balmagowry

Welcome, blil! Um... here's a long-shot Do-You-Know: does the name Ellen Evans ring any bells?

Sigh. I keep hoping someone will find a way to import the Moroccan roses. When I was there five years ago I fell madly in love with some beautifully light, dry wines from Celliers de Meknes. Never imagined thinking of a rose as "crisp," but crisp these undoubtedly were. Gris le President is the only name that leaps to mind at the moment, and it may not be exactly accurate; I do have the labels filed somewhere, though - must hunt 'em up and list 'em here. Not that it'll do any good, I suppose, but it will be a pleasure to see them again. [EDIT for additional crispness....]

You wouldn't. But an herb and an actor are not necessarily the same thing. (Less'n the actor's named Herb, of course.) Same spelling, though - in a perfect world (which this is, right?) that oughta count for SOMEthing.... :sigh:

Yup, and a highly popular one at that. I believe you'll find him in at least one other book you own , along with several other PD critters from those useful Dover collections.... More than one, if you have the paperback edition of Serious Pig. As Charlotte once said, that is "SOME PIG."

So...??? How was it? Inquiring minds really do want to know. Report! Pictures! We want pictures!

Maybe it's "bad luck" because parsley seems to transplant so bady. Same thing with cilantro - so much as look at it with a spade in your hand and it keels over dead. Direct-seeded in the sol it does fine until the warm weather comes and it bolts. ...and then obligingly reseeds itself for the next season. Yes, that probably is the real reason for the parsley superstition, but the reasons assigned by folklore are far more colorful. They say that only the truly virtuous can grow parsley; conversely, there are those who say that an ability to grow parsley is proof of desperate wickedness. (If you think about it, these both mean exactly the same thing: one-upmanship and sour grapes.) There are picking myths about parsley and virginity; parsley and pregnancy; in each case, both pro and con. A superstition for everyone. There are several variations on the theme that in order to grow parsley you have to follow its root all the way down to the devil in hell and then back again; alternatively, that the root itself makes that round trip but that the gardener need not tag along. Last year I discovered a related truth the terrifying way: there is another member of the umbelliferae family that looks like an enormous mutant Queen Anne's Lace but is actually dreadfully poisonous even to the touch; it is known as Giant Hogweed, and fortuitously I learned all this on the day after I discovered one in my cold frame and dug it out with a spading fork and my bare hands, thank you very much! How I escaped dire consequences, I don't know; somehow the luck of the stupid was with me that day. The descriptions in the following day's newspaper (what are the odds?) barely did the thing justice: it was some seven feet tall, its stem a good three inches in diameter; and its taproot (think: huge pale carrot or parsnip) certainly did reach all the way to hell and back. Ugh. Though classified as an invasive, noxious weed, they are extremely rare on Long Island, and long may they remain so. Apparently the culprit was an accidental bird; I'm just glad the consequence wasn't an accidental disfigurement, or worse! IAC, you can see why I'm quite happy to live by my mother's dictum. I don't transplant parsley.

That is not pitiful! It grows and you can eat it - nothing pitiful about that. (OK, so maybe it lacks variety... that's easy to remedy. ) I like to start most things from seeds or cuttings, but I generally end up picking up a whole plant or so as well. (This year... I don't think we're ever even going to have spring this year, so who knows what I'll do.) Here on this part of the Guyland we're lucky to have a pretty good selection; between one chain (Frank's) and a couple of good local nurseries I've usually managed to find most of the more exotic stuff I want. (I'm surprised about Home Depot - I haven't done too badly there in the past, though it's been a while since I've bought there.) I'm pretty sure someone has already mentioned up-thread that you can't start proper French tarragon from seed - only cuttings or a whole plant will do. Also, there is a superstition about transplanting parsley; it's supposed to be very bad luck. (Why? for a long series of mutually contradictory reasons, about which I'm planning to write an article one of these days, because most of them are quaint or funny or charming or at least interesting....) I pretend to be all modern and not care about superstitions, but when you get right down to it I don't care to chance it. My mother taught me never to transplant parsley... so I don't. Actually, I don't have a lot of luck growing some of the easier things, like parsley, chervil, dill; fortunately in the cases of parsley and dill I don't need to because in my mother's garden I have inherited the self-seeders from hell. No - to be fair, the parsley is relatively civilized - in fact last year the Italian parsley put itself into a nice neat row, neater than I could ever have made myself. The dill... year after year, it's The Dill That Ate Long Island. I simply cannot pull it out or give it away fast enough to keep up with its invasiveness. Such problems everyone should have, I guess. So I do give it away, literally pounds at a time, and I also (as discussed on other herb threads) freeze enough to keep me well-supplied year-round. Of course some of it always ends up in the compost, so.... Rosemary and sage - well-established, years ago. The rosemary from cuttings, the sage from seed. I like to start basil from seed, indoors, around - uh-oh, right around now - so that I have decent-sized plants, and a LOT of them, to put in at tomato-planting time. YMMV, depending on zone, of course. Other things I've started successfully from seed, over the years: thyme, hyssop, savory, melissa, lovage, rue, etc. Last year the thyme died out and I got lazy and bought plants. Don't remember where my chives came from - divided, I think, from a neighbor's. Lavender - I've had better success with plants than seed, but I think that's just me. Oregano - cuttings. Including Mexican oregano, wildly healthy, almost semi-succulent, takes root if you so much as look at it. I also like to grow scallions from crowded onion sets - in fact, although I've never done a proper garlic or shallot planting, I also throw a few of each of those in the ground just for the greens, which I love snipped into salads and some soups. Oh, and I too, with rare exceptions, have had good luck with mail-order plants. Got all my roses (OGRs) that way, except for the rugosas which run rampant all over the island and transplant easily, then send out invasive runners in all directions.

