By dinnertime last night the temperature had dipped to minus-14-degrees Centigrade, and the icy wind was as fierce as ever. Without doubt this would bring down trees in rural areas, and there would be a lot of people left without power as electricity lines would come down with the trees. One of a number of fairly good reasons to think twice about living in hard-to-service areas of the province.

We were comfortable, however, and grateful for it. The gas fireplace was burning brightly, and though we keep our house warmed to below 68-degrees F. (can't change a lifetime of familiarity with Fahrenheit in favour of the more recent Centigrade) it seemed fitting to sit down to a dinner of hot soup and freshly-baked bread. I had last night set aside a half-cup of pulses to soak overnight. Those varied beans/peas had bubbled for hours along with minced garlic, chopped onion and celery and tomato, with chopped zucchini and sweet potato added later in a chicken broth to provide us with the soup portion of the meal.

After breakfast I had put together a yeast dough for evening dinner rolls. Incorporating about two-thirds of a cup of grated fresh cheddar cheese with the rising yeast liquid to which I added a tablespoon of olive oil, beaten egg and half-cup milk, along with salt and flour, kneading until it was soft and pliable, I set it aside covered in the refrigerator. And then shaped it into rolls, brushed with butter and sprinkled with sesame seeds around four in the afternoon, to bake prior to dinnertime.

I had two bowls of soup to my husband's one, but he ate four rolls to my two, and with them slices of gravelux, which I declined. Finishing it all up with dollops of Greek yoghurt sprinkled liberally with sliced strawberries.