A Little Comfort Food.

RHYS BOWEN:  It's been rather a stressful couple of weeks for me. Closing up the condo in Arizona and moving back to California for the summer, doing a book tour for TIME OF FOG AND FIRE through Southern California, then the dreaded income tax, to Las Vegas to receive a career achievement award at the RT convention, and off next week to DC for Malice Domestic.

At times like this I find myself turning to comfort foods. And these are usually foods from my childhood. When I was pregnant I craved my mother's lamb stew with dumplings only in those days most supermarkets in America didn't carry lamb. When I go back to England I feast on all my old favorites: fish and chips, bangers and mash, definitely Cornish pasties and cream teas, but also smoked haddock or kippers for breakfast, as well as the full English with bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, baked beans, sausage etc etc. The good thing about that is that one doesn't need to eat lunch. The bad thing is that it's about a billion calories!

The comfort food I've been indulging in for lunch recently is my trusty grilled cheese and tomato soup. I make the tomato soup with milk, not water, to give added protein. Sometimes I sprinkle grated cheese over the top. And the grilled cheese is really grilled under the broiler, not fried grilled cheese the way it is served here. When I was a college student doing finals my roommate and I lived on grilled cheese, cooked over the gas fire in our room. We became quite good at not dripping cheese over the hearth.

It's ironic that when I'm sent on a book tour I stay at luxury hotels and can order anything I want. This is fun for a couple of days but then my thoughts revert to comfort food. "Could you just poach me one egg with toast?" I ask the breakfast waiter. In Atlanta once the girl looked horrified when I asked for that. "Don't you even want no grits with it?" she asked.

My other big comfort food is soup. Good hearty chicken soup made with the whole chicken and lots of veggies and beans, or my favorite curried parsnip or carrot and ginger in the winter.  And I have to confess to another favorite food that will make most of you shudder. MARMITE ON TOAST. I'm afraid you have to be born with British genes to like Marmite. When I've served it to Americans they always look as if I'm trying to poison them. But spread thinly on hot buttered toast it is the best!  I think I'll go and have some now......

What are your comfort foods?

Hannah Dennison's Deadly Desires in the English Counryside

RHYS: I am so delighted to welcome fellow Brit Hannah Dennison today as I am currently living the life she writes about in her wonderful Honeychurch Hall mystery novels. The beauties and quirks of the English countryside, and to be more specific, the West Country.  Hannah has a new Honeychurch Hall mystery out and will be giving away two copies, so read on:

 

HANNAH DENNISON: “O To Be in England.  Now that April’s here.” Well … it’s actually May, but I think Robert Browning’s “Home Thoughts From Abroad” sums up my feelings perfectly.

After twenty-two years as an ex-pat, I find I’ve become more English rather than less. Perhaps that’s because both my mystery series—The Vicky Hill Mysteries and The Honeychurch Hall Mysteries—are set in Devon. So you could say that physically, although I pen my novels in Oregon where I now live, mentally, I’m always in England.

I’ve never lived in London. In fact, the first taste I had of life in the big city was when I moved Los Angeles way back in 1993. It was a culture shock of such magnitude—rather like my first earthquake—that it needs a post all of it’s own. In a way, writing about England helps cure my acute homesickness especially as I discovered wonderful Anglophiles eager to hear about the charming—and often strange—customs and quirky oddities that we like to think make Britain great and that I often take for granted.

It’s not just the cream teas we Brits are famous for, but also the village flower shows, amateur dramatic performances in freezing cold parish halls, church fetes or the odd Morris dancing festival or two. These things you just won’t find in London. So I thought I’d share a few photos from last summer’s Diptford Garden Show in Devon. Competition was fierce, feelings ran high, lamas ran rampant and feathers were definitely ruffled.

 

 

The charming thing about village life is that in some places milk is still delivered to the front door. My mother lives on a country estate where “Malcolm the Meat” comes on Mondays and “Fred the Fish” on Fridays. Walk through any village and you’ll come across empty jam jars full of freshly cut flowers or punnets of raspberries or tomatoes alongside a little honesty box. That would never happen in Los Angeles!

RHYS: I should add that when it was suggested that Hannah's mother's house was maybe too much for her and she should look for another, simpler place to live, instead she went and bought a wing of a stately home!

