Winner takes (almost) all

I'm going to need a moment to catch my breath over here- my entry won the Finnish food blogger's monthly food challenge. With first ever attempt! PHEEW.

A huge thank you for all the fellow participants and the voters. The racae was tough- in the end the victory was secured with just one vote. Now I know how Kimi Räikkönen feels!

Other contestants were such an accomplished bunch that I'm feeling rather humble. I highly recommend you check out their entries as well.

The first runner up, Chef Jones' smoked chilli and raspberry jam seduces with its picture alone. And pork and peanut curry by Kulinaarimurut can only be sublime, right? Yaelian's lentil stew on the other hand re-ignited my love of Ethiopian food - last time I had proper Ethiopian was in fact in Israel.

My head is fuming trying to come up with an appropriate challenge for February. Am I going to go for a colour scheme? Atmosphere? Gastronomical geography? Or a single ingredient? That all will be revealed soon- stay tuned!

Berenjena Frita con Miel de Cana - Andalusian aubergines

The tapas selection in Andalusia (like everywhere else in Spain) is vast and varied. But what's particularly typical for the Andalusian treats is frying them in generous quantities of oil. And that we like.

People here are not quite as snobbish about the regional produce as they are in, say, Italy, but especially the regions of Cordoba, Sevilla and Granada are famous for their olive oil, in which the foods are fried. In our kitchen we, out of those hard-dying old habits usually use more neutral flavoured oils such as sunflower oil. Which one can, conveniently enough, lug back home in 5 litre canisters. I don't think I want to know what's going on in out arteries. And how long for...

Though they do say that he secret is making sure that the oil is hot. That way the food fried in it crisps without actually absorbing much oil. I still think "they" do not have a degree in cardiovascular diseases.

Another typical thing for the fried foods around here is drenching them in just flour instead of the whole four-egg wash- bread crumb- palaver. The method is known as a la andaluza. This produces delightfully crisp baby squid, fish... and aubergine.

Today the test kitchen attempted to recreate one of The Gentleman's favourites: Berenjena Frita con Miel de Cana, that Andalusian specialty mentioned in la Cala de Mijas post. This is the easiest and cheapest tapa there is. Here they are served with the dark and toasty local sugar cane honey or molasses, but feel free to use any honey you've got. Dark syrup or even maple syrup (or a mixture of that and honey) would probably make the best substitute.

Though frying brings out the natural sweetness in the aubergines so these babies are actually pretty damn tasty on their own too!

Serves 2

1 medium-sized aubergine (appr. 300 gr)
salt
appr. 3 dl all-purpose flour
appr. 1 l oil for frying
honey or syrup for serving

Slice the aubergine to 1/3 cm thick slices. If you want sticks, cut thicker slices of approximately 1 cm thick. Place them on a baking sheet and sprinkle liberally with salt. Let them sweat for half an hour. Then turn over, sprinkle salt on the other side and leave to sweat for another half an hour.

Heat the oil in a pan. Wipe the liquid that's been coming out of the aubergines with kitchen towel so that the slices are dry. Cut the bigger slices in half. If making sticks, cut he slices to 1 cm slices.

Drench the slices in flour, one batch at a time. Shake off excess flour and drop into the oil. Don't overcrowd the pan so that the oil stays hot and the pieces get crisp. Fry for a couple of minutes until crisp and golden brown. Lift out of the oil with slotted spoon and let the oil drip out of the spoon back into the pan. 

Drain the slices on kitchen towel. Place them apart from each other so they remain crisp while you fry the remaining batches.

Serve with honey or syrup.

Tunisia's winest

At least back in 2011 Tunisia was a bit of a disappointment for a foodie. There are restaurants, but majority of them are disappointing in regard to the quality of the customer service, food... or both.

I was, however, explained that Tunisians don't really eat out and that for Ahmed Average the prices of the so called quality establishments are well and truly beyond his reach. 

For someone so used to the extortionate pricing back home this came as a bit of a culture shock - even including tips (increasingly wide-spread custom, recommended level stands around 10%) and wines the price of a 3-course meal for 2 was wayyyy under 100€.

But I kept looking, when ever there weren't riots on the streets or when the tear gas situation and/or curfews allowed leaving the flat in the first place with or when I wasn't greeted by protesters shot to death at my doorstep.

