Greek Fried Feta Cheese & Honey Sauce

Greek feta cheese is often made from sheep's milk, but sometimes it is made in combination with some goat's milk. It is stored in brine, but there are also prepackaged containers of about 7ounces to about 10 ounces, also with the brine included. Greek honey, if you have access to it, "often" has a bit of a thyme flavor to it. If you like buying things online, you'll definitely find Greek honey there, at varying prices, from modest to expensive. 

It seems the basic idea for this dish originated on the Greek island of Crete, the largest of the Greek islands and one of the largest islands in the Mediterranean. The fried cheese will have a slightly crispy, crunchy crust.

 

Ingredients (about 4 servings as appetizers):

 

7 to 9 ounces Greek feta 

3 tablespoons flour

1/4 teaspoon ground pepper

2 tablespoons olive oil

1/4 cup honey

pinch of dried oregano leaves

1/2 teaspoon orange juice

1/2 teaspoon lemon juice

 

On a plate or in a shallow bowl, mix the pepper into the flour. Leave the cheese slightly damp and put it into the flour to coat the cheese; shake off any loose excess. Heat the olive oil over medium heat in a skillet, then fry the cheese for about 2 minutes per side until lightly browned (you don't want it too dark or burned) and a slightly crisp "shell" develops. Add the honey to a microwave safe cup or bowl, add the pinch of dried oregano leaves, 1/2 teaspoon orange juice and 1/2 teaspoon lemon juice; microwave for 20 seconds. Serve the just fried feta with the warm honey sauce drizzled over it. 

 

 

The whole slice of fried feta ...

 

WORD HISTORY:

Acrobat-This word is related to several words, with the first part related to "acme," a word borrowed by English from Greek, to "acne," a word borrowed from Latin, which had it from Greek. The second part is distantly related to "come," a word from the Germanic roots of English. The first part of "acrobat" goes back to Indo European "ak," which had the notion, "be pointed, be sharp." This gave transliterated Ancient Greek "akros," meaning "at the top point" (noun: "akron," "the highest point, the peak"). The second part goes back to Indo European "gwa" and its extended form "gwem," which meant "to walk, to go." The Indo European "gw" was rendered in Greek as 'b,' thus giving Greek the verb "bainein," also meaning "to walk, to tread, to step, to go." These parts gave Greek "akrobátis" (also transliterated as "akrovátis"?), which meant "rope walker, one who walks on tiptoes;" thus also, "tightrope walker." "Apparently" borrowed directly from Greek by French as "acrobate." English borrowed the word from French in the first half of the 1800s (circa 1830?). 

Summer Fruit Salad

Unless you live in the tropics, summer is the time for locally grown fresh fruits and vegetables here in the northern U.S. Here's a good fruit salad you can try. You can certainly add other fruit or subtract some of the fruit types. 

Ingredients (multiple servings):

1 cup bite size seedless watermelon chunks 

1 cup bite size cantaloupe chunks

1 cup seedless grapes (I used sweet sapphire grapes when I made the salad for this article)*

1/2 to 2/3 cup strawberries, sliced

1/2 cup blueberries

1/2 cup red pear, cored and chopped, skin on

1/4 cup fresh mint, chopped or torn into smaller pieces

1/4 cup fresh lemon or lime juice

2 to 3 tablespoons clover honey (or more, to taste)

Put all the fruit pieces into a non reactive bowl (preferably one with a lid, or cover it with plastic wrap). In a cup (I use a glass measuring cup), add the lemon or lime juice, the mint and the honey and mix well. Pour the dressing mixture over the salad and mix well to coat the fruit pieces. Remember, not only does the citrus juice flavor the salad, it helps to keep the fruit fresh longer. While not a criminal offense if you serve the salad right away, but it is best to cover it and to chill it for an hour or two first.

* Sweet sapphire grapes are dark purple seedless grapes that are oblong in shape. They are typically an inch or so in length.
 