 

HANNAH:

I feel lucky to be able to write about a place I love so much. In fact, we’re giving away two copies of “Deadly Desires at Honeychurch Hall” in a free raffle so you can read about it too.

 

 

 RHYS:All you need to do is to visit Hannah's website, www.hannahdennison.com, and find out in which English county Honeychurch Hall is set, then leave a comment guessing the correct location Your location options are: Shropshire, Kent, Devon, Cumbria or Surrey. Hannah will select two winners at the end of the day. And if you want a vicarious trip to England, then just read her books!

 HANNAH: Rhys, thanks so much again for hosting me on Jungle Red, one of my absolute favorite blogs.

 

 

A Nice Cup of Tea

RHYS BOWEN:

I couple of weeks ago my favorite stationary store closed. It was my go-to place for a whole range of things—the best selection of greeting cards, any size of envelope, any kind of pen, amusing little gifts for friends’ birthdays and even a tempting display of scarves, bags, jewelry. At Christmas it had crackers—the type that go bang, not the ones you eat with cheese. I’d always find what I needed and also something to surprise and tempt me.  But it couldn’t complete with Staples and Office Max where I have to buy twenty-four envelopes when I want just one.

So I find myself lamenting the last of a way of life I grew up with. The main street of small shops, each individually owned by people I knew. Granted it took longer to go to the grocer for sugar and then have to go next door to the dairy for milk. But the butcher would tell me which cuts of meat I didn’t want to buy and which I did. The fishmonger had fresh fish, delivered from that boat that morning. And the little haberdashery—well, they had everything from elastic to sewing thread to woolen undergarments. If you asked for it. They had it. And with each shop one stopped and passed the time of day.

                I still find that in some parts of England. When I visit relatives in Cornwall I love walking down the main street in Falmouth, gazing with longing at the fishmonger’s slab of lovely fish freshly caught. And the pasty shop with the smell of just baked pasties. And everyone calls you “My lovey” and has time to chat.

                It’s definitely one of the things I miss about England, although every town now has a huge hypermarket there too. But one thing that does seem to be vanishing from jolly old England is the cup of tea. It has always been the symbol of hospitality. Go to visit and the first thing the hostess used to say is “I’ll put the kettle on.” In many working class homes the tea pot sat on the hob, hot and full, all day in case somebody stopped by for a chat. And the tea stewed stronger and stronger!

                If someone was in an accident, suffering from shock, they were given a cup of tea. If someone was upset in any kind of disaster—the bombings of World War II, floods or fires,  they were given a cup of tea. It was a symbol that everything was going to be all right.

                But today’s generation doesn’t drink tea. Drive around Britain and you’ll see Starbucks and Costa’s Coffee on every corner. When we stay with people it’s coffee at breakfast. Those with leisure still have their afternoon cuppa at four, but it’s mostly older folks like us. The young have no time for leisure, or cuppas.

                Of course one can still find tea at the Ritz (for fifty pounds or so), at Brown’s and other very posh hotels. And in Devon and Cornwall they still serve the famous cream teas with local clotted cream. Yum. I’m sad to see tea dying out—both as a drink when one needs a pick-me-up and as a meal in the afternoon. To me it was the most civilized of meals—tiny cucumber sandwiches, home made scones with jam (and sometimes cream), little cakes, slices of rich fruit cake. All extra calories, I confess, but such pleasant calories with time for chatter and reenergizing. We sometimes serve tea as a treat to family and friends, but mostly they are too busy—rushing off to swim practice or karate or with too much homework. We live in a world that is too busy, too rushed, and that’s a great pity.

So what do you miss about our current lifestyle? Any nostalgia to share?

Pairings, not couplings!

RHYS BOWEN: In the Huffington Post last year there was an interesting blog on pairing wine and music. So I thought we'd take this one stage further and let's pair books, wine and food. (Or should it be trio not pair three things?) Does it help to have particular food or drink when you read? Does it enhance the reading experience?

