Category Archives: SPET O HRANI

Altmühtal … and living is easy

I don’t need much time to state the obvious this time either: “I really love the Altmühl Valley. It feels so great to be here again. Let’s return in two years or so.”

He agrees. It is not only that we are proud of our daily proven paddling prowess :-), it is also that the Nature in the Altmühl Valley is wonderful and there are many great sights to see and things to do as we splish-splash downriver with our paddles, everything we need safely contained in our boat. Yes, even an alarm clock and a diary (You know, a small notebook with a pencil to write things in. A log, so to say.)

I am sure “Hiking in Kipfenberg Woods” does not make your heart beat faster, why should it, but I assure you this is one of the most beautiful places to sort of get lost in and just walk on, for hours. The soft, lush May everywhere, the strawberries, the birds … Wonderful.

“But your hollandaise is much better, even though this one is probably state of the art,” I mumble, my mouth full of asparagus. The next day, I will try to find out at this same restaurant, Der blaue Hecht, whether Bavarians can do vegan food. Yes, they can: my falafel was delicious AND they managed that without a hint of garlic 🙂

So when not sitting peacefully somewhere in Franken/Bavaria, walking around in the forests or paddling downriver like there was no tomorrow and waving to excited onlookers on the shores, we devoted our time to Roman relicts in the area, of which there are many to see. I especially loved the Roman thermae in Weißenburg and could imagine all the comforts to be had there. Not to forget the cleanliness!

Anyway, I know you are here for the photos, so here we go:

Advertisements

Islandija in to.

Sredi vročega poletja se med sprehodom ob počasnem potoku spomnim reči: “Pa če petnajstko praznujeva v Islandiji?”

Edini razlog za to, da vsa drugačna, vsa neenakopravna na nespametno lakoničen način vztrajam na severni strani Črnega gozda, potrebuje samo nekaj sekund za strinjanje: “Ja, zakaj pa ne?”

Pa sva šla.

“Tukaj ni najbolj primerno mesto za delat samomor,” se pomirjujoče prodorno strinjata potnici na nabasanem vlaku, obstalem par metrov od najine vasi, “zid ob tirih je previsok, da bi ga lahko kdo preplezal.” Izkaže se, da je temu res tako, in vlak naju odpelje do mesta.

“Še dobro, da so ga našli,” me potolaži moj dragi, “predstavljaj si, če ga ne bi: tako vsaj veš, da svoje delo dobro opravljajo.” Vidno se strinjam, delno zato, ker se mi zdi, da me varnostnice na letališču še vedno malce opazujejo, medtem ko mi počasi izginja rdečica z lic. Ma če se ne bo kmalu nehal smehljati na meni tako znan način, ki naznanjuje, da ga že zdaj razmetava od bodočega smeha, jim bom kar povedala, da mi je zadevo oblike kreditne kartice, ki jo lahko zložiš v čisto ta pravi, oster nož, podaril kar moj dragi. Za vsak slučaj. Vsekakor sem ga čisto slučajno pozabila v denarnici.

“Islandija je šit!” po angleško v mikrofon simpatične mladenke prijavi čisto ta pravi, bradati islandski hipster v pristanišču v Reykjaviku. “Vso to čakanje na naslednji izbruh vulkana, gledanje kitov, dež-” Neham ga poslušati. Ne verjamem, da ima najbolj pametno predstavo o ceni bolj urbanega lajfa drugod. Islandija je v resnici prekrasna, vsaj če imaš tako veliko srečo kot midva in tam pristaneš v za september neobičajno sončnem obdobju. Islandci so tudi zelo izurjeni, prijetni ponudniki in izvajalci turističnih storitev in so naju pripravili do tega, da sva na koncu potovanja razmerje med ceno in kakovostjo opisala kot izvrstno. Prav res.

“Naše stranke igrajo zelo pomembno vlogo!” Zaradi vetra med vožnjo in ne preveč dobre kakovosti ozvočenja mi zvok njegovega govora gre na živce, ma to, kar pripoveduje privlačen španski mladec na ladji, s katero gremo iskat kite in delfine, je zanimivo. “Dokler obstaja dovolj zanimanja za gledanje kitov, je še mogoče vplivati na njihove lovce, ki jih prodajajo kot meso. Podpišite peticijo proti lovu na kite in ne hodite v restavracije, ki prodajajo kitovo meso, tako jih boste tudi vi pomagali ohraniti pri življenju. Islandci v veliki večini ne jemo kitovega mesa, samo en odstotek ga je in nikoli ni bilo priljubljeno. Se pa na veliko prodaja in ker je zakonodaja bolj ohlapna, je naš trud toliko bolj pomemben.”

