King

So, as I said before, I want Garnish to be more than food.
Voila, a little garnish in the form of coveted wearables.

This beautiful piece would be a creation of Nicholas King, British jeweler. I photographed this sometime in March, and its just one of many from his Autumn Winter 2011/2012 collection.

Any one of his pieces are standalone wonders, but come together very nicely.
This animal print, bejewelled, Eiffel Tower-ed wonder was my favorite bracelet from that collection.
I float toward geometric pieces and simplicity. And the inside print is enough spaz that I'm comfortable pairing it with a black dress, black heels and calling it a day. That's just the kind of girl I am.

Note: It seems that his online shop is having a sale on a few items, so head on over to grab some pieces you may like. There is even a pair of cuff links for men that I'm a bit fond of myself.

A Heavy Summer

Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.
But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush
The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.
I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not.
-- "Blackberry-Picking", Seamus Heaney



This might be my favorite poem. I don't read poetry. And the first time I read it was in a high school English course. Perhaps a bad sign. But I keep coming back to it.



Usually, I think of lust, gluttony, unrestrained joy and the irresistibility of things. Now, I look at the poem in a different light. Of loss, of overindulgence and of regret. It's summer and all I want is that unrestrained joy of picking blackberries and tasting that sweet fruit. Maybe you always get that for a moment. Then things are different. The fruit isn't as sweet. But fermented fruit makes some of our favorite drinks, no? We'll see...


Note: If you are interested, the sunglasses are H&M and the wine is a rosé mixed with some crushed raspberries. Not bad, but I wish I could taste more of the raspberries. Maybe I need blackberries.

Crabby Patties

Sometimes when you try out a recipe in France, the best part of the whole experience is the shopping. I can't say that was the case for the crab cakes I made about a month ago. In the States, I usually use canned crab meat, as it's easier to get a lot of bang for your buck, and you don't end up going crazy trying to get a lot of crab meat out of several exoskeletons.

So of course, when I had the desire to make crab cakes here, I immediately think about where I could find some canned crab meat. I don't often see crabs at my poisonnèrie, and I hadn't really looked at my grocery, so it was going to be a toss up.

I thought I had found what I was looking for at Franprix. I was pretty excited, because I was unsure of its existence at the local supermarché and because it meant I could continue on with my dinner plans.

Of course, when I get home and get to work, I get totally freaked out after opening the canned crab meat. I can't find a picture, and of course I didn't take one...so my best description would be already grated wet mozzarella cheese. bleh.

That's not what I'm used to. I either bought the wrong can or that's just how it goes here. But I wasn't happy. I went on with the recipe, already sad that I wouldn't have nice crab chunks in the cakes, desperately hoping I would even taste crab after they were cooked.

Anyways, I won't go into how I cooked them, because they weren't mind-blowingly awesome...But, my plating was! Behold,


Yeah, like I said, it wasn't the best cakes I've made, but I was still in a good mood afterwards. Happy plate was accomplished.

Dreaming

I haven't been as active on the blog circuit as in the past. Honestly, I was burnt out, and didn't really have much to say. I might still not have much to say, but I think I already like this title better.

I had this dream last night, that I don't remember at all besides the fact that I had a blog, or was starting a blog named "Garnish." And every time I said garnish, it just seemed to roll off the tongue in a pleasant, sophisticated way. Who knows if that's actually true? I get skeptical when I say it aloud now.

What will I do on this blog? I hope many things. I'm enjoying cooking more and more. Clothes have taken a bit of a backseat though I still enjoy them. I don't know. I feel like the word garnish can mean many things outside of the parsley on one's plate, and I hope to explore them.

Note: My Macbook is getting boozy at the Genius Bar for about a week, so I'm going to have little to no desire to do any serious posting on this groaning PC I'm working on now. But at the very least, it works! I might even post some pictures if I fancy.