Another time................

Dec 11
         25 today. Wet day, also cold. Get a lot of cards. Write to J. Auntie gives me a Parker pen.
Dec 13
         Up 6-40. Thick fog all day long. Baby gives me my present - kitchen spoon, tin-opener, potato peeler and grater. Very pleased. Go to see 'Xmas Holiday'. Lousy.
Dec 14
         Still no mail. Play cards with Mum and Dad, lose 1/-
Dec 16
          Go on my bike, rattles all the way. Buy a duck for P.
Dec 17
          Dad wins big turkey. Buy cigs for Xmas presents. Everyone narky all day. Write 2 A/Ms to J, also send off gloves.*
Dec 18
         Up 7 o/c, work til 6-30. Sew stockings. Letter from J.
Dec 19
         Late. Go on my bike, take it to shop to be mended, also my shoes. Go to pics to see 'Thanks for the Memory' also 'Till We Meet Again' V.G.
Dec 21
        Get my bike, 4/-. Inpromtue concert in canteen - very good.
Dec 22
        Go to work on my bike. Everyone gets tight, not me, tho. Fine concert in canteen, also dinner. Get my cards told, Auntie not well.
Dec 23
        Take family tea + toast. Go to town, buy nothing. Have my hair set. Get 10/- off P. Give her lipstick, rouge powder + fags. Good music-hall.
Dec 24
        Go to little party at J's. Allies did not turn up. Go to midnight Mass - heaven.
Dec 25
        Got home 1-45. Have spare-ribs, also got Xmas stocking from Mum. Go to bed 3 o/c, up 10 o/c. Get two letters from J.** Pad thrilled with her pillowcase. Turkey was a beaut. Have a grand time, nuts, sweets, choc apples, grape-fruit etc. Play nap*** after dinner, lose 1/5 1/2d Go to bed 12-10. Am tired and how.
Dec 26
       Go to Rialto dance with Ginger. Play cards, go for a drink with P. and J.
Dec 28
       Heavy fog all day. Got home 8o/c after getting lost several times
Dec 31
       Fall off tram and bang my back. Feel faint and sick. Terrible cold day, go to bed 8o/c. Wonder where we will all be next year. God knows.
Jan 1
       Wake up 5 o/c, my back very painful. Go to see 'Love Story' very nice. Mum still worrying over Pop.
Jan 2
       Late. Terrible trouble over staying off. Think they will prosecute us. Get a surface letter from J also some snaps.
Jan 3
   No mail, play cards, win 2/3 1/2d nice going. Start reading 'Fanny by Gaslight'.
Jan 7
   Terrible day, snow, wind and rain. Go to bed early, terrible head all day.
Jan 8
   Terrible cold, pains in my head driving me mad. Shortage of potatoes.
Jan 12
   Got terrible cold, sneezing and blowing all day.
Jan 16
   Go to town with Mum, buy socks. Start gloves for S. Take 2 big tablets.
Warsaw free.


* Knitted by the diarist!
** Post on Christmas Day!
*** Popular card game

Essential seasonal extras.....

I know everyone is busy at this time of the year, so no apologies for brevity ....... blogging just gets shunted down the list of things to do.
These are some of the things higher up the list......
1. Christmas puddings. Do you know how many recipes for a festive pudding there are out there? Me neither, but having read a fair few my conclusion is that there is no formula. There is no apparent ratio of fruit to flour to sugar to fat to liquid - it seems a random pick-and-mix. Stout or green ginger wine? currants or apricots? butter or suet?
These are mine and they tasted good last year and I am hoping they will be good this year.

There is also a pot of scrummy brandy butter in the picture - an essential extra!

2. The Cake. It takes practise, lots of practise, to perfect a fruit cake that does not have shelf-life on its list of ingredients. Find a friend who likes eating fruit cake and if they can be objective about it, all the better.
You could become walking buddies.

3. Chocolate. Make time, make your own. It's fun!

This list is longer and I will add more, but now I must rub in some pastry.

Store cupboard specials.....