WORD HISTORY:  

Kern/Kernel-English has more than one word "kern," neither of which is in common use. This form of "kern" here is simply a variant of "corn;" thus, it goes back to the Indo European root "ger," which had the notion, "wear down;" thus also, "to mature," which produced "gerhanom," which meant "grain;" that is, "a larger grown object 'worn down by maturity.' " This gave Old Germanic "kurnan," meaning "a small seed from a plant;" thus, "a grain or seed." (NOTE: "Some" believe there was a separate Old Germanic form "kernon," which they believe was closely related to, or perhaps even derived from, the Old Germanic ancestor of "corn.") Old Germanic also had a diminutive form, "kurnila/kurnilo" (??), and this gave Old English "cyrnel" ("a seed, a swelling or growth on or in the body"). This then became "kirnel" and "kernel." The other Germanic languages have: German has "Kern" ("seed, core, middle/center, nucleus;" for instance, the compound "Stadtkern"=core of the city, the city center), German once also had "kornel," "a small seed or grain of something;" Low German has "Karn" ("core, middle/center, stone from fruit), West Frisian "kearn" (core, middle/center), it "seems" Frisian once had "kernel," Dutch "kern" (core, nucleus, stone from fruit), Dutch also once had "cornel" ("coarse meal"), Swedish has "kärna" ("core, kernel"), Icelandic "kjarni" ("core, nucleus, kernel"), Danish "kerne" ("core, middle/center, seed"), Norwegian "kjerne" ("core, nucleus").    

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.   

Watermelon Cocktail (With Alcohol or Without)

Watermelon is a fruit that is about 90% water and with lots of vitamins and minerals, including vitamins A and C, plus lycopene, which is found in many red colored fruits and vegetables, like tomatoes. It also has a good deal of fiber. This refreshing drink is easily non alcohol or you can give it an alcohol content with some vodka, or watermelon vodka or watermelon schnapps, both available at a number of liquor outlets. If the watermelon is not all that sweet, you can add some honey or some blue agave. As you can see in the photos below, I used a large glass (with ice) for the non alcohol type, and a smaller cocktail glass (with ice) for the alcoholic cocktail. 

Ingredients (about 3 to 5 servings, depending upon glass type and amount of ice used):

2 1/2 cups seedless watermelon chunks (pieces of a size to be easily fed into your blender)
3 to 4 inch piece of cucumber, peeled and the seeds scraped out
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
(optional) 2 tablespoons honey OR 1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon blue agave
ice cubes
(optional) garnish each serving with a piece of lime 

To a blender, gradually add the watermelon and then the cucumber, then the lime juice and sweetener, if using. Blend until smooth. Add ice cubes to a glass and fill with the watermelon mixture. 


Non alcohol watermelon cocktail ....

Watermelon with watermelon vodka ...

WORD HISTORY:
Glad-This word is related to "glee" and to "glisten," both words from the Germanic roots of English. It goes back to Indo European "ghel," which had the notion "to shine, to cause or to bring light." This gave Old Germanic "gladaz," meaning, "bright, shiny, glossy;" thus also figuratively, "brightly cheerful and happy, joyous," and the further figurative meaning, "smooth, flat" (that which provides a basis to be bright, glossy and shiny). This gave Old English "glæd," meaning, "cheerful, pleasant" as an adjective, but it was also used with this same spelling as a noun (later as "gladness") meaning, "joy." "Glæd" later became "glad," but also "gled" to some (seems northern England and southern Scotland?), with "glad" eventually prevailing as standard. Relatives in the other Germanic languages: German has "glatt," meaning, "smooth," from the notion of "shiny and glossy" often coming from smooth objects; "slippery," although typically used most often about ice and not about greasy objects; and German also uses the word as English uses "smooth," in the figurative sense, "no problems;" as in, "We had a smooth trip to the beach and everything was wonderful" (one way to say this in German: "Wir hatten einen glatten Ausflug zum Strand und alles war wunderbar"); Low German is interesting, because it has "glatt," the primary meaning of which is "smooth," but I have a strong suspicion that this form has worked its way into Low German from standard German, as its comparative form is "gladder" (smoother), and Low German once had "glad" and the compound noun "gladmod," literally "glad mood;" that is, "cheerfulness;" West Frisian has "glêd," meaning, "smooth, shiny;" Dutch has "glad," meaning, "smooth, slick, slippery;" Danish has "glad," meaning, "cheerful," and it also has "glat," meaning, "smooth, slippery," but this is a borrowing from German (with likely reinforcement by Low German), Icelandic has "glaður" (=glathur), meaning, "happy, cheerful;" Norwegian has "glad," meaning "cheerful, happy;" Swedish has "glad," meaning, "happy, cheerful, merry."  

