Romania, Romania, Romania!

This is a special Delishnotism post, lovelies. Why is it special? Well, I'm about to give you a centuries-old family recipe for ciorba (pronounced 'chor-bah'). Ciorba is a traditional Romanian soup, and it's possibly one of the healthiest meals you could ever eat. As she ages, I'm becoming aware of how very important it is to write down as many of her recipes as possible.  This is my maternal grandmother's recipe. She is a Holocaust survivor from Ştefăneşti. One of the ways she has preserved our family heritage is through food, and I intend to keep the sounds and smells of her kitchen alive.

This soup is so versatile and simple. The version featured in this post is a rather modest rendition, using about half of as many ingredients as can be included!

You will need:

Scallions (known as spring onions in the UK).

Zucchini (known as courgette in the UK).

Brussels sprouts.

A generous amount of spinach.

An even more generous amount of kale.

A couple of potatoes, de-eyed and peeled.

A handful of cherry tomatoes.

Other common ingredients to include are carrots, yellow squash, beets, and bell peppers.

You will also need a couple of lemons and five tablespoons of brown rice. Keep on hand for later.

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After cleaning and preparing the ingredients, put them all into a sizable soup pot.

Fill the pot with water, about 3/4 full.

Cover the pot and turn the flame up to medium heat.

When the water boils, add the 5 spoon-fulls of rice.

The soup should be ready after about 30 minutes. Add salt to taste, and the juice of half a lemon to each bowl right before serving. The lemon juice is essential!

It will keep well in the fridge for about 4 days, and is just as enjoyable cold as it is hot.

Dare to Durian

Hello, all.

 Some of you may be the intrepid type to know about the durian fruit. It is a box of wonders among fruit. It has a large, spiky exterior which conceals a mushy paste inside. The paste has the consistency of egg or pudding; the flavour - to yours truly, at least - is reminiscent of mango and egg. It really is pretty good.

Here is a video which records our experiences of the fruit.

So what should you know for daring to do a durian day? While there are plenty of foodie types who can give you the full low-down on the durian, here's a few thoughts from us. First, you need to choose the right durian. We knew a few bits of information to get started. Firstly, Chinatown here in London has a few stalls that sell durians. Secondly, you should look out for durians that appear to be coming apart. This happens to all durians, and the more they are coming apart along various lines of the surface, the more ripe they are. And thirdly, ask the person manning the stall for a recommendation of the ripest choice. We unfortunately had a very unhelpful lady who, upon being asked which was the choice of the bunch, simply shrugged and said that any would do. Poor show, madam.

Next step. You have now bought a durian with the intention to eat it, in spite of what people will tell you about the smell ("It's like corpse vomit!") Before eating can begin, however, you need to get inside the darned thing, and its exterior makes that a challenge. Using our sharpest knife, Alyson sawed against the durian as best she could. The spikes make it tricky to handle, so if you want to try this, I'd suggest having someone hold it while wearing gloves (or no gloves if you don't much care for their hands). Also, see if you can lay it flat, then hold it in place. For the best cuts, Alyson went for those parts of the durian which appeared to already be rending.

Is Audrey's face correct? Does durian taste like 'glumph mini sick'? No, but it's funny to consider.

I cannot begin to tell you how thrusting down it with your boot does not work.

And now, you're in. What do you notice? Probably the smell. The durian is most reputed for that. Many who have tried durian describe the smell in rather discouraging terms, such as 'gym socks', 'sewage', 'rotting meat' and many other unlovely odours. But to your taste trial team - myself, Alyson and our French friend Audrey - the smell was simply of overripe tropical fruit that was close to rotting. So not wonderfully whiffalicious, but not pongtastic either. Ignore the smell, and go for the taste.

 As I said above, it tastes mostly of mango and has an aftertaste of egg. What makes reporting its taste somewhat subjective however is the taste seems to change slightly with each mouthful. Your taste buds seem confident on one mouthful, uncertain from the next. Yet this is a bonus. The durian is an adventure food, not a comfort food. So you can enjoy it for that. It is a very filling meal, too. We could not finish all the edible bits of the durian, and so have stored away the remainder for another time. (It is heavily secured in several plastic bags. It may not smell offensive now, but who knows what it is capable of, given time.)

That is all for now. We hope you have enjoyed this latest food foray, and perhaps that it encourages you to seek out durian for your own durian adventure.

Ta-ta for now, happy munching.
Phil