Confessions of a Rosewater Eater

Rosewater is not a staple spice in traditional (or even in the contemporary, more cross-culinary) Finnish cooking; therefore it took me a long while to realise it had such a wide range of uses. In this country, liquids that smell of rose are usually reserved for cosmetic purposes, which is a shame. 

As I happen to have a bottle of rosewater in my fridge, I've been looking for new foods to put it in. Yesterday I came across a mention of medieval rosewater wafers, which were enjoyed at most festive occasions. Because of the wonders of the internet, I was able to find a recipe (here) and with some alterations, came up with the beauties pictured above. The main difference was that I didn't use a wafer iron, but a frying pan  - just like when making contemporary pancakes. 

My love affair with rose water officially began about a year ago, when Otter and I got the wonderful idea of trying out milk jelly according to an authentic Tudor recipe (as documented here).  Although the gentle aroma of the slippery cubes didn't appeal to everyone, at least they were unlike anything we'd ever  tasted before. Thus they were served as "second dessert" at our Renaissance party, along with lovely fruit and some anachronistic coffee, and if not universally adored, at least got sampled by all of our  brave guests.

(The photo above courtesy of this guy who unfortunately isn't a fan of the white wobbly stuff.)

The preparations for next summer's period frock party have already begun, and one manifestation thereof can be seen above. Those are  Rout Drop Cakes, the recipe for which I found in The Jane Austen Cookbook (by Maggie Black and Deirdre le Faye). Otter and I tried them out over the Easter holidays - and they were delicious, simply melting in the mouth. There's plenty of rosewater in them, but also some brandy, orange juice, currants and lots of sugar. 

It says in the book that these little cakes "are pleasant with a glass of wine or a cup of coffee." Having tried them with both, I can assure that they are indeed.

British Comedy Season, Pt. 3: Smack the Pony

It's been some time since I've tackled comedy on this blog, but last night I watched some Smack the Pony, and was inspired.

There are still very few all (or most-) women comedy shows around, especially on primetime TV. The reason it took me a while to get acquainted with Smack the Pony was its woefully late airing time. Which it a shame, for STP was the wittiest, most absurd, and definitely the most feminist comedy on Finnish telly at the time.

What I love about the show is its ingenious way of taking everyday situations and turning them into something that could almost happen: having a pregnancy test turn orange instead of blue; taking revenge on your annoying flatmate by mixing washing-up liquid into her yogurt - or, meeting a lexically challenged postgirl:

I think everyone who's ever had to write English can sympathise with her despair over silent Gs, and the irrationality of spelling F with PH.

Another great thing about Smack the Pony are the recurring features, like these deliciously random dating agency videos:

I mean, EGG! who would have a BIG EGG! problem dating her?

All great comedies also have music in them, and STP doesn't let you down in this sense, either. At the end of each episode there is usually a music video parodying some current musical trend, ranging from peppy girl groups to trance. My current favourite, however, is this:

I nearly fall off my chair laughing every time Doon Mackihan comes in with that wonderfully earnest rap voice of hers. Woof-de-woof, indeed.

Amused, I'm sure

Recently I've spent a considerable amount of time combing through the intertubes in search of Regency (or Austenian, or empire - whichever you prefer) inspiration. Mainly the pictures and articles I've come across have been quite ordinary - dealing with spencers and pelisses and different hairstyles and chicken Napoleon - but there have been some eye-openers as well. 

Now, most of us associate the era of Jane Austen with genteel manners, dainty ladies and dashing gentlemen. Lots of these about, naturally, as well - but the Regency era, as well as the one preceeding it, could be a pretty boisterous place to be. Unlike the furtive Victorians, these people could and did flaunt their stuff in the broad daylight - and also laugh about it. I've previously mentioned my love of James Gillray's satirical pictures: now I've discovered that he wasn't the only one making delicious caricatures at the turn of the 19th century. I should have known better, really. 

Most of the pictures here come from this meticulously assembled website. Click if you want to see a larger version.

First, a look at the wonderful fashions of the day: 

This one's called "Les Invisibles en Tête-à-Tête". It just struck me that a fashion like that could be really useful today - you could use your mobile inside one of those hats, while on a bus for instance, without disturbing anyone. I bet a really enterprising lady could assemble a whole office into a hat like that.

The next one illustrates the fact that heterosexuality wasn't the only option for well-bred ladies even in the old days: 

 

Notice the two men lurking together in the bushes as well. And, finally, proof that even then, ladies were dying to find the answer to the ages-old question: 

 

 

I bet he wasn't.

Nil significat, nisi oscillat

I'm heading South for the weekend, to partake of some jazz and good company.  Now that the sun is out, there's an air of spring about it, too.

I've been asked to sing a few numbers at the party; I don't usually do jazz, so it's been a bit of a challenge to find suitable songs, but it's been a lot of fun practicing as well. I'll never be able to do a piano solo like Nina Simone - but then again, no one can.

Art, For Art's Sake!

