Band of Brothers, They Helped Defeat Hitler (Episode 3 Carentan)

NOTE: "Band of Brothers" is a highly realistic World War Two miniseries from HBO in 2001. Part of the "realism" is the profanity used; so, if you are sensitive to such language, the miniseries is definitely not for you. Also, there are numerous highly bloody scenes of killed or wounded soldiers, and scenes of people in a concentration camp, who have been the subject of horrendous treatment. So here too, if you are sensitive to these kinds of scenes, it is probably a good thing if you skip viewing the miniseries. As for this article and those I'll be doing about the miniseries, I have tried to keep things from being too blatant.

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This very realistic HBO series is based on the book "Band of Brothers" by historian Stephen Ambrose. Remember, this is NOT a documentary nor an actual reenactment, but rather a series with characters representing the actual men, with their real names, of East Company, 2nd Battalion, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment of the 101st Airborne Division. The series does present events and actions that the men of Easy Company related to Stephen Ambrose, the historian who wrote the book. In the book's "Acknowledgements and Sources," Ambrose writes that he "circulated the manuscript of this book to the men of Easy Company." He goes on to say there were criticisms, corrections and suggestions offered by the men, and that Richard Winters and Carwood Lipton were heavily involved in reviewing the book, the original publication of which was in 1992, while the first airing of the miniseries was in 2001. 

 

As I write about this series, I'll likely use a man's army rank on occasion, but for the most part, I'll use last names, just as the men do. The cast of this series is so large, I decided not to list it, as it would have been overwhelming, although I did decide to list just a few names of the cast who portrayed the men most seen, most heard and most heard about in the stories presented in this series. Believe me, the whole cast is likely 8 or 10 times as large as those I list here, and everyone did a great job.

 

Just a little comment and information here about Private John Hall, who was killed on D-Day, while helping some of the Easy Company men destroy a German 105mm artillery battery that was shelling American troops on Utah Beach (covered in previous segment on Episodes 1 & 2). Historian Stephen Ambrose didn't supply a lot of information on this young man in the book "Band of Brothers;" in fact, Ambrose mentions him in a couple of sentences of one paragraph of the book, ending with Winters ordering an attack on one of the German artillery positions, and that "Hall led the way and got killed." (In fairness, there may not have been much more Ambrose could have found out from the survivors of Easy Company when he interviewed them for his 1992 book, as Hall was not from their unit.) The miniseries gives Hall an expanded role, and he is called "a New Yorker," but his name was actually "John D. Halls" (with an 's'), and he was from Colorado. Note also, incredibly there was another paratrooper John D. Hall (no 's') who died when the transport he was on went down on the night of the jump into Normandy. In the series, Halls and Winters are alone, without any idea of where they are in Normandy. The young man is naturally nervous, but Winters talks with him about other things to help settle him down. Just prior to the ambush on the German troops and wagon, Winters gives Halls some responsibility when he tells Guarnere, "You and Hall up front," which brings Guarnere's retort, "Who the hell's Hall?" Later, when Winters is assigning tasks to his men for the attack on the German artillery battery, Halls obviously wants to take part, but he is left out, as he is not part of Easy Company, but later, he shows up at the fighting, and when Winters says he needs TNT, Halls says, "I have TNT, sir," which brings Winters to say, "Good job, Private!" We see throughout the miniseries that Winters tries to encourage the men, not humiliate them. The miniseries shows Halls being killed by stepping on a mine, with an obviously pained Lieutenant Winters stopping briefly when he sees Halls' body. Near the end of the episode, in a brief scene, a visibly affected Lieutenant Winters tells his friend Lewis Nixon about Halls being killed. Nixon tries to take his friend's mind off of Halls' death by talking about a German map with their artillery locations that was captured by Winters in the fighting at the German artillery battery, but it doesn't change Winters' solemn mood. (While the scenes with Halls seem to have been largely written for the script, the fact is, that young man died that day in the service of his country, age 22. He undoubtedly had parents and other family members who mourned his loss. He was posthumously awarded the Bronze Star for his actions that day. At least the series gave him a little recognition. He is buried at the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial in Colleville-sur-Mer, France.)

       

Partial Cast

 

Damian Lewis as Lieutenant, then Captain, then Major Richard Winters

Ron Livingston as Lieutenant, then Captain Lewis Nixon

Scott Grimes as Private, then Sergeant Donald Malarkey 

Shane Taylor as Medic Eugene "Doc" Roe

Donnie Wahlberg as Sergeant Carwood Lipton 

Michael Cudlitz as Sergeant Denver "Bull" Randleman

Frank John Hughes as Sergeant Bill "Wild Bill" Guarnere

Rick Gomez as Technician 4th Grade George Luz

Kirk Acevedo as Staff Sergeant Joe Toye

James Madio as Technician 4th Grade Frank Perconte

Eion Bailey as Private David Kenyon Webster

Dexter Fletcher as Sergeant John Martin

Ross McCall as Technician Fifth Grade Joseph Liebgott

Neal McDonough as Lieutenant Lynn "Buck" Compton

Nicholas Aaron as Private Robert "Popeye" Wynn 

David Schwimmer as Lieutenant> Captain Herbert Sobel 

 

This is the link to the first segment I did covering Parts 1 ("Currahee")  & 2 ("Day of Days"): 

 

https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2023/08/band-of-brothers-they-helped-defeat.html 

 

Part Three "Carentan"- June 8, 1944- This part opens with a paratrooper, helmet in hand, staring up at the sky. Three other Easy Company men, led by Sergeant Floyd Talbert (played by Matthew Leitch), see him, and Talbert calls out "Blithe .... Hey Blithe." The soldier finally turns, puts on his helmet as he walks over to the three men, telling them, "You're the first familiar faces I've seen." When the four men get into town, where the 2nd battalion, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment has its headquarters, Liebgott shows them a Nazi flag he has taken, and Floyd "Tab" Talbert pulls out a German army camouflage poncho. Private Albert Blithe (played by Marc Warren) goes and joins some other men, including Frank Perconte, who pulls up one of his sleeves to reveal some wrist watches he's taken from dead German soldiers. Even though we haven't seen Blithe for very long, he seems to be disconnected from the war. Lieutenant Harry Welsh (played by Rick Warden), commander of the 1st Platoon of Easy Company, calls the men together to tell them they are to take the town of Carentan, a town of about 4000 inhabitants in those days. 

 

The men set off, but after losing contact with the company ahead of them, Corporal Hoobler (played by Peter McCabe) and Private Blithe are sent ahead to make contact with the other company, which they do, and Blithe is then sent back to inform Easy Company. On his way back, Blithe turns and sees a German soldier facing him by a tree, but Lieutenant Winters comes out of the bushes and tells him the man is dead. Lewis Nixon is with Winters and he tells them the German is a Fallschirmjäger, the word for paratrooper in German. The dead soldier has an edelweiss in his lapel (Edelweiss is a flowering plant from the Alps), and Nixon explains that the soldier must have climbed up in the Alps to get it, and it means he's a true soldier. 

 

By morning, the men are on the edge of Carentan and begin to advance, but they face German machine gun fire from German paratroopers defending the town, causing the American paratroopers to take cover in the ditches on each side of the road leading into the town. Winters has to get them moving and the men enter the town to undertake house-to-house fighting, during which time the Germans use mortar and artillery fire to make things even more harrowing. Shifty Powers kills a German sniper who had already killed or wounded a couple of Americans. (Note: Historically, his comrades in Easy Company said "Shifty" was an excellent shot with a rifle.) Liebgott and Private Tipper (played by Bart Ruspoli) check the interior of a house, and as Tipper is leaving, a German mortar round lands nearby. When Tipper emerges outside the house, we can see how badly wounded he is, as blood is dripping from his face, and one eye is essentially gone (historically, Tipper lost his right eye in the battle, but the series shows it as the left eye), his legs are wounded and one shoe is smoking from the blast. In a moving scene, Liebgott has Tipper sit down and he holds him, as well as trying to comfort him (this was the end of the war for Tipper, and he spent the rest of the war in hospitals). 