And we did discover a couple of gems- more on these in Around the world- section.  One thing worth remembering is that while medinas (the old town) are wonderful and worth exploring, restaurants located there rarely serve any alcohol.

However, Tunisia did teach me to drink and even appreciate rosé wine, something I'd long  ignored as the dysfunctional freak member of the wine family and I've been looking the world through rosé- tinted glass ever since. Already the kosher rosé available at Mamie Lily, a kosher restaurant in La Goulette in Tunis was good. But what really blew my mind was a trip to Kurubis- vinyard in Korba, near Nabeul. 

Mon Dieu! Sacre Bleu! The wine produced there is easily the best in Tunisia. A large portion goes for export, so at the Duty Free paradises of the biggest airports one might actually find some. 

The proprietors are so passionate about the quality of their wine that they only allow the very best restaurants in Tunisia to serve it and even then only after a careful inspection into the storage and serving conditions. 

Dessert wine is a another taste yet for me to acquire, but S de Kurubis is surely what they serve in Heaven as well. And we all know that over there the Happy Hour goes on for all eternity...

Craving for cannolis

Some years ago I was working in Tunisia. There we fell in love with an Italian restaurant which won me over with its lobster tank. And the free Champagne Luigi had sent over to our table. And with its cannolis- flown fresh each morning from Sicily...

Looking at the somewhat eccentric clientele we weren't always quite sure if these dessert delicacies were the only thing being imported from Italy... and sure, there's always a chance the talk about flying cannolis over was just, well, talk. But I'm not sure I even care- they were that good.

I'd happily go back to Tunisia for that restaurant, Aux Bon Vieux Temps ,alone. But due to the global recession I'm forced to medicate that longing with homespun methods. So, I made cannolis out of those oat cookies.

They can be moulded into tube-like shape when they are still warm and pliable coming out of the oven. Let them cool just a little bit and lift on top of a rolling pin or another similar tool. Or you can choose the less stressful way: let the cookies cool in peace and then warm them individually in the microwave, 10 seconds full blast. Then fold the softened cookie into desired shape. A useful tip: do slip a piece of parchment paper between your palm and the hot cookie... 

Food nazi's perfectionist attempts to a precise presentation sometimes take on a tragicomical tone. The shots below required a couple of 1st degree burns, childrens' (not mine) Play Doh miniature rolling pin, pepper flavour cream cheese and 2 batches of failed cookie dough. The observers found all this a bit... extreme, bordering on obsessive. But did I find peace of mind? You bet.

Having mastered the cannoli rolling just guess what we've been having every day since? Yep- cannolis. I might never have to back to Tunisia after all...

Filling

(makes 5 cannolis) 

100 gr natural cream cheese

1 tbsp sugar

1 tsp vanilla sugar

1 tsp lemon juice

Dark chocolate shavings for sprinkling (optional)

Mix he ingredient and pipe into cannoli tubes.

Breakfast in bed

Sunday mornings are for lazying around and for delicious breakfasts, of course. And on Sundays The Gentleman gets his served in bed.

One thing where the French really are on to something is their delectable contribution to the world of breakfast dishes: French toast. Egg-soaked bread fried in butter, served with berries and a dusting of icing sugar. That is also my niece's and nephew's favourite way to start the day.

If there's one thing these 6- and 9-year-olds have learnt it is this: proper French toast is definitely not cooked in a whiff of health-conscious low-fat cooking spray substitute. Answer to "what do we need now?" comes from these chef apprentices immediately: BUTTER!

This is a delicious way to recycle stale bread otherwise going to waste (I suppose that's how the treat got its original name pain perdu, wasted bread from?) so we often use regular toast for this.

Today's coconutty version was served with blueberries. And it was yummy. I think I'll declare tomorrow Sunday as well...

Serves 4 

4 slices of toast

2 eggs

appr.4 dl milk

1 tsp vanilla sugar

1 tsp cardamom (or 1/2 tsp cinnamon)

1 heaped tbsp coconut flakes or ground coconut

1 tbsp sugar

butter for frying

Whisk the eggs and mix with milk. Add the coconut flakes or coconut meal along with sugar, vanilla sugar and cardamom (in case you're using coconut meal, you might want to add a bit more sugar).

Slice the toasts diagonally and let them soak thoroughly in the egg-mixture.

