To sweeten the deal, they enclosed a card saying that anyone who has never traveled with OAT before who mentions my name and customer number will get $100 per person off their first tour booking.

Be advised, OAT only books travel departures from the U.S., so if you’re reading this in Sydney, it would be kind of out of your way. But if you’re in or near the U.S., that $100 per person might be a nice bonus, encouraging you to try out this outstanding operator. (Not just tourist sites — home-hosted dinners, lectures with experts on local culture, visits to schools, cooking lessons, and lots of other opportunities to help you really get immersed in your destination.) And the groups are small — usually 16 or fewer people. So you can get into places and do things that you can’t do on a bigger tour.

Check out OAT at http://www.oattravel.com/ for more details on available trips.

And don’t forget to mention my name and customer number — Cynthia Clampitt, customer number 000637771A — to get $100 off for each person for your first trip with OAT.

Happy travels!

It’s probably because I enjoy and often write about history that I’ve ended up with a lot of friends who are also focused on history. As mentioned earlier, I have a cousin who has written about World War II in Italy. I have an old friend who is one of the world’s leading authorities on Napoleon Bonaparte, and while he doesn’t have a book out, he has published dozens of other people’s books. One acquaintance has written an excellent travel guide to American Civil War sites.

Unusual among these folks is Robert Mueller, because even though his book focuses on a specific region (France and Belgium), it does not focus on one war, but rather spans the centuries, sharing the key battles that have marked this landscape and directed its history.

Fields of War: Fifty Key Battlefields in France and Belgium is a travel guide, as well as a history book. It guides readers to the monuments and battlefields of turning points in Europe’s history, from the Hundred Years’ War (1337-1453) through World War II. The many national awards the book has won — including the Military Writers Society of America 2010 Bronze Medal in the Travel Category — are testament to its scholarship and usefulness. One can almost imagine the millions of warriors who have fought as Mueller guides the readers across the places these key battles occurred.

If you have any interest in military history, and especially if you’re planning a trip to Europe, you definitely want to buy this book. You can go straight to Amazon to order it, or you can first visit Mueller’s excellent blog, French Battlefields. If you didn’t want to travel before, you will probably want to once you’ve visited his site or read his book. Definitely recommended.

The winter has been mild, so the sage, rosemary, and thyme were still growing out in the pots on my balcony, so parsley was the only one that I needed to use dried — though using dried herbs would work splendidly, as well.

The non-quiche friend loved this. I hope you do, too.

Scarborough Pie
1 unbaked, deep-dish pastry pie shell
3 medium onions, thinly sliced
2 Tbsp. butter
1/2 tsp each, parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme, finely chopped
1/2 pound grated extra-sharp cheddar
1 Tbsp. flour
3 eggs
1 cup cream
1/2 tsp. salt
1/8 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
dash cayenne pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Sauté the onions in the butter until golden. Stir the herbs into the onions while they are still warm. Let sit.

Toss the grated cheddar with the flour.

Whisk the eggs until light. Add the cream (I used heavy cream, but you could use light), and then whisk in the salt, black pepper, and cayenne.

To assemble the pie, spread the onions over the bottom of the pie crust. Sprinkle the cheese over the onions. Then pour the egg and cream mixture over the cheese. Place in 400 degree oven.

Bake at 400 degrees for 20 minutes, then reduce heat to 325 degrees and bake for another 25 minute more, or until a knife inserted in the center comes out fairly clean (there can be a bit of oil from the melted cheese, but there shouldn’t be raw batter).

Cut into wedges and serve warm. Enjoy.

© 2012 Cynthia Clampitt

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Syndey Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 10,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 4 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

One such old stand-by was the spinach casserole below. It is a lovely dish deliciously scented with rosemary (the history of which was touched on in the previous post). I believe this was the first recipe I had that used rosemary. When I had my first apartment and lots of single friends, I would always double this recipe. Enjoy.

Spinach Casserole

1 10-oz. pkg. frozen spinach
1 cup cooked rice
1 cup shredded cheddar
2 eggs, slightly beaten
2 Tbs. melted butter
½ tsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp. salt
1/3 cup milk
2 Tbs. scallions (green onions), chopped (white part and 1 inch of the green)
1/4 tsp. rosemary

Cook and drain the spinach. Combine all ingredients, crumbling the rosemary slightly as you add it, to release the volatile oils. Place mixture in a shallow, greased casserole dish. Bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes. Serves 4.

© 2011 Cynthia Clampitt

“There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance,” says mad Ophelia in Shakespeare’s Hamlet. This was not a new thought, as the ancient Romans placed rosemary in the hands of their dead, as a remembrance. Nor is it a thought that is confined to antiquity, as Australians remember their war dead with sprigs of rosemary in their buttonholes on ANZAC Day. Interestingly, science is now finding that this is not merely a romantic fancy. A key compound in rosemary is rosmarinic acid, which is so effective in aiding memory that it is now being tested as a possible treatment for Alzheimer’s disease. So it is “for remembrance” indeed!

