freaking out

New blog is coming.

New version of OLD blog is coming.

Improved blog of (sob) beloved blog is coming.

I'm SCARED.

I love my blog. I love how it looks, how pointlessly old-fashioned it is, how only-texty, how it doesn't scream at you, only gently says, "Hello, here's what has been happening, isn't it lovely/funny/touching," and "By the way, here's something you could whip up for supper."

I don't want to lose any of that, so I'm panicking a bit. A bit as I felt when I stood by and watched Avery have her first major haircut, from little-girl to "hairdo." Of course she was even more beautiful when she emerged, and still recognizable, but something of the Original, the Baby, was gone.

I just previewed two versions of The New And Improved Kristen in London. Made some suggestions (gently, this fellow owns my life right now!), tried to decide if I was being too picky... sighed over the completely new look...

I shall survive. It's only a matter of days before you, Dear Readers, are presented with the new choice. Then you can weigh in, and how I hope you WILL! We will tweak her (sorry, it) together. (Clearly, I have some issues going on here with adolescence in general, whether it's my daughter's or my blog's! All mothers want babies to stay small, even if they have better conversations with them when they're 13. For SURE).

Bear with me. Change is coming. And they say, change is... good. Don't they?

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of eruptions and interruptions

Two words: volcanic ash.

Who knew that two words could have such a devastating, discombobulating, disorienting effect on much of the world.

No flights.

In or out of the UK, as you all know by now, and this since Wednesday night. So my poor mother in law, who wanted nothing more than to be in Iowa on Thursday evening, is bravely sticking it out with us here this weekend, hoping to get out on Tuesday if the reports are safe and healthy.

I keep thinking how much I would like to get to Indiana on Wednesday. I do NOT want, however, to be part of the sort of seismological experiment entitled "How Much Volcanic Ash Does It Take To Shut Off Transatlantic Airplane Engines Headed for Detroit?"

In short, we're stuck. Can you believe it?

We've done:

Piccacilly: Hatchards (my favorite bookshop ever), plus lunch at the Wolesley with my friend JoAnn (duck livers in Madeira, halibut steaks and endless laughter) and the Van Gogh show (total yawn from Avery's and my perspective: we spent the entire time making up irreverent replacement titles for the very repetitive paintings ("Peasant With Bottom in Air Taking Care of Chickens and Possibly Dead Dog")

Highgate Cemetery (fascinating, ask for Josephine the Guide who is knowledgeable, funny and loyal to the cemetery)

Covent Garden (lovely spices from the Arabica company, including something called "Dukka" which was lovely on duck)

Avery's audition for a very silly-sounding sitcom like "Hannah Montana"

Portobello Market where we bought loads of presents I cannot describe here because their recipients will read about them! and lunch at E&O, possibly the best Asian fusion food in the city: seared tuna with miso aiol, crispy chilli squid, a beef dish with chopped peanuts in lettuce... words fail me. Perfection on a plate.

The Criminal Courts in the City (a murder case involving a young Kurd in a chicken shop who killed a man with a mop to get his cell phone)

The Lock and Canal Walk from Paddington Basin (a good five or six miles, be prepared, but in good weather it's delightful)

Camden Market (hideously crowded but found the BEST presents for everyone in Indianapolis, should I ever get there, and excellent donuts)

...........

We're in a tailspin.

All I can do is cook. Can I interest you in:

Salmon in Teriyaki Sauce
(serves 4)

4 fillets of salmon
2 cloves garlic, minced
1-inch knob ginger, grated
1/2 cup dark soy sauce
1/4 cup Japanese mirin (or sake)
1/4 cup honey
1 tbsp sesame oil
zest and juice of 1 lime
handful chives, chopped long

Line a baking dish with foil (very important as the sauce is very difficult to clean from baking dish!). Place salmon fillets in it.

In a small saucepan, place all marinade ingredients except chives and simmer until reduced just a bit, perhaps 5 minutes. Cool slightly, then pour over salmon fillets.

Cook either in a very hot oven (425F, 210C) for 20 minutes (or until opaque in center) or grill on one side for about 6 minutes, then turn and grill for another 4-5 minutes, JUST until cooked through.

Scatter with chives.

**************


Haddock with Tartar Sauce and Savoy Cabbage and Curly Kale Saute
(serves 4)

2 inches high (in a wide, shallow pan) tasteless oil like rapeseed or sunflower oil

4 pieces haddock loin fillets
2 eggs, beaten
2 tbsps cream

1 1/2 cups fresh breadcrumbs
3/4 cup cornstarch (cornflour)
salt and pepper

3/4 cup mayonnaise
tbsp capers, chopped
6 cornichons, chopped
juice of 1 lime
pinch dried dill
pinch dried tarragon
black pepper and salt to taste

CABBAGE:
3 tbsps butter
1 tbsp olive oil
1 head Savoy cabbage, chopped
2 handfuls curly green kale, chopped
salt and pepper to taste

Mix eggs with cream in a wide bowl. Mix breadcrumbs with cornflour and salt and pepper in a flat plate.