Heat the butter in a pan and fry on both sides until crisp and golden brown on the outside.

Dust with icing sugar and serve with berries.

Bread, wine and salt

Sure we try to watch our weight and go on a lighter diet and cut back on the carbs. And in the light of the wedding that is lurking somewhere in the horizon that would be called for. Soon we won't both fit in the same wedding photo. Though at the moment I don't think I'd even fit in my wedding dress (yep- the dress was bought over a year ago although the proposal itself only happened at the beginning in of this year).

But you know how it is. New home is congratulated with bread, so that there'd always be food at the table, salt so that there'd be taste and wine, so that there'd always be something to celebrate. And let's face it: that unholy trinity works.

The Gentleman planted yours truly a herb garden. Basil we finished straight away, coriander didn't survive the storm and mint took over the rest with gusto to rival a North African dictator. Rosemary on the other hand is thriving and has grown into right jungle. So, that's a herb we use a lot.  And can you think of a better use than bread? And so foccaccia is a recurring guest star at our dinner table. When ever we're not on Atkins, that is.

Occasionally we take some to our neighbour, The Man Upstairs, but apparently it won't survive there for too long either.

During those moments when I've tried to take an active interest in the bowel movement improving qualities of fiber I have attempted replacing some of the flour with wholemeal one, but the lightness of the texture really suffers. Don't get me wrong- it's still good. Just not so good that I'd try that again.

makes appr. 16 pieces

3 dl water
1/3 piece yeast
1 tsp salt
1 tbsp honey or syrup
appr. 7 dl all-purpose flour
1/2 dl olive oil
2 tsp sea salt
5 tsp fresh rosemary, chopped
6 cherry tomatos
6 pickled pearl onions (or black, pitted olives)

Dissolve the yeast in warm water (+37). Add honey/ syrup and let rest for appr. 5 minutes until it starts bubbling a bit. Add 1 dl of flour and mix. Then add 1 tsp salt, 3 tsp rosemary and the remaining flour. Finally work a tbsp of oil into the mixture.

Cover and let double in size in a warm, draft-free place.

Line a baking tray or a rectangular tray (appr. 25 cm x 35 cm) with baking powder, roll out the dough and place in the tray. Let rise again.

Cut the tomatos in half and press them into the dough alternating with the onions (or olives, which ever you prefer. I use onions. The Gentleman hates them, but this way I get to finish at least those squares...) the cut side up. Sprinkle with remaining olive oil and scatter generous layer of coarse salt and the remaining rosemary on top.

Bake in 225° for 15-20 minutes, until golden brown. Let cool, preferably on rack so the crust stays crisp.

I'd like to thank the Academy

The blog just received this award from Trio MiuMau- without a doubt for its services to the society and moral in general.

We thank you.

January's food challenge: chilli

In spite of my short career in blogging I have already been drawn into the vortex that is the Finnish food bloggers' monthly food challenge. This month the theme was chilli and our (very late-minute) entry is coconut prawns with mango-chillisauce. 

You can cast your vote for us (or for others. Or for us) here.

The deadline is January 30th. So, no rush. As long as you go vote immediately...

Arts and crafts in Fuengirola

My sister's kids can, at best, be rather a charming pair. But they're not ready to be taken out in public yet. They are missing the art of sugar coating. These rascals tell it like it is and quickly yank one's feet back on the ground- should one ever start getting ideas of herself or the excellence of her skills, be it arts and crafts, cooking or sense of humour.

And lest I get all big-headed about my own handiness, I'll share with you a couple of pictures from Fuengirola over the festive period.  Someone really pushed the boat out with these figurines- carved out of sand. 

Puts my childhood's attempts at sand castles to serious shame...

We never could quite decipher the purpose of the plastic pints. Though I suppose the sand donkey needs its tipple too...?

(There's something sinister about that angel figure. Is it just me or does it look like Paul O'Grady...?)

Sandy sucklings.

Prawns, prawns, Asian prawns

King prawns are cheap here. And I mean way cheap.  The size that back home sets me back a good 40 euros a kilo just went down to less than 7 euros at our local supermercado (their fish counter kicks ass!)

So, every time I pop in I end up walking away with, like, a kilo and a half of those big boys. You know, "just in case". And by big I mean big. The taste is just so much better and the texture so much meatier that I don't even consider the scrawny caterpillars available in Finland fit for human consumption. 

