My Melting Heart

We’ve just gone through a ‘Thirty Year Snowstorm’ here on ‘Britain’s South Sea Island’. While many have revelled in the stuff, I have to say I really dislike it, if for no other reason than the effect it has on my garden (so used to the normally milder conditions).

Yesterday I was so happy to see the sun shining again and the snow rapidly dissipating…and then I noticed this little melting heart on our decking, almost as if the weather was apologising for being such a brute for two days.

(BTW, just to keep you up to speed – the uber-sicko I mentioned last time? …Removed from Flickr the day after I reported him).

Melt

Snow melting down to icy mush on my window pane … snow is an unusual occurrence around here, rarely lasts long and inevitably makes everything in the island grind to a resounding halt.

Snowflakes are Dancing (for some)

Forget the calendar definition of the seasons, winter is definitely trying to muscle in on us this week with our first winter storm rolling in off the Atlantic.  It happened to coincide with high tide, which is bad news around here because that generally means sea walls being breached and flooding, and that’s just what happened on Monday.

I used live right by the sea and remember, on the stormiest of nights, hearing the roar of the ocean and feeling the rumble of huge waves as they angrily pounded against the land, sending shock waves through the foundations of our house.   It was scary but also strangely exciting.  To this day these high tides and storms cause a frisson of excitement in me.  I think it must have something to do with the power of Mother Nature when she chooses to remind us of how small and insignificant we really are.  It’s humbling, and I think that’s no bad thing.

If you live on a continent of course, you are more likely to be experiencing your first snowflakes of the season.  Although I’m not a fan of snow - precipitation is precipitation after all and whether frozen or not, it all amounts to cold and wet – it does seem a gentler way to slip into the season.  

All of which segues into this…you knew there had to be a reason for my wiffle about the weather didn’t you?!   I was just listening to Isao Tomita’s beautiful interpretation of Claude Debussy’s ‘Snow is Dancing’, or as it is called here ‘Snowflakes are Dancing’,  and thought I’d share it, as one way or another many of us up here in the northern hemisphere are beginning to hunker down for the duration.

Have a good weekend.

Cold and the Classic Rabbit

We’re pretty much ’snowed in’ here.  As the most southerly point in Britain, this actually means that there is a light dusting of snow.  For those of you with two foot of snow lumped against your front door, you may want to look away now.

This was my terrace, early yesterday evening.  Yes, I know.  You’re positively underwhelmed.

There has been a fair amount of discussion over the last 48 hours about why it is that the merest hint of a snowflake sends Britain flurrying into a grinding panic because, for the most part, we don’t even know what real snow is – for that try heading north to Helsinki, a place where reindeer roam free and, I’m told, the airport stays open all winter long. 

However it’s unfair to label us in Britain, as has been done by some of our own media, as a bunch of malingerers.  Sure there is some skiving going on, but there is a reason why at least some of us fail to show up at work. 

Take here for example.  Those who live on the island’s ‘balmy’ and mostly flat south coast are starting to look askance at those of us who live in the ‘inhospitable north’, up a hill, when we complain that we were unable to make it into work first thing.  The problem with any snow covering here in the UK generally is not the snow as such, but the ice that forms when it compacts.  None of us have snow chains or snow tyres.  Why would we when snow is such a rarity and so such things would only languish, year on year, gathering dust at the back of the garage?  Our problem at the moment is dangerous black ice and that is very much more of an issue for anyone who has to negotiate an incline on little used country roads.  Yesterday I watched a dangerous pattern emerging: snow fall, a slight melt, re-freeze, fresh snowfall then rinse and repeat.  So no, my photo doesn’t look impressive but it is creating ridiculous disruption and concern.

~

I usually keep things like recipes for my other WordPress site but since we all seem to be freezing our buns off at the moment I thought I’d refer to one of my favourite cold weather comfort foods – something that I happily snaffled for my lunch today and poo to the diet guilt in this cold snap.  I love cheese but God has decreed that hot cheese shall be totally irrestible, both in smell and taste, to all but the steeliest-willed skinniest of skinnies. 

I have quick combos that I love on a cold day: toast one side of the bread under the grill then spread the other with tomato puree (paste), good grated strong Cheddar (the real thing, not that plastic muck that tries to pass itself off as Cheddar) and sprinkle on some dried oregano.   Pop back under the grill and cook until the cheese is melting and just starting to brown.  Voila!  Pizza Bread!     I’ve successfully substituted a scraping of Sacla red pesto and then cheese when I don’t have tomato puree (making a kind of Basil-ly pizza bread.  Mmmmmm…).  And for true connoisseurs of the Toast and Cheese Tasters Guild nothing can compare to a scraping of Marmite and then the grated cheese (although if you haven’t tried Marmite before you may want to take it easy with that one – Marmite truly is a product that you either love or hate.  It has been known to make grown men cry).  

Purists, however, will undoubtedly prefer to go through the extra kerfuffle of making proper Welsh Rarebit (also called Welsh Rabbit, although of course no rabbits are actually harmed in the making of it).  Lovely, but I’m normally too much of a gannet to muck around and do things ‘properly’.  Here, however is the authentic recipe for this English (well…Welsh) classic:

Welsh rarebit (Serves 4)

(By the way, the phrase Welsh rabbit was coined in the 18th century to describe this cheese on toast. Some believe it was invented when the Welsh wives spied their menfolk returning empty-handed from the hunt and had to melt cheese as a substitute for game).

This Welsh rarebit with egg is from the Edwardian chef C Herman Senn:

• 9 oz/255g freshly grated Llangloffan, Caerphilly, Cheshire or Cheddar cheese
• 1 oz/30g unsalted butter
• 2 tbsp fresh breadcrumbs
• 1 tsp Colman’s English mustard powder, mixed with 1 tsp water
• 1 egg, beaten
• Salt and pepper
• Tabasco and Worcestershire sauce (optional) – a few drops of each may be added to the mixture
• 4 slices of good bread, white or brown, lightly toasted and buttered

Heat the oven to 220C/425F/gas mark 7. Mix the finely grated cheese with the butter, breadcrumbs, mustard and egg. Beat well, season with salt and pepper to taste and spread thickly on buttered toast. Cook in the oven until golden brown (5-10 minutes).

That’s it.  Enjoy…  And stay warm!

Just thought I’d point that out

When I was a teenager in the 1970s, scientists warned that the world would start cooling down in the coming years as the earth headed on its (cyclical) way to another ice age.  Now of course we’re hearing all about global warming and we in Britain have been told to expect warmer, wetter winters.  

Today Britain is grinding to a halt, paralysed by snow and ice and meteorologists say we could be facing the worst winter in 100 years.  

Just thought I’d point that out…that’s all….

Photos from The Daily Telegraph newspaper – more photos here.

Get a grip

There has been wall to wall coverage again this morning on the snow that blankets much of Britain.  Road, rail and air travel is affected, schools are shut, people are staying home, and gritting stations, having run out of grit, are awaiting emergency shipments (which, quite clearly, will arrive after the snow has melted). 

I came across this photo yesterday.  Can I just say….This is snow.  This is worthy of the mass disruption of travel. 

Photo from the Reuters site, taken in the Swiss Alps, 3 Feb 09.