ktravula – a travelogue!

Browsing the archives for the Fun category.

Onion-Sage Stuffed Goose Recipe

As culled (or stolen) from Clarissa’s blog, by Paul C. I wonder why I didn’t think of this since a long time ago. Better late than never, right?

Before

Ingredients:

3 lbs of onions.
½ cup of butter.
½ cup of celery, chopped with leaves.
6 cups of soft breadcrumbs.
1 tablespoon of salt.
½ tablespoon of freshly ground black pepper.
1 tablespoon of dried sage.
1 teaspoon of dried savory.
½ teaspoon of dried marjoram.
¼ teaspoon of ground nutmeg.
1 goose, about 11 lb.
1 tablespoon of fresh lemon juice.
Salt and pepper.
2 chicken bouillon cubes.
Boiling water.

Directions:

Peel and cut the onions into quarters, then put them in a large saucepan, and add just enough boiling water to cover, and simmer, covered, for about 15 minutes or until just tender.
Drain, cool, and coarsely chop the onions.
In a large heavy skillet, melt the butter.
Add the chopped celery and gently sauté for about 3 minutes, stirring frequently.
After
Add half the breadcrumbs and cook gently until lightly browned, stirring frequently to combine.
Place the remaining breadcrumbs in a large mixing bowl.
Add the salt, pepper, sage, savory, marjoram and nutmeg. Toss to combine the ingredients.
Add the prepared onions and the sautéed celery and breadcrumb mixture to the bowl and toss again to combine.
Allow to cool before stuffing the goose.
Preheat your oven to 400°F (205°C) degrees.
Rub the goose inside and out with lemon juice.
Generously sprinkle the inside of the goose with salt and pepper.
Stuff the neck cavity with some of the prepared stuffing and fasten the neck skin to the body of the goose with a skewer.
Stuff the body of the goose with the remaining stuffing, skewering and lacing the end closed.
Tie the legs and the wings to the body with butcher’s twine.
Prick the skin of the goose all over, to let the fat escape while roasting.
Place the goose, breast side, down on the rack of a large roasting pan.
Add the chicken bouillon cubes to the two cups boiling water and stir until dissolved, then pour the mixture over the goose.
Roast for 60 minutes, uncovered.
Pour off half the drippings and discard.
Turn the goose over and pour two cups of boiling water over the bird.
Continue roasting for another 60 minutes.
Pour off the drippings from the pan, again.
Prick the skin of the goose all over and continue roasting for about 90 minutes more, or until tender.
To serve, place the goose on a large platter; remove the twine and skewers to carve.

_________________

Pictures from:

http://farm1.static.flickr.com/35/92769658_1f6fab7580.jpg

http://www.ifood.tv/recipe/roasted_turkey_stuffed_with_sage_and_onion

Tattoos

I walked into a body art session in my department on Friday and this was what I witnessed: the process of making temporary tattoos called the henna.

As opposed to permanent tattoos found now on bodies of very many Americans following the hip-hop trend of today, the designs here made from henna – the dye from a particular flowering plant – lasts for a couple of days, maybe even weeks, before going off by itself after constant washing. One thing for sure is that it looks beautiful, especially when well designed like these ones. And it didn’t take long to make.

The artist was none other than Catherine, the Indian Graduate Assistant, and friend, who works at the Foreign Language computer lab. Wouldn’t you want to get something as beautiful as this? I did get her to write my name on my left arm, but it didn’t turn out as beautiful as these, maybe because I didn’t have a fair skin.

Laugh in Nigerian English

I found these on YouTube today

Laugh with me, and watch some of the other skits by this British comedian.

Apparently, Nigerian traffic wardens in Britain speak in unnecessarily grand English while at work.

Abayomi and I

In this guest post, children’s story writer Ayodele Olofintuade writes a autobiographical account of growing up with her brother in Nigeria. It’s reproduced her as cross posted on her blog totallyhawaya-haywire.blogspot.com.

_____________________________________

… At five years old

“What’s the west of the stowy?” He asked staring at the pictures in the comic book

“The oko baba dudu first!” I said making a grab for the sweet.

He clutched it tighter, “Who is that man standing behind Spiderman?” He pointed at the comic.

“Oh he’s just there.” I said dismissively. “You promised to give me the sweet if I read the comic to you.” I said eyeing the oko baba dudu anxiously. In spite of the fact that I am three years older than Yomi he’s always one step ahead of me.

“What is this man doing there?” he repeated holding up the comic.

