guest.

Dinner within Castle Castello, further up the mountain, offered the last of Ticino before the transition to the heights of the Alps.

The restaurant Osteria Sasso Corbaro sits quietly within the coolness of the tower atrium of Castello. The paradoxical influence of its seafood with lobster claw fettucini dwelling within a light primavera sauce offered slight resistance in its overcooked mentality while the luscious haddock, flaky while not overcoming the wonder of Norwegian sole in Scandinavia, offered a content antecedent. The smoothness of Cornico Oro Merlot, infinitely drinkable in its peppers, encouraged the late evening within the global possibilities of those present from Johannesburg to Mumbai to Milano, one with all in laughter. As the sweetness of Collecta Costana, with its continuing influence of Vessimo & Expresso, ended the evening, talk of love for “The Big Lebowski” predicated tales of fun.

Driving into the increasing elevation of the St. Gotthard Pass, the tree line fades away as the pinnacle leading to one glacier view makes the skyline like heaven. The immenseness of the rock against the human form makes one perceive life differently. Unlike the Rockies, these views stretch on to forever and suggest something primordial.

As the road retreats in the distance, the vision of a lone girl against the backdrop indicates the sheer magnificance of the wonder.

Approaching Sion, the scream of fighter jets zooming low over the wine headquarters of Espace Provins pre-supposes its variety. In tour mode, the simpleness of the 2008 Merlot overcomes the smooth citrus elements of 2007 Bougnesa White while the cool recollection of 2008 Ice ladles the consuming cheese wonder of small cakes. But exercise calls.

Pfyn/Finges borders along the angle of the Valais Valley with gentle grasslands leading up to winding trails. Unbecoming of harsh angles for the novice, stories of myths in the forest laying on a bed of ferns becomes the whistling brushing of the trees. A knowing guide understands the need to enjoy even as the sturdy bridge becomes with dancing.

The natural essence of the area allows for combination of the mineral elements in interesting ways as pure mineral water from the Valais is combined in chemistry with a local absinthe, replete in its bottle, creating a milky elixir consumed by all in numbers.

As the rain begins to fall, a bottle of Ticino Casmiro (from Agriloro) is shared  as the many nationalities with a sense of comraderie find commonality in their stories of life, tenderness, fun and, best of all: chocolate.

In the quiet town of Fiesch in the region of Goms, an early morning walk brings the eye to the base of a beheamouth. Bordering a tram, the vision continues as the cable car transport makes its way almost directly up 9000 feet at the top of the Eggishorn. As a small wire bridge danges over a 600 foot drop, the swinging becomes contingent.

As the wind blows, the view over the Aletsch Glacier is intense. This unadulterated view of the Western Alps is inconceivable at times in its mass. Looking down 1000 feet below to the floor of the glacier leading down from a peak nearly 14000 feet, the ice is cracked with rivules that can extend almost 200 feet below the surface. The extreme depth of the glacial ice reaching down nearly 2000 feet is one of the deepest in the world.

As a guide leads a group up to the angle of the panorama, one thinks of the journey to Mordor with Frodo in “Lord Of The Rings” as the small figures wind around straggly rocks and straight drops-offs into gulfs of nothingness. The true insignifance of man becomes quite clear.

As the clouds roll through, a fighter jet on maneuvers screams through the glacier floor with afterburners flaring into a vertical cut of the cloudy darkness as pelts of ice rain down. The balance of technology and nature bending in the wind impedes a sense of foreboding while, in the distance, the godliness of the Matterhorn watches aloft in her majesty.

Lunch at the cusp of this vision begates a need for stamina and heartiness. At the Horli Hitta Alpine Hut, “rosti”, combining a bed of hash browns, crispy and flavorful, is blanketed in creamy yorta cheese with thick but curt slices of bacon and topped with fried eggs; a just meal for the hearty traveler.

Only one thing elevated above the soaring awe with the clamor of wistful horns trumpeting the sound of tradition: chocolate. The quest began.

Later, as the gurgling brook entices the small village of Binn with the light richness of Swiss cheese, the city center crackles with life.

In quiet succession, the chocolate grail of Nutella appears through the small oasis of Migros lighting up the hearts of women gathered from across the world. As the calfs moo and the tinkling of their neck bells resound, the calmness of life in the Binntal consumes the valley.