Nič ne štekam. Reykjavik je eno od tistih čisto ta pravih nebes za hranoljubce. Tukaj že vegani pogosto dobijo hrano brez česna, da o drugih specialitetah niti ne molčim. Zakaj bi si kdo želel jesti kite? Ne verjamem, da so bolj poceni kot vrtoglavi zneski za prvovrstne gurmanske užitke na vsakem koraku, in tudi hrane za hvaljenje doma je več kot na pretek.

Na večer petnajste obletnice poroke sva tako romantična, da zamudiva polarni sij, ki osrečuje druge obiskovalce Reykjavika. Še zdaj mi je vseeno. Naslednjo noč se podava proti svetilniku, saj je napoved glede polarnega sija izvrstna, vendar se nama ta tokrat, skupaj z vsemi drugimi ponočnimi obiskovalci neosvetljenega rta ob robu mesta, izneveri. Noč je jasna, mrzla in divje romantična in briga me, ali se bo na nebu pojavila značilna zelenkasta svetloba ali ne. Samo, da sva.

Naj torej za trenutek odložim nakladanje in povzamem:

Čas: od ponedeljka do petka. Let iz FRA ob 13.30 (uradno ob 12.35, vendar po prejšnjem letu nekdo ni prevzel prtljage …) in iz RE ob 6.00 (vstajanje ob 2 h …). WOW air – krasen občutek. Lila letalo.

Kraj: Reykjavik, njegov zaliv in Zlati krog.

Prebivališče: hotel Oddson. Je tudi hostel, menda bivša industrijska zgradba. Zgleda krasno, ima vse, kar sva potrebovala, celo mašinco za kavo. Na strehi pod oknom se šopirijo škorci. Na vhodu je nekdo pripopal reklamo za Štajerce.

Živali: en kit (ščukasti kit – Balaenoptera acutorostrata), en delfin (?), kar nekaj ptic (strmoglavec, lumna, ledni viharnik, atlantski viharnik, gaga, mormoni samo kot plišaste živalce za knjižno polico).

Rastline: nekaj grmičevja, ki mu Islandci rečejo gozd. Mah in podobne čudovite zadeve. Slasten paradižnik iz rastlinjaka.

Hrana: krasna.

Pijača: … pivo od dragega zdaj še bolj prija. Krasen brezov liker po imenu Björk. Res!

Jezik: angleščina 🙂 Aja, pa “hvalagummi” pomeni gumijasti kiti (neke vrste gumijasti medvedki za Islandce. Torej ne to, kar bi si človek predstavljal pod imenom hvalagumi 😀 )

Muska: Honeymoon od Lane.

Fotke: na Instagramu in takoj zdej.

                                    


Heute: Darjeeling mit Fettaugen.

20160315_151633-1


Yeah … Maybe I did.

Buy a frying pan, larger than life:

P1290288_k

What, don’t you have a saying “eyes bigger than the stomach” in your neck of the woods?


Scottish Oatcakes. But Of Course.

First disclosure of the year: I like food.

Second disclosure of the year: I adore oats.

I am sure these two are enough to be rewarded a honorary Scottish citizenship (I won’t mention The Outlander, I promise), but to further improve my chances of owning, say, a flock of sheep in the most beautiful Highlands there are, I decided to try making Scottish Oatcakes following a recipe of someone who knows how to make them resemble the original oatcakes.

Jep, that would be Walkers Highland Oatcakes.

So, are they difficult to make? No:

2 cups coarsely ground oats (mine were wholemeal and I used a food processor)

1/2 whole wheat flour (ähm, I used whole spelt flour)

1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

2 eggs (it says one in the recipe, but mine were small)

2 tbsp unsalted butter, melted (mine was Irish)

2 tbsp liquid honey (mine was Turkish)

In a large bowl, whisk together flour, oats, salt and baking powder, add egg(s), butter and honey, blend well, roll out (0,5 cm), cut into shapes (mine were square), bake for 20 minutes at 160 °C.

