Well, now that you've reminded me about pickleball... :)
Orange There was a smell of cinnamon and cloves drifting across the yard. Combined with the orange and yellow of fallen leaves, and the leaden sky threatening snow, it brought images of Christmas presents and mulled wine to the minds of the women gathered in the kitchen. They were stood around a long wooden table that was mythologised to have been in Sixticton before the town was even founded. Across the surface of the table were dozens and dozens of Kilner jars, each with a bright orange rubber seal, and underneath were gallon-bottles of white and malt vinegars. "Ladies!" Emma clapped her hands, thinking momentarily to herself that managing the Sixticton Ladies Guild was a lot like her day job at WrongStart. "I think we're all here now, and there's a lot to get pickled today, so let's quickly run round and check that we all know what we're doing. Gladys and myself are making Chestnut chutney, Aubergine chutney, and pickling beets from Prada Farm." "That's the farm on the road out of town, right?" Jenn grimaced. "Why are they named for a high-end fashion brand?" "Their beets cost so much they might as well be Prada," said Amelia. "I'm pickling gherkins, tomatoes and Prada Farms mushrooms. Which cost almost as much as truffles, I kid you not." "Why do we keep buying their stuff though?" Jenn's voice was a wail. "Raspberry vinegar, Strawberry vinegar and pickled oranges. All from Prada Farms," said Beth. Emma held up a hand. "Jenn, the thing is that they produce the best stuff," she said. Then she did a double-take. "Pickled oranges?" "New recipe," said Beth. She had a pixie-like face which lit up when she grinned, and her green eyes sparkled with humour. "I was puzzled too, I mean the oranges already contain an acid, so what's the vinegar going to do? But we've got the oranges, and the vinegar, so I figured let's give it a try. We can serve it with trout, maybe?" "Maybe." Emma's face was carefully blank. "What are you doing, Jenn?" "Balls." There was a moment of silence as the ladies all nodded. Pickleballs were very important to Sixticton.
3 comments:
Well, now that you've reminded me about pickleball... :)
Orange
There was a smell of cinnamon and cloves drifting across the yard. Combined with the orange and yellow of fallen leaves, and the leaden sky threatening snow, it brought images of Christmas presents and mulled wine to the minds of the women gathered in the kitchen. They were stood around a long wooden table that was mythologised to have been in Sixticton before the town was even founded. Across the surface of the table were dozens and dozens of Kilner jars, each with a bright orange rubber seal, and underneath were gallon-bottles of white and malt vinegars.
"Ladies!" Emma clapped her hands, thinking momentarily to herself that managing the Sixticton Ladies Guild was a lot like her day job at WrongStart. "I think we're all here now, and there's a lot to get pickled today, so let's quickly run round and check that we all know what we're doing. Gladys and myself are making Chestnut chutney, Aubergine chutney, and pickling beets from Prada Farm."
"That's the farm on the road out of town, right?" Jenn grimaced. "Why are they named for a high-end fashion brand?"
"Their beets cost so much they might as well be Prada," said Amelia. "I'm pickling gherkins, tomatoes and Prada Farms mushrooms. Which cost almost as much as truffles, I kid you not."
"Why do we keep buying their stuff though?" Jenn's voice was a wail.
"Raspberry vinegar, Strawberry vinegar and pickled oranges. All from Prada Farms," said Beth.
Emma held up a hand. "Jenn, the thing is that they produce the best stuff," she said. Then she did a double-take. "Pickled oranges?"
"New recipe," said Beth. She had a pixie-like face which lit up when she grinned, and her green eyes sparkled with humour. "I was puzzled too, I mean the oranges already contain an acid, so what's the vinegar going to do? But we've got the oranges, and the vinegar, so I figured let's give it a try. We can serve it with trout, maybe?"
"Maybe." Emma's face was carefully blank. "What are you doing, Jenn?"
"Balls."
There was a moment of silence as the ladies all nodded. Pickleballs were very important to Sixticton.
Oh so sweet
Rare
And tempting
Now let's purchase a whole box
Good and lovely but oh so many. Where is the
End -- the rot has set in.
Greg - haha, you managed to make me happy that I mentioned pickleball. Consider me impressed.
Some great details in here, and I appreciate Emma making another appearance.
Morganna - yup, yup, yup. The story of every box of mandarin oranges I've ever bought. And in acrostic form! Nicely done :D
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