Early morning brings a sense of simple contentment. At the Hotel Fieschhof, the pure natural air consumes the cusp of dawn as church bells sound in the distance with a crisp echo that imagines a silence with the edge of heaven, away from the indulgence of the city.

Leaving the lift of the country on the Swiss Express to Zurich, the fast rails offer richness as the smiles of those around us is aroused approaching the excitement of Switzerland’s central city.

The beauty of Lake Zurich leading into the city river flow is as clear as the water that feeds it. Aboard the ferry Uteliberg as ancient twin pillars from the 12th Century overlook the departure, the clouds break over the soothing stillness.

As the white rush of rain covers the city of Zurich, the top of the Uteliberg billows with the roar of the wind, basking in the love of nature.

Returning to the streets, the newfound clarity evenly succumbs the 1200 spring fed drinking fountains across the city allowing for a pure gulp of water as the sweet music from inside the Fraumunster Cathedral parallels the quiet passing of nuns.

As the side streets allow escape within the city center, the solidity of the Swiss Banks juts above with the institutions of UBS and Credit Suisse. Nearby the clocks in evervescent perpuity tick time with a preciseness known all over the world.

Listening to the bells chimes in the warmth of the Cafe Weggem, an expresso and a tart svatchka plum crumb cake comforts, a small getaway for those in the know as a drizzling brightness seeps in through the windows.

Zurich also offers a veil of surrounding proponents diverse in their thought processes.

At the Masaola Rainforest Preserve, part of the Zurich Zoo, a complete recreation of a Madagascar habitat down to the temperature and thousands of different plantlife species, animals roam wild acting in their preternatural state. A fruit bat flies overhead, its wingspan heavy with each passing glide. Gray haired lemurs screech in the back trees, arguing with each other over some fallen food. A giant male tortoise roars his dominance with full open viciousness as he climbs atop his female mate. And red leaf lemurs watch the human integers with veiled eyes before flying dozens of feet in the air to adjoining trees, locking their roots in the ever increasing soil.

By visionary proactivity, the Swiss National Museum traces both the history and the thoughts of Switzerland. Like the US, this nation is built upon the motley proponents of immigrants (in this case from Germany to Italy to France) which constitute its specified thought process which is relegated over almost 800 years.

Inside its walls, an early stained glass window, highlighting Mary entitled “Madonna of Flums”, dating from 1200 and commissioned by the Chapel of St. Jacob , bustles in the light with its hues of red blue and brown.

Nearby the monastery tapestry of “The Walled Garden”, dated 1580, gives a whole new modern take of intent with refracted mirror light from video projectors that allow the actual stories depicting the birth, death and resurrection of Christ to take on an animated quality within the actual structures without physically hurting the artifact.

In another tiny corner, the oldest existing panorama, depicting Zurich, to survive the Restoration, dated 1421, shows a vision of life not completely different than the vista portrait of today. The twin steeples above the city mirror the Fraumunster Cathedral leading across the bridge and out into Lake Zurich as the clouds rise above the blue, comforting in their consistency as citizens mill about their daily routines.

As the “aplermagronen”, a traditional Swiss meal combining macaroni and chicken croquette then topped with apple sauce, consumes with the smooth of a Feldschlossen, the Swiss experience in the heart of Zurich reaches full circle.

From the sweeping green valleys of Ticino to the dizzying heights of the Eggishorn in the Binntal to the calm soothing waters of Lake Zurich, the natural tendencies of Switzerland speak in clear terms to the likes of a discerning international audience searching for the best in clear and green prerogatives while still enjoying the more grapelike and hearty inclinations of a traveling world.

i can safely say summer has arrived .  finally.  dare i say, today could even register as “oppressive.”  or maybe it’s only oppressive in my apartment – i gave up central air when i moved here to save money.  on these types of days i say, “why?  why?  for the love of gawd, WHY?” 

yesterday was a spectacular specimen of a day and i visited old young and exceptionally attractive friends at their summer rental cottage. 

unfortunately, we didn’t have an umbrella as pictured numerous times here and for the first time in YEARS, despite my application of SPF 50 (several times i might add) i got some sunburned shoulders.  drat.  there goes my attempt at julianne moore/nicole kidman pearly white skin right out the window. 

since i was in the prestigious shoreline area i popped into the prestigious thrift store.  got a 1964 mccall’s decorating book and some vintage beach-themed coasters.  honest to goodness, i own more coasters than i know what to do with.  if i used a different coaster with each cocktail i drink i think i’d have enough to last a lifetime.  i’ve got to throw some mean fêtes and use these babies up.