“How will I know? There is no balloon coming out of his mouth.” Then it dawned on me that Abayomi has no intention of giving me the sweet, so I made a grab for it . Abayomi gave the loud screech that always fetched our mother from wherever she was … I snapped my fingers at him. “I will show you! Mcheew!!” I know when to run …

“Wale! Biodun!!” he called his friends. “I have finished weading the comic. But you have to give me one oko baba dudu each before I tell you the stowy … is it me that said you should not know how to wead like me? … This is spiderman and the other one is emm… emm, …superfly…!”

***

… And then he turned eleven

“But why is your cousin not talking now?” Jide said, eyeing my ‘cousin’ who is dressed up in a black mini skirt with a pair of very high heels and a big afro wig.

“I told you she’s mute, she can hear you but she cannot talk.” I said smiling at my ‘cousin’ as she applied … no smeared… more lipstick on already blood red lips and added powder to a ghostly face.

“But that your cousin looks like Yomi.” Jide said staring at the huge boobs straining at the tee-shirt.

“Wo Jide, I’m tired of this jare, do you want a girlfriend or not? She will allow you touch one of her breasts, just pay up.” I held out my hand for the twenty naira. Jide reluctantly handed over his life savings to me, his eyes still glued to my ‘cousin’s’ balloons… “Are you sure she will let me touch th…the…them?”

“You can take your 20 naira back if you don’t trust me.” I watched with disgust as Jide started squeezing one of the big pimples on his face … no wonder he doesn’t have a girlfriend.

“Where is Yomi?” He asked as he dipped a finger inside one of his nostrils.

“He’s in Lagos.” I said haughtily. “Come back around 8.30pm, my cousin will wait by that door.”

“It will be too dark.” He whined

“You did not say you want to see a breast you just want to feel it, so you don’t need light. You have to leave now, mummy is back.” I said pushing him through the door.

“Good afternoon ma. Bye-bye.” Jide said as he ran off.

“Abayomi what are you doing in my shoes … my wig and my make-up?” Yomi stood up from the chair and nearly fell off the heels he was wearing.

“Get that muck off your face. Go and change. What’s that on your chest? The balloons I bought for Oba’s birthday abi? Don’t worry; I’ll get to the bottom of this later. I hope you’re done packing because the taxi that will take us to Lagos is waiting outside…”

***

… Yomi at 34

What fun we had in those days didn’t we?

_____________________________________

Ayo is the author of a forthcoming socially-conscious children’s storybook titled Eno’s Story scheduled to be published by Cassava Republic.

A Tribute to Friendship & A Great Session

Chris and I seem to have come a long way. We met after one of my first classes in the Fall semester, and even the first chance meeting was auspicious from the start. He has inquired how and where I had learnt to speak in English. Now, only a few weeks to my departure, I look at him and wonder how much fun we’ve had and how much I’ll miss the good times we shared from Missouri to Illinois, meeting different kinds of people from different parts of the world. What I’d miss the most are our weekly rendezvous as Starbucks sometimes in company of a few new friends, and sometimes alone, sharing wonders of the world. He’s an uncommon American – not that I have known many Americans on a personal level – but because he has an open-minded approach to the world. Could it be because he’s widely travelled, to Europe and to Mexico, or because being a descendant of immigrant German and Irish settlers, he already appreciates the benefits of diversity? I should marry him, and then both of us would be Nigerians and Americans at the same time :D.

At today’s last class which ends my teaching this semester, and – oh, this session too, there was a singing presentation that was attended by the journalists from the Alestle campus newspaper who asked me almost all questions under the sun. The song the students sang were Ise Agbe N’Ise Ile Wa, Ki Loo Le Se Olurun Mi, Osuba Re Ree O and one more which was a total surprise to me – an American remix of the Ise Agbe song. They had learnt and rehearsed the songs with the help of a student tutor who is a Yoruba student of a different department, and today, I was listening to the songs for the first time from my students, much impressed. I’ve got their permission to put it on YouTube and I will do so in a few hours.

What was emotional for me was reading their perception of the class in a final paper, and how it fit or surpassed their expectation for the semester when they signed up for it. Like it happened last semester, most of them had signed up for the class without a knowledge of what awaited them on the other side. What made them wait till the end, they said, was that their interest was sustained, and for that I’m happy. I hope the next professor of the subject is as lucky as me to have so many fun students as I did, and to have a great one year learning and sharing different experiences of the American life.

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