Filipino Ginger Tea: Salabat

In the Philippines a citrus fruit called a calamansi is often used in this tea. It looks much like a lime before it matures, but then it starts to look something more like a lemon or even an orange. Lemons are fine as a substitute. Brown sugar is often used as the sweetening agent, but some use honey, which I prefer in such beverages. "Salabat" is used as a remedy for colds and stomach problems, but like regular tea, it is a wonderful beverage in its own right. Remember, ginger has some "zip;" thus, it's been used for centuries as a seasoning ingredient.  

Ingredients (about 4 to 6 servings):

6 inch piece of ginger, peeled and cut into thin slices
1 medium unpeeled lemon, washed and sliced
1 quart fresh water
3 tablespoons honey (more for serving, if desired)

Put all ingredients into a saucepan (with a lid) over medium heat. Adjust heat to maintain a steady gentle simmer, cover and cook for about 8 to 10 minutes. Strain through a sieve and serve hot, with extra honey to preference. Refrigerate any remaining amount; reheat before serving (microwave or stove top).   

I put the Salabat into a clear glass for the photos ...

WORD HISTORY:
Horizon-This word is related to "aphorism" ("a statement showing principle"), a word borrowed by English from French, which had it from Latin, which had gotten it from Greek. The ultimate origin of "horizon" is unclear, but it goes back to transliterated Ancient Greek "horos," which meant, "limit, boundary," also, "the stones used to mark boundaries, and to divide land." This provided the basis of the Greek verb "horizein," meaning, "to limit, to divide, to bound." Its participle, "horizon," was used to denote something "bounded, limited;" thus, "the edge, the limit;" thus, "the horizon." Latin borrowed this as "horizon" and this passed to Latin-based Old French as "orizonte," with no "h," and perhaps initially taken into French from the Latin genitive, accusative or dative forms, all of which have "t" ("horizontis," "horizontem," "horizonti"), but this then became "orizon." This was borrowed by English around 1400 as "orizoun/orisoun" (Anglo-Norman form?). The 1600s saw the spelling changed to "horizon" in English, as the Latin spelling prevailed. By the way, "horizon" replaced the native English word "éaggemearc," literally, "eyemark"; that is, "the mark or distance seen by the eye." Our modern word "eye" was once spelled with a 'g' (or two), as its German cousin still is, "Auge."     

Greek Cheese & Honey Cheesecake: Melopita

This Greek cheesecake is called "honey pie," "μελοπιτα" (Melopita) in Greek, and it seems to have originated on the Aegean island of Sifnos, although there are other similar versions in Greece, especially on other Aegean islands, and some of the recipes use the cheese mixture as a filling for a pie crust. Instead of using one larger baking dish, I used some 5 inch pie pans when I made the Melopita for this article. Ricotta cheese is a highly suitable substitute for some of the similar Greek cheeses used to make Melopita, but which are not always easily obtained elsewhere.  

Ingredients:

1 1/2 cups ricotta cheese
1 1/2 tablespoons flour
2 eggs
1/3 cup honey
1/4 teaspoon thyme leaves
1 heaping tablespoon finely grated lemon zest
(for serving) ground cinnamon + honey

Crush the thyme leaves into fine particles. Mix together the ricotta, flour, eggs, honey, finely ground thyme leaves and lemon zest. Mix until smooth (I just use a hand mixer). Butter a baking dish, pie pan(s), or cake pan. Preheat oven to 350 F. Bake about 50 minutes or until the top is lightly browned. Allow to cool, then drizzle with some honey and sprinkle on some cinnamon.

In the top two photos, I inverted the small tart pan to remove the Melopita

In this photo, I removed the Melopita straight out of the tart pan (you can see the lightly browned top beneath the honey and cinnamon ... 

One of the Melopita still in the pie pan ...

WORD HISTORY:
Abyss (Abysm)-The ultimate origin of this word is uncertain, and it "may" not be Indo European. Transliterated Ancient Greek had "byssós," which meant, "deep area, bottom." This was then given the prefix "a," which in Greek meant "no, not, without;" thus, the transliterated noun "abyssos," meaning, "bottomless pit," which was also used adjectivally ("bottomless, boundless, unfathomable"). Latin borrowed the word as "abyssus" (bottomless pit) and English borrowed the word circa 1400, meaning "depths of the sea," but also in the context of creation, "vast chaos." Latin "abyssus" also produced "abyssimus," seemingly a superlative form meaning, "of the greatest depths," and the figurative, "utterly terrible, awful, 'abysmal' "). This passed to Old French as a noun, "abisme," meaning, "the greatest depths of the Earth," and also used to mean, "Hell." This was borrowed by English from French in the early 1300s as "abysm" meaning, "the greatest depths of Earth, bottomless pit." In common usage it was overtaken by its close relative with the spelling "abyss," but "abysm" remained around in poetry and high style writings, although it now seems to be a rarity indeed.      