threw in a couple old glasses and another rosti utensil i found earlier in the week at a lesser prestigious thrift store.

since i’m pretty much a loner, my daily goal is tryin’ like heck to find a laugh out there somewhere, something that amuses me (other than laughing at myself.)  (i know, pathetic.  i used to laugh my brains out daily til i created this recluse life for myself, but i hate when people talk about how they “used to be.”  ex:  i was a 105 lb. bride, i used to be able to do 50 push-ups,  i used to have six-pack abs, i used to work out all the time, i used to have friends, i used to make a decent living.  ENOUGH with the ”used-tos” already.)   but seriously, i used to laugh a lot.

this mccall’s decorating book has REALLY great info in it, but NOT really good decor pictures (for my taste.)  i didn’t quite realize how many vintage decorating books i’ve amassed over the years and they’ve literally become my go-to bibles.  but while flipping through this mccall’s i couldn’t help but notice how important cigarettes were in design.  and this, my friends, this is the stuff that cracks me up.  i realize it isn’t even funny, but  i do get a kick out of it. 

cigs in a blue cup

cigs in elegant crystal

cigs in a scoop

couple cigs in a brass cup with some purty tulips

cigs AND matches in the lounge area

and hello?  the ”scatter wall.”  i love the name for it.  the grouping of several oil paintings in the lounge area which you see EVERYWHERE today. 

the scatter wall

cigs in a mug

and this isn’t even all of  ‘em.  yah, the decor isn’t my fave, but i’m loving the ciggies.  and i don’t smoke. 

cosmo and kettle spicy thai chips

but i do drink.  action shot of this week’s thrifted cocktail glass.  i know i know, a cosmo - so 5 years ago (or maybe even more) – but i thought it was a better match for spicy chips.  the sweet/spicy combo.  and i’m sick of the margs.  oh, bite my tongue.  did i SAY that?  i’m never sick of the margs.  just wanted something a little different.

man it’s hot.

i’ve been waiting A LONG TIME to say that.

Not only am I now fighting my way through what seems like a never ending supply of courgettes from the allotment, the wet weather made me think about digging up some of the salad potatoes before they start to rot underground. I am bringing home bagful after bagful. So what better than to combine the courgettes and potatoes in a tasty, rösti style fritter, served on a bed of watercress with a generous side helping of home-made beetroot relish.

The quantities make about 6-8 rösti.

1 largish courgette
1 medium onion
5 medium waxy salad potatoes – Nicola or Charlotte are good
1 200g pack of feta cheese
1 medium egg
few springs of mint
salt and pepper
a little olive oil for frying

Grate the courgette, onion, potatoes (just give them a good scrub and leave the skins on) and cheese. Place in a large bowl and add the egg, chopped mint and seasoning. Give it a good stir.

Heat some olive oil in a large frying pan over a medium-low heat. Take a handful or forkful of the mixture and shape roughly into a burger shape (I cheated and used muffin/poaching rings). Place gently into the frying pan and fry off slowly until the potato is cooked and the underneath os golden. Gently flip over until the other side is nicely browned.

To serve, place a large bunch of watercress or lambs lettuce on the centre of a dinner plate. Place one or two rösti on top depending on how big you made them and how hungry you or your guests are. I served mine with some home-made beetroot relish made with beetroot, bramley apples, sugar, onions and vinegar. You could also use a simple natural yogurt, mint and chive dressing which I think would work well.

Rosti by Sigvard Bernadotte och Acton Bjørn

Trekking is kind of like a prehistoric masochistic pleasure.

You feel your feet grinding against rock and sand, as you draw in the sweet crisp air to fuel each step. This was traveling, before we began zipping about in cars and planes. We moved along because we put in effort – there was a realism in this kind of traveling because we see the trees pass us by, we hear the river gush past us, and we feel the wind brush past our faces. We sensed our travel. Motor and air travel feels more like teleportation – an experience exclusive to Man, thanks to our brilliant inventiveness. As a result, only mules, yaks, poor Himalyan folks, and er-hmm, trekkers, continue to enjoy this kind of travel. The others just teleport.