I buy mine whole and uncooked. The process of shelling and preparing them from the scratch just fills me with such meditative merriness ("Zen and the art of veining"- coming to W.H.Smith near you...). And we don't like to waste anything, so especially if I'm making a bigger batch, I make quick seafood stock from the shells. One of its many uses is a slightly pimped version of the classic English fish pie that the Gentleman loves (more on this in the blogs to follow!).

And prawns, like fish in general, is true fast food. It's quick, good, light, easy and all that jazz.

And since we always have a couple of kilos of those fishy fellas lurking in the freezer, I'm always on the lookout for new ways to make the most of them. Last time the inspiration came from somewhere in the Pan-Asian region. The result was coconut prawns with mango-chilli dip. And man, it was good. The amount of chilli has been toned down a bit for the recipe below- I dare to assume purple is not Gentleman's natural skin colour...

The dip was originally developed as a a sauce to cook chicken in (this too, soon to follow), but it was so good I just had to have some more of it.

serves 4 (or 1 greedy girl such as me...)

24 king prawns, peeled and shelled
2 egg whites
3 dl coconut flakes

Sauce:

1 generous tsp grated ginger
1 generous tsp chopped garlic
1 generous tsp chopped chillis
grated zest and juice of 1 lime
1/2 tsp curry powder
1 generous tsp tomato paste
3/4 dl chicken stock
1 mango, pureed
appr. half a can of coconut milk
a dash of soy sauce
a handful of chopped spring onions
a handful of chopped coriander leaves

Oil for frying

Lightly whisk the egg whites, but not to a point of foaming. Dip the prawns in the mixture and then thoroughly coat them in coconut flakes. This can be done in advance- just keep the prawns in the fridge until ready to fry.

In the meanwhile make the sauce:

Heat some oil in the pan. Add garlic, chilli and ginger. Let them sweat a bit and add curry powder, then zest and juice of a lime and the spring onions. Next add the tomato pure, soy, chicken stock and the mango puree. Let the ingredient boil together for a bit and add the coconut milk. Cook for about 10 minutes. Even if the consistency seems a bit runny, it will set as it cools. Once the consistency is ok, check the taste and remove from the heat. Add the chopped coriander. Let it cool and serve with the fried prawns. 

Heat appr. 1 litre of oil in a pan. Once it's hot, fry the prawns in batches of 4-5 prawns for a few minutes until they get a bit of colour. Lift from the oil with slotted spoon and drain on kitchen towel.

Way to a man's heart

Needless to say - when he finally did get home from his epic trip to England, the Gentleman wasn't a happy man. Noooo. And since the way to an angry man's heart ,too, goes through his stomach, I whipped up a batch of orangey cardamom and oat cookies, his favourites. 

(Sure he says he's not into sweet stuff, but these I always have to make a double dose...)

(appr.20 cookies)

75 g butter or margarine
2 dl oats
1,5 dl sugar
1 egg
1 tablespoon all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon vanilla sugar
1 teaspoon coarsely ground cardamom
grated zest of 1 orange

Melt the butter and add the oats. Stir in sugar, vanilla sugar and the egg. Mix flour, baking powder and cardamom and add into the mixture. Let it rest in the fridge until oven is hot enough (180°).

Spoon the mixture onto a baking sheet, 1 heaped teaspoon per cookie. The mixture will spread in the oven, so leave plenty of room between each dollop. Approximately 9 per baking tray is ideal.

Keep the mixture in the fridge while each batch is baking.

Bake for approximately 8 minuted, until the edges are golden brown. The cookies burn quickly, so keep an eye on them.

Once ready, remove the tray from the oven and lift the sheet from the tray to cool and crisp. Enjoy!

Let it snow, let it snow

The Gentleman was back in Old Blighty on business. The country was (once again) brought to a standstill as a result of snow. Death, taxes and snow in the winter, people... The roads were blocked, the airports closed and the flights cancelled. 


Like thousands of others he found himself stranded at the airport not knowing when and if he'd be able to leave the country.


While my English friends were complaining about the freezing weather (-2) Finland was soldiering on in -20. Going to work, getting around and making sure every flight departed on schedule. It takes a bit more than ice, snow or the Russian army to stop my countrymen!