My Own German Coleslaw

Cabbage is a popular part of the cuisine of the German cultural areas of Europe, and indeed for other European cultures too. Cabbage is a hearty plant, generally cheap, and that has kept it on many home menus during good times and bad. "Coleslaw" is a term English took from Dutch "koolsla" (cabbage salad), and the "cole" part is a pretty common Germanic form derived from Latin "caulis" many, many centuries ago, and that Germanic borrowing gave English "cawel," a word for cabbage and related plants, like kale (kale is simply another spelling of cawel). Before the word cabbage was borrowed from French (which had it from Latin), English had borrowed another Latin word, "brassica," which was also used for cabbage. German uses the word "Krautsalat" for "cabbage salad;" that is, "coleslaw" in English. The standard German word for cabbage is "Kohl," the close relative of English "cole," which in English was once spelled "col," and before that as, "cawel." As noted above, the "slaw" part is from Dutch, and it was a contracted form of "salad," another word of Latin derivation.
  
This is my own recipe, not completely following along the typical German line for such a cabbage salad.

Ingredients:

3 1/2 cups green cabbage, shredded or chopped
2 1/2 cups red cabbage, shredded or chopped
1/2 cup carrot, peeled and chopped
1 medium apple, cored, then chopped (I leave the peel on) 
4 or 5 slices bacon, fried, drained on paper towels, and chopped 
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
1/3 to 1/2 cup honey
(optional) 1 to 2 tablespoons sugar or more honey
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
1/2 cup sour cream
2 tablespoons regular olive oil (or sunflower seed oil)
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon pepper

Put the the green and red cabbage, the carrot, the apple and the bacon into a large bowl; mix everything by hand. In a bowl or a large cup or a blender (I use a large measuring cup), add the honey, the vinegar, the mayonnaise, the sour cream, the oil, the salt and the pepper. Whisk, blend or use a stick blender to mix everything together well until smooth. Taste to see if you prefer the dressing to be sweeter; in which case, add the sugar or more honey and mix well again. Add about half of the dressing to the cabbage mixture and begin mixing it all together (I mix it with my hands). Add the remainder of the dressing and mix it all in well (the apple pieces must be coated or they will turn brown). Taste the slaw and mix in any additional salt and/or pepper to your preference. Refrigerate the slaw for a minimum of 2 hours, by which time the main components will give off some liquid to the salad.      

WORD HISTORY:
Couth (Uncouth)-"Couth" is closely related to the verb "can" and to the adjective "cunning," both words from the Germanic roots of English. It is a little more distantly related to "know," another word from the Germanic roots of English. "Couth" goes back to Indo European "gnoh," which had the notion of "to have knowledge." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "kunnanan," with the same general meaning, and the participle/adjective form "kunþaz" (known). The Germanic verb gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "cunnan," which meant, "to know, to be able to do something (by having knowledge of), to be familiar with." The first and third person singular present form of "cunnan" was "cann." The Germanic past participle/adjective form gave Old English "cuþ" (="cuth"), which was used adjectivally and meaning, "known, famous, familiar." The participle form "cuth" then became "couthe," then "coude," then about 1500 an "l" was inserted,^ giving us the modern "could." Back to the adjective "cuþ," which became "cuth," then "couth." It's negative form was "uncuþ" (uncuth), meaning, "unknown, strange, unfriendly." This then became "uncouth," with the meaning emphasizing "behavior beyond known standards, ill mannered, crude, rough." This then influenced adjectival "couth" in its emphasized meaning to, "polite, well mannered, refined" (from the notion of "behavior by known and familiar standards"). "Couth" has fallen out of common usage, but "uncouth" is still used. There are MANY relatives in the other Germanic languages, some of which are: German has the adjective "kundig" (knowledgeable, knowing, and German once also had "kund," meaning, "known, obvious," and like its English cousin, German had "unkundi," the equivalent to "uncouth"), Low German "künnig" (knowledgeable, knowing), Dutch has the now old style "kond" (known), Icelandic "kunnur" (known), Danish "kyndig" (knowledgeable), Swedish "kunnig" (knowledgeable), Norwegian "kunnskapsrik" (knowledgeable).

