The possibility of finding a (new) definite keeper or killer recipe is what keeps me going and spending -probably too much- time on the culinary end of the net. A trait many food lovers – especially food bloggers – have in common, continuously striving to find yet another fantastic new recipe. Which also serves nicely as a handy excuse to allow one’s cookbook racks to gradually take over what you used to refer to as your apartment. But cookbooks – in many ways – can’t compete with online recipe sources and in particular with food blogs. For a couple of reasons:
We write because we love our food, which, photographed or not, will land on our plates afterwards. Usually. I dare to claim food bloggers are epicureans, so by no means would someone add hairspray to a painstakingly prepared feast, right? RIGHT? And the inexorably melting ball of ice cream showcased on the plate is real ice cream – likely to have been documented by the bloggers’ cursing about how difficult it was to capture the perfect scoop. It’s all real.
Immediate feedback. Sometimes not the recipe per se attracts the reader’s attention, but perhaps the through-the-roof positive reviews it has received. Expressed appraisal and appreciation by the readership and other food bloggers can be the golden seal of approval. It’s a good sign that a recipe truly works and has the potential to knock you of your feet.
Sometimes things have a similar or even the same name across different languages, sometimes they don’t. And then there are times where the origin of a term is more than questionable. Take the English jelly and American Jell-O/jello for instance, both stand for a gelatin dessert and are quite obviously a modification of its main ingredient, the mighty gelatin. Jelly, jello, all fine by me. But what on earth made someone come up with the name Wackelpeter (roughly translates to Jiggling Peter) in German? Should we know Peter? Who is this guy anyway? Was his anxiety over this dessert responsible for making him shiver – jiggling – and who, with an ill attempt at humor, started calling the dish after him? Ok, admittedly, a bit far fetched and the internet knows better, too: The name affix Peter dates back to the 19th century, where it was used as an affix to playfully paraphrase something. Now if Jiggling Peter doesn’t float your boat, it’s good to know that there is another official name for it. A much more poetic one, I think: Götterspeise (translates to food of the gods or ambrosia).
Food with an atypical consistency is almost always a guarantee for “Ahhs”and “Ohhhs” at home cooked dinners and these little jello glasses are a big hit with guests; provided they are not allergic to jello.
If you are a constant reader of this little weblog you may have noticed, that we not only try to provide delicious recipes and stories, but are dead keen to go about it in a visually pleasing way. However, like in real life there comes the day when your favorite boots just don’t fit you anymore – hopefully at least the female readers out there can relate to this analogy. Well, of course they still fit your feet, but your taste has moved on and you feel it’s time for a change. There you go, a new pair.
The seed was planted somewhere back in November and over the course of two months I devised several new outfits for delicious:days. Neither of the new designs made me happy, dissatisfied and frustrated I dropped the whole idea. Until one Saturday morning in early January, out of the blue, new ideas popped up and within a few hours the complete new layout was born. Well, drawn in Photoshop, not programmed I might add. Followed by a few sleepless nights of double-checking blog functionalities, upgrading WP to Ella (why not while we’re at it) and carving out a few new concepts which you may discover over the next weeks.
One new feature I would like to highlight right away: The far right section in our new header has a randomize-functionality, so chances are you’ll see something different each time you visit the blog. Among other content, this will also be home for one of our new features, “Link Love“. Simply to share with you some great new finds on the net, not exclusively but mainly food blogs.
We hope you enjoy the new look just as much as we do. Technically, the new site should run flawless (I know I’ll hate me for writing this right after I hit publish) on all major systems & browsers. Fingers crossed. If you do encounter problems with an older browser, this is a perfect time to treat yourself and get a good new one.
Hopefully this explains our recent lack of responsiveness and slight signs of content drought, let alone shortage on time for actually cooking – apologies for that. We are back in full swing now…
Nicky & Oliver
Imagine a single vegetable that people love to hate, chances are you’re thinking of beetroot. A vegetable, childhood memories (nightmares?) are made of. I can clearly see myself sitting at the table with my grand parents in a random inn in front of a daunting and bland tasting salad accompanied by too many and overly sour pickled crinkle cut beetroot. Yuck. When I think of beetroot, really all that comes to mind is vinegar. And I know for a fact, I’m not the only one. No wonder beetroot had and still has the potential to polarize people. Naturally, I critically observed their increasing appearance on German restaurant menus and couldn’t help but regard their apparently newly gained popularity with contempt and defiance. Luckily, with most menus being substantial enough to offer plenty of alternatives, I managed to safely navigate around them.
On a closer look – and with a bit of self-scrutiny – the revival of the beetroot was no longer just a fad or the obligatory trend item on a menu, people actually seemed to really like them. Just about when I was ready to give in, block out my aversion and give it another chance (beetroot light?), it all happened sooner than I anticipated it: The company I work for threw a fancy Christmas party with a set dinner and among the appetizers, who would have thought, beetroot panna cotta in its full glory. This is the beauty of set dinners, you can’t really chicken out and order your favorite dish, so you’ll accept the situation and check it off as an experiment, of course still keeping the option to complain about it afterwards – because you didn’t order it to begin with, right?! Perhaps a perverted backup plan. An unnecessary one, I might add – the beetroot dish turned into my personal highlight that evening.