 

During heavy fighting, we see Chaplain (Father) John Maloney (played by Doug Cockle) going to wounded and dead men without regard to the danger. German resistance lessens and the remaining German troops try to withdraw through swampy land around much of the outside of the town, but Easy Company machine gunners quickly deploy to devastate the fleeing Germans, who are out in the open. (Note: The Germans had expected the Allied invasion that summer of 1944, and they flooded many areas to make the landing of paratroopers and glider troops more difficult, as part of their defensive measures.) The U.S. 501st Parachute Infantry Regiment (also part of the 101st Airborne Division) sends a man on horseback to let Easy Company (a part of the 506th Regiment) know that their part of Carentan has been secured, and Lieutenant Winters tells the soldier that this section is also clear. The 2nd Battalion commander, Major Strayer (played by Phil McKee), asks Winters if it safe now, as they want to move the wounded out. Winters tells him it is, and not long thereafter, Winters is wounded in the lower leg by a ricochet. Winters goes to get the wound cared for by Medic Doc Roe. Nearby on the floor sits Private Blithe and Winters asks Doc Roe what's the matter with Blithe. Doc tells him that Blithe can't see. Winters goes over to Blithe and asks him what happened and Blithe says that his sight blacked out, and that he can't see anything. Winters tells him they're going to send him back to England, but Blithe is emotional and says, "I didn't want to let anybody down," but Winters assures him that's not in question. Winters goes back over to Doc Roe again, but Blithe gets to his feet and says, "Thank you, sir," and he says further, that he's all right and that now he can see again. Winters tells him to stay a little longer, then to head back to his platoon. (Note: In Ambrose's book "Band of Brothers," he relates a similar story about Blithe, and he says Winters said he had never seen anything like it, with Blithe so scared that he lost his sight, but that "all he needed was somebody ... to calm him down.")       

 

A number of the men are sitting around Carentan, when Lieutenant Speirs walks up and tells them they're going to be moving out shortly. Private Alton More (no double 'o' spelling, played by Doug Allen) cracks, "Don't they know we're just getting settled here?" Speirs stares at him, but walks away. This brings Warren "Skip" Muck (played by Richard Speight) to tell More, "You're taking your life into your own hands," with Alex Penkala (played by Tim Matthews) asking if he means because of the German prisoners Speirs shot, or because of one of his company's own sergeants that he shot. This brings Malarkey to emphatically ask, "You mean he shot one of his own guys?" Penkala says he heard that the guy was drunk and refused to go out on a patrol. Muck says he heard that Speirs "came up to a bunch of German POWs (for those unaware, it means "prisoner(s) of war"), gave them cigarettes and even a light, then he swung his Thompson machine gun around and hosed them." The picture on the screen this time (compared to this same incident in the previous part about D-Day) shows the Germans are all Waffen SS troops (in the first version, they are all regular German army troops), and this time, we are shown the executions. Private More adds that it was about 20 German prisoners that Speirs killed, but that he left one alone (the picture on screen shows the one young German prisoner so terrified of what he is seeing, that his lit cigarette burns down between his trembling fingers, but he doesn't flinch. Then Penkala says he heard that Speirs took a German 105 mm gun on D-Day all by himself, and how he went through heavy machine gun fire to do it. Malarkey tells them he saw that and it is true. Lieutenant Welsh calls out for the men to get up, because they're moving out. 

 

When Easy Company is moving along (on foot), machine gun fire starts and mortar shells begin landing. The men run for the bushes (hedgerow) right in front of them and they begin to fire back at the Germans, who are positioned in another hedgerow. Night comes and we see a figure use a pistol to tap on the helmet of a sleeping paratrooper. A very hushed voice tells the soldier to get up, because it's his watch. The soldier, Private George Smith )played by Iain Robertson), awakens and quickly gets to his feet with his fixed bayonet rifle and jabs at the figure, who yells, "It's me, Talbert," but he is wounded by the bayonet, but luckily, Liebgott pushes Smith away, telling him that it's Talbert. Smith looks stunned and he begins apologizing as Talbert calls out for a medic. Doc Roe appears and the situation begins to settle down and we hear Roe tell Talbert he will be okay. 

 

Meanwhile, in another foxhole, Sergeant Martin and Private Blithe are together. They hear Talbert yell for a medic and groan in agony, and they are curious as to what's happening. Blithe says he can't sleep, so Martin sends him to find out what the noise is about. On his way, Speirs pops out and tells Blithe everything is in order; so, they go to the foxhole with Martin. Speirs tells them, "Do what you have to do," which prompts Blithe to tell Speirs, "Sir, when I landed on D-Day, I found myself in a ditch all by myself. I fell asleep." He attributes the sleepiness to the air sickness pills they had been given (historically, there were other paratroopers who complained that the pills made them drowsy). Blithe continues that when he woke up, he really didn't try to find his unit to fight, but just stayed where he was. Speirs asks him if he knows why he hid in the ditch, and Blithe says, "I was scared." Speirs says, "We're all scared. You hid in that ditch, because you think there's still hope ... The only hope that you have is to accept the fact that you're already dead. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can function like a soldier is supposed to function and act without mercy, without compassion, without remorse. All war depends upon it." Speirs walks away. 

 

When daylight comes, the Germans begin firing mortars and machine guns, and Easy Company returns fire. The German mortar shelling grows and Blithe is totally panicked in his foxhole, crying and screaming. Winters goes along his line of men who are firing at the German positions. He shouts encouragement and gives instructions at times. He comes to Blithe and he reaches down and grabs him and tells him, "Stand up soldier." Blithe stands and points his gun toward the German positions; Winters tells him to fire his weapon, and Blithe fires. Winters tells him, "Don't stop, keep firing," and Winters stands next to Blithe firing his rifle as he encourages Blithe. It calms Blithe and gives him courage to see the company commander next to him firing on the enemy, and Blithe reloads and continues firing. 

 

The Germans now send some armored vehicles into the battle, all from the 17th SS Panzergrenadier Division. German paratroopers also kneel in firing position and fire at the American lines. One German assault gun fires and hits the tree and hedgerow area by machine gunner Walter "Smoky" Gordon (played by Ben Caplan), temporarily putting Gordon out of action. Lieutenant Welsh takes Private John McGrath (played by Stephen Walters) and a bazooka to try to destroy the German assault gun. The bazooka's first shot hits the shield for the vehicles machine gun. The assault gun has to then come up over a small rise, and when it dies, Welsh tells McGrath to fire, which he does, and the bazooka round penetrates the more lightly armored underside of the assault gun, which causes it to explode. (Note: German assault guns were often mistaken for tanks, as they were built on tank chassis, but they lacked a revolving turret, but that made them cheaper and easier to produce, and the Germans produced thousands of them on various tank chassis.) Gordon recovers and begins firing again, and as heavy fighting is ongoing, suddenly shells explode around the German troops and vehicles. Sherman tanks from the U.S. 2nd Armored Division have arrived and tipped the battle to the American favor. The Germans begin to withdraw. 

 

Blithe takes aim at a German paratrooper and fires. The man crumples, but then a withdrawing vehicle blocks the view of him, and when the vehicle passes, the man is gone, although his helmet rolls down the uneven ground. Firing stops and American troops begin to move around. Blithe goes up the rise to where the German had been. He sees blood on the ground and he tracks the blood trail a short distance until he sees the German paratrooper dead on the ground. Blithe looks at the man without emotion, then he squats down and takes the man's edelweiss from his lapel and slips it onto his own jacket. Blithe is now a real soldier. 