So am I. In fact, I'm thinking this might be worth creating. In fact, I think this might deserve its own thread. In fact, think I'll go start same - with acknowledgment to Lala, of course.

Yes, you can! Sure you can! It goes very nicely with lamb, and it can do wonderful things with lemon. Mmmmmmm... lavender.... Alright, I will give it a try. Thank you for the advice! Somewhere in my To Be Filed pile :shudder: are a couple of recipes; I'll look 'em out for you one of these days when I'm feeling brave.

Not only cities but states. You can't buy it anywhere in NY - far as I know the only states in the northeast where you can get it are CT and NH. It's also quite pricey, so from here on out I shall probably be using something else for bitters. Tuna Colada... can't you just see Hermione Gingold doing the Goya commercial for it...?

Yes, you can! Sure you can! It goes very nicely with lamb, and it can do wonderful things with lemon. Mmmmmmm... lavender....

Yeah, it's "Memoirs of a Yellow Dog," but I couldn't remember off the top of my head what actually transpires in that saloon that the "son of a door mat/seltzer lemonade" drags his master into...and a Gin Fizz happened to be high in my thoughts. Sic semper. "Hot scotches he took... For over an hour he kept the Campbells coming." Huzzah! Not many people know that story, which "'s a shame, doggie, 's a darned shame." "Him?" said the black-and-tan. "Why, he uses Nature's Own Remedy: he gets spifflicated." My own dog now being a black-and-tan, I find this particularly apposite. Know it well. The Guyland does not easily forget old names.

Majesty... :curtsey: I am delighted I was able to serve the royal cause. It is well. Indeed I am well-pleased to be drinking that which is slightly stronger and less sweet; it befits not only my humble station but also my plebeian taste buds. Methinks this fortuitously-discovered alternative may well prove to be a GREAT deal better than nothing - especially if a benign Providence ( ) should will that it be distributed unto the purveyors in the royal demesne. And should it be so, I trust your majesty will apprise us of the fortunate event. It will be an incalculable privilege. (Note to humble self: bring own large amethyst ring along; it may yet turn out that there's more than one queen in this hive.) Perhaps that will also be the occasion for the side-by-side ceremony of which you speak. O, hasten the day!

:Rises creakily from one knee: Thank you, your majesty, your DQ-ness. I am both humbled and gratified by this great honor. I hope I may always so comport myself as to bring honor to the brethren. But... but... have the full implications of this discovery burst upon you yet? Do you see? If the Syrup Grail is to be found lurking incognito on the shelves of an obscure Pathmark in West Babylon, for all love, where else might it not be? We know that there is something of the Grail in all of us; likewise, may there not be something of coffee syrup hidden even in the lowliest local corner grocery? Click your heels together three times and run do not walk to your nearest market - you may be closer to the taste of home than you think! But do not confine your search to the obvious places; look among the despised, the rejected; for verily, the time has not yet come when every valley shall be exalted and every mountain and hill made low. Behold, I shall post unto you a picture, which shall be to all people, and this picture shall be of the unassuming Grail of my finding; and thus shall you know it, unless it befalleth that yours shall appear in altogether other guise, which is of course always possible.... The Grail Itself Relevant Detail of Label

As long as there's a Gin Fizz at the end of that monicker it suits me fine. Nope - only a broken leash and the Rocky Mountains. We are, um, talking about the same O. Henry story, aren't we? If not, your reference to seltzer lemonade is some kinda weird scary hoodoo and maybe I better gitouttahere. We called it "Port." Others, well.... Ask LibationGoddess; she knows it all too well. And you? South Shore - barrier beach. Sail the Pauline on the Great South Bay, passing right under the Moses Causeway.

Catnip! Yes! and also catmint - nepeta cataria. I used to have a little bay tree, but it died - it died - it died. I used to have lemon grass in a pot, but the cats ate it all.

Not last time I checked, although I've been known to bite at a seltzer lemonade. Aha! Thought so. (Though I had a moment's doubt when you didn't pick up on the "nomenclatural tin can on the tail or one's self-respect.") Well then, unless you whine dolefully, I'm going to call you 'Pete." So, Pete - what part of the Guyland?

I still wanna know if he's a saffron-colored son of a doormat. EDIT: OMG, this is my 500th post!