25-chickens-in-a-basket

From Jagat, it was a series of steep ascents up rock-strewn paths, in the relentless monsoon drizzle. We climbed 20 minutes solid before hitting level ground. Passing Chamje, a longish village littered with lots of horse poo, we made another long ascent, up a zig-zag path to a new summit, where we spotted a army sentry post. Beyond that, the scenic village of Tal nestled in a delta of soft black sand. The river meanders in a way to suggest the presence of a lake (hence “Tal”) by the village.

As we passed the arches of Tal, Tibetan prayer flags flapped in the winds. A sign on the nearest guesthouse greets us: Come as a guest, leave as a friend. We were entering a region called Gyasumdo, south of Manang Valley – culturally very different from the lowlanders of Lamjung. Mud and stone house replaced wooden huts, and pines and junipers replaced subtropical vegetation. Rain fell in fairytale-like feathery spray, no longer in discrete drops.

Tal

We passed another two hamlets – Kortro and Karte - before reaching Dharapani at about 5pm. By then, I was dripping wet underneath my poncho. Not from the rain, but from the perspiration under the poncho. Sometimes, I was tempted to throw off my stifling poncho, but the risk of falling sick this early in the trek was too big a deterrent. So, word of advice: get a good breathable rain jacket – saves you a bucket of misery.

By dinnertime, we were starting to feel the strain of the day. Our feet were sore, our bodies exhausted. Even by Desmond’s standard, the trek from Jagat to Dharapani was no stroll in the park. A false step on the narrow rock-strewn paths meant a long drop into the raging Marshyangdi below. Dharapani literally translated to water tap in Nepali, so the prospect of surviving a fall was rather grim. We made a 600m ascent in total, but going up and down the slopes probably meant we climbed much more than we bargained for.

The Raging Marshyangdi

Dinner was delicious Swiss rosti and fresh pumpkin soup at Green Park Hotel. You can’t really go wrong with any potato dishes in the area, even though the chefs are absent from most lodges in this off-peak season. Desmond had tuna pizza, but the cheese smelt kind of strange. I decided it would be wise to order dhaal bhaat for lunch, and something lighter for dinner. The heavy Nepali rice dish would provide energy for the later half of the day, and the lighter, fancier choice made sense since we usually go to bed after dinner (no cable TV and internet!). Managed to call my wifey from a payphone in Tal, but there is no mobile network coverage anywhere along the trek except for Chame and Jomsom.

>>Day Four: Dharapani-Chame

Ich weiss, ich weiss. Mein Geburtstag ist ja eigentlich schon länger her (über einen Monat), aber da ich den ja netterweise (danke lieber Körper) im Krankenhaus verbringen durfte, haben wir den gestern Abend jetzt nachgefeiert.

Man sagte mir, ich solle um 18.45 Uhr bereitstehen. Wohin es gehen würde, wollte man mir nicht verraten. Ich sollte mich einfach schick anziehen. Nicht zu casual, aber auch nicht zu dressy. Gut. Hab ich gemacht. Wurden auch pünktlich abgeholt. Unterwegs gleich noch an einem Autooccasionscenter vorbei gefahren. Haben wir gehalten? Ja klar. Autos angeschaut? Genau. War auch gleich was bei. Aber muss ja immer noch auf die lieben Herren Polizei und Versicherung warten. Nun gut, wird sicher noch mehr Angebote geben.

Um 19.20 waren wir dann (nach längerer Irrfahrt, damit ich nicht rausfinde wohin es geht) am Ziel. Und zwar auf der Röstifarm in Schinznach-Dorf (irgendwie will das mit dem Link heute nicht klappen – aber könnt es ja googeln).

Hab mich dann für eine Luzerner Rösti entschieden. War mehr als lecker. Dazu gabs ne Menge Wein (musste ja nicht fahren….) und zum Dessert dann ein Ananas Sorbet mit Red Curaçao (süss, ungewohnt, aber lecker). Ach ja, vor dem Essen gabs für jeden ein Bier. Klar war ich beschwipst. Vor allem vom Bier und den ersten Gläsern Wein auf nüchternen Magen. Gut, vertrage ich doch einigermassen viel (danke schottisches Blut).

Zu Hause hab ich mir (ich gestehs ja ein) noch ein Guinness aus dem Kühlschrank geholt (hey, war heiss und schwül draussen) und hab mir “Ice Age 1″ angeguckt. Nebenbei ein wenig im Internet gesurft. Dabei bin ich auf ein lustiges Video vom Red Nose Day 2007 in Great Britain gestossen. Das will ich euch nicht vorenthalten (ist auch lustig ohne Alkohol).