 

On D-Day + 25, Welsh and Lewis Nixon have a number of men out, when they come onto a farmhouse. Welsh asks for volunteers to check the house, but only Blithe offers to go; so, Welsh picks Martin and Dukeman (Mark Lawrence) to go with Blithe, with Blithe being the lead. As they near the farmhouse, Blithe moves up and sees nothing, but as he starts to signal to the other two men, a shot rings out and Blithe falls to the ground, badly wounded in the lower part of his neck/collarbone. Welsh orders covering fire and the other men drag Blithe clear of the house, where Doc Roe comes to treat him. Lieutenant Winters comes and tells Nixon and Welsh the company is being pulled off of the front line to an area in the rear with hot food and showers, and then they will return to England. 

 

The scene shifts to a field hospital and we see piles of uniforms from wounded men. The camera gets closer and we see a 101st Airborne uniform with an edelweiss in the breast pocket. We then see a hospital. Inside, among the patients, we see Gordon and Popeye Wynn. Gordon receives his third Purple Heart. Blithe, his neck heavily bandaged and his eyes focused on the ceiling, is wheeled in on a bed and placed on the other side of Popeye. Wynn tells Gordon, "How many (Purple Hearts) is that? Two? Three? You have no shame." Gordon tells of his wounds, but Popeye tells him, "He (pointing over toward Blithe) only gets one." Gordon looks somberly over toward Blithe.

  

Easy Company returns to England, where Malarkey and More take an Army motorcycle and sidecar and go speeding through the area. They nearly collide with a truck. We then see the men in a mess hall in England, where Gordon gives the company his version of "The Night of the Bayonet," a poem about Smith bayoneting Talbert, and the whole place rocks with laughter. At the end, Gordon gives Talbert one of his Purple Hearts, since Talbert wasn't wounded by the enemy. Sergeant Lipton asks for the company's attention, and he tells them to pack up all their gear, because they are returning to France, and they aren't expected to return to England. The hall is quiet. Early the next morning, Malarkey knocks at the door of a lady, Mrs. Lamb (played by Diana Kent), who does laundry for the soldiers. He tells her the company is leaving England for good, this time. He pays her for his laundry, and she asks if he could also take Lieutenant Meehan's laundry, as she thinks Meehan has forgotten it. Malarkey has a saddened look on his face, because he knows Meehan is dead, and he takes the laundry and pays her. She then asks about some others, and she reads their names from the bundle of each man's laundry, ending with Albert Blithe. All have been either killed or wounded.

 

This part ends with onscreen information that Easy Company lost 65 men in Normandy. Then comes another bit of information, but it is incorrect. The info says that Albert Blithe never recovered from his wounds in Normandy, and that he died in 1948. Dick Winters and the other men had that same information, and thus, it was put into Ambrose's book and also into the miniseries. How the year 1948 came to be affixed to Blithe's death, is puzzling. Blithe's family contacted people to correct the record. He did indeed recover from his wounds, and he re-enlisted in the Army in 1949 and fought in Korea and was decorated for his service. Blithe died in 1967, he was only 44 years of age. He is buried at Arlington National Cemetery, which is located just outside Washington D.C. in Arlington, Virginia. 

 

 

  Photo is of the HBO 2015 Blu-Ray Miniseries release ...

WORD HISTORY:  

Shamble(s)-The word really is "shamble," but it has come to be used in the plural form. It goes back to Indo European "skambh," which meant "to support, to prop up." This gave Latin "scamnum," meaning "bench, stool," which produced the diminutive "scamellum," meaning "small bench, short stool," and this was borrowed into West Germanic as "skamil," with the same meaning. This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "scamol/sceamol," essentially with the same meaning, but also eventually, "footstool," and then "a bench or stool for displaying goods for sale." The form then became "schamel," but with variants like "shamel, shamel(l), schamil, schambyl(l) and others, all with the "stool, footstool, stool/bench for displaying goods for sale," meanings. The word then became "shamel" (shamels?), meaning bench or small table with the more specific "meat products for sale" (circa 1500); thus also, "meat shop or market," but in some places the word was used for "slaughterhouse" (mid 1500s), which developed into a meaning of "place of slaughter and butchery;" thus later too, "a place of a mess," which began to be applied to "battlefields," and "places of death or destruction." Relatives in the other West Germanic languages: German has "Schemel" (footstool), Low German has "Schamel" (small short stool), Danish "skammel" ("stool," borrowed from Low German, Danish is North Germanic), Dutch "schemel" (low bench).  

Satin Angel Cocktail

Frangelico is an Italian sweetened, hazelnut-flavored liqueur, with 20% alcohol content. Use a 10 ounce old-fashioned glass (see photos, below).

Ingredients (per cocktail):

 

1 1/2 ounce Frangelico 

1 1/2 ounce Coca-Cola

2 1/2 ounces cream (or half and half)

ice

 

To a 10 ounce old fashioned glass, add the Frangelico, Coco-Cola and cream to the glass, stir and then add a couple of ice cubes, and stir briefly again. 

WORD HISTORY: 

Pillow-The ultimate origin of "pillow" is uncertain, although there is a rather "difficult" theory (I'm not totally sold on it, but it is the best we have) that "pillow" goes back to Indo European "pel," with the general meaning "dust," which was derived from the word's original meaning of "beat, hit," with the idea that grains were "beaten" to separate out the "chaff," with both "flour" (the end result of the entire process) and "chaff" then associated with "dust,"^ and chaff has long been used by some to fill pillows (understand, these were not necessarily the big fluffy pillows we often have today). Anyway, the theory is carried further with the Indo European form giving Latin the noun "purvis," meaning "dust," also "ashes," which then produced the noun "pulvinus," meaning "pillow, cushion." West Germanic borrowed the Latin form as "pulwi," and with the meaning of "pillow," and this gave Old English "pyle" (ending 'e' pronounced 'ah/eh'), which had a number of variants bridging Old English into Middle English, some of which were: "pylwe, pile, pylow, pilowe;" with "pillow" finally emerging as the winner; although it is often, but certainly not always, pronounced as "pillah." 

 

^ See "Etymological Dictionary of Latin and the other Italic Languages" (Volume 7 of the Leiden Indo-European Etymological Series, by Michiel de Vaan, Brill (Publishing), Leiden (Netherlands), Boston (U.S.), 2008.   

Catalina Salad Dressing

The origin of "Catalina Salad Dressing" seems to be that it was invented by the Kraft Company; however, some feel it is connected, in some way, to Catalonia Spain.

 

Don't be intimidated by the cayenne pepper, as it is only a quarter of a teaspoon, which is not anywhere near the amount needed to make you feel as if your mouth is a furnace.

 

Ingredients:  

 

1/2 cup ketchup

1/4 cup red wine vinegar

1/4 to 1/3 cup honey (or sugar), according to your preference

2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce

1 teaspoon onion powder

1/2 teaspoon sweet paprika (not the smoked type)

1/4 teaspoon dry mustard

1/4 cayenne pepper (or other hot ground red pepper) 

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup vegetable oil (or other oil)

 

Add ingredients, except the oil, to a blender. Blend the ingredients for about 15 to 20 seconds, then, with the blender running, drizzle the oil into the dressing through the blender's opening until the oil is incorporated into the dressing. Best to refrigerate for at least an hour, and stir or shake the dressing before serving, as the oil will continue to separate.