 This week was unsettled and the car refused to play, so I took refuge in the kitchen.
When the weather turns, I feel the need to stock the larder with bottled goodies. So started gently with mustard. I always use fresh herbs whenever possible and there was a lime in the fruit bowl, so made my favourite, coriander + lime.  Then spotted the box of caramelised cocoa nibs and a bag of fresh thyme drying at the back of the Aga. Consulting the Flavour Thesaurus (an inspiring and inspired gift) I found that thyme and chocolate go together. Hmm.. and herb mustard is always good. Soo....

I must say the resultant mix looks pretty weird, so will leave it to mature a week or so.
There was another aroma in the kitchen, a bag of quince donated by a bemused customer who had no idea what to do with this bounty.

Washed, chopped, just covered with water and cooked gently until soft, then pushed through a sieve to remove the unnecessary, the resulting pulp was measured in to a preserving pan with the required amount of sugar. After cooking the mix for about 40 mins (when it turns from yellow/green to pink) I poured most in to warm, sterilised jars and the rest in to lightly oiled silicone moulds - nothing specialised, just a loaf mould and an ice stick maker (like cubes, only oblongs!).
To my surprise, the shaped jellies turn out well, so cut in to cubes (kind of) and dipped in to dark chocolate. Looked good. Tasted .... well, more than good. Rich chocolate, sharp quince, what a combination! Will definitely be making more of these (well, have to, as they have all gone).
There was also a bag of sweet chestnuts, bought on a whim, to augment some found serendipitously in a lonely car park. A pig to peel, but now bottled in syrup with a vanilla pod.
Now for a well-earned mug of coffee. There is a bargain kilo bag of coffee beans in the cupboard and I am sure there is a grinder contraption which fits the food processor, somewhere ............ ah, yes, umm, the sort of thing that would also be excellent for grinding mustard seeds....
I will try most things and coffee-flavoured mustard would be interesting, but are my taste buds ready for mustard-flavoured coffee?

Mellow tints and fruitfulness

They say this is a mast year, a relatively rare expression of Nature in a panic. The weather has been so unpredictable, unseasonal and extreme that the vegetation is doing as much as possible to ensure the survival of species, all species.
So we see all the different fungi, dealing with the casualties of this perverseness.

 

And the fruit - not just apples and pears, but quince, yew and other unidentifiable shrubs.

Then there is the mast itself, beech, ash keys,

conkers (horse chestnut)

and decent-sized sweet chestnuts. ( Found serendipitously in an obscure car park!)

All seen around Halloween, to remind us of light, life, death - and to have some fun in between!

Can I tempt you to a spooky finger? Eye balls, anyone?

 

Food as family glue....

We have come away for a bit of a break, tracing the same journey (more or less) for the second time in a few weeks. Going from built-up area to countryside, crossing counties via the Tops and, almost imperceptibly, what is visible from the window drifts in to the surreal.
Large signs invite visitors to pick their own pumpkin, acquire skills needed for zombie survival or enjoy afternoon tea. There were notices indicating where one could find the local pet cemetery, piano salesroom and a stone* of baking apples for the bargain price of £2. Huge scarecrows and a suspicious-looking inflatable snowman (disguised creatively with black bin bags to resemble a witch - maybe) loom from behind hedgerows, reminding readers where the local Halloween and firework celebrations would be held.
And then there is/are the pheasants. So many, brightly coloured males and dull brown hens huddled in large groups along the walls and fences, plotting a suitable (survival?) strategy for the coming season.
I nearly stepped on a toad last night.
Last time we came this way, it was for a family get-together, celebrating achievement, birthday, travel and isn't-it-nice-we-can-all-be-together-ness. As time goes on, these things happen less often, usually only at Christmas, so are cherished all the more. I love and enjoy them, then worry afterwards in case I failed to get it right. Did I respond in the right way to what was said?                                                                       Was I understanding /sympathetic/supportive or did I miss the point? the opportunity? fail in the eyes of others?
After a few days of this, a kind of sanity prevails.
I remind myself of the moment, the fun and the glow from being together. I try not to judge, and therefore have to hope am not judged.
The food was good.
With family, it is always food - the eating, the talking, the preparing, the wasn't-that-a-rubbish-programme? and I-did-enjoy-that-recipe.
So a few piccies from a fab afternoon tea.

