They say silence is golden and this rule generally applies outside the realm of blogging. I will therefore make some noise and post something now.
Two weeks ago I went camping with my girlfriend in a wonderfully nice area (in the middle of nowhere). The nearest town was a two hour walk from where we were camping, the only two alternative methods of transport being cab (expensive) or bus (irregular). That being said, we did move around quite a lot, eventually using all three modes of transport.
I have to say, that non-kosher food in restaurants is absolutely terrible. I commented to my girlfriend that I've not had any non-kosher food which is actually outstanding. This is, of course, with the exception of her parent's cooking - their food is absolutely phenomenal. I don't say this often (in fact, this will be the first time I've ever said it) but their food is better than my mother's. Flavour, texture, whatever you could want in any given dish.
Their high standard of cooking is not surprising; I believe they are food purists. This means that everything must be had in it's proper form - it's not enough to have a delicious onion soup, it must be had with Gruyère pastry and a blob of butter. Cooking steak? It is more than simply frying it for a half hour or so and proper preparation certainly doesn't include any form of easy-steak-cooking-grills. You must cook it in boiling oil for ten minutes, let it rest for another 10 minutes and only then cook it to the desired degree in a pan.
Needless to say, they don't own a microwave - or toaster for that matter. To toast bread, it must go under the grill, the old-fashioned way. They do, however, own a kettle. Perhaps they think boiling water is the same whatever the method...
I was, of course, delighted to be staying at my G's house. Along with the great company and tasty food, I was given the unique chance to cook a dish together with G. This is unheard of in my own house, my mum usually does the cooking hurriedly, but still taking ages to cook anything at all. I helped G. with the preparation and watched her carefully as she cooked, occasionally pestering her with affection as she worked. When I got home, I repeated the recipe, albeit with some changes I thought would make it better - everyone was surprised at my sudden culinary skills - I didn't only cook a meal, I cooked a great meal. My mum told me I could cook this particular meal once a week (which would give her a well-earned break) - but I've no intention to keep it to merely one dish a week. I've ordered a cook book off of Amazon, which is the same one G. bought for her father on Father's day (he loves cooking), so it's doubtless filled with good recipes. I also tasted a few recipes when I was at G's house over the weekend, as it was this cook book her dad was using to cook all those wonderful meals.
I would like G. to try some kosher food, something she's been reluctant to do as it involves being seen with me in Jewish areas. She finds it difficult to believe she won't be stoned to death if seen to be fraternising with a Jew, despite my reassurances that Jews don't do that anymore. She also thinks meeting my parents is scarier than torture and is convinced she will be shouted at, though I doubt that would be the case - if anything, I would be the sole target of my parent's hostility. After all, in typical parently-fashion, why wouldn't some shiksa like me, their son - a Jew - the question in my parent's eyes is, why would I aim so "low" and get involved with a shiksa?
Because she is, of course, absolutely amazing and I love her lots. Besides. The Jewish gene pool could do with a change of water...