There are obvious examples. When I am reading one of Louise Penny's books and it's winter in Quebec, I need a rug over my knees. I need a hot chocolate to sip.
If I'm reading Morse I need Scotch and opera in the background.
If I'm reading Jacqueline Winspear's Maisie Dobbs series, or someone wants to read my Royal Spyness books, may I suggest scones, clotted cream, jam and proper English tea (not made from those awful bags of floor sweepings!)

fellow Jungle Red Deborah Crombie's books need a pint of good ale to go with them. And a pasty,scotch egg, bangers and mash? Now I'm getting hungry.

I love reading about food. I love good descriptions of meals. I love books with recipes in the back. In my upcoming Royal Spyness book, called The Twelve Clues of Christmas, we linger over several Christmas feasts and I even provide some recipes.

So do you love to read about food? Do you like recipes in books? What would some of your food/wine/books pairings be?

ROSEMARY HARRIS: I may be in the minority but I don't like to eat or drink when I'm reading. Maybe a glass of lemonade if I'm outside in the hammock, but even then I usually get so absorbed in the book that flies and no-see-ums drown in the glass before I have a chance to take a second sip.

And since you mentioned it and I am in England - what is the deal with clotted cream? I can't bring myself to ingest anything that sounds like Arterial Plaque in a Tub. What does it taste like?

LUCY BURDETTE: Don't hold back on the clotted cream Ro--especially if it's served with scones! Tastes like whipped cream, only better.

The only true pairing I can think of is must read the New York Times while I'm eating breakfast cereal.

HALLIE EPHRON: Mmm, clotted cream. Tastes like really sweet butter to me. Or creme fraiche. Sublime with a mound of fresh raspberry jam on a hot flaky scone.

I do like food with my fiction. I like food any time. You can tell which books on my shelf I've read by the grease and coffee spots on the pages.

I'll read Lucy's "An Appetite for Murder" with a big wedge of Key lime pie and a grouper sandwich.
A hot dog with "Shoeless Joe."
Honey on toast with "The Secret Life of Bees."
A dry martini with "The Group."
A nice dark glass of red wine with "Dracula."
Pomegranate and walnuts with "Like Water for Chocolate."
Barbecued spare ribs with "Fried Green Tomatoes in the Whistle Stop Cafe."

RHYS: Hallie, I'd love to see the state of your book if you're reading it with barbecued spare ribs. I always end up so messy if I've tackled them. I wouldn't have a clean hand to hold the book!

JAN BROGAN _ I'm with Ro on not liking to eat or drink much when I'm reading - but I do have to have one of my husband's Latte's when I'm reading the Sunday Boston Globe.

 I'm more influenced by television. Completely and thoroughly impressionable I like  to have a sherry with Downton Abbey (and I don't really LIKE sherry, except to cook), and a glass of red wine with the Good Mother (Juliana Margulies is always having one)   and old episodes of Poldark (where they even seem to have wine in the morning).  I often crave a martini with Madmen, but its too damn late on a Sunday night to consider it.
DEBORAH CROMBIE: Okay, I have to confess--I went out and bought a bottle of sherry during the last season of Downton Abbey.  It wasn't very good sherry, unfortunately, and it's just not quite right if you're not dressing for dinner.

Ro, if you're going to try clotted cream, you must find somewhere that has really good clotted cream.  (I'd suggest going to Devon but that might be a bit far...) And the scones should be warm, and the strawberry jam should be homemade...

I love books with food, books about food, books with recipes, and although I'm not really big on eating while reading, I do like to try things I read about in books.  Or things I write about--I learned to like really good Scotch when I wrote Now May You Weep, although I don't drink it often.  It makes me want to be curled up in front of the fire in a B&B in the Scottish Highlands, with a tartan rug over my knees.

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: I remember reading A DISCOVERY OF WITCHES and constantly wanting to take part in the character's food and drink. I understand Deborah Harkness is a wine blogger as well as a fiction author, and you can really tell in that book. There's a description of the meal (and wine pairings) that the heroine first makes for the vampire hero, who can't eat anything that's been cooked or, if I recall correctly, heated. First time I ever considered the "raw foods" movement might have something going on.

And I totally agree with Jan and Deb - a nice glass of sherry for Downton Abbey! You could do a drinking game - Mary and Matthew look longing at each other: one sip. Thomas and O'Brien light one up while plotting outside the kitchen: two sips. Lady Edith gets inadvertently cut down by a family member: chug!