Fluff: or how to bribe a small child

Living abroad can be hard. My sister Merle has two gorgeous boys - a six-year old Tomi and 2-year old Ahti, and I truly miss not being around more and seeing them grow up. Whereas I have somehow secured a fixed place in the head and heart of the older boy (regular phone calls and gifts seem to do the trick as well as going out of my way trying to find something fun to do while he was in Edinburgh), getting re-acquainted with the younger one is usually a bit trickier. He's always a little shy of me in the beginning. And I also shouldn't take Tomi's attention for granted.

So what do you do to make sure they're relaxed and happy around you when you re-appear after a six-month absence? You bribe them. A bit like in action movies, when the intruder gives a biscuit or a juicy bone to the scary dog, who then forgets all about his supposed role as a house-protecting animal and lets the intruder sneak into the house..

Couple of months ago I spotted a big glass jar of something called FLUFF in the local Mexican-and-all-other-exotic-food-product-stocking-shop Lupe Pintos in Edinburgh. It's white and sticky, and it's basically a spreadable marshmallow. It also comes in rosy pink raspberry or pink strawberry flavoured version. I am not sure why I picked it up in the first place, as I don't really like marshmallows. Marshmallow cakes were very popular back home in 1980s, and I always found them sickly sweet. And I always have my hot chocolate with cream, but without marshmallows. But in any case I picked one up and brought home.

And forgot all about it. Until late June, when my family was visiting and my nephew Tomi, who is unfortunately quite a picky eater, refused to have his usual four-cereal porridge for breakfast one morning. As were had planned lots of walking around Edinburgh for that day, we were quite keen on him eating something, so I remembered the Fluff and offered him that on toast. It was an instant hit. Well, anything sweet and sticky would be with kids, I guess, wouldn't it? And to be honest, even I liked it, though in moderation. I gave the glass jar of white stuff for my sister when they were leaving.

And I was told just a few weeks later that it was finished. So day before going home in August I bought another 6 jars (!!!) of the vanilla-flavoured stuff from Lupe Pintos (I actually had to call few days before to make sure they have so many in stock and they kindly brought some from the warehouse). This time my family and friends did not get Scottish, or even British goodies from me (apart from my friend Anu, who had specifically asked for a jar of lemon curd). They got a jar of American stuff called Fluff. And it was a smart choice. Apart from my nephews, even some of my friends' kids can now say 'tädi Pille' or auntie Pille (like Mikk Hendrik on the right:). Quite an achievement, considering they only meet me once or twice a year:)

Thank you, Fluff, for securing my place in some kids' heart!

Above photo is from AmericanSweets.co.uk and you can read much more and all about Fluff here. Although I have a suspicious feeling that every other foodblogger has known about Fluff since they were wee kids. No?

Salting cucumbers in a flash

Freshly salted cucumbers - soolakurgid - are one of the nicest late summer delicacies and I had the pleasure of eating through three (!!!) batches of these during my recent trip home. They're yummy, crunchy, just a bit too salty and very refreshing. And a doddle to make. If you have the ingredients that is. I must admit I've never come across those short cucumbers in Edinburgh - all you can find here are the long varieties, and these simply wouldn't do for this particular 'recipe' (but check out Zarah Maria's recipe for a Danish agurkesalat if you want something sour and sliced). Neither have I spotted blackcurrant leaves or overgrown dill here, though I guess a friendly farmers market stall would probably provide these if asked beforehand.

Anyway - here's what to do. You start by covering the bottom of a largish bowl with rinsed blackcurrant leaves and overgrown dill. Then you start layering the cucumbers. The cucumbers should be carefully washed beforehand, and if you want extra crunchy salted cucumbers, you could soak them in ice cold water for a couple of hours beforehand.

If you wish, you can throw in some sliced horseradish as well as garlic cloves - or garlic buds* as well. My Mum had loads of the latter in the garden just now, and I used these. The buds consist of hundreds of miniature garlic cloves, that would usually be used as seeds to grow more garlic. But they are deliciously mild and tasty like that - no need to peel or chop before throwing onto the frying pan.



When you're finished with layering, you cover it with boiled water, dissolving about a tablespoon of coarse salt and a teaspoon of sugar per one litre of hot water just before pouring over cucumbers. Cover, and keep in a warm room temperature until following day, or until cucumbers start to turn just ever so slightly sour (frequent tasting is needed:) It can take anything from 12 hours to 48 or so - depending on the room temperature etc. You want the cucumbers to taste just slightly sour and have turned a wee bit green-yellowish instead of bright green. Small bubbles on the surface of the brine are acceptable as well.

Then you move the bowl into your fridge - that reduces the speed of becoming even more sour** - and start eating. Sliced on your open sandwich (that's the only one we eat back home, although ours are not as elaborate as the Danish ones). Sliced into a summery tomato-cucumber salad. Sliced as a garnish on your dinner plate. Sliced length-wise to be nibbled at a BBQ party. Or in front of telly. The choice is endless and it's entirely yours.

* The last three months of foodblogging alone have been very educational for me. Until June I had only used plain garlic cloves. Since then I've discovered the joyous taste of garlic scapes and now garlic buds. Well, my gastrology entry did say that as a Taurean, I would be forced "to broaden [my] gastronomic world in 2005" - I guess I've done that in the world of garlic at least :)

Back in the kitchen

I've been back in Edinburgh for over a week now, but have hardly done any cooking. A Malta-based Estonian friend was visiting and as it was the last week my Greek sweetheart was in town, I had most of my meals out. Had a lovely & elegant breakfast at Centotre, a proper British fry-up at Native State, a leisurely Saturday morning breakfast and paper in Double Dutch, a Turkish meze-dinner at Nargile, another (sixth in 2005?) yummy meal at Jamaican Coyaba, a tasty, if slow, dinner at Peckham's Underground. I enjoyed them all, although I'm not really looking forward to receiving my next credit card statement at all..

The only 'cooking' I did at home during the week was smearing some Finnish herby or Estonian mushroomy cream cheese on some Estonian rye bread, covering it with Estonian smoked salami and Estonian cheese, sprinkling some Greek oregano on top and grilling these in the oven. An accompaniment: some flash-salted cucumber. And I did that not once, not twice, but thrice. But that's hardly cooking, at least in foodblogosphere..

Pasta with blue cheese
(Seene-sinihallitusjuustukaste makaronidele)

I did finally cook something on Sunday night. Before my friend Ingrid caught her flight back to Valletta, we had a quick pasta supper - gemelli pasta with Roquefort, and shiitake and oyster mushrooms. It was tasty, and it's one of my staple suppers nowadays, as I like both mushrooms and blue cheese a lot.

PS Remember the list of ten most useful cookbooks? Hopkinson's Roast Chicken and Other Stories is currently No 1 on the bestsellers' list at my local Blackwells. So if nothing else, these lists make a fortune for some of the authors:)