Outlander Kitchen

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

Archive for the tag “breakfast”

01 Apr 2013
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Lord John & Percy’s Man Omelette

He was acutely conscious of Percy as he worked.  Small memories of the body lingered on his mouth, in his hands, making them uncertain with steel and flint.  He felt Percy’s eyes on his back, heard the small rustlings of quilts as that lithe bare body shifted in the bed.

His mouth tasted of Percy.  Each man has his own taste; Percy tasted, very faintly, of mushrooms — wood morels, he thought; truffles, perhaps.  Something rare, from deep in the earth.

The steel chimed and sparks flew, glowed brief against the char but didn’t catch.  He had tasted himself once, out of curiousity; faintly salt, bland as egg white.  Perhaps Percy would think differently?

Diana Gabaldon, Lord John and the Brotherhood of the Blade (Chapter 18 - Finally)

egg-white omelette

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Posted in The Lord John Series and tagged , , , , , , , ,
27 Feb 2013
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Irish Soda Bread & Buttered Eggs from The Scottish Prisoner

He’d done what planning was possible.  Once the strategy and tactics of a battle were decided, you put it out of your mind until you came to the field and saw what was what.  Trying to fight a battle in your head was pointless and did nothing but fret the nerves and exhaust the energies.

He’d had a hearty breakfast of black pudding and buttered eggs with toasted soda bread, washed down with Mr. Beckett’s very good beer.  Thus internally fortified, and dressed in a county gentleman’s good wool suit – complete with gaiters to save is lisle stocking from the mud – and with several documents carefully stowed in separate pockets, he was armed and ready.

Qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum illuc, unde negant redire quemquam

Now he goes along the dark road, thither whence they say no man returns.

Diana Gabaldon, The Scottish Prisoner (Chapter 22 – Glastuig)

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

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Posted in The Lord John Series and tagged , , , , , , ,
24 Sep 2012
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Scotch Eggs from An Echo in the Bone

I put down my cup and stared at him.

“You don’t mean you aren’t planning to go ho-to go back to the Ridge?”  I had a sudden empty feeling in the pit of my stomach, remembering our plans for the New House, the smell of balsam fir, and the quiet of the mountains.  Did he really mean to move to Boston or Philadelphia?

“No,” he said, surprised.  “Of course we shall go back there.  But if I mean to be in the printing trade, Sassenach, we shall need to be in a city for a time, no?  Only ’til the war is over,” he said, encouraging.

“Oh,” I said in a small voice.  “Yes. Of course.” I drank tea, not tasting it.  How could I have been so stupid?  I had never once thought that, of course, a printing press would be pointless on Fraser’s Ridge.  In part, I supposed, I simply hadn’t really believed he would get his press back, let alone thought ahead to the logical conclusion if he did.

But now he had his Bonnie back, and the future had suddenly acquired a disagreeable solidity.  Not that cities didn’t have considerable advantages, I told myself stoutly.  I could finally acquire a decent set of medical instruments, replenish my medicines — why, I could even make penicillin and ether again!  With a little better appetite, I took a Scotch egg.

Diana Gabaldon, An Echo in the Bone (Chapter 74 – Twenty-Twenty)

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Posted in An Echo in the Bone and tagged , , , , , , , ,
25 Apr 2012
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Jamie’s Grilled Cheese from The Scottish Prisoner

Breakfast was even more cursory than supper had been, though Jamie toasted two pieces of bread with cheese between, so that the cheese melted, something Grey hadn’t seen before but thought very tasty.  Quinn mounted up without comment afterward and headed back to the road.

Grey sat on a moss-covered rock, watching until the Irishman had got well away, then swiveled back to face Fraser, who was tidily rolling up a pair of stocking into a ball.

“I woke up last night,” he said without preamble.

Fraser stuffed the stocking into his portmanteau and reached for the heel of bread, which followed the stockings.

“Did you,” he said, not looking up.

“Yes.  One question – does Mr. Quinn know the nature of our business with Siverly?”

Fraswer hesitated a moment before answering.

“Probably not.”  He looked up, eyes a startlingly deep blue.  “If he does, he didna hear it from me.”

Diana Gabaldon, The Scottish Prisoner (Chapter 16 – Tower House)

grilled-cheese

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Posted in The Lord John Series and tagged , , , , , ,
29 Mar 2012
22 Comments

Jem’s Mickey Mouse Pancakes

“Won’t I — won’t I see Mama again?”  Jemmy’s eyes were huge, and he couldn’t keep from looking at the stone.

“I don’t know,” Roger said, and I could see the tears he was fighting himself, and hear them in his thickened voice.  He didn’t know whether he would ever see Brianna again himself, or baby Mandy.  Probably…probably not.”

Jamie looked down at Jem, who was clinging to his hand, looking back and forth between father and grandfather, confusion, fright, and longing in his face.

“If one day, a bhailach,”Jamie said conversationally, “ye should meet a verra large mouse named Michael — ye’ll tell him your grandsire sends his regards.”  He opened his hand, then letting go, and nodded toward Roger.

Jem stood staring for a moment, then dug in his feet and sprinted toward Roger, sand spurting from under his shoes.  He leaped into his father’s arms, clutching him around the neck, and with a final glance backward, Roger turned and stepped behind the stone, and the inside of my head exploded in fire.

Diana Gabaldon, A Breath of Snow and Ashes (Chapter 120 – If Only For Myself)

mickey-mouse-pancake

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Posted in A Breath of Snow and Ashes, Beyond the Books and tagged , , , , , , , , ,

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