But that’s not all it does. Rosmarinic acid possesses antioxidant, anti-inflammatory, and antimicrobial properties, and has been used to treat peptic ulcers, arthritis, cataracts, cancer, rheumatoid arthritis, and bronchial asthma. And here you just thought it was a fragrant little herb. (And if you have ever grown it, you know that it is wildly fragrant when fresh. I have a friend in Australia who has it as a hedge around her garden, and just brushing past it is an intoxicating experience.)

My Aussie friend’s hedge thrives because South Australia possesses qualities similar to the herb’s native Mediterranean–mild winters, warm summers, and fairly arid conditions. In Mediterranean Europe, wild rosemary grew most commonly (and profusely) along the coast, and it was from this that the plant got its scientific name–Rosmarinus officinalis–from the Latin ros maris, which means “dew of the sea.” However, though it likes warmth, it grows as far north as southern England, where the Romans carried it when they invaded. In colder climes, it was “carefully and curiously kept in pots, set into the stoves and cellers, against the injuries of their cold Winters,” wrote John Gerard in his 1597 guide to herbs.

The Greeks and Romans loved rosemary for culinary reasons, though the Romans found the herb usefully medicinal as well. In the Middle Ages, rosemary was valued more as medicine–and yet it still appeared in many gardens and recipes, as anything with a strong flavor was valued at that time. In time, rosemary grew to be considered almost exclusively as a culinary herb (though it seems to be regaining its luster as a panacea in more recent days).

England has had a long-standing love affair with rosemary (especially for roasts), if not from the time of the Romans, then at the very least from the time of the Norman Conquest, when the Normans reintroduced the herb. And yet there are almost no regions of the world more closely associated with the herb than Italy and France’s Provence. In fact, in Italy, butchers often dress meat with rosemary prior to sale, or offer free rosemary with each sale.

© 2011 Cynthia Clampitt

Shortly after my book, Waltzing Australia, went live for Kindle readers, Kindle Digital Publishing asked me if I’d consider giving them exclusive rights to the book for the next 90 days. So the planned version for other ereaders is being postponed. However, there is good news for Kindle owners who are also Amazon Prime members: you can check Waltzing Australia out of the Members Lending Library for free.

Both the print version and Kindle version will still be available for sale, if you aren’t an Amazon Prime member — or if you simply prefer to own the books you read. But for anyone with Amazon Prime, you can now read Waltzing Australia for free, as one of your membership benefits.

I hope this leads to many more people sharing my adventures, and that more people will find out what a dandy travel destination Australia is.

Cockaleekie soup would traditionally be served as a soup course, with the chicken removed and served later, probably after the haggis. However, I like the more recent, semi-traditional versions that can, with the addition of salad and bread, be a whole meal. (Also, traditionally, you’d be boiling an old fighting cock with its head and feet still on—so I don’t think you’ll be too disappointed that this has been updated.)

The addition of prunes is an item of controversy–some see them as immutable tradition, others view them as pollutants. I like the vaguely wine-like undertones they give the broth. You can make your own decision. If you opt for prunes, you need to use ones that still have their pits; if the prune has been pitted, the insides dissolve and make the broth muddy. Though I add prunes while cooking, and enjoy eating them myself, I recommend leaving them in the pot if serving this dish to guests, since a pit can be an unwelcome surprise in the midst of feasting.

This is the sort of dish that will warm you when you’ve been striding through those highland mists — or raking the leaves or shoveling snow. Boil up a pot, put on a bagpipe recording, and enjoy.

Cockaleekie
1 chicken (3-1/2 to 4-1/2 lbs)
8-10 large leeks
2 14-1/2 oz. cans chicken broth
2 14-1/2 oz. cans beef broth
2-1/2 quarts water
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. fresh ground black pepper
1 tsp. dried thyme leaves
1/2 cup barley
12 whole prunes (with pits)

Wash the leeks thoroughly, checking for hidden pockets of sand. Slice the whites and 2 or 3 inches of the green stems (staying well clear of the leaves) into 1/2-inch rounds.

Wash the chicken inside and out under cold running water. Remove and discard any chunks of fat from the cavity, and place the chicken in a 10- to 12-quart pot. Pour in the broth and water and bring to a boil over high heat, skimming the foam and scum that rise to the surface. When scum stops forming, add the leeks, salt, pepper, and thyme, and reduce heat to low.

Partially cover the pot and simmer for 2 hours. Add the barley and simmer for an additional 1/2 hour. Add the prunes, and simmer for another 1/2 hour. By this time, the chicken will be almost falling apart. Transfer it to a platter (carefully). With a large spoon, skim as much fat as possible from the surface of the soup.

When the chicken is cool enough to handle, remove and discard the skin. Pull all the meat from the bones, and cut it into small pieces, then return it to the soup. Simmer for 2 or 3 minutes to heat the meat through, then taste the soup for seasoning.

This makes about 4-1/2 quarts of soup. When serving, chopped parsley is the most common garnish. This soup freezes well.

Notes: If your chicken is packed with giblets, and most are, you can (if you like them) add all giblets EXCEPT the liver, to the soup. Three different sources underscore the necessity of leaving it out. When cooked for this long, liver kind of dissolves, so it would make the soup “muddy” looking and tasting.

Also, if the prunes are moist and plump, they can go straight into the pot. If they’re dry and hard, soak them in hot water for 1/2 an hour before adding them to the soup.