Also alles in allem: Ein toller Abend!

Motto: Deci astia nu se pricep doar la ceasuri, ciocolata si bani, nu?

Disclaimer:  Daca pui ciocolata peste un ceas si garnisesti cu bani iese: Rösti!

 Rösti (roesti si se pronunta rushti) e o mancare elvetiană despre care se spune că ar fi aparut în Berna undeva in secolul 15. La inceput era doar din cartofi iar multi considera acea reteta a fi adevarata mancare traditionala elvetiana (eu pana azi credeam ca e ciocolata). Eu fiind un om modern intr-o societate de moda veche…sau invers…am ales sa prepar reteta pe care patina timpului este mult mai vizibila asa ca mi-a iesit urmatoarea chestie (desigur cu cateva adaugiri proprii):

Dragi copii, treaba e simpla, pentru 4 portii se folosesc 3 cartofi maricei, 3 morcovi, 3 cepe (si ele maricele) si 3 ardei potriviti (mereu mi-am dorit sa ajung sa folosesc cuvantu asta pentru ca este un cuvant enervant prin cat de vag poate fi si astazi am ajuns si eu in sfarsit sa ii enervez pe altii ). Se dau toate prin razatoarea mare se adauga sare si se lasa vreo 20 de minute. La sfarsitul celor 20 de minute se storc (dar nu de tot) de suplimentul de zeama si se lasa in strecuratoare. Se incinge o tigaie in care se arunca cateva (mai multe asa ca am auzit ca, colesterolul face bine la inima) bucatele de kaiser cu ceva grasime care se lasa sa se rumeneasca si sa-si lase grasimea care o sa dea o savoare speciala legumelor. Cand s-a rumenit un pic kaiserul puneti peste legume oregano, boia iute, piper si cimbru si amestecati bine dupa care le puneti in tigaie intr-un strat gros cam de 2 cm si le lasati sa se faca in voie. Dupa 5 minute puneti un capac si le mai lasati inca 5 min maxim. Focul sa nu fie prea iute ca altfel se ard. Acum vine smecheria: felul in care se intoarce. Deasupra tigaii fie puneti o tigaie la fel, fie o farfurie si intoarceti ca pe clatita. Daca e tigaie o puneti pe foc, daca e farfurie  transferati placinta cu fata prajita in sus in tigaie. Ideea e sa o intoarceti fara sa ii stricati forma. Dupa ce ati intors-o va apucati de sos: cateva linguri de samntana dulce, un pic de mustar, oregano, cimbru, boia iute si rozmarin. Amestecati bine. O lasati si pe partea cealalta vreo 10 minute (dupa ceasul elvetian) dupa care o intoarceti de tot (dupa modalitatea de mai sus) pe o farfurie. Radeti cascaval – o sa se topeasca ca o ciocolata elvetiana –  (sau parmezan dar recomand cascavalul pentru ca nu isi imprima asa tare gustul) apoi turnati sosul si impaturiti de la jumate. Se mananca calda. Eu m-am dus pana la calculator si s-a mancat, nu calda ci singura…e un mister.  E o chestie usuara si delicioasa. Sa aveti pohta.

weather = spectacular.

thrifting planetary alignment this month seems to have me finding good bargains on rosti.

yup, here i go talking spatulas again.  but i’ve never had the good fortune to snag a rosti utensil holder before and *yay* now i’ve got one.  it’s a rosti party.

also found some cute drink accessories, namely these swedish coasters -

and i hate to buy anything when i don’t know anything about the product, but i blindly splurged and spent 4 bucks on this big alessi stainless steel bowl.  i liked the shape of it.  reminded me of danish design, yet it is made in italy.  and apparently they’re quite expensive to buy new.  who pays $100-$200 for a bowl in real life?  i couldn’t find this exact bowl on the alessi website, but i like the shape of mine better than anything they’re selling now.  score another one for ME. 

tried a new beer today made from sorghum and rice extract.  new grist beer.  it didn’t tickle my fancy the way redbridge did, but i must stress, it’s not bad.  it’s lighter and less hearty than redbridge. 

little tea time snack plate -

i realize the food i eat must look unappetizing as all get out.  but trust – it’s truly tasty.  or maybe i’m just used to it.  olive tapenade, rice crackers, soy crisps, and an ice cold beer in a really cute glass opened with a bird/seal/what-exactly-is-that danish bottle opener.  what’s happier than this happy hour for anyone who’s allergic to (almost) everything?

