An Ode To...: 2014

NO SCANDINAVIAN STYLE PLEASE, WE'RE DECORATING “THINGS” or HOW TO KILL A CAT BURGLAR

30 December 2014

I am sure I am not breaking you the news how much in vogue is to have that all clean, all orderly, all pure white and natural feel and look of the Scandinavian interior design.

I have been with very mixed feelings about that trend. Sure, this crisp clean look of pure whiteness, light natural wood and few goats’ furs tossed on chairs, benches, couches or just on the nicely polished timber floors prompts me to think of something dreamy and relaxing.

But here my dreaming stops. It gets too clean, too orderly, too white to the point that, if I take a look at one more magazine or blog dedicated on the Scandinavian or Nordic style, my eyes will burn out from the bleaching overexposed photos.

How much white can I take before thinking I am in some well sanitised and hygienised hospital ward?! It just feels too sterilised and almost neutered.

Who lives like that!?

Do these people have children? And if they do, what’s wrong with their kids?

I have two (kids I am talking about) and they are very creative, resourceful and with imagination streaming out of their ears… I can’t hold a house in a Nordic or Scandinavian magazine style manner for longer than 5 minutes. As my daughter Apollonia says “it looks too empty and people will think we don’t have "things"”.

Hmm, “things”!!! I was calling it mess, rubbish and lots of old broken toys...

The other day I was trying to get the house in orderly way, while my little angels were going behind me and throwing everything in a big messy pile. When I eventually erupted in anger, both of them were heartbroken I call their handy work a mess. The older daughter stepped in to clarify, “We don’t make a mess; we are decorating”…

Sure! How didn’t I think about it! Of course they are only decorating! I am waiting for the day my daughter learns words like "eclectic"...

Yes, by the look of it, I wouldn’t blind you with clean and crisp white rooms, white walls and minimalistic interior. Come and join me in exploring my house where every day I get surprised to find a long lost kitchen utensil in the children’s toy box or old and mummified Turkish delight behind the TV set.

Our home is really very “decorated” and full of "things"!

We don’t even need to install a thief alarm system since we have so many traps scattered on the floor, that any cat burglar can break his head before he even break in. On that note, we have updated our home insurance that now covers for all physical and life-threatening damages we might cause to any possible home intruder.

To a Happy and Safe New Year!

Hope it is full of “things” and very “decorated”!

Sophia

CHERRY LIQUEUR LAB, HOW I GOT THE CHOOKS DRUNK or CHILDREN'S COLLECTIVE CONSCIOUSNESS

24 November 2014

When I get together with girlfriends, all we do is have some homemade drinks, tell naughty stories and dirty jokes and giggle a lot. You might have noticed, every month I get together on blogging space with Ilva and Simi and share some stories and swap a recipe. Today we’ll spin some yarn about our favourite and secrete family recipes of preserves.
And here is where my memories took me.

I was 15 years old when for a first time I got in my hands the most hilarious book I’ve read – Emil From Lonneberga by Astrid Lindgren. Page after page I really thought I am having a déjà vu. It felt as if every single tale of the mischievous boy was the story of my life. Well, I didn’t put my head in the soup bowl, but believe me, they were plenty of other stories where I can fight for the trophy with Emil for the most naughty and cheeky kid ever walking on this earth. One would think that all children get born with genetically installed instructions how to drive their parents mad.

So here we are, back in time, one of those summer days when we, the kids played on the street (the streets back then were safe to play) and Mamma was doing her usual weekend chores around the house and the kitchen. Summer time my sister and I didn’t really want to stay home helping, all we wanted was to be out and play. Mamma was straining the fruit from the latest produce of homemade cherry liqueur. Sometimes she would keep the cherries soaked and potent of good quality brandy where they've been soaking for good 3 or more months. Sometimes we had too much from years before, so there was no need to keep the new ones. That was what Mamma decided – throw the strained fruit. She called me from the balcony and gave me a pot full of glossy, soggy and fragrant cherries, which smell of alcohol was just punching me straight in my nose.

“Take these cherries to the dunny and throw them in the hole”, she said.