^ The "l" was seemingly added to the word following the pattern of "should" and "would," although the parent words of both of these (shall and will) have "l" in the spellings. Of course, to make this even more confusing, the "l" is not pronounced in ANY of these words; at least, not in modern English.     

Farmer's Salad With Yogurt Dressing

"Farmer salads" have been often and naturally thought of as mainly having ingredients many farming households might well have on hand: cucumbers, onions, tomatoes, garlic, bell peppers and eggs. In addition though, some farming families made their own head cheese, as well as their own cheese, and these could be used to make a salad more substantial. In German areas of Europe, the homemade cheese was/is called by a variety of names, but in Hessen, it is called "Handkäse," * literally "hand cheese," because the whitish/light yellowish cheese was shaped by hand, while in the region of the Harz Mountains it is called "Harzer (Käse)," and in Austria it is often called "Quargel," a word "I believe" German derived from Slavic. In modern times head cheese and cheese (by whatever name) are more often commercially produced, but that doesn't mean that some individuals or families have abandoned making them at home. "Souse" is an American term for head cheese made with vinegar. In Britain, head cheese, with or without vinegar, is called "brawn."  
   
I "patterned" this recipe after Bavarian/Austrian salad recipes, and in Austria and Bavaria such salads are often served with rolls called "Salzstangen" or "Salzstangerl," which are rolls coated with coarse salt and (usually) caraway seeds. Certainly in the past, such a dressing for the salad would have been more likely to have been made with sour cream; again, a product readily available to farmers.   

Ingredients (5 or 6 servings):

1/2 medium red onion, chopped
1 seeded or seedless cucumber, peel on, or peeled, or partially peeled (your preference)
4 chopped Roma tomatoes (also called 'plum tomatoes'), or 20 to 25 grape tomatoes, halved
1/2 chopped red or green pepper
1/4 cup pitted black olives (Kalamata or niçoise), halved
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
Toss all ingredients together well. 

For each serving:
1 or 2 thin slices of souse, cut into small pieces
1 or 2 thin slices Emmentaler cheese (Swiss cheese),** cut or torn into small pieces
1 hard boiled egg, halved 

For the yogurt dressing:

1/2 cup plain Greek yogurt
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
2 tablespoons oil (olive, canola, vegetable or even give extra virgin olive oil a try)
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
2 teaspoons honey
1 garlic clove, minced
2 tablespoons rosemary, chopped   
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon salt

Mix all ingredients together well. If the dressing is too thick for you, add a little more oil. If you add more vinegar, you may have to consider adding more honey, but that depends upon your own taste.

* "Handkäse" ("Handkäs" is the common form in Hessen) is one of the specialty dishes of Frankfurt-am-Main in Hessen, where it is served in a dressing of cider vinegar, oil, hard apple cider, pepper, caraway seed and chopped onion, and called, "Handkäs mit Musik" (Hand Cheese with Music). It is "traditionally" accompanied with a glass of hard apple cider (in standard German called "Apfelwein," but called "Ebbelwoi" in the Hessian dialect of Frankfurt). "Handkäse" is not exclusive to Frankfurt, but rather it is common in other parts of Hessen as well. And I'm sure you're hanging by your thumbs wondering what the "with music" means. Well, there are two stories tied to the meaning, the most prominent of the two, but perhaps not originally the meaning, has to do with the onions causing intestinal gas; thus, "music," if you get my drift. This led to a little joke when people from outside of Frankfurt or Hessen would ask, "What and where is the music?" The standard answer became, "Die Musik kommt später" (The music comes later). The other story is that the oil and vinegar were kept in glass bottles for the person to pour on the desired amount of each. The bottles clinked together; thus, "music." When I've had "Handkäs mit Musik" in Frankfurt, it was always served that way, with the oil and vinegar bottles brought to the table with the onion topped hand cheese.

** In the U.S., "Swiss cheese" is the type of cheese in Switzerland and German cultural areas in Europe called "Emmentaler," after the area of its origin; the Emme River Valley (German: Emmental), near the city of Bern.