 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Crow-(verb and noun) This word is related to "crane." "Crow" goes back to Indo European "gerh/greh," in imitation of the call of some birds; thus, "to cry out in a shrill voice, to make a screeching sound." This gave Old Germanic "kreowan(an)," with the same general meaning, and this then produced the Old Germanic noun "kreo," meaning "crow" (the bird name, and apparently only retained by the West Germanic languages, including English), and this gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "crawe," which then became "crowe," before the modern form. Relatives in the other West Germanic languages: German has "Krähe," Low German has "Kreih," West Frisian has "krie," Dutch has "kraai." The verb "crow" goes back to the Old Germanic verb (above) which gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "crawan" (long first 'a'), which then became "crowen," before the modern form. Besides its longstanding meaning of "to make a screeching or shrill sound," by the first half of the 1500s, it also meant "to cry out in a proud and triumphant way." The other West Germanic languages have: German "krähen," Low German "kreihn," Dutch "kraaien" (apparently with the verb too, Frisian doesn't use it, even the Brothers Grimm have no Frisian forms).   

Orange Julius

This frothy and creamy drink tastes a good deal like a "creamsicle." It was developed in the 1920s and refined within a few years to be a creamier and less acidic drink. I use some heavy cream in my version, but you can replace the cream with more milk. 

 

Ingredients (5 to 8 servings, depending upon glass size):

 

12 ounce can frozen orange juice

1 can water

12 ounce can evaporated milk (not sweetened condensed milk)

1/2 cup cream

1/2 cup powdered sugar, not firmly packed

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

ice cubes for serving

 

Put all the ingredients, except the ice cubes, into a blender and blend until everything is well mixed and frothy. Add ice cubes to individual serving glasses and pour the Orange Julius over the ice. If serving later, you can pour the blended liquid into a pitcher and refrigerate, but don't add ice cubes, as they will melt and water down the drinks, but stir briskly before serving to give the mixture its characteristic frothiness and then add a couple of ice cubes to individual servings, if desired.  

 

 

 

 I used a bigger glass for this one ...

WORD HISTORY:

Twitch (Tweak)-These words are related to words like "two," "twin" and "twain," all of which have to do in some way with the number and idea of "two," and they are all from Germanic. The origin of the forms "twitch" and "tweak" is Indo European "dwoh/dwah/duwo," which meant "two," which gave West Germanic (seemingly NOT Old Germanic^) "twikkjon(an)," meaning "to fasten (onto), to clamp (onto)," seemingly originally, "grab or fasten onto with 2 fingers or with 2 pointed objects"), with words in the West Germanic dialects/languages derived from this form meaning "to pluck, to pull, to pick, to grab, to divide something in half (that is, into two parts), to catch or take hold of, to pinch." The Old English verb form was "twiccian" meaning "to pluck, to pick, to take hold of," and this then became "twicchen," meaning "to pluck, to pull," "totwicchen," meaning "to pull apart, to pull into pieces," and "twikken" meaning "to pluck, to pull, to tug." "Twicchen/totwicchen" became "twitch" with the meaning "a quick, usually involuntary, muscle spasm (like a pulling or tugging feeling)," and the verb form meaning "for a muscle to produce such a quick pulling, tugging feeling." "Twikken" produced "tweak" circa 1600, meaning "to pinch or tug on with a fast twisting motion (usually in reference to the nose or cheek)." Some relatives in the other West Germanic languages: German has the verb "zwicken" ("to pinch"), noun "Zwicke" ("a pinch, a tweak"), Low German had? has? verb "twicken/twikken" ("to pinch, to squeeze"), Dutch has "twikken" ((to pinch, to squeeze"). I could not find a form in Frisian. 

 

^ There doesn't seem to have been forms in North or East Germanic from this specific verb. English is West Germanic. Understand, there were other, related, forms in Old Germanic that derived from the Indo European form.   

Mashed Sweet Potatoes & Ham Gravy

Just as we often use the juices from roast beef, roast pork or roast chicken to make gravy, the juices from baked ham shouldn't be overlooked, and ham gravy is super. It should not be confused with "red-eye gravy," which is typically made from the drippings of ham fried in a skillet to which black coffee is added (the fatty ham drippings and coffee produce a reddish brown sauce that looks like a red eye).

 

These mashed potatoes are a great side dish next to some freshly baked ham. I like sweet potatoes to be sweetened further for sweet potato casserole, but I only use a small amount of sweetener when I have mashed sweet potatoes, and at times, I don't add any sweetener. So, you can certainly add sweetener in the amount you prefer. 

Ingredients:

 

1 1/4 pound sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1 to 2 inch chunks

1 1/2 tablespoons butter

2 to 4 tablespoons canned milk (evaporated milk, NOT sweetened condensed milk)

1 or 2 tablespoons honey (or maple syrup)

1/4 teaspoon nutmeg (or mace)

1/2 teaspoon ground white pepper

pinch of salt

 

For the gravy:

 

3 strips bacon, chopped

4 tablespoons flour

1 1/2 cups ham broth

1/4 cup canned milk

1/4 teaspoon ground white pepper

2 tablespoons finely chopped ham

salt not needed due to broth and bacon

 

Cover the peeled and cut sweet potatoes with water in a pan over high heat, add a pinch of salt. Bring the water to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium to maintain a steady, but not a rolling boil. Cook the sweet potatoes for 8 to 10 minutes, then use a fork to see how close they are to being done; and proceed until they are tender, but not mushy. 

When the sweet potatoes are done, drain them and return them to the same pan over very low heat. I add the butter, honey and the 2 tablespoons of milk to the pan. If you add more milk  than that right off, you may end up with runny sweet potatoes, so it's best to add it a little at a time, if or as needed. Stir the ingredients around until the butter melts, then remove from the heat. Add the nutmeg, white pepper and a pinch of salt. Use a hand mixer to mash the sweet potatoes until they are smooth and creamy. During this process, if you feel they need more milk, add one tablespoon at a time and continue with the mixer. 

For the gravy: Add the chopped bacon to a pan or skillet over medium heat. Let the bacon cook to render the fat, then sprinkle in the flour and stir to make a roux (if there is not enough bacon fat to make the roux, add a tablespoon of butter, let it melt, mix it around, then add the flour). Cook the roux for just a minute or two to remove the raw flour taste. Use the liquid in the baking pan from the ham; that is, the ham juices, and add enough water to it to make 1 1/2 cups. Begin adding the ham broth (about 1/4 cup to start), and keep stirring to get it incorporated with the roux; then, add 1/2 cup broth and repeat the process, continue until all the broth is used and the gravy is smooth (except for the bacon bits), then add the milk and do the same process. Add the finely chopped ham and the white pepper and stir well to mix it all in.

 

Serve the ham gravy over the mashed sweet potatoes ...   

  

 

WORD HISTORY: 

Trek-This word, related to "drag" and to "draw," both original English words from Old Germanic, goes back to Indo European "dhragh," which had the notion of "to pull." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "dragan(an)," with the same meaning. This "seemingly" produced a somewhat later West Germanic variant form, "trakjanan," meaning, "to drag, to pull roughly, to scrape." I say, "somewhat later," because apparently English did not have a form, and the Germanic dialects that became English left the continental North Sea areas beginning in the mid 400s and into the 500s AD. The variant form gave Dutch "trecken," with the meaning, "to drag, to pull;" thus also, "to travel by cart/wagon" (which, of course, was pulled by animals). This then became "trekken." The Dutch began a strong colonial involvement in southern Africa in the mid 1600s. Many Dutch colonists settled there, and a Dutch dialect gradually developed in southern Africa, more recently declared to be a language in its own right, Afrikaans. Dutch "trekken" was naturally carried to the Dutch settlements in southern Africa; thus to early "Afrikaans," by which time, the word had come to mean the more generalized "to travel, to move from one area to another," and this then became "trek," in Afrikaans, also meaning, "to travel, to migrate, to transport," which also then developed the like spelled noun, meaning, "a migration, a journey." The verb and noun were borrowed into English in the mid 1800s, as English speaking colonists were also present in southern Africa by that time. Other relatives in the Germanic languages: German has "trecken" ^ (Treck is the noun form, from Low German in the later 1800s), verb form meaning, "to hike, to move/travel in a migration;" Low German Saxon "Treck" (noun, "migration;" the verb seems no longer to be used); Dutch "trekken" (to pull, to drag, to migrate, to travel; noun "trek," meaning "draught (air flow 'traveling through an opening'), migration"); West Frisian "trekke" (to pull, to drag); Danish "trække" (borrowed from Low German, "to drag, to pull").

