Outlander Kitchen

Historical and Character-Inspired Food from the fictional world of Diana Gabaldon.

Archive for the month “February, 2012”

Madame Nesle de la Tourelle’s Slippery Nipple

I dipped automatically, struggling to keep my eyes on the floor and wondering where I would look when I bobbed up again.  Madame Nesle de la Tourelle was standing just behind Louis, watching the introduction with a slightly bored look on her face.  Gossip said that “Nesle” was Louis’s current favorite.  She was, in current vogue, wearing a gown cut below both breasts, with a bit of supercedent gauze which was clearly meant for the sake of fashion, as it couldn’t possibly function for either warmth or concealment.

It was neither the gown nor the prospect it revealed that had rattled me, though.  The breasts of “Nesle,” while reasonably adequate in size, pleasant in proportion, and tipped with large brownish areolae, were further adorned with a pair of nipple jewels that caused their setting to recede into insignificance.  A pair of diamond-encrusted swans with ruby eyes stretched their necks toward each other, swinging precariously in their gold-hooped perches.  The workmanship was superb and the material stunning, but it was the fact that each gold hoop passed through her nipple that made me feel rather faint.  The nipples themselves were rather seriously inverted, but this fact was disguised by the large pearl that covered each one, dangling on a thin gold chain that looped from side to side of the main hoop.

Diana Gabaldon, Dragonfly in Amber (Chapter 9)Madame Nesle de la Tourelle's Slippery Nipple

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Crock Pot Chicken Fricassee from A Breath of Snow and Ashes

“Less EAT, Mummy!”  Jemmy piped up helpfully.  A long string of molasses-tinged saliva flowed from the corner of his mouth and dripped down the front of his shirt.  Seeing this, his mother turned on Mrs. Bug like a tiger.

“Now see what you’ve done, you interfering old busybody! That was his last clean shirt!  And how dare you talk about our private lives with everybody in sight, what possible earthly business of yours is it, you beastly old gossiping –”

Seeing the futility of protest, Roger put his arms round her from behind, picked her up bodily off the floor, and carried her out the back door, this departure accented by incoherent protests from Bree an grunts of pain from Roger, as she kicked him repeatedly in the shins, with considerable force and accuracy.

I went to the door and closed it delicately, shutting off the sounds of further altercation in the yard.

“She gets that from you, you know,” I said reproachfully, sitting down opposite Jamie.  “Mrs. Bug, that smells wonderful.  Do let’s eat!”

Mrs. Bug dished the fricassee in huffy silence, but declined to join us at table, instead putting on her cloak and stamping out the front door, leaving us to deal with the clearing-up.  An excellent bargain, if you ask me.

Diana Gabaldon, A Breath of Snow and Ashes (Chapter 21)

crockpot chicken fricassee

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Murtagh’s Gift to Ellen from Outlander

I caught a strange nonmetallic gleam in the depths of the box, and pointed.  “What’s that?”

“Oh, those,” she said, dipping into the box again.  “I’ve never worn them; they don’t suit me.  But you could wear them — you’re tall and queenly, like my mother was.  They were hers, ye ken.”

They were a pair of bracelets.  Each made from the curving, almost-circular tusk of a wild boar, polished to a deep ivory glow, the ends capped with silver tappets, etched with flowered tracery.

“Lord, they’re gorgeous!”  I’ve never seen anything so…so wonderfully barbaric.”

Jenny was amused.  “Aye, that they are.  Someone gave them to Mother as a wedding gift, but she never would say who.  My father used to tease her now and then about her admirer, but she wouldna tell him, either, just smiled like a cat that’s had cream to its supper.  Here, try them.”

The ivory was cool and heavy on my arm.  I couldn’t resist stroking the deep yellow surface, grained with age.

“Aye, they suit ye,” Jenny declared.  “And they go wi’ that yellow gown, as well.  Here are the earbobs — put these on, and we’ll go down.”

Diana Gabaldon,  Outlander (Chapter 31)

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