 

 

This year's hibernation is finally coming to an end, at least when it comes to sampling bits and pieces of art and culture. Yesterday was really hyper-active in that department, and it looks like next week will be quite busy as well. Which suits me just fine. 

Yesterday Juzka and I set out to find how much popular culture one can find and consume within an evening; as it turns out, quite a lot. First, we went to the cinema to check out the latest Disney flick. I've never been an ardent fan of that particular genre, but as far as predictable and visually pleasing fairy-tales go, The Princess and the Frog was fairly enjoyable.  I especially liked the music (composed by none other than Randy Newman).  I'm actually listening to the soundtrack right now (bless you, Spotify!) - and I can say that the original versions are even more jazzy than the Finnish ones (although they weren't un-groovy either). 

After the film, we had some lovely soup and pasta and wine at Soppabaari (one of my favourite restaurants), and then headed for the theatre to see The Crucible.

I can't pretend that I was aware of the work before (although as a former English major I probably should have been) - and the only thing I knew about the play before seeing it was that it dealt with the Salem witchcraft trials. So at least you can say that I wasn't exactly expecting a comedy. And comedic it certainly wasn't; instead, there were shrieking women, selfish judges, witchcraft (real and imagined), deception, false accusations and death aplenty. Lovely.

Basically I liked the play; most of the characters were well cast, and the actors embraced the chaotic atmoshphere of 17th century Salem convincingly. The only major thing that hindered my enjoyment were the ridiculous and illogical costumes. Some characters were dressed in more or less accurate period clothes, others looked like they'd been imported from Victorian England - and the rest had apparently thrown on any black-and-white garments they'd happened upon (black and white being the thematic colours). 

The greatest sartorial faux-pas, however, was the ridiculous waist-length black wig worn by the Deputy Governor, with strange curly bits on top, which made him look like a cross between a Goth and a badly permed granny. But perhaps that was the whole idea.

Finally Juzka and I ended up in a pub, listening to a mediocre U2 cover band. We did manage to make some serious plans for empire dresses, though, which was good. 

Oh, and here's a thing I just have to share with you. This song never fails to tickle my anachronistic fancy:

Gone Ahead

My brain's bedazzled by the sudden arrival of the sun - so I can't really think of anything witty to say. Let the pictures speak for themselves.

Tori Amos can also speak for herself, too - and how:

Here's hoping that that rest of the winter will be as gorgeous as this - and that summer will be here soon, because I've already got some groovy things planned for both June and July.

Business as Usual

It's been quiet here at Sisotowbell Lane lately - mainly because it's been loud and busy elsewhere in my life. After a couple of weeks or so of noise, dust and  other kinds of bother, I finally got my new kitchen (which is very nice indeed). I didn't get much time to enjoy all those new cupboards and contraptions, however, because I (the dutiful daughter that I am) was called to S-city to nurse my mum who'd just undergone a hip replacement operation.

Despite all this outward excitement, after Xmas I felt that something important was missing from my life. One could even speak of a sense of stagnation. Fortunately, I soon discovered the source of this emptiness - and the perfect cure for this. I realised that I was suffering from period costume deficiency, which is almost as serious as not getting enough vitamin D during the darkest months of the year. 

Drastic measures had to be taken. I immediately immersed myself in the mental preparations of next summer's Jane Austen/Napoleon party . As first aid, I headed for YouTube, and landed on an unknown (at least to me) treasure. Emma has always been one of my favourite Austen novels, but so far I hadn't found a TV or film adaptation which matched my reading of it. All the versions I had seen portray Emma Woodhouse as a  comic, annoyingly twinkly kind of character - totally disregarding the fact that the  message of the novel is actually a serious one, one that shows the danger of living in a fantasy world, and not being able to see the real world (and its people) as it is.

The version which finally captures this theme is the 1996 TV adaptation with Kate Beckinsale and Mark Strong as Emma and Mr Knightley respectively. I don't know why  I haven't been on the lookout for this version, because it has been written by Andrew Davies (he of Pride&Prejudice fame). I like the chemistry between the leading couple, although I think Knightley might have been toned down a bit - all that shouting and raving is somewhat disconcerting. (Mark Strong's performance is otherwise excellent. And he's very nice man to look at, indeed. :)) What raises this version above others, however, are the impeccable performances of the "minor" characters, especially Bernard Hepton's hopelessly hypochondriac Mr Woodhouse and Samantha Morton's gullible  but loyal Harriet Smith.

After getting my thoughts thus on the right track, I was in the correct mood to begin thinking about really important things, namely what to wear. In this I have been greatly assisted by Otter and Juska, with whom I spent a delightful afternoon of drooling over muslins and spencers (mainly here) and making actual plans for dresses Juska is going to make for us. Needless to say, they're going to be fabulous. :)

Now I'm feeling much more like myself again; my life has a clear direction once more, and I can already start looking forward to next summer. Which, amid all this snow, is rather optimistic, I know.

(The picture above, in case you're wondering, is by James Gillray, one of the keenest observers of society during the Georgian period. From time to time he also observed fashion.)