^ The original German form was diminished to dialectal use, but it was revived, to some extent, as something of a borrowing, or reinforcement from Low German. Also, the Germans were involved in southern Africa, which provided some reinforcement from Dutch/Afrikaans.

Roy Rogers Mocktail

Another "mocktail," but this time named after cowboy actor and singer Roy Rogers. When I was a kid in the 1950s, Roy Rogers and his wife, Dale Evans, were popular in movies and in a television series that aired on the NBC network in those times.

 

Ingredients (per drink):

 

6 ounces coca-cola (or other cola)

1/2 ounce grenadine

(optional) squeeze of fresh lime juice from a small lime wedge (use the wedge as a garnish)

2 or 3 maraschino cherries for garnish

ice

tall glass (10 ounce glass is good)

 

Real easy ... Add some cola to the glass, then add the grenadine and stir. Now add plenty of ice, then add a squeeze of lime juice from a small lime wedge, then put the squeezed lime wedge into the glass along with 2 or 3 maraschino cherries. 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Sober-This compound word (actually prefixed word) goes back to Indo European "se/swe," which had the notion "away, separate, apart;" thus also, "lacking, without," and to Indo European "(h)eg" (to drink) which gave Latin the adjective "ebrius," meaning "drunk." (This makes "sober" related to "inebriate," a Latin-derived word borrowed by English from that language.) Latin combined the two parts into "sobrius," which meant "not drunk ('without alcoholic drink');" thus also, "self-restrained, not given to immoderate behavior." This passed to Latin-based Old French as "sobre," meaning "not drunk, not given to drinking alcohol, modest, laid back in behavior or personality." English borrowed the word in the 1300s, initially as "sobre," but it wasn't long before that changed to "sober," where it has been for hundreds of years. The idea of not being drunk, then also, not given to immoderate behavior, led to the more direct meaning of "serious, solemn," which is still a secondary meaning to the word's primary meaning of "not drunk." A verb form also was present in the 1300s, initially with the meaning "to bring someone to a condition of calm," which by the earlier 1700s added "to have or develop a state of seriousness toward something," and by circa 1825 "to bring out of a state of drunkenness," which not many years later was paired with "up," as "sober up." (Notes: 1) English once used "undruncen" as its word for "sober," and that is a word that would still work well in modern English, although with the modernized spelling to "undrunken;" 2) Latin "sobrius," see above, had a common spoken form "subrius," that was reduced to "suber," meaning "modest, level-headed, prudent, clean from alcohol," and it was borrowed by the West Germanic languages, giving Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "syfre," meaning "modest, without blemish, spotless, pure." The English word died out, as did its relative in Low German, "subri/sufra (?)," but forms are still kicking in its Dutch relative "zuiver," meaning "pure, clean," and its German relative "sauber," meaning "clean," but also "perfect, without flaw," in some contexts, and in parts of Bavaria and Austria it can also mean "cute.")       

Savory French Toast

When we think of "French toast," our minds shift to images of golden fried slices of egg and milk soaked bread topped with butter and likely maple syrup, some fresh fruit or perhaps our favorite jam, and maybe even some whipped cream. Well ... forget about that! This is about savory French toast. Food historians have traced the general dish back to the Roman Empire in the 400s A.D. The general idea of soaking bread in milk and egg is known by various names, with "French toast" being the term used in the U.S., seemingly, however, that term was brought to the American colonies by settlers from England in the 1600s, while in France it is known more as "pain perdu," which means "lost bread." The idea with the French term was that this was a way to use up stale bread, rather than wasting it ("losing it"). In England and Britain, in general, the term "French toast" is common, but some also call it "eggy bread" or the more interesting term "Poor Knights of Windsor," named after (in more modern times) retired knights who live at Windsor Castle, and who perform ceremonial duties, although the original term seems to have just been "Poor Knights," which is the same term used for the dish in German speaking areas; that is, as "Arme Ritter." The German term also dates back hundreds of years and it seems too much of a coincidence that the English and German terms developed independently of one another, but which had the original is unknown to me. In England, the "of Windsor" addition to the term came from a group of impoverished knights who were given living quarters at Windsor Castle for their service to the Crown, and who staunchly supported the king or queen, including in their prayers. Eggs, milk and stale bread were cheap and were readily available to provide a filling meal for these men. Why the dish is known as "French toast," is seemingly unknown with any certainty, but one explanation by some is that it was named for a man in England with the family name "French," who served it a lot at his inn a few hundred years ago. Others have speculated that the reputation that had developed for French cooking brought someone in England to dub it "French toast" to make it sound classy.  

 

There are various recipes for savory French toast, but this is my own version and it uses one of my favorite things ... KETCHUP, which is used for some French toast recipes in England and Britain, and I'm calling this an "English recipe." It's best if you use bread that is a couple of days old, but if all you have is fresh bread (especially spongy fresh sandwich type bread), give it a little time in the toaster to firm it up a bit.  

 

Ingredients:

 

4 slices of white bread (preferably a couple of days old, or lightly toasted to firm it up)

3 eggs 

1/4 cup milk

1 teaspoon garlic powder

1 teaspoon onion powder

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1 teaspoon seasoned salt

oil for frying (I use olive oil or sunflower oil)

ketchup for serving 

 

In a cup or small bowl, add the garlic powder, onion powder, ground black pepper and seasoned salt; mix together well, set it aside. Use a shallow dish to add the eggs and milk, and beat until well mixed, but you don't really want this to be frothy. Add 1 or 2 slices of bread (whatever you can fit into the dish you use) and let the bread soak for about 30 seconds, then flip it over to let the other side soak in the egg/milk mixture (if the bread is particularly dry, you might want to give it a little more time in the liquid). Heat a couple of tablespoons of oil in a skillet over medium heat. Sprinkle a little of the dry seasoning mix onto the soaked bread slices. Add a slice or two of the soaked bread to the skillet, seasoned side down, then sprinkle some of the seasoning mix on what is now the top of the bread slices in the skillet. Let the bread fry to set the bottom of the bread (in the meantime, start soaking another slice or two of bread in the egg/milk). When the egg is set on the bottom, turn the bread over and fry the other side. You can always fry the bread longer on one side or the other, if it is not brown enough. Repeat for the remaining bread slices. Serve with some ketchup squirted over the top of each piece of savory French toast, which is a REAL FAVORITE of mine.  

 

WORD HISTORY:

Stout-This word, primarily used as an adjective, but also used as a noun, is related to "stall," the noun forms meaning "place for animals or small business outlet or kiosk," and "avoidance for taking some action," and to the verb form "to lose power, or to come to a stop," to "stalk," the noun for "plant stem," but NOT to the verb form meaning "to follow someone in a stealthy way," to "stilt," and to the main part of "install," with all of these words coming from Germanic, but with "stall," with the meaning "avoidance of taking action," being borrowed from French, which had it from Germanic Frankish, and "install" being a word borrowed by English from French, which had it from Latin, which had it from Germanic. "Stout" goes back to Indo European "stel," which had the notion, "to stand something in place, to put or place." This gave West Germanic "stult" (from one of the Old Germanic forms that likely produced one or more of the related words above, but which is uncertain), meaning "upright, rigid, firm," and thus figurative meanings, "proud, strutting, bold." There are forms in the continental West Germanic languages from long ago, but no Old English form is known, "perhaps" because this form developed after the Anglo-Saxons had gone to Britain? (Of course too, it could have been little used and, thus, unrecorded, and then died out?) Frankish, one of the continental West Germanic languages, had "stolt," and Old French absorbed the form as "estolt," meaning "courageous, bold," but seemingly also at times "foolhardy" (bold to the point of foolishness), and this then became "estout," meaning "courageous, bold, fierce, temperamental." English borrowed the word in the early 1300s as "stout" meaning "bold, courageous, valiant, steadfast, vigorous, strong." Within a few decades, the word had also developed the meaning "powerfully built," but by circa 1800, this had gone to "heavy set, fat, bulky" and has been used as a softened term for "fat in build." The noun use of "stout" for "strong ale" is from the 1670s. 