That inspired me to pick up a pair of scissors and work on my Edvardian Schissorhandicarftmanship, in the form of snowflakes we used to make as kids. The results are around you. Seems OCD got the better of me again...

Revuelto de Esparragos y Gambas

Today we'll have that dish we had in Fuengirola: Scrambled eggs with asparagus and king prawns. Since today is (again) one of those days we're cutting back on carbs (Bad potatos! Bad pasta! Bad bread!), I've omitted the fried potatos that the other dish had. Though, that seems to be the more typical way anyway. And since I didn't use potatos, I rewarded myself by adding even more prawns. So much for self-restraint then...

Again, this is very much the kind of dish where you can pretty much throw anything you find at the bottom of the pantry. Smoked salmon would go well with the asparagus. Perhaps with a hint of saffron...? The asparagus could also be substituted with peas.

For this dish you want to use the daintier sort of asparagus. In case those are unavailable, feel free to use the normal, bigger ones, but in that case you'll have to parboil them first.

In case you want to use potatos (and why wouldn't you!) fry them first in oil and a dash of paprika powder (smoky or regular) until crisp. You can fine tune the amount of chilli based on the fieriness of the paprika you're using. One large potato is enough for 2, either cut in chunks or smallish slices of about 1/4 of an inch). 

In order to preserve the crunchiness, fold them into the scramble right before serving.

(for 2)

6 medium size eggs (or 4 XL ones)

1 handful of spring onions (or 1/2 a regular onion)

14 (raw) king prawns (if using potatos, 10 is enough) 

(1 potato, slightly bigger than average)

24 baby green asparagus (or 8 parboiled big ones)

1 teaspoon of garlic powder

1 teaspoon of chopped chillis

I handful of fresh parsley

salt, pepper

Whisk the eggs lightly in a bowl, season with salt and pepper and add the chopped spring onions.(If you use regular onions, slice them finely and add into the pan with the asparagus)

Trim the stalk ends off the asparagus (and depending on the size you're using) chop into 2 or 3. Heat some oil in a pan and add the asparagus and the garlic powder. 

Once they've softened a bit, add a knob of butter, chillis and the prawns. Season with salt and pepper.

When the prawns are cooked, remove from the heat. Add the eggs and stir the mixture all the way to the bottom. The heat of the pan will cook the eggs while preventing the scramble from drying. If using potatos, fold them in now. Add coarsely chopped parsley and serve!

Land of milk and honey

Lately the wind - especially at night -  has grown really strong. Too a point that without the reassuringly bodyguard-like presence of The Gentleman I'd be too scared to sleep. Next to the howling and wailing of the wind even his jet engine-like snoring is the lesser evil.

In Mijas Pueblo the sky remained sinister well into the day...

The Old Town of Mijas is a village that once upon a time, with its narrow cobble-stoned streets lined with white-washed houses and orange trees was picturesque personified. These days it's a popular stop for Japanese tourist buses armed with their Canons taking pictures of the generic souvenir and leather goods- stands that one finds everywhere from here to the coastal villages across the Mediterranean. Though sure, this makes a lot more convenient day trip destination than, say, Morocco, Tunisia or Egypt.

Mijas , like the rest of this region is known for the local honey (the name of a nearby village Arroyo de la Miel actually means "the river of honey"), so that's worth stocking up on. It's dark, thick, toasty, sweet, rich...simply divine!

These days Mijas is also home to the "smallest chocolate factory in the world". Mayan Monkey sell their hand-made chocolate in their little shop in the centre of the village. They also organize chocolate-making workshops that are worth checking out. The world might not have ended, but me and The Gentleman with our elbows deep in chocolate just might be a Mayan prediction about to come true...!

Their high-cocoa content chocolates are just as delicious as they sound. Our favourite is the salted nut. And chili-ginger. And coconut...

Photos: Mayan Monkey Mijas

Sand in my toes, sun in my hair

This year winter has treated us gently. A couple of years back winter was so rainy the Spanish construction skills didn't have a chance. Every single of my friends were struggling with mold and we had to redo the 3rd floor ceiling.

At its best January sun makes the temperature climb to +24. This is definitely the kind of winter I could  get used to...

Someone we know just purchased a holiday home for his family in Calahonda. We checked the area out (read: snooped around) and finished the day in the barefoot bliss that is the beach in La Cala de Mijas. 