Oh dear, do I have to, I was thinking – it is a long walk at the back of the house where the outhouse was. By the time I go and do it, I will miss my turn at the wall ball game with my friends…

So I start walking down the stairs, checking over my shoulders if Mamma is watching and scouting with my eyes the backyard if I can spot a comfortable place to dump the annoying brandied cherries. It didn't take long to see the bush of my grandma’s peonies and off I went right there, tipped over the pot, plonked the cherries down and yelled over my shoulder “All done, Mamma!” running as fast as I can to finish off my wall ball game.

Not long after my “dropping mission” I heard some screams and cries of despair. We run back home to find my grandma devastated going in circles in the backyard. She was picking up her wobbly and wiggly young hens, who were having problem walking or standing on their feet. Few were already dropping on the ground. My grandma was trying to keep them standing, but the moment they had no support from her hands, they just flip and flop on the grass.

Mamma came down the stairs like a dart and the moment she saw the chickens, she knew what happened. She pierced me with her disapproving blue eyes. I was in big trouble... The poor things have found the brandied cherries behind the peony bush and had a big binge on them. I got punished and for the rest of the weekend I was writing homework, helped with the chores and didn’t play on the street with the neighbour’s kids.

My grandma’s young hens got better – we gave them lots of water for the next few days.

As for the cherry liqueur, I never missed a chance to lick on the sly the bottle neck if some drop would try to escape – it was ever so delicious!
It was also a secret recipe. The women from the neighbourhood were never given any slight hint of what goes in it. I might now anger the spirits of Mamma and Aunty Olga, but here it is:

MAMMA’S CHERRY LIQUEUR SECRET RECIPE

Ingredients:

1 kilo of good quality cherries

1 litre of good quality brandy (I use Napoleon)

1 kilo of sugar

Half of dozen of cinnamon sticks

12 clovers

Method:

Pour and mix everything in one big jar and let it soak for at least 40 days. The longer you leave it, the better. It can stay up to 6 months; however, I’ve heard some Italian old ladies soaking the fruit for up to a year. Goodness me, I can’t wait that long to have a sip!

Strain the liquid and bottle it in nice serving bottles. The fruit is delicious for serving as it is or can be used in elaborate dessert recipes (usually with lots of chocolate in them).

Well, let’s sip some of this beautiful ruby liquid and drink for the precious times when the chooks got drunk and Mamma nearly dusted my fluffy bottom…

To your health and long life!

Sophia

BEANS, BATH TUB FUN AND GREEN GROCERIES or 21st to 30th June 2014 – 365 DAYS OF PHOTOGRAPHY

12 November 2014

This time I have an eclectic collection of images and themes starting from some nostalgic homage to the simple bean soup my grandma cooked and finishing with one very hot afternoon with my girls cooling down with lots of bubbles and splashed water around...

21st June 2014

22nd June 2014

23rd June 2014

24th June 2014

25th June 2014

26th June 2014

27th June 2014

28th June 2014

29th June 2014

30th June 2014

Until my next post!

Ciao,

Sophia

CHERYL'S JEWELLERY, CASHMERE AND PINK CHANEL or 14th to 20th June 2014 – 365 DAYS OF PHOTOGRAPHY

8 November 2014

I made a bunch of photos as a support for the budding business of my friend Cheryl and her online jewellery store. Here is some small photo-session with her Christmas collection.

Until my next post!

Ciao,

Sophia

SPRING IN OUR BACKYARD, "VISITORS", LETS MEET CATE BLANCHETT AND POSTCARD FROM SYDNEY or 6th to 13th June 2014 – 365 DAYS OF PHOTOGRAPHY

27 October 2014

Mornings in springtime are delightful and we are finding any reason to be in our backyard with the young hens and watering the fruit trees. The apricot and almond trees are already full of fruit and if the rainbow lorikeets are merciful, we might have some wonderful fruit to pick this summer.