Brussel Sprout Salad

A great salad with no cooking, except for a few seconds to toast the seeds, and that's not absolutely necessary. It's good as a side dish or with some bread or rolls as a nice lunch. The only time consuming part is with the Brussels sprouts themselves. The best way to prepare them is to split the sprouts lengthwise, then to remove the stem from the sprout halves by cutting a 'V' at the bottom (see more in the instructions below). You can easily vary the amounts of the ingredients if you prefer; for instance, if you like pears, just chop up some more and eat them yourself, don't fool with the recipe!!! You thought I was going to say "add them to the salad," which you certainly can do. Haha  I suggest making a good quantity of the dressing by adjusting the amounts below, and then storing the extra amount in a jar or other glass container, not metal or plastic, as the vinegar can interact with these materials. I don't care much for sour foods, so I use more honey in the dressing, but I don't recommend reducing the amount of vinegar, as you want the vinegar to help preserve the salad, and it will keep in the refrigerator for a few days. If you make some extra dressing, you can add a little of it to future servings. 

Ingredients (numerous servings):

1 pound Brussels sprouts, washed, stem removed, then sliced
1 pear, green or red, skin on, rinsed, cored and chopped  
3/4 cup dried cranberries
1/4 cup pepitas (or sunflower seeds), lightly toasted
1/2 cup crumbled or shaved Pecorino Romano

For the dressing:

3 tablespoons red wine vinegar or sherry vinegar
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 or 3 tablespoons honey (your preference for sweetness)
3/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
(optional) 1/2 teaspoon salt (the cheese has salt)

Rinse the Brussels sprouts, remove the stem and any discolored leaves. To remove the stem, split the sprouts lengthwise. You can then easily see the split stem. Remove it by cutting a 'V' shape. Slice the sprout halves crosswise into 3 or sometimes 4 pieces. Add the sprout slices to a bowl of water as you go. Stir the sliced sprouts around in the water with your hand. Drain the sprouts and lay them out on some doubled paper towels to drain well. The "heavy duty" work is done. Put the sliced sprouts into a large bowl, add the chopped pear, dried cranberries, seeds and Pecorino Romano. (It isn't necessary to toast the seeds, but if you'd like to do so, simply heat a skillet over medium heat and then add the seeds. Shake the skillet or stir the seeds and toast them until they just begin to turn lightly browned.) In a glass jar, bottle or other glass container, add the dressing ingredients and shake or mix to blend everything. Give it a little taste to see if you want to add more honey (or more vinegar, if you like a more sour taste). Add the dressing to the salad and mix well to distribute the dressing throughout the salad. You can serve the salad then, but it's better if it has a minimum of a couple of hours in the refrigerator. Cover and store the unused portion in the refrigerator for a few days.   

WORD HISTORY:
Brook-There is a verb in English that has come to be spelled the same way as the noun, but it is unrelated to the noun. If you are interested in the verb form, here is the link,^ but this is the noun meaning, "a small stream," but also meaning "marshy land" in some parts of England (see relatives below). While the origin of this word is considered to be uncertain to some, I'm pretty much convinced it goes back to Indo European "mrog/mreg," meaning "marshland,"^^ which was from Indo European "mereg," which meant "borderland," with the idea that particular geographic features have always been used to set the boundaries of land possession, until surveying became the legal means for doing so. "Mreg/mrog" produced Germanic "broki/broka," meaning "wetland, marshland," with Indo European "mr" becoming Germanic "br." Old Irish, a Celtic language, had "mruig," meaning "parcel of land, homestead," but later this became "bruig," which means it also changed to "br," or that it borrowed this form from Germanic. The Germanic form seemingly did not take hold in the North Germanic branch of the Germanic languages, but it did become a part of the West Germanic branch and it gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "broc," meaning "small stream" (perhaps from the notion of runoff from marshy lands producing steams; thus, "brooks''), but it also means "marshy land, wetland" in parts of southern England, which is right in line with the original meaning. This later became "brook." Relatives in the other West Germanic languages: German has "Bruch" (marshy land with trees and bushes), Low German has "Brook" (marshland, swampy ground), but there are variant forms in Low German, as Low German is not standardized, with "Bröcke" being another common form, Dutch has "broek" (marsh, swamp). Frisian is tough to research for many words, but I found "brôc" and "brouk," but I'm not certain if either word is still in use as a stand alone word.       

^ The history of the verb form "brook" is in the article at this link: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2018/06/tyrolean-style-liver-tiroler-leber.html

^^ If "brook" does go back to "mreg/mrog," this would make it a distant relative of "mark," a word from the Germanic roots of English, and to "margin," a Latin-derived word borrowed by English via French, with likely reinforcement from Latin.   

The Pussyfoot Rum Cocktail

While the recipe below is what I use, I first learned of this drink from a book I've owned for many years: "Trader Vic's Bartender's Guide" (revised), Trader Vic (Victor Bergeron), Doubleday and Company, Garden City, NY 1972 

The word "pussyfoot" naturally developed from the notion of how a cat walks; thus, "tread softly, cautiously, stealthily." It also then developed the figurative meaning, "to speak indirectly about a difficult subject, to speak cautiously," and as such, it is similar to the expression, "to beat around the bush." I don't hear it much today, but a former boss used it a lot, and that was over ... ah, 50 weeks ago? Over 50 months ago? Okay, over 50 years ago. I'm not sure why this drink was given this name. I'm not one to like tart or outright sour drinks or foods, so if you're like me, you can sweeten this a bit with some sugar, or cut the amount of lime juice. When blended, the cream will provide a fluffy kind of topping to the cocktail.

Ingredients:

2 to 3 ounces white (light-colored) rum
2 ounces heavy cream
3 ounces pineapple juice
2 ounces fresh lime juice
2 ounces cherry juice 
1/3 cup ice (or add crushed ice after blending)
maraschino cherry and partial pineapple slice or lime slice for garnish 

Add all but garnish to blender, blend for about 30 seconds. Pour into a tall glass


With lots of crushed ice ....

 Also with crushed ice ....

With crushed ice and topped with a maraschino cherry ...

Blended with ice, slice of lime garnish ...

WORD HISTORY:
Look-The ultimate origin of this common word is unknown. It "could" be a West Germanic invention, as forms are not present throughout the Germanic languages, but rather only in the West Germanic languages, where the word has only "prospered" in English. Likewise, there are no "certain" relatives outside of Germanic, although Celtic has some possible connections. This makes sense, as the West Germanic dialects were in frequent contact with Celtic, including Gaulish and Brittonic (the Celtic dialects of Britain), and for instance, Welsh "llygad" means "eye." West Germanic had "lok(i)jan," meaning "to see, to look upon." This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "locian" (long 'o'), meaning, "to look, to gaze," and the extended meaning, "to take or pay heed (to someone or something)," and to this day we say, "look after someone or something;" that is, "give care or help to, to watch over." "Locian" then became "lokien," then "loken," before the modern form. Relatives in the West Germanic languages: German has "lugen" (once spelled "luogen"), it is still around, but of limited usage; Low German once had "loken," Dutch has "loeken," like the German form, it is still around, but not commonly used, West Frisian has "lôkje/lokje" (?). The noun form in English meaning "the act of looking" goes back to late Old English, and the noun form meaning, "the appearance of a person," as in, "He has that look about him," goes back to the late 1300s, with the plural "looks" also used for "a person's appearance," dating to the mid 1500s.    

