Showing posts with label Sedum. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sedum. Show all posts

Thursday, 5 March 2020

Winter Garden Flowers & Café Au Lait

Our urban garden with its golden bed of wind-swept daffodils was strongly blurred behind fogged, rain-splattered kitchen windows this stormy morn.


It's fairly gloomy and has been for months. To cheer myself up I went into my office and peeked out of that window since it's partially protected from rain by a shutter positioned in awning mode, and lo and behold, daffodils in all their bright splendour!


I then realised Eli the Cat was out and about. When I went to fetch him I took my camera because the other day I had noted the luscious burgundy staining the potted sedum's outer leaves . . .


. . .  not to mention their yellow blooms. Its companion, late-summer-blooming pink heather has long since faded to white, but its dark green, needlelike leaves adds a nice contrast to the front garden display.


Upon our return, before I warmed up and cosily steamed up the kitchen at the same time by making café au lait, I towelled off the very wet Eli the Cat, including his pawsDrying him off is not only good for keeping Eli in good nick and not having mud tracked throughout, but also cats get upset when they smell their own fur, which they do when wetly odoriferous, because if they can, other animals not as friendly as moi can too. 

(Ingredients are in bold.) Café au lait is a lovely, lovely, lovely hot drink with a smooth but slightly airy texture. Though fairly simple needing no special machine, it's not just a coffee diluted with lots of milk as its strong taste is still present, but a bit more mellow. It's made by pouring separately and simultaneously one thirds hot, strong coffee, that is, a lot of coffee in proportion to water (I used three heaping teaspoons of freeze-dried coffee for 118 ml/4 oz hot water) and two thirds hot, whole milk (237 ml/8 oz) into a bowl specially made for cupping both hands around the warming surface while they are supported by a sturdy foot. In this sensual manner, the bracing and nourishing beverage is slowly sipped. A spare café au lait bowl can be used to measure roughly separate amounts of coffee and milk before heating them either on a stove or in the microwave in their own pots/containers. The higher the milk and coffee is poured, the more creamy it will be. The Calm One assisted by doing the pouring which was made easier by having the liquids in small pitchers. Alternatively the coffee and milk could be heated together, shaken in a lidded jar for about a minute, and poured into the bowl. It still won't be as foamy as a latte, because after all it is a café au lait.


Often presented as a morning meal, a bowl of café au lait is served with tartines which are slices of bread, either toasted or not, and spread with good things, like butter and jam or if something fancier is desired, with viennoiseries rich in butter, sugar, eggs, like chausson au pommes (literal translation: apple slippers, that is, apple turnovers), pain au chocolate, pain aux raisins, croissant aux amandes, and brioche. Young children usually have bowls of hot chocolate instead of coffee. In my case, I grated some dark chocolate over mine. Freshly grated nutmeg or a mint sprig would be nice touches instead. If I remembered to take out from the freezer the remaining blueberry muffin made with our own berries from last season, I would have toasted and buttered it. I promise you and me in the very near future this will be the case.


À la prochaine!

Thursday, 2 January 2020

A Frosty Morn Delights

Frost is captivating. When looked at from afar, it relaxes the mind, slowing down a zigzag of pesky thoughts enough to get to the point of wanting to go on out and get close to it. The laundry can wait. And that goes for checking email too.


Solid ice in the bird bath is thumped out of its giant plant saucer. Shards lay gleaming on the frosted grass; the bath gets filled with fresh water.


Nothing showcases ice better than the hot pink of penstemon.


There's wind ready and willing to disseminate a dandelion's pollen, but the pollen says not right this moment, but thanks anyway.


A paprika heuchera stuns with picot edging of delicate lace along with a piqué interior of dots. 


A dried sedum clustered flowerhead's swaying in the wind on leggy stems isn't hampered by a newly acquired coat of rime.


Solar lamps encrusted with white accentuate the geometrical purity of a circle and a diamond.


Within sweet alyssum's flowerhead each tiny bloom bears a close resemblance to candied violets.


Weak, wintry sunshine washes over thawed Queen Elizabeth hedge roses facing east in the front garden, fading the vibrant colour into one of old, tattered, salmon-coloured silk.


Pots of lobelia adorning a series of sous sol window sills facing west are still holding onto their blooms since June! Their icy blue fits right in.


À la prochaine!

RELATED LINKS

How frost can harm and help your garden