Serve with things to spread on or simply eat away.

This is not my first ground oats recipe and I am sure it can be veganized – Walkers oatcakes contain vegetable oil and not butter, no honey, and I am sure the egg is optional. It will still all stick together anyway.

Luckily, I managed to make some pictures:

P1290162

P1290165

P1290175


Nut Loaf. Wow.

To tell you the truth, I find the word meat loaf to be one of the most despicable ones existing.

To me, it denotes a meticulous concoction to scare away people in law.
Something sticky, chewy, full of bad taste and of ugly colour, on purpose and without purpose.
Something you are forced to eat, which will then turn up as a nasty background feeling in the night, while you’re trying hard to have your David Beckham dream without Vic popping up at bad moments, and failing miserably…

And the singer? Hate his guts, too.

So when I read there is such thing as nut roast yesterday I first checked it up and was annoyed by the fact it is also called “roasted nut loaf”. Eurgh.

Which is when I found Green Gourmet Giraffe’s blog. And decided nut roast must be something I should have found, thought of and most of all done before. Damn!

So I made it today. As far as color is concerned, I didn’t have more luck than my carnivore friends:

P1190111

Continue reading


Animal Farm 2014

Don’t tell me: You’ve just discovered our friends the cavemen lived unusually long, happy lives because all they ever ate was plants growing along the paths taken when hunting animals to be also devoured. Day in, day out. And: ground almonds? And … coconut, was it? Cooked paleolithic food? Of course. They sure had time to spend on food, the Iron Men and Women.

And because of them you are healthier and happier than ever before.

Well, it turns out so are the pigs nowadays bred for your pleasure, to give you their paleolithically appropriate meat even in the 21st century. Have a look for yourself, it is SFW.

The welfare of animals plays an important role in the modern European legislation:

a) For example, it is considered mandatory that pigs have enough living space.

b) Sows are supposed to take care of their litter in special, comfy areas.

c) And if, by sheer coincidence, anything should happen to one of those poor intelligent sweeties, they get a decent, EU conform burial, of course.

So next time a goddamn bloodless vegetarian mentions the poor animals, make sure to have your pics ready to show them the facts of the modern animal farming. You do care about the well-being of the animals you eat in larger quantities, right? And you would try to make your voice heard if you found out some of them, somewhere in less modern and less controlled places are being treated like … shit or similar? You know: wield you purchase power to do away with the bad guys and stuff. Surely you would – vegetarians have no such persuasive powers, it is known.


Kukurčna zlejvanka. No: koruzna torta. Za kosilo. Brez glutena.

Malce čuden občutek je že, če pripravljaš hrano, ob kateri si odraščal, pa ti je nekoč nekje padla z radarja in to je bilo to.

Kukurčna zlejvanka ni samo ena, koruznih zlevank je več: nesladka, sladka in sladka z jabolki. Recepte lahko ponajdisijite, jaz bi vam samo predstavila svoje današnje kosilo, pri katerem sem iz (skoraj) testa za kukurčno zlejvanko naredila koruzno torto brez cukra in z malce soli, da je bila nevtralnega, koruznega okusa.

Potem pa sem na mizo nabasala vse, kar bi lahko pasalo zraven. Slane (sir, skuto, bučno olje, tahin, ohrovtov pesto, dušene šampinjone …) in sladke (marmelado, kikirikijevo maslo, med …) priloge.

Včasih demokracija pomeni, da človek je skoraj to, kar mu paše, ali pa vsaj po želenem vrstnem redu (slano – sladko ali sladko – slano). Aja, pa če koga moti moj neznosno liberalen, odrasel odnos do hrane, naj mi javi naslov, kamor naj se prislikam za šeškanje :twisted:.

Za 2 osebi sem vzela: Continue reading


Proseni mafini s slivami / Millet Muffins With Plums

A zakaj mafini? Ker jih bom zamrznila, saj jih moram kos za kosom pojesti kar sama – pač živim z neprosojedcem.

Why muffins? Because I need to freeze them and eat them piece by piece – I live with a millet disliker.

proseni materialOpoldne: 1 skodelico prosa skuhala v 2 skodelicah vode. 10 minut. Pocukrala in posivkala na oko in pustila, da se ohladi.
Popoldne: primešala mlete mandlje po občutku, 2 jajci z občutkom in lonček kisle smetane. Bio. Sesekljala slive, jim dodala malce agavinega sirupa. Tudi, če ne bi.