Kenyan-Style Tomato Chutney

Kenya has been influenced by the foods and flavors of the Indian Subcontinent going well back in history, from trade and by the settlement of people from the Indian Subcontinent in Kenya. I'm calling this "Kenyan Tomato Chutney," but it is really a recipe I devised myself, but it could certainly be similar to recipes from others, including by people from the Indian Subcontinent, as there isn't really any one thing that makes this "Kenyan."

Ingredients:

1 can tomato sauce, 15 ounces 
3 green chilies (jalapeño or serrano chilies are good for this), seeded and finely chopped
1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon lemon juice
2 to 3 tablespoons finely chopped onion
1/4 cup chopped cilantro (also called coriander)
 
Add all ingredients to a bowl and mix well. Cover and refrigerate for at least an hour or two before serving. Kenyans serve a similar tomato chutney with fried potatoes. (Note: for a type of fried potato recipe common in Kenya, and heavily influenced by people from the Indian subcontinent, here is the link:  https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2020/03/kenyan-potato-bites-potato-bhajias.html  

WORD HISTORY:
Kitchen-This word is related to "cook," a word from the Germanic roots of English, but it was an ancient borrowing by Old Germanic from Latin. "Kitchen" goes back to Indo European "kwekwo," "perhaps" a variant form of "pekwo," which seems to have meant "to ripen;" the notion being to prepare inedible raw food until it is 'ripe;' that is, ready to eat. This gave Old Italic "kekewo," and this gave Latin "coquere," meaning "to cook," which gave Latin "coquus," a noun meaning, "the act or process of cooking" and thus, "a person who cooks." This gave Latin the adjective "coquinus," meaning, "about cooking or a cook." This produced "coquina," often rendered in Latin as "cocina," both meaning, "room or area for cooking." Apparently West Germanic (not Old Germanic) borrowed "cocina" as "kokina/kukina," and this gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "cycene/cicene" (kitchen), which then became "ky(t)chyn/kychene" before the modern version. Relatives in the other Germanic languages: German has "Küche," Low German has "Köök," but some areas seem to have "Köken,"^ West Frisian has "koken," Dutch has "keuken," Danish has "køkken," Norwegian has "kjøkken," Swedish has "kök." The Danish, Norwegian and Swedish forms are all from Low German, one of the West Germanic languages, along with English, German, Dutch and Frisian. As noted above, the ancestor of "kitchen" was borrowed by West Germanic, which explains to some extent why I could not find any reference to a form in Old Norse, from the North Germanic branch. Icelandic, a North Germanic language still often close in forms to Old Norse, and somewhat distant from its continental Germanic cousins, does not have a form either. This also explains the borrowings of forms of "kitchen" from Low German by Danish, Norwegian and Swedish, as all are from the North Germanic branch of the Germanic family of languages. 
 
^ Low German has no standard form and it is a series of dialects; thus, there are often various forms of words. 

Stuffed Zucchini Boats Part 2/Bacon: Gefüllte Zucchiniboote

This is another recipe for "Zucchini boats" ... In "Part One" I used smoked salmon as the key ingredient for the filling. This is the link to that recipe: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2020/02/stuffed-zucchini-boats-part-1-gefullte.html

This recipe uses cheese and bacon for the main toppings, but with a little "lemony" taste. 

Ingredients:

4 zucchini, each about 5 to 6 inches long, halved lengthwise, seeds removed
3/4 cup dry cottage cheese
2/3 cup canned milk (divided use)
1 "good" tablespoon dried thyme leaves
2 tablespoons chopped parsley
2/3 teaspoon black pepper
4 to 6 slices bacon, cut into about 1 inch pieces
3 or 4 Swiss cheese (Emmentaler) slices, halved
2 eggs
2 tablespoons lemon juice

Heat oven to 375 F. Blanch the zucchini halves in boiling water for about 90 seconds and then drain them well. In a small skillet, fry the bacon pieces until some of the fat melts and they begin to brown (you don't want the bacon to be crisp, and remember it will cook more in the oven). Remove the bacon to some paper towels to drain off the grease. Mix together the dry cottage cheese, 1/3 cup milk, thyme leaves, chopped parsley and pepper; set aside for a minute or two. Whisk or beat together the eggs and the other 1/3 cup milk and the lemon juice. Butter a baking pan lightly. Fill each "zucchini boat" with the cottage cheese mixture, then top that with a half slice of cheese and then add 3 to 5 pieces of bacon on top of the cheese. Add each zucchini boat to the buttered pan. Pour or spoon some of the egg/milk/lemon mixture over each "boat." Bake the "boats" for about 45 minutes, or until they are tender (a fork easily pierces them).  


With a side salad ....

WORD HISTORY:
Pool-English has more than one word of this spelling, and this is the one with the general meaning, "a small body of water." The more distant history of this word is shaky, and a direct Old Germanic form is uncertain; however, the West Germanic branch had "pol/pola," meaning, "a small body of water." This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "pol," essentially with the same meaning and this then became "pool," with the word denoting "a body of generally still water, standing water," rather than of flowing water. The West Germanic form "may" be from a similar Old Germanic form, as Old English also had "pyll/pull," meaning, "pool," but also, "bay, inlet," and Old Norse, from the North Germanic branch, had "pollr," meaning, "pond," but also, "bay." I have to believe these words are all connected, and that they likely share a common Old Germanic ancestor with a meaning having to do with "water collected off to itself from a main body of water." Further, Lithuanian, a Baltic language that has long had contact with Germanic languages has "bala," meaning, "swampy ground, quagmire." A change from a "b" to a "p," or vice versa, is not uncommon, and whether this connects the Germanic form to an Indo European form is possible, although a borrowing by Lithuanian is also very possible. Old English "pol" later became "pole," then "pool." Old English "pyll/pull" later became "pill" (nothing to do with 'pill,' a medication tablet), a word now confined to dialect in Britain for "an inlet of water from the sea." Other forms in the Germanic languages: German has "Pfuhl" ("puddle, pool, murky water"^), Low German Saxon "Pohl" ("pool, pond"), Dutch and West Frisian "poel" ("pool," also "basin??"). Danish "pøl" ("puddle"), Norwegian "pøl" ("sewage pool, cesspool"), Swedish "pöl" ("pool, puddle") are all borrowings from Low German from a few hundred years ago; however, seemingly with more modern influence from German, especially for Norwegian and Swedish. Icelandic has "pollur" ("puddle") from Old the Norse form "pollr."  

^ The idea of such water has also given German offshoot and figurative meanings like, "cesspool, sewage water, 'sin.' "      

Hot White Chocolate

This is so delicious and so easy to make, you may need to lock the white chocolate away in a strong box and bury it in the backyard, so you won't be making it all the time; after all, while it's absolutely delicious, it is also laden with calories. Regular readers will already know that I use evaporated (canned) milk in many recipes, and that's what I use for this white hot chocolate, but I then also add regular milk. You certainly can use all regular milk, or even 2% milk (there are also 2% versions of canned milk). Canned milk "tends" to have a slightly off white color, as compared to regular milk. Likewise, white chocolate comes in slight variations of "white," depending upon brand. If you like a little "kick" to your white hot chocolate, add some Kahlua, rum or brandy. You can heat the milk and white chocolate on your stove top, or heat it in a microwave. Both milk and white chocolate can easily stick or scorch if you use your stove, unless you use low heat, keep stirring and devote your total attention to the mixture. The amount below is my suggestion for about 4 servings of white hot chocolate. You can use mini marshmallows or the larger types, and I suggest that when you add them to the hot chocolate, use your spoon to "dunk" them into the hot chocolate and then let them float on top covered in the creamy delicious hot chocolate.        

