Anna N

A couple of family members recommended a very similar dill pickle salad kit from my local supermarket. I pointed out that it contained kale and I hated kale. You won’t notice the kale, they said. And I fell for it. They were so, so wrong. All I noticed in every single mouthful was that bloody kale, which will not break down no matter how long you chew. Ewwwwww.

I thought I should re-supply my pantry with Spam. Holy cow (pig?). $4.99 Canadian for 340g. That works out to $7.33 a pound. And if I want Tocino flavoured Spam then it’s $5.99 a can. Cheaper than grass-fed beef I’ll give you but…

Funny, but that was the one that appealed to me too and I was trying to figure out if I could pull it off. The biggest challenge would be the roll. I know there are appropriate rolls available in certain shops, but they are not the ones that do online sales. Still it’s not out of the question if I put some effort into it.

Spam to the rescue again. “There is at least one hint of a silver lining to the cost of living crisis. That’s right, Spam is back. According to Waitrose, sales are up 36% this year, as consumers turn their backs on more expensive fresh meat.” Here.

Oh no. That is not the news I and many others wanted to hear. The food certainly looks and sounds miles ahead of what you might get in my new ultramodern hospital five minutes from where I sit. Wishing you a short stay and a speedy return to your home.

Looking at the photographs of the cake, I would have to say that this is about as realistic as most recipes get for so many of us!

Yes, I am not prepared to give it up. It doesn’t get a lot of use these days, but then nothing does. If I could wish for it to have one more simple control it would be a timer. These days I like to know that things will shut off on their own. I suppose I should look into getting a timer switch or something. I think they are available.

Ah. I was not aware that it was available. Thank you.

I did not think this one through. It was inspired by a recipe from I Dream of Dinner. There is a section in the book called something like Emergency Egg Sandwiches. First I cooked the onions, then pan-toasted the bun, and finally fried the egg. (All done in/on the A4 Box.) But of course, with the yolk so runny, the sandwich was pretty much impossible to eat. Should have realized this, broken the yolk and flipped the egg over. The recipe also called for some chilli crisp which I discovered I don’t have.

I believe there are people here who call them “whomp” biscuits.

I was equally perplexed.

Thanks very much. One recipe does not a rabbit hole make, however. The Swedish recipes in many cases are only an ingredient or two away from an equivalent Danish recipe. No surprise there, of course, but that was what attracted me.

Except for the seasoning and the size it is the same nori as I use to wrap onigiri.

I had to be sure of what I was seeing and fell down the köttbullar rabbit hole. May have to spend some time there this lazy Sunday.

Are you buying duck breast or something else?

Thanks for this, @liuzhou. I am addicted to this. It is Korean and very good. I buy a large carton of it every two or three weeks.

Good for you. My grandma always said, “A bit of what you fancy does you good.” Probably more efficacious than TCM.

Thank you so very much.

@Kerry Bealdid a little digging and determined they were bahn cuon. This may be behind a paywall. But here’s the gist of it: Though banh cuon (say “baan? quoon?”) literally means rolled cakes, the term refers to the steamed rice sheets themselves, which may be served as is, laid out flat with toppings such as fried shallot and fresh herbs, or they may be filled and rolled. There are endless garnishes and sides to fancy things up, but regardless of presentation, banh cuon is typically enjoyed with a drizzle of or dunk into nuoc cham, the ubiquitous Viet tangy dipping sauce. I must say that the dipping sauce was much sweeter than nuoc cham.

Today @Kerry Bealand I had lunch from here. If anyone is up on their Vietnamese would love to see the descriptions translated especially if a Saigon bánh mì is something special. The place was extremely busy and Kerry was not prepared to hold up the line, asking for explanations. Kerry picked up extra bahn mi so I would have a couple of meals on hand. today we each had 1/2 of a pork sandwich, and 1/2 of a chicken sandwich. The other things on the plate I have no idea what they are called. They were very tasty, but challenging to eat as they are so floppy. Anyone?

Thanks for the link to the article and especially to the recipes @blue_dolphin. I think the green bean recipe would pass muster, but not much else. It seems as if the gremlins got into the recipe for the naan stuffing and didn’t know where to stop with the dried fruit!

If you are trying to curry favour with @Duvelyou could certainly do wurst.

He is quite worried that he might run out of whiskey glasses or beer mugs.

I do very little cooking these days, but I still buy the odd cookbook because I do enjoy reading them. Mostly, I like to jump on board @blue_dolphin’s bandwagon. Just a quick tally suggests that for the last two cookbooks she has acquired she has cooked 10+ recipes. I am sure in the statistical world she would be considered an outlier, but I’m so glad that she’s here. (I am still resisting Falastin, but only barely.)

But would we notice? According to an excerpt from an essay published in The Guardian, most of us who purchased a cookbook make 2 recipes from it. From here: And then there is this which is an extract from the above essay. Culinary Pleasures, Nicola Humble includes a pertinent story from the 1940s when a magazine inadvertently published a recipe with a fatally poisonous combination of ingredients. She doesn’t go into detail on what that might have been – a rhubarb leaf stew? A leftover rice dish involving sautéed autumn skullcap mushrooms? No doubt reeling, the editors notified the police and desperately tried to recall copies, then waited anxiously for reports of people falling ill. They waited … and waited. But none came. The editors could only conclude that not one of their readers had actually cooked from the recipe.