Baked Scotch Eggs

This is another finger food I served at the single malt tasting.  A very big hit.  I have combined a few recipes I found on the web. Baking them seemed a better option to frying and did allow a lot of the rendered fat to drain off.  Never knew Scots were known for loving anything/everything fried including fried Mars Bars!  Between this and the penchant for pasta from the Italian side, I never stood a chance! 

I only had jumbo eggs which I served cut in half.  A good sized portion, but the sausage did shrink and leave some naked spots, I placed the eggs so that this was not noticable.  I served with both sweet and savory condiments; horseradish mustard and haggis chutney.  Both were a success and all palates satisfied.  Next time I want to try the tip from Jamie Oliver http://www.jamieoliver.com/recipes/eggs-recipes/proper-scotch-eggs-with-lovely-scottish-cheese-and-pickle/#MGaaYxWDK32IvjiV.97 boil the eggs for less time so that the yolks are more creamy than hard.  Peeling seems like it will require great care, but I think worth the effort. And I will use smaller eggs.

Ingredients:

• 1 lb Breakfast sausage meat for each 4 eggs.
• 4 small or medium eggs, hard boiled
• flour
• 1 large egg
• 2 cups fine dry breadcrumbs

Directions

1. Hard boil the eggs.
2. Peel them, dip them in water and coat them in flour.
3. Wrap each egg evenly in a portion of meat, being sure they are covered completely.
4. Beat the remaining egg.
5. Dip each egg in the beaten egg then coat thoroughly in breadcrumbs.
6. Chill for one hour.
7. Place eggs on broiling rack, not touching.
8. Bake until golden brown on a cookie sheet at 400°F; about 20 minutes, turn and bake another 20 until golden brown.

Final words on Birthdays, for this year!

My 48^th birthday was a milestone.  I was in the process of adopting my daughter C and this was the first weekend that she stayed with me.  I remember waking very early and thinking about her asleep in the room next to me and I simply couldn’t stop grinning. I was overcome with joy.  I sat in bed for the longest time just being so happy; the best birthday present ever!

Tuning 50 was not a big deal for me; not a birthday of which I had any expectations.  On a Saturday a few weeks before the actual date I was supposed to go out to dinner with a group of friends.  I wasn’t feeling well that day; had an infection on my neck which was treated in the ER and couldn’t get it wet, so a shower and hair wash were out of the question.  I was feeling very sorry for myself and just wanted to stay home.  I never even thought it odd when my friend H insisted she would wash my hair in the kitchen sink, keeping my neck dry, so I could get dressed up.  Dragging my feet, and not being too silent about it, I did get ready.  The group of us set off in the van.  On the way we had to make one stop to pick up E.  Everyone was gung-ho to go into the AOH hall for a drink while we got E and then we would be off to the restaurant.  Still being so happy to be miserable, I whined that I would wait for them in the car.  But they just wouldn’t leave me alone.  “No, no, come in with us.”  Kicking and screaming all the way I did.  When we walked in the door I lost all sense of reality.  Time went into slow-mo.  The hall was packed.  There were the folks I worked with!  There were friends from Boston!  Over there friends from NY.  And there was my daughter!  And there was my brother and sister-in-law!  I just couldn’t process this.  What are they doing here?  What is this?  .  P told me, “This is for you; it’s your birthday party!”  Eventually it registered and I thought my heart would explode with the joy of it all.  My friend C had arranged this surprise party for me!  Folks from every aspect of my life filled the hall and they all were there for me!  I was beyond high with amazement and joy.  And, in case that wasn’t enough, there had been a parade in Peabody that day, and C’s husband E had arranged for the bagpipers to parade around the hall and play for me.  It was the event of my life! I was bursting with joy. It was a grand party.
 

With my 54^th birthday my life- long dream of motherhood was further fulfilled.  C’s sister S had come to live with us; we were now a wonderful family of 3 humans and 4 cats.  The girls gave me a surprise birthday party.  Well, they contacted friends who did all the work to make it what they wanted possible while they could be charming hostesses of the sweetest surprise party.  They got me out of the house and then back home in time for the surprise.  When it was over and all guests gone home the three of us went to Benson's http://bensonsicecream.com/ the best homemade ice-cream and indulged in sundaes.  Another perfect celebration.

Birthdays since then have been less dramatic but just as wonderful.  Usually a meal with close friends and being so happy to be able to spend the time together.  As I get older birthdays could began to seem less like something to look forward to if viewed as The Countdown.  But I learned that we do better not to treat them as markers of time passing; rather, use them as opportunities to celebrate the glorious gift that is our life.  My dear friend E advises that we should celebrate our birthday for the full 2 weeks surrounding it.  I like that.  

 It can be stressful to have to celebrate anything in the space of a single day – especially as we get busier, slower, and more dispersed.  Allowing days before and days after the singular day to qualify for celebration provides plenty of opportunity; opportunity to spend with friends, opportunity to recall joyful times, opportunity to grieve for those not with us. This year’s celebration began the Sunday before my birthday.  C’s and my birthday are just about a week apart, and Sunday was mid-way between.  I had a small gathering of friends for some food and fun.  My girls were there.  For me it was beautifully, perfect day.  I worked on my actual birthday, but treated myself to bought lunch, rather than the usual brown bag.  I had a McDonald’s lobster roll; a pretty good deal for the price.  The Saturday after my birthday I went with friends to the Peabody Essex Museum to view the Thomas Hart Benson exhibit and then have lunch.  I’ve had lots of cards, lots of calls, lots of wishes posted on my Facebook timeline.  And my gift to me was to make it official at work that I will wind down before year end and then embark on full time retirement.  All in all a really great, ongoing, celebration.  And I’ve still a few more days left.