3/4 cup chopped white chocolate
1 1/2 cups canned (evaporated milk, NOT sweetened condensed milk)
1 1/2 cups regular or 2% milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
(optional) Kahlua, rum or brandy per individual serving
marshmallows

In a microwave safe dish, add the canned milk, regular milk, vanilla extract and chopped white chocolate. Heat for about 1 1/2 to 2 minutes, then check the temperature of the milk and stir. Heat further for about 30 seconds and check the temperature and consistency again. You'll be able to tell if the chocolate is well on its way to melting. You don't want the mixture to foam over. Heat at about 10 to 15 second intervals, until you reach the temperature you like. Myself, I don't like very hot drinks or foods, so I stop at the "precise" description of "good and warm." Haha! Whisk to make sure the chocolate is melted, pour into serving cups or mugs. If desired, serve the white hot chocolate with some Kahlua, rum or brandy and some marshmallows. Don't forget to lock the white chocolate in a strong box and to bury the box in the back yard. A friend of mine liked this so much, she had 3 servings with rum, then she locked her husband in a box, buried him in the backyard and went back inside and made 3 more servings. Hahaha! I'm just joking. She didn't didn't bury him in the backyard... she locked him in the cellar.   

WORD HISTORY:
Narrow-The origin of this word is a bit uncertain, although it "seems" to go back to an Indo European form of something like "sner" or "ner," with a meaning like, "to twist, to constrict, to wind (long 'i' sound)." ^ This gave Old Germanic, or perhaps only West Germanic, "narwaz," meaning, "twisted in tightness, constricted, narrowed." This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "nearu," meaning, "not having great space, constricted;" as well as a number of figurative meanings like, "strict, severe, causing hardship." This then became "naru," then "narowe," before the modern form. Old English also had the verb "nearwian," meaning, "to make narrow or constricted, to make or to become smaller." The noun developed from the adjective as "nearewe/nearewo" (late 1100s?), but originally meant, "a hiding place," and also, "a place of confinement;" thus, "a prison," as well as, "a narrow place," and, "a danger." The verb has long meant "to lessen the distance between things," as in, "The runner in second place was able to narrow the gap with the leading runner," and also, often used with "down," and meaning, "to limit a number of things," as in, "The mother had to narrow down the invitation list for her daughter's birthday party to make it more manageable." The other Germanic languages have: German developed more figurative senses: "Narbe" (scar, "a mark left by a narrowed wound") and "Nehrung" (a narrow strip of land that juts into the sea to form a lagoon); Low German and Dutch "naar," meaning, "dismal, sad, ill," from the idea of constricted spaces being "dismal." Old Norse had forms used for geographic points with "straits;" that is, "narrows," but it's unclear if Old Norse borrowed its form from perhaps Low German, as all the West Germanic forms originally had the general meaning "narrow, constricted."  

^ Its origin might well be "sner" a possible form of the Indo European word that produced "snare," with "narrow" and its Germanic relatives being derived from a shortened West Germanic form "ner," where the "s" was not emphasized.    

English Potted Shrimps

Potted shrimps seem to have come from northwestern England, where the small shrimp commonly caught off the coast there have been used. The process of using butter to seal jars or pots of food has been around for a number of centuries, as it was a way of preserving food. As I've noted here before, Americans, and likely "some" (many?) Canadians, use the word "shrimp" as both the singular and plural; while in England and other parts of the British Isles, "shrimp" is singular and "shrimps" is plural. Since this is an English dish, I'll use "shrimps" for this article. For "potted shrimps," use small shrimp (51/60 shrimps per pound), and then cut them in half, or use the tiny size (61/70), which can be left whole.

Ingredients:

1/2 pound small shrimps (or small cooked shrimps), halved if small, left whole if tiny/extra small
2/3 pound butter*
1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon mace (or nutmeg)
1 pinch cayenne pepper (more if you like a "kick")
1/4 teaspoon finely ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon anchovy paste, or fish sauce, or shrimp sauce

In a pan or skillet, melt about half the butter over low heat. Add the lemon juice, mace or nutmeg, cayenne pepper, black pepper and anchovy paste. Mix well and let cook for about 90 seconds over low heat. Add the halved or whole shrimps and cook until pink and tender (if you use already cooked shrimp, just heat the shrimp through; don't overcook them, they get rubbery). In England they usually put the shrimps into small dishes or ramekins, but I just put them into a larger bowl. Whatever way you choose, try to have the shrimps covered with the seasoned butter before it cools. Let the shrimps cool to the point of setting up, and while that is going on, melt the remaining butter, then let it cool a bit. Pour that unseasoned butter over the seasoned shrimps and let it cool, then refrigerate to let it set. You can use it before the butter totally sets up, or you can let it set, then remove it and let it sit until it is less solid and somewhat more spreadable. Serve with warm toast or toast wedges. If you like more "heat," spoon some of the shrimps onto your toast, then sprinkle cayenne pepper to taste on top.    

* The butter "should" be unsalted, and many recipes call for "clarified" butter; that is, butter with the milk solids removed, leaving the butterfat. If you use "ghee," from the Indian subcontinent, that's it, you've got it! Now, if you don't have unsalted butter (myself, I rarely buy it), use salted butter, which is what I do. For such a sin, the English might lock you up in the Tower of London, but they probably won't keep you there long; after all, they let me out. If, however, they threaten to have you meet Prime Minister Boris Johnson, who was born in the U.S., and who has some noticeable resemblance to the current orange monster occupying the White House (I wrote this in 2019), don't be a glutton for punishment; just give in, and buy unsalted butter. 

WORD HISTORY:
Pot-This is the noun, and the less common verb, which was derived from the noun. The slang term "pot" meaning marijuana seems to be a shortening of a different word, which may or may not be related to the more common word "pot." This common word has a shaky history, and its ultimate origin is uncertain, and "may" be from a non Indo European language. Its next step doesn't get much easier, as it "may" be from Old Germanic, or there has long been speculation that West Germanic got it from Celtic. The form in the West Germanic dialects/languages, including Old English (Anglo-Saxon), was "pott," meaning, "pot, round container, jar." In English this gradually became "pot," which has carried into modern times, and the meaning narrowed to "(usually) large pan, kettle, for cooking," which also added the meaning, "container for brewing hot beverages," as well as, "container for serving hot beverages." The idea of holding bets in a container provided the meaning for "pot, the money held for card games," later expanded to include other forms of betting. The verb is rare in modern English, but it seems to have developed from the noun in the second half of the 1500s with the meaning, "drink beverages from a pot," "put food into a pot for cooking." Noun forms in the other Germanic languages: German has "Pott," a borrowing in the 1500s from Low German. Low German has that same spelling and also provided the meanings for standard German: "cooking pan," "drink container," and the slang meanings, "a ship," like English usage of "tub" for a ship; as well as the meaning "chamber pot," which then carried over into the more modern era as a slang for "toilet," a meaning also present in English, although often used as "potty" for children. As Low German is not a standard language, "Pott," as "Potte," was also used regionally in the Ruhr area of Germany for "a container for carrying coal." German also uses "Pott" for the betting pool of money, a meaning I "assume" was taken from English. Dutch has "pot" (jar, container, pot), West Frisian "pôt," which seems to be rare or antiquated ("pot, container"). The North Germanic languages of Icelandic, Danish, Norwegian, Swedish, all descend from Old Norse, which had "pottr," a borrowing from Old Saxon (the Saxon that remained in northern Germany after a portion of Saxons sailed off to Britain and helped to found England along with other Germanic cousins. Latin had "pottus," a likely borrowing from Frankish, another West Germanic dialect/language that had MUCH contact with Latin speakers, although I have seen speculation that Latin borrowed its form from Gaulish, the Celtic language/dialect of the Gauls, but "from what I can find," that would have required a much earlier borrowing by Latin than seems to be the case.