Mix following ingredients for the tartar sauce and set aside.

In a medium saucepan, over low heat, toss butter, oil, cabbage and kale until JUST slightly limp, then season and turn off heat.

To prepare fish, heat oil to nearly smoking. Meanwhile, coat each fillet of haddock in egg mixture, then in breadcrumb/cornflour/seasonings mixture. One at a time, lower into hot oil carefully. Cook on each side about 2-3 minutes, until firm. Drain on paper towel.

Serve with sauce and cabbage. Perfectly crunchy, light and you'll never go for fish and chips again. At least, until I learn to make chips and teach YOU.

*****************

So until the air clears, I'm stuck cooking for my growing household. Tonight, close to midnight, Avery and I walked to school to pick up a friend back from a school trip in Italy, to stay with us until her parents, stranded in America, can get back.

"Can I just tell you," chortled Avery as we trundled along with Lille's suitcases through the dark neighborhood toward home, "How extremely funny it is that your trip back from POMPEII was delayed by... a volcano."

Trust a teenager to make it funny.

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one more apologetic, photoless update

My goodness.

Life has been simply crazy of late. The last two weeks have simply SPED by in the company of my beloved mother-in-law who always makes every event three times as much fun, just by being there. And there have been SO MANY events.

The burglary has also set me back as I just cannot retrieve photographs from our old iPhoto sources with any ease. I depend on poor John to teach me to do everything, since my old system was stolen out from under me.

For my own sanity, may I list: "Six Degrees of Separation" was a mixed bag, theatre-wise. Strong performances, the most thought-provoking notion just in and of itself: how many degrees separate you from anyone you can imagine? Us from the Queen? Not so many as you'd think. John worked once at Goldman with someone who is now a Gordon Brown staffer. There you go: three degrees. Angelina Jolie? Avery had a school chum whose mother was best buddies with Elton John. At most, three degrees? Mother Teresa? Just add one from the Queen to Princess Diana, and there you go. We couldn't come up with ANYONE for whom we needed six actual degrees. And neither do you, if you know me. That's just one extra degree.

The play itself? Memorable mostly for the two naked male bodies fresh from a gay encounter, leaping about the stage. "Concealing a gun? Look at me! I don't think so!" Poor Avery didn't know where to look. Today, as I was recounting the story, she said, "I was FINE about it, it was just sitting next to YOU when it happened that was embarrassing!"

Ditto "The Last Station", a film about Tolstoy, with my adored crush James McAvoy in the supporting actor role. Well... one of the major plot lines was his deflowerment, by a young Tolstoyian maiden. Again, averted eyes, and "if you hadn't been next to me...!" A bit too much education, all of a sudden. But as my dear friend Jo said today, none of it is the first, nor will it be the last, so get used to it all!

There have been countless fabulous shopping trips (Benefit for Avery, food for me in many different places, the Apple store for John to replace our stolen computers)... and meals, my goodness! Last night's fried haddock with fresh olive oil-rosemary breadcrumbs from Gail's in Hampstead, homemade tartare sauce on the side! The Easter ham and its accompanying dauphinoise... fillet of beef with mushroom duxelles... pork medallions with sage, cream and brandy sauce...

Most of all, it's been the company of one of my favorite people on earth, plus two other of my favorite people on earth. Together, the four of us huddle down wherever we are, enjoying each other, raising a glass as many times as we can to John's beloved, much-revered, completely-missed father, feeling that as long as we can remember him to each other, laugh over our memories, he is still here.

Right. Tomorrow I shall consolidate photographs and tell you about Wiltshire. Specifically, Salisbury. Its Cathedral Close formed our home for six days, and its people were a complete delight. One in particular... but that's another story.

I promise I'm getting back on track and tomorrow? A recipe.

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lolling in Salisbury

Just the tiniest of updates to let you know all is well...

We are photographless for two reasons: one, we were unceremoniously burgled last week, AGAIN, and all photos are gone. Except for the ones we have taken since, and we have come away to Wiltshire (MUCH more on this soon!) without that essential piece of equipment that allows us to connect computer to camera, and to exchange all the blessings thereof.

So all I can say, briefly is this: 380 Cathedral steps up to the spire (whew), 5+ miles walk today to see the settings of several pivotal scenes of "Pride and Prejudice" (proposal in rain: swoon on cue).

And tonight: the best Indian meal EVER in the history of mankind: black lentils in honey and yogurt? Twice-roasted pork in vindaloo? Spinach with garlic and fenugreek leaves?

But wait: tomorrow will bring... dinner here with an exalted guest: our guide of the Salisbury Tower Tour. He is quite simply the most charming gentleman any of us has met in about a thousand years, so it was but the work of a moment to invite him to mozzarella-stuffed meatballs in the Wardrobe, our abode high above the Cathedral Close, tomorrow evening. Watch this space.

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