WORD HISTORY:
Shift-This word is distantly related to the verb "shed" ("to give off something, to get rid of something"), a word from the Germanic roots of English. It goes back to Indo European "skei(t)," which had the notion, "to cut, to cut off, to separate (from)." This gave Old Germanic "skiftjanan," meaning, "to put into order by separating, to arrange." This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "sciftan," meaning, "to separate, to divide up, to arrange, to place in order." This then became "schiften," then "shiften," before the modern version. The meaning, "to move from one place to another," as in, "The corporation will shift its headquarters from Dallas to Denver," came from the idea of "arranging, allotting" (but actually "rearranging, reallocating"). It also took on the meaning, "to be able to take care of oneself," as in the expression, "shift for oneself," perhaps from the idea of "to keep one's life in order?" The noun developed from the verb circa 1300 and with numerous meanings, including "a set time for work;" as in, "I work the day shift from 7 until 3," and this meaning seems to date back in time, as it is also in some other Germanic languages, and it remains as a primary noun meaning in English, along with "movement, change," as in "a shift in public opinion." Relatives in the other Germanic languages: German has the verb "schichten" (to stack, to layer), which was borrowed from Low German and the noun "Schicht" (a level, a layer, and also, a group of people doing the same general work during a given period of time, also sometimes rendered as "Schichtarbeit;" that is, "shift work"), Low German has the verb "opschichten" (to stack up, to build up; the base word was once spelled "schiften"^), West Frisian has the noun "skift" (classification, category), Dutch has the verb "schiften" (to divide or stratify), Danish has the noun "skifte" (a change over) and the verb "skifte" (to alternate, to exchange), Norwegian has the noun "skifte" (a change or turn) and the verb "skifte" (to switch or change), Icelandic has the verb "skipta" (to divide up, to switch or exchange), Swedish has the verb "skifta" (to change, to shift, to divide) and the noun "skift" (set working period).  

^ While I'm uncertain of this, when German borrowed the word from Low German, it "seems" the standard German spelling and pronunciation as "schichten" may have eventually transferred to Low German; thus, no "f" in modern Low German and modern standard German. 

Honey-Paprika Salmon

This is easy to make and it is delicious. If you give it a try, I think you'll find yourself making it again.... and again. Good served with rice or a salad, or both. 

Ingredients (4 to 6 servings):

1 1/2 to 2 pounds salmon fillets, rinsed and cut into pieces (leave the salmon pieces wet)
2 tablespoons butter
6 tablespoons honey
2 tablespoons teriyaki sauce
1 1/2 tablespoons Spanish paprika (it's smoked)
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 to 1 teaspoon ground white pepper (you can use black pepper)
1/2 to 1 teaspoon salt
cornstarch mixed with water to thicken the sauce

In a large skillet or sauce pan, melt the butter over medium heat, add the honey, the teriyaki sauce and the lemon juice, stir to mix. Do not brown the butter, so remove the pan from the heat and reduce the heat if necessary. Add the salmon pieces and mix them into the sauce to coat all of the pieces (as I've noted for other recipes, the wide surface of a skillet makes it easier to maneuver). Sprinkle on the salt, pepper and Spanish paprika, then mix in the seasonings. Cook until the salmon is cooked through. If you'd like to thicken the sauce (the juice from the salmon will also add to the liquid component), mix together a teaspoon or two of cornstarch in a couple of tablespoons of water, then carefully mix the cornstarch into the sauce a little at a time, or you can remove the salmon pieces and then thicken the sauce. Garnish with a slice or wedge of lemon for those who like a squeeze or two of lemon juice on their fish.

Honey-Paprika Salmon with a tomato and green onion salad ...

WORD HISTORY:
Canny/Uncanny-This adjective, closely related to "cunning," is derived from the verb "can" (meaning: "to be able to do, to have the knowledge to do something"). The meaning of "canny" tends toward, "shrewdly, but often warily, knowing how to do something, often, but not necessarily, in financial matters." In northern England and southern Scotland it tends to mean, "nice or pleasant." The derived form "uncanny," which means, "weird, mysterious," came from the notion of "beyond knowledge;" thus, "mysterious," and it was originally used in reference to the supernatural and magic. For the history of its close relative "cunning," here is the link: http://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2015/05/is-it-rumania-or-romania-part-6final.html