Noon: 1 cup millet boiled in 2 cups water. 10 minutes. Sugar and lavender added by  eye, left to cool down.
Afternoon: ground almonds added by eye, 2 eggs added by hand, a pot of sour cream, too. Organic. Plums chopped, agave syrup added, even though not necessary.

proseni surovV papirčkih za mafine masa res zgleda malce čudno, na žalost sem dala samo po 2.
Papirčka.
45 minut na predogretih170°.

It does look funny in those muffin paper cups, unfortunately I used only 2 per piece.
Paper muffin cups.
45 minutes at already existing 170 °C.

proseni pecenMeni so lepi.

I like them.

proseni pecen2In dobri. Vseh 12 samo zame!

They’re quite yummy. And I get to eat all 12 of them!

Jana? Evo ti recept 🙂 po M-jino. Skoraj.


Ne tega delat. Bljek.

Nasmeh mu izgine z obraza, previdno me pogleda in potem vseeno vpraša “Kaj pa je to?”

“Oh, paradižnikova omaka z rdečo peso in rdečim zeljem,” sem srečna. “Mogoče najprej poskusiš in če ti ni všeč, vzameš kaj drugega?”

Zdaj tudi jaz previdno gledam. Njegov obraz, lonec, njegov obraz, lonec …

“Ne, ne.” je vljuden in odločen, pravi moški pač: “Bo že.” 

Torej mu na krompir nabašem svojo na novo izumljeno omako, temno rdečo, s koščki rdečega zelja barve žameta, za vsak slučaj pa sebi odmerim večji delež.

Omaka je grozna. Tako grozna je, da je niti moja najljubša zelenjava, namreč kuhan krompir, ne more rešiti. Solim, dodajam sir, razmišljam, a bi pojedla do konca ali raje ne bi. Nič ga ne vprašam, kako kaj in te stvari.

Kmalu sta krožnika prazna. “Boš preživel?”

“Bom. Pod enim pogojem.”

“Da tega ne skuham nikoli več.”

Oddahne si: “Tako je.”

Postane me strah. Z zelenjavo sem bila namreč eksperimentirala že prejšnji dan, in sicer sem delala zelenjavni čips. Iz rdeče pese, kodrastega ohrovta, kolerabe in zelene. Ker pa sem vso to kulinariko zganjala med delovnim časom, se mi je vmes malce mudilo, zato pač nisem vsakega lističa zelenjave posebej položila na papir v pekaču, temveč so se rahlo prekrivali. Rezultat? Kup mokrih slanih krp za pomivanje z okusom zelenjave. Kolerabo sem vrgla v smeti, ker sem se še skoraj pravi čas spomnila, da sem dragemu svečano obljubila, da kolerabe NIKOLI VEČ ne bom kupila, kaj šele kuhala. Ostale vlažne krpice sem dala v hladilnik, do dneva, ko bom vedela, kaj z njimi.

Torej danes. Medtem ko sem kuhala bodočo obupno paradižnikovo omako (dragi moji, paradižnikovo omako totalno pokvarite tako, da ji dodate rezine rdečega zelja, kocke rdeče pese in zelene iz zamrzovalnika, da jo pozabite dovolj začiniti ali vsaj dodati smetano, pa še prehitro postrežete z njo, ker niste vedeli, da se rdeča pesa mora dlje kuhati), sem zelenjavne čipsove krpice od včeraj zmešala z lončkom ricotte, 2 jajcema, sezamom, mletimi mandlji in malce polnozrnate moke. Kar bo, pa bo. Zmes je bila roza barve, saj je rdeča pesa zelo prepričljivega značaja. Briga me: roza maso sem zakamuflirala s sončničnimi semeni in jo 30 minut pekla na 175 stopinjah.

“Res ne bom nikoli več,” mu obljubim, “hočeš malce zelenjavne pite?”

“A to so tiste krpice od včeraj? Raje ne.”

Tudi mene je strah. Kaj neki sem spet ustvarila?

Ugriznem in glej ga zlomka: zadeva je slučajno odlična. Oddahnem si.

P1180416