OK’s 1st Anniversary, Tasting the Cherry Bounce & A Giveaway

OK’s 1st Anniversary, Tasting the Cherry Bounce & A Giveaway

Can you believe it?  Outlander Kitchen turns 1 year old today!

I can believe it.  This blog is a labour of love for me, and it’s also a lot of work.  But in the past 12 months, because of OK, I’ve met – online and in-person – a whole new group of friends, many of whom I talk to everyday.  Earlier this month, I traveled to Niagara Falls to meet a dozen of the 70+ women in an online Outlander book club that I joined just after launching OK.

And then just 1 week later, I found myself getting a big ol’ hug from Diana Herself at a book signing at the Surrey International Writers’ Conference.  (More on that next week.) Read More

The Comte St. Germain’s Poison

The Comte St. Germain’s Poison

“Drink, Monsieur,” said the King.  The dark eyes were hooded once more, showing nothing.  “Or are you afraid?”

The Comte might have a number of things to his discredit, but cowardice wasn’t one of them.  His face was pale and set, but he met the King’s eyes squarely, with a slight smile.

“No, Majesty,” he said.

He took the cup from my hand and drained it, his eyes fixed on mine.  They stayed fixed, staring into my face, even as they glazed with the knowledge of death.  The White Lady may turn a man’s nature to good, or to destruction.

The Comte’s body hit the floor, writhing, and a chorus of shouts and cries rose from the hooded watchers, drowning any sound he might have made.  His heels drummed briefly, silent on the flowered carpet; his body arched, then subsided into limpness.  The snake, thoroughly disgruntled, struggled free of the disordered folds of white satin and slithered rapidly away, heading for the sanctuary of Louis’s feet.

All was pandemonium.

Diana Gabaldon, Dragonfly in Amber (Chapter 27 – An Audience with His Majesty)

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Carrot Cupcake Craigh na Dun

Carrot Cupcake Craigh na Dun

As the evening star began to glow among the black pines’ branches, I concluded that in this situation reason was of little use.  I would have to rely on something else; just what, I wasn’t sure.  I turned toward the split rock and took a step, then another, and another, and before I even knew that I had decided, I was halfway down the slope, scrabbling wildly at grass clumps, slipping and falling through the patches of granite scree.

When I reached the cottage, breathless with fear lest he had left already, I was reassured to see Donas hobbled and grazing nearby.  The horse raised his head and eyed me unpleasantly.  Walking softly, I pushed the door open.

Diana Gabaldon, Outlander (Chapter 25 – Thou Shalt Not Suffer a Witch to Live)

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Ute McGillivray’s Beer Battered Corn Fritters

Ute McGillivray’s Beer Battered Corn Fritters

“I’ll go and have a bit of a blether with him, aye?”  Roger touched her back in brief affection.  “He could maybe use a sympathetic ear.”

“That and a stiff drink?”  She nodded toward the house, where Robin McGillivray was visible through the open door, pouring what she assumed to be whisky for a select circle of friends.

“I imagine he will have manage that for himself,” Roger replied dryly.  He left her, making his way around the convivial group by the fire.  He disappeared in the dark, but then she saw the door of the cooper’s shop open, and Roger silhouetted briefly against the glow from within, his tall form blocking the light before vanishing inside.

“Wanna drink, Mama!”  Jemmy was wriggling like a tadpole, trying to get down.  She set him on the ground, and he was off like a shot, nearly upsetting a stout lady with a platter of corn fritters.

Diana Gabaldon, A Breath of Snow and Ashes, (Chapter 6 – Ambush)

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Murphy’s Beef Broth from Voyager

Murphy’s Beef Broth from Voyager

“Wot, not the broth, too?”  Murphy said.  The cook’s broad red face lowered menacingly.  “Which I’ve had folk rise from their deathbeds after a sup of that broth!”

He took the pannikin of broth from Fergus, sniffed at it critically, and thrust it under my nose.

“Here, smell that, missus.  Marrow bones, garlic, caraway seed, and a lump o pork fat to flavor, all strained careful through muslin, same as some folks bein’ poorly to their stomachs can’t abide chunks, but chunks you’ll not find there, not a one!”

The broth was in fact a clear golden brown, with an appetizing smell that made my own mouth water, despite the excellent breakfast I had made less than an hour before.  Captain Raines had a delicate stomach, and in consequence had taken some pains both in the procurement of a cook and the provisioning of the galley, to the benefit of the officers’ table.

Diana Gabaldon, Voyager (Chapter 41 – We Set Sail)

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