Das ist so ungefähr , was die Bürger vom Leben erwarten.

31. Mai 1968, Zürich

Aus dem „1. Flugblatt der Antiautoritären Menschen“: „Daß wir keine Befriedigung finden, geht voll auf das Konto derer, die uns angeben wollen, das Leben bestehe aus nichts anderem als Unterordnung und Vorwärtskommen. Respekt und Karriere. Lernen und Zeugnissen. Arbeit und Zahltag. Fleiß und Erspartem. Ruhe und Ordnung. Anstand und Gesetz. VW und Opel. Bratwurst und Rösti. Das ist so ungefähr, was die Bürger vom Leben erwarten.“

Aus: Kraushaar, Wolfgang: 1968. Das Jahr, das alles verändert hat, Piper München/ Zürich 1998, S.173.

Went Shokudo with B after our “beauty treatment” (OUCH!).

Actually, we wanted to go Botak Jones at Youth Park but the weather is too hot! So, we decided to go Heeren instead. Hehe…

It’s the first time for B (She is so mountain turtle lah! Haha… Just kidding.), so I brought her for a restaurant tour! Wow, we wanted to eat everything! But we are not so hungry as we had a lot of snacks earlier on. Keke… Don’t tell my mum! O_O!

Hot Green Tea

Hot Green Tea

Act healthy only! =P

Plain Rosti

Plain Rosti

Absolute favourite. I love potatoes! Mashed up, fried, chips, etc… & Rosti, of course! =) So much carbo and fattening right? Ya lor. But I just cannot stop myself. ><

Salmon Belly / Pork Belly Wrapped With Asparagus / Shiitake Mushroom

Salmon Belly

“Happy! Shalala.. We’re so happy! Shalala..”

Grilled to perfection! Love. We love Japanese food!

Die Thunfischfilets mit Salz, Pfeffer, Knoblauch und Zitronensaft marinieren, kurz in Olivenöl anbraten, und dann für 20 min. in den vorgeheizten Backofen geben und garen lassen.

In die zum Braten des Fisches verwendete Pfanne Obers, Senf, Petersilie, Salz und Pfeffer geben, und kurz aufkochen lassen (hier kann man auch nach Lust und Laune andere Gewürze oder auch Creme Fraiche, Rahm, sonstiges verwenden).

Erdäpfel kochen (sollte man als allererstes machen), schälen und dann in einer Pfanne oder einem Topf in viel Butter (das ist wichtig, mit Öl geht das nicht so gut) anbraten, während man sie mit dem Kochlöffel zerteilt. Salz, Pfeffer und Petersilie zugeben.

Das ist wiiiiiirklich ultralecker!

13.03.09

I doubt my Cherman-Swiss relatives would claim this. For one thing, we benched the box grater so these rustic “matchsticks” were cut by hand (I’ve read grating can make them gummy, which may actually be the point). Apparently, there’s also debate on whether or not to parboil your potatoes. We decided not to and here’s the skinny:

—Preheat oven to 400º

—Heat a good glug of olive oil and knob of butter over medium in a large sautée pan (you can and should use an ovenproof nonstick if you’ve got it*) and add your potatoes

—Stir constantly coating them in oil and add rosemary, unsheathed garlic cloves, and salt and pepper

—After 10 minutes on the stovetop pop into the oven for 25 minutes

—Take out and use a plate to press down on them before popping them back into the oven for 20-25 more minutes

—Flip out onto a plate then reform with your hands for the blog post picture when half of them don’t release immediately from the bottom of the pan

I’m not going to lie to you—these were delicious spuds. They were probably about halfway between roasted potatoes and fries with a lot of golden crunch. Just like a few previous posts, rösti is another one of those iconic hotel restaurant dishes that usually sits beside a tiny bowl of fruit salad getting cold. For that reason, it’s always a pleasure setting your childhood food grievences straight—

_Matt

*We only have a smallish nonstick so we used a large All-Clad stainless steel pan. A neat trick if you’re using stainless steel is the minute your potatoes start slightly sticking, you can leave them alone. They’ll release themselves after a time. If you keep messing with them they’ll cook onto the pan’s surface and you’ll have to soak it for 4 days. Trust me.