The beach is peppered with restaurants with locations so perfect it's ridiculous. Ridiculous is also the word to describe the food on offer. It makes me mad that the proprietors simply can't be bothered. Though, neither can the clientele (made up of predominantly English tourists) who wolf down soggy pizzas and stale salads with tinned tuna.

The best choice is to shake the sand off one's feet and head towards the village. Just a couple of streets in one is greeted by small restaurants populated by locals. They're no design miracles and the service isn't often any more precise than the one at those beach-side bars, but the food more than makes up for it. It's real, unpretentious and celebrates local ingredients, especially fish and seafood.

Not many things restore one's faith in the world quite the way a bottle of chilled rosé does. And for someone so used to the overpricing of the depressingly lacklustre chain restaurants back home, the bill is astounding.  The bottle of wine along with 4-portion lunch and coffees were still way under €40. 

Tortillas de Camarones, pan cake style shrimp fritters and another Andalusian specialty, Berenjena Frita con Miel de Cana (fried aubergines served with local honey) are particularly good here. Sure, The Gentleman eats his greens like a good boy should... as long as they're deep fried or wrapped in bacon.

This is another recipe that will soon be tried and tested... you just watch this space!

Winter à la Andalusia

The light here, as is evident from the pictures, is still cold, but the sun is warm.

Off-season Costa is so very quiet. The beaches are empty. The boats are hibernating. The abandoned water slides barely remember the screams of delight so audible in the July heat.

The carousel horses on the promenade in Fuengirola, too, look lonely as they wait for the new riders to  hop onboard. 

There's something so very Parisian about carousels; reminiscent of a world gone by. Or perhaps my desperately romantic psyche has conditioned me to see wistful longing everywhere I go...?

That sinking feeling eating its way through your soul can, of course, be a sign of something else- such as hunger. So, off to the lunch it was!

The road took us to a familiar restaurant close to Fuengirola town centre, at the corner of the square in front of the Church Nuestra Señora del Rosario Coronada. Their menu comprises of both cold and hot portions, raciones,  (some with more contemporary and even Asian twist- I can recommend their duck with mandarin sauce and oxtail- wontons! ) and daily specials. Today's special was Revuelto de Esparragos con Gambas: scrambled eggs with green asparagus tossed in with fried potatos and king prawns. This would be a good way to use those Sunday lunch leftover roasties. If we ever had any... 

This I'll have to try soon!

The wine was delicious (and cheap!) These days Albariño seems to be our answer to all the problems world throws our way...!

Welcome- Bienvenido!

I admit- my attitude towards Costa del Sol has always been somewhat... lacklustre. Merely hearing the word Torremolinos makes me tremble- and not in a good way. Fuengirola, too, had in my mind established a reputation as a place where good taste (and barmaids on Corrie) goes to die.

I, on the other hand thrived on taking the road less travelled and journeyed around the Middle East; sometimes on camels, other times on illegal taxis. I went through a war, an evacuation, an occupation and a revolution. I suffered from stomach bugs, dehydration and home sickness. I got robbed, cheated and tear gassed. 

My love for that part of the world is still strong, but even stronger is my love for an English Gentleman. And the said English Gentleman happens to own a house on that very coast.

His family has had a place near Benalmadena for decades. About five years ago he purchased the villa we have today. Since then the intrepidity of my globe-trotting has gone through a significant change (menopause?) and these days I spend a lot of my time in Spain. And away from the "English breakfast all day long"- serving pubs and counterfeit Casio- dealing promenades Spain has shown me a completely different side.

Over the years I have come to appreciate this little piece of sun in a new way. Although I still tell people I'm off to Andalusia... I still don't speak Spanish and have yet to get excited about golf. That is a shame, since there are more courses here than there are plaid trousers in my closet.

Instead of consuming calories I've specialized in collecting them. I'm fully proficient in menus and love exploring small coastal villages - their tapas- bars in particular. My state of the art- kitchen stadium (courtesy of The Gentleman's arms race) also allows me to make the most of the lovely, fresh produce that Andalusia has to offer.

My love for cooking has blossomed too in a completely new way. Luckily The Gentleman has turned out to be a very grateful audience. The menswear shops in the surrounding villages share the gratitude too, seeing how The Gentleman and his ever-increasing size keeps them in business...