Polynesian Chicken

When I see or hear the term "Polynesian Chicken," I think of pineapple. I checked something like 25 recipes prior to writing this, and all but ONE had pineapple as one of the ingredients. I believe I'd only had "Polynesian Chicken" once or twice in my life, but it doesn't seem to be a recipe that is very commonly made today. My recollection is that when I was a kid the dish was much more common, perhaps because Hawaii had recently become a state. Hm, Hawaii and pineapple, gee who would have thunk... ah, thought it? Anyway, I was watching an episode of the 1960's comedy, "McHale's Navy," and "Polynesian Chicken" was part of the story. That made me wonder just what I knew about this dish. As I checked various recipes, I found that pineapple and pineapple juice were the ingredients that seemed to make the dish "Polynesian," although some recipes also included pieces of orange, while others used lemon peel, as well orange juice, lemon juice or lime juice. I fixed the "Polynesian Chicken" a couple of ways, as one had more vinegar and soy sauce than the recipe below, but I didn't really care for that version. I really like the version I put together below, and I will likely make it again soon.  

Ingredients:

1 pound boneless, skinless chicken, cubed (I used 1/2 pound white + 1/2 pound dark)
2 tablespoons finely chopped ginger
1 cup chopped green onion (with some green)
1 red bell pepper, seeded and chopped
1 cup pineapple juice
1/2 cup pineapple chunks
1/4 cup brown sugar (light or dark)
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup rice vinegar (or cider vinegar)
3 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons ketchup

1 tablespoon lime juice

3 tablespoons butter 

2/3 teaspoon ground white pepper (black pepper is fine too)

3 to 4 tablespoons cornstarch (depending upon desired thickness) mixed with an equal amount of water

2 tablespoons oil (canola or vegetable oil)

Heat the oil over medium heat in a large skillet. Add the ginger, the green onion and the red bell pepper. When these ingredients begin to soften (they will cook further), add the pineapple juice and let it heat. Add the chicken, the pineapple, the brown sugar, the honey, the vinegar, the soy and the ketchup; stir to mix well. Cook until the chicken is tender. Add the white pepper and the lime juice, stir to mix. Gradually add the cornstarch and water mixture, stirring constantly, and maintaining the heat level until the desired thickness is reached. Add the butter and stir until the butter is melted and mixed in. Serve with rice.

WORD HISTORY:
Ukulele-The more distant history of this word for a small guitar type of instrument is tough to track down with any certainty, but the first part of word is related to "cootie," a general slang English word for "louse." The word "cootie" was borrowed in southeastern Asia from Malay "kutu" during British involvement there,^ and during the trench warfare of World War One, and the resulting lice infestations, the word became popularized as a slang term in English. "Kutu" meant "small insect, flea." "Lele" meant "jump, leap," so the compound literally meant, "jumping flea or insect," perhaps from the notion of the fingers "jumping" from string to string? The ukulele seems to have been a Hawaiian version of a similar instrument, the machete, they'd seen and experienced from the Portuguese who brought it to Hawaii in the mid 1800s. English borrowed the word in the latter part of the 1800s. When I was a kid, ukuleles were very popular, helped along by Arthur Godfrey, an American television personality, who played the ukulele on his show. In the 1960s, along came musician Tiny Tim, and he too became famous for his ukulele play, especially his signature song, "Tiptoe Through the Tulips."       

^ "Malay" is from the overall Austronesian family of languages of southeast Asia and many Pacific islands, where "Malay" is part of the subfamily "Malayo-Polynesian." 

Oysters With Mignonette Sauce

If you like oysters, as I do, this is a tasty way to enjoy them. Super simple, and I've put a couple of ways you can modify the recipe to give you some variety.

The "Billion Oysters Project" is a science endeavor heavily involving students to try to restore the ecosystem of New York Harbor by adding one billion live oysters to the harbor by the year 2030. For more information or to help: https://billionoysterproject.org/#

Ingredients:

12 freshly shucked oysters on the half shell
1/4 cup white wine vinegar
1 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper
2 tablespoons finely chopped sweet onion (or shallots)
good pinch sea salt

For a "hot" kick, add 1 teaspoon sambal oelek (hot chili paste)
For a sweetened touch, mix 1 teaspoon honey with the white wine vinegar first

Mix and chill before serving sauce with oysters on the half shell

I used shallot in my Mignonette sauce...