More Birthday Memories

In my early 20s, my boy-friend F took me to a very fancy Italian restaurant in Manhattan.  We got really decked out, drove to Manhattan, valet parked.  Many of the wait-staff were opera singers.  It was a very elegant meal and one I’m sure we could never afford today.  And the singing, arias and choruses; so romantic.  I had never actually seen an opera, but grew up hearing them on the stereo, so there were lots of selections that were familiar and well liked. It was a most sophisticated, magical, artsy, and grown-up celebration.

Not it, but like this

 Rossini's

I’ve not had much problem with the years advancing, though turning 35 seemed hard.  At that time I had unmet goals and expectations and didn’t see them happening soon.  I was divorced and childless; being a mom had always been my singular driving purpose.  I did however have a really good job.  I had transferred from the field to the Home Office in Boston and was on the path to a career I never expected.  I had interesting colleagues wonderful friends, a supportive community based in my church, meaningful volunteer activities; all-in-all a very rich and rewarding life.  So I didn’t mope too long or too hard, but did mope a bit.  I did remind myself that if I wanted something, it wasn't going to come knocking on my door, I would need to get it or make it happen.  I'll save the escapades about trying to become a bio-mom for another time.

Approaching 40 was freeing.  The day after my 39^th birthday I started claiming 40.  For me this was a milestone.  It meant I was now truly an ADULT and I actually started to feel grown-up.  I was still a bit amazed at my job and did have the feeling that was a kid playing at CAREERS; any day now I was sure they would find out I was a fraud.  This never happened.  In my non-working life I was now truly a grown-up and was not to be messed with or intimidated by anyone. I suddenly had permission to speak up, assert myself and advocate; sales-clerks, auto-mechanics, even doctors and nurses, watch out! I not only expected to be treated with respect, but because I now commanded it, I was!.  WOW! A real awakening.

It was good I enjoyed my 40^th year as the actual birthday and time after was traumatic.  The week before my birthday, one of my two brothers died unexpectedly.  On my actual birthday my Mother died.  I had planned a huge party for myself, which, of course, was cancelled.  And, just in case this wasn't enough, an on-again/off-again relationship was ended (not by me).  And to top things off, my apartment was robbed!  It took a long, long time to recover from the losses. But I was blessed with loving and caring friends who sustained me through it. I was very shy to think about any kind of birthday celebration for many years to come.

A few weeks after this actual birthday, my friend F gave me my birthday present; we went to Six Flags New England (https://www.sixflags.com/newengland.  We arrived when it opened and left when it closed.  We did not waste one second on sissy rides and barely paused for refreshments. We did each of the roller coasters, water slides, and other scary rides at least 4 times.  This was the only time in my entire life that I left an amusement park exhausted, fully sated and not wanting or needing more.

More to follow.

 

Birthdays and Celebrations

I just celebrated my birthday.  Not the big 70, just its’ lead in; the end of the 60s. For me, birthdays are times to reflect and reassess.  Having had so many, I do enjoy remembering folks and activities that were part of past celebrations.  Not knowing how many more I will be blessed with reminds me to set good priorities, make good choices, and use my time well.  As a child birthday celebrations were pretty much a family affair: a special meal of the birthday boy or girl’s favorite dish and a cake.  A present for sure, usually already known as it had been asked, begged, pleaded for. 

When in I had just started school my BF, E and I both had summer birthdays.  I remember feeling so grown up as I was allowed to walk to her apartment, which was in the middle of the next block, on my own to attend her birthday party.  Typically the party ended with cake and ice cream.  Shortly after that I walked back home.  About half way there I knew I had a problem.  This was one of my earliest memories of the scourge of lactose intolerance, though didn’t know what it was then. I had no name for the problem, just knew I shouldn’t have cake and ice cream.  I was not able to make it home in time.  My parents weren’t home so I went up to the third floor of our triple decker when my Grandma and Aunt Jane lived. Aunt Jane was the coolest.  She was a secretary, worked downtown, kept her fingernails painted, wore heels and gloves to work each day.  She was single and had the greatest boyfriend, Arty.  She bailed me out, cleaned me up, cleaned up all evidence of the accident and never squealed.  To this day I love her dearly for keeping my secret and saving my pride and dignity. 

A few years later, when I turned 9 and when she moved away, my mother’s oldest sister, my Auntie Irene and I, became pen-pals.  She and grandma moved to Florida, we moved out of the city. I always had floral note cards which helped to limit the amount of original writing I would have to do.  For my birthday, Auntie Irene would send a card with some money and a letter all the way from Florida!  She always had a wonderful story to tell me.  This was a correspondence that lasted for many years.  I enjoyed writing to her and loved getting my very own mail.  I remember my earliest attempts.  They all began the same; I think I might have gotten “A child’s guide to letter writing” from the library and treated it like a recipe book, literally following every directive.

In my teens, I also got birthday packages.  These were a very special treat. My cousin L, on my Father’s side, (not to be confused with cousins E or B) made me birthday corsages.  These were done with candy, ribbon, and tulle; made by hand and had a theme for each birthday.  They were heavy, so I never wore mine outside of the house, and fearing they might break, only wore them for a short time.  I had a special shelf in my bedroom where I displayed them all year round; which I did until they got old, and dusty, and started to fall apart.  

Stay tuned.