So far the weather has smothered my green-fingered-ness - pity, because it means no peas for July 4th. Well, hell, it SNOWED on St. Patrick's Day, so what could I do? It's supposed to SNOW again tonight, which is outrageous - I'm just hoping it lets up soon or I'll be tempted to blow off the whole season. Fortunately, my valiant bulbs and perennials don't give a damn - they will shame me into a better frame of mind soon, I hope. Borage - here in Zone 7, too soon for me to plant it yet; I don't put it in until I set out my tomatoes (end of May), with which it is extremely compatible (like marigolds, it repels various nasty insect predators). Its other chief use in my view is that it is an essential ingredient in old-fashioned claret-cup (you can use a cucumber peel instead, but it just isn't the same). Also, the pretty blue blossoms are edible, though I never remember to use them; you can candy them (egg white & sugar) or put them in a salad. Other herbs I generally grow - oof, I think the shorter list might be the ones I don't. Several varieties of basil (I'm taking the fifth on pronunciation!); dill; parsley; chervil; sage; three kinds of rosemary; French tarragon; savory; four kinds of thyme; oregano (Mexican and non-); chives; hyssop; lovage; rue; savory (winter & summer); melissa - then the decorative/flowering things that do double duty: nasturtium; centaury; lavender; artemisia; various scented pelargoniums; various violas; various marigolds. I think my saffron crocuses have almost died out, and I probably won't renew them - a cool thing to grow in theory, but not worth the trouble. I'm trying to find gentian seeds or starts for this season, but they are proving rather difficult to come by. Have a feeling I'm forgetting something....

You're right, I guess it isn't the place. It's odd, though, because just for the hell of it I did google it this morning to see if it had changed its spots since I last studied it... and all the references I saw in a couple of pages' worth of hits were unanimous as to its history and interpretation in rhetoric. How does one resolve this? Now you've got me seriously curious, because I've heard a lot of people use "beg the question" when what they really mean is "ask the question" - and as with the inevitably controversial "Bay-zil" (sigh) I sure would like to get it nailed down. Yup, me too. And "cue-linary," as well. Sounds a little affected to me, sometimes, but I say it anyway, and devil take the hindmost.

Not really. Of course language and usage keep evolving. But it is very often possible to trace a particular element in their evolution to some definite event. There just might be some really interesting identifiable reason for this particular change, and that is what I keep hoping to find. Hell, it might even be apocryphal - that'd be OK too. Like, for instance... it is possible to explain the origin of the term "mugwump" based on its historical context; likewise the modern use of "shibboleth" to mean a test of inside knowledge. Closer to home, it is easy to explain why one would pronounce "shallot" as "sha-LOTT," even though when viewed out of context that appears to be a violation of normal standards of English pronunciation. OK, so THAT is the kind of explanation I keep hoping to find. A girl can dream. Y'know, it's so long since I consulted it that at this moment I disremember whether it was the 2nd or 3rd edition that was so roundly censured by the language community - whichever one it was, though, a good deal of it made its way into the on-line version, which is why I tend to take it with many grains of salt. It sure is - and that's exactly why I value it for Quixotic quests like this one, history of usage being EXACTLY what I'm trying to track down! That's kind of hard to reconcile with the fact that mozzarella comes from Campania. :groan: Waaaah! That's why the word was in quotes! The cheese is from Campania; it is the undistorted pronunciation which is traditionally referred to as "purest Tuscan" (hence the old saying lingua romana in bocca toscana) - at least, hell, that's what they used to call it in the 19th century. What century are we in now? If it means losing all those quaint old locutions, I don't think I want to play in it any more. :sulk: EDIT to add: Oops, got confused on that last bit about which reply was directed at whom - sorry - trust it isn't impossible to sort out.

Damn, Carolyn must be away for the weekend. :sulk: Who said she could? Here I was looking forward to suprising her, and now I have to wait. Phooey. I don't like waiting. The suspense is killing me! :sulk: EDIT: PAGING CAROLYN TILLIE! PAGING CAROLYN TILLIE!

Ah - thread convergence. We were discussing this recently over on the Italy forum - it's a holdover from strong regional dialects. I want to say "mootzarell'" is Sicilian, but suddenly I'm not sure; "mozzarella," however, is what used to be called "purest Tuscan."

OK, that's a start. Hey, it's a reason, anyway, if not an origin. Trade you an apple for half a cookie? Isn't it funny, though, how habits become part of one. I say "ba-sil" (not "BAH-sil," but with the 'a' pronounced as in "back") instead of "BAY-sil" for exactly the converse reason: because that's how I had always heard it (and it never troubled me because it matches all the other Basils), and now also because I think "BAY-sil" sounds stupid and pretentious coming from my mouth. Go figure.

Cue-min. But somebody's gonna insist it's "Come In!" (Great smiley!) Yup - depends what effect you're looking to produce. Uh-oh... I feel a series of knock-knock jokes coming on. Somebody stop meeeeee..... Whew - thank you. How about oib. As it happens, I can answer that one with authority, because my father's name is Oib. I mean Erb. I mean Herb. Then again, there are those in-laws who persisted in calling him Albert, or (Lower East Side accent) Elbert. I think that may be the answer: I'm going to start cooking with elberts - "elbs" for short.