WORD HISTORY:
Hull-This word, related to "hell," an original English word from its Germanic roots, and distantly related to "cell" and "cellar," both of Latin derivation and borrowed by English, goes back to Indo European "kel/khel," which meant "cover." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "hallo/hullo," which meant, "covered area," and the root gave Germanic "hul/hel," meaning "cover," and this then gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "hulu," which meant, "husk, seed cover, pod cover." This then became "hul," before the modern form, "hull." The verb form, meaning, "to remove the hulls from grains, vegetables or fruit," developed from the noun in the first half of the 1400s, at first as "hullen." This "may" be the same word for "the frame of a ship," but this is uncertain, although the "pod and seed shape" of ships seems to be the connection to the word "hull." Anyway, forms still "alive" in other Germanic languages: German has "Hülse" (husk, shell, pod), "Hülle" (cover, wrapping") and the verb "hüllen" (to wrap, to cover);  Low German Saxon has "Hüls" (pod), Dutch has the verb "hullen" (to wrap, to envelop).

Homemade Honey Barbecue Sauce

This is my own recipe and the sauce is dark, with the ground cloves just adding a bit of spicy flavor. It is easy to make.  

Ingredients:

3/4 cup ketchup
2/3 cup honey (see text below)
3 teaspoons molasses (I use blackstrap, but use what you have)
1/4 cup brown sugar (light or dark)
2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
1 tablespoon seasoned salt
1 teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon paprika
1 tablespoon garlic powder
1 tablespoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon dried oregano

Combine ingredients in a saucepan over medium heat and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer for 15 minutes, whisking the sauce occasionally to keep it smooth. You may want to adjust the amount of honey, depending upon the tartness of the ketchup brand you use, so perhaps keep some of the honey in reserve until the sauce has cooked for awhile, then give it a taste, and add more, if needed, even using more than what I used to suit your own taste. I initially started with a half cup of honey, but the sauce was too tart, and I increased the amount of honey. 

A piece of chicken with honey barbecue sauce

WORD HISTORY:
Oregano-The ultimate origin of this word for the herb plant and its leaves is uncertain, although it possibly originated in Greek, as a compound of transliterated Greek "oros" (mountain) and "ganos" (brightness; thus, decorative), from the notion of the plant's (a type of marjoram) blossoms "brightening or decorating a mountainside." Anyway, Greek had "origanon," which was borrowed into Latin as "origanum," this was applied to marjoram, a part of the mint family. This form was used, seemingly sparingly, in English from about the 1300s. The Latin form also gave its Spanish offspring "orégano," and this later was used in the New World for various plants used for cooking and medicine. The Spanish word form provided a more widespread usage in the English of North America and of the Caribbean islands, which also was carried back to England in the latter part of the 1700s and, thus, altered the previous Latin form.

Homemade Honey French Dressing

When you see this in the bottled version, depending upon brand, it is usually a red or orange color, but whether they use some type of coloring agent, I don't know.   

Ingredients:

3/4 cup mayonnaise (reduced calorie is fine) 
3/4 cup honey
3 tablespoons white vinegar 
2 tablespoons canola or vegetable oil 
1 tablespoon brown mustard
1/2 cup ketchup
2 tablespoons onion powder
1 tablespoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon paprika
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon white pepper

Mix all ingredients together well; you can use a blender or a stick blender, if you'd like, but I mixed mine by hand. So if you want to give me complexes, go ahead and use a blender or a stick blender. The dressing should be covered and chilled before use.

Don't go pointing out that you can see minuscule specks of mayo, because I didn't use a blender or a stick blender, or I'll really have complexes. 

WORD HISTORY:
Powder-This word, distantly related to "pollen," and more closely related to pulverize," goes back to Indo European "pel," which had the notion of "dust, finely ground matter." This gave Latin "pulvis," meaning, "dust," then also, "powder." This then gave Old French, a Latin-based language, "pouldre," which then was altered to "poudre," also meaning, "dust, powder, ashes." English borrowed the word from French in the 1200s as "poudre," before the modern version. As gunpowder became more common, the term was often applied to it simply as "powder."^

^ The expression "keep your powder dry" originally REALLY meant just that, as (gun)powder wouldn't work properly if damp or wet. The expression later became more figurative for, "don't commit any asset or assets to a situation until needed."  

You're My "Honey"

I wanted to pass along this article about honey being used as an antibiotic, especially now that standard antibiotics are losing their effectiveness. Hope you enjoy this "sweet" article.


http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22398921/?GT1=10645