School holidays are wonderful for sleeping in and for the time we have to go and see places. I took the girls for a day-trip with the ferry to Opera House. Initially I promised that I'll take them to meet Cate Blanchett, because Apollonia and Amadea wouldn't agree to do anything until I cross my heart and give them my word. However, the trip and the kids exhausted me and we ended up relaxing, eating and enjoying the breeze under the umbrellas of The Sydney Cove Oyster Bar where we were waited and spoilt by the handsome Marcello. Ah, this time we missed to meet with Cate, but who cares - Marcello gave a kiss on the chick and a hug to Apollonia and that made our day! Don't forget, there is always another time and I am sure Cate wouldn't mind to wait just a little bit longer...

6th June 2014

7th June 2014

8th June 2014

9th June 2014

10th June 2014

11th June 2014

12th June 2014

13th June 2014

Until my next post!

Ciao,

Sophia

BOOKKEEPING, NEW CHICK IN DA HOUSE AND MY LATEST ODE TO BREAD or 29th May to 5th June 2014 – 365 DAYS OF PHOTOGRAPHY

25 October 2014

Bookkeeping has been haunting me with lots of procrastinated work sating in piles waiting to be sorted. My time was marked with working on few blog posts that are closely reflecting my passion on snacks, baking and bread. But lets not forget our new chick in da house.

29th May 2014

30th May 2014

31st May 2014

1st June 2014

2nd June 2014

3rd June 2014

4th June 2014

5th June 2014

Until my next post!

Ciao,

Sophia

LETTERS TO GARIBALDI; REVOLUTION, PISTOLS AND REVOLVERS or GRANDMA'S SIMPLE BEAN SOUP

24 October 2014

* Each month I share my virtual meal with Ilva and Simi.

This month we are inviting you to eat with us some soup.

Come in. Please, come in!

Sit down and get comfortable.

Here is some bread. Here is some soup. It is not much, but is from my heart. And it is very wholesome and good for you. Hope you like it.

This is my grandma Nitsa’s bean soup, just as she used to cook it. Poor thing, I remember her with her arthritic knotted fingers chasing the beans around the tray, always making sure she checked for any tiny pebbles or dirt that could've possibly mingled with the rest of the beans. And that was a lengthy cleaning and checking, as we were big family she was cooking for. It was her staple food for many reasons. She was deeply religious and following holy fasting more often than I can remember. Her essential meal was dry bread with few marinated dried olives and a plate of plain bean soup. So plain and so simple, that we colloquially would call any guileless thing “easy as a bean soup”.

She believed that we have to love and respect the little thing we get in life and her food was an echo of the life the way she saw it – humble and genuine.

We grew up hearing and reading the classic books about our national heroes at the sundown of the 19^th century, living in exile, fighting the oppression of the Ottoman Empire. They were young, brave, passionate, desperate. With every gathering for concocting a national upheaval, amongst the revolvers, firearms, barrels of dynamite, sables and many passionate letters written to Garibaldi inviting him to fight for their righteous cause, there were few copper pots, with simmering bean soup inside. “Freedom or Death” was their oath and as they crossed their rebellious hearts with one hand, they would sip a warm poor’s man bean soup with the other... It became unofficial and inseparable symbol of the hard life rebels and expatriates had.

Now you are sitting here with me – an expat with no much to rebel about and with no government to tumble, but very much ready to move the earth and change things with words and vision.

It tastes nice, isn’t it!

Lets sip some hearty bean soup... lets enjoy its simple and humble taste... (can I get you some more?)

…and lets hope it keeps me close to the pulse of my beginning.

GRANDMA NITSA’S PLAIN BEAN SOUP

Ingredients:

½ kilo of dried white beans

2 medium brown onions

Olive oil

Salt to taste

Method:

Clean and soak the beans overnight. The next morning strain the water and change with fresh one. Bring it to the boil and discard the boiled water. Rinse well and cover the beans with fresh water. Cut the onions finely and add three tablespoons of olive oil and one tablespoon of salt. Cover with a lid and bring to gentle simmer. Let it cook for more than two hours or until the onion has melted down and completely dissolved. The salt in will keep the beans intact and will prevent from getting mushy. Just before serving add more salt to taste.

Thank you for visiting!

Ciao,

Sophia

*Soundtrack from the acclaimed Bulgarian movie "Exiles"