       

        

 

*stone is an imperial weight, 14lbs, which is about 6and a bit kilos (I think!)

Fifties nostalgia

There was a need to consult t'internet, t'other day. A request for a birthday cake for someone who is keen on 'shabby chic and floral tea cups'. So we accumulated a list which included - Cath Kidston, chintz, the Fifties and pink (also, possibly, pale lemon, pale blue and just maybe pale green). Now, my sugar craft skills are more imaginative and enthusiastic than skillful, so I scoured my baking books, searched the supermarket shelves and visited a local market and a specialist shop for ideas and goodies.
For a tray bake size, to feed 40 plus, it had to be an afternoon tea table.
Tinting the fondant to ensure a uniform shade, it is easy to over-estimate the amount needed.
So here it is.

(No, this is not a sunburned chicken, just an unfortunate lump of fondant - honest!)

As you can see, it is very pink.

 

 

 

Anyone need some pink fondant?
Anyone?
Please?

Time for a little quiet...?

Walking around a favourite book shop a while ago, my eyes were drawn to an island of calm, a rectangle of white amidst a clamour of colour, a haven for over-stimulated rods and cones. Its title did not blare out, but had to be sought with questing fingers, titling the cover gently through the light.
Quiet.
Seemingly a thoughtful book and it called to me.
Reading it has taken time and I am still only just over halfway through - it can not be rushed. I may not finish it, as it has a fine sandpaper effect and what it reveals may not be jewels, but dross.
At one point there was a discussion about empathy and although we must be equally empathic for both the happy and unhappy event, the sad times seem to leap to the fore. I was reminded of a television series many moons ago called The Martian Chronicles, adapted from short stories by Mr. Bradbury (I want to say Malcolm, but of course it is Ray). One I particularly remember was about the last Martian left on the planet, who lived with an elderly couple (Earthling settlers). Although they thought he was their long-lost son, this was not a problem and all were happy, until there was a family outing to a nearby town. Their 'son' got lost in the crowds and became confused, disorientated. People in the crowd noticed and then 'recognised' him. Their daughter, a friend, a parent, someone they had left back on Earth.
The Martian was an empath. He twisted and turned, trying to deal with all the emotional demands that surrounded him and because his race had no instinctive filters, found it unbearable. He was truly the last of his race.
So the white book has been put to one side and I am cheering myself with some T.P., an author who is to the brain what rice pudding is to the tummy - a spiritual duvet!

Brightening the day....

Is there anyone who actually like pigeons? (even in a pie?) They perch on the roof, just outside the bedroom window, coo-cooing. Okay, perhaps this is what pigeons were designed to do, but do they have to do it 20 minutes before the break of day?
Every day?
I am not a fan (you guessed?), so this made me smile.

(I would like to think perhaps it is adventurous taxidermy, but probably not.....)

  While there, we did the culture thing, visiting an exhibition on at the Walker gallery (liverpoolmuseums.org.uk/rankin). Thought-provoking, particularly the life masks. Most of us have seen the occasional death mask. By their very nature, we expect them to be lifeless, no longer dancing under the influence of our conscious and unconscious thoughts. But these too, were free of expression. Then, reading the names of those featured, the realisation that some are now deceased.
Mildly disturbing.
But definitely worth a look, if you have the chance.
Also explored the new library, just down the way. Brilliant, will have to go back for a proper shufty.
And the view from the fourth floor? Well worth the climb.
Recognise it?

Of course you do!

..stop and stare..

We have all been there, caught in the temporal displacement activity known as gardening. The call to those inside -"Wont be a minute, just going to dead-head the roses/buddleia/geraniums...." The greenery enfolds one, peace descends and time is somewhere else.
The buddleia did need tidying up, sky-searching branches only just within reach so when pulled down showered me with bits of goodness knows what; mostly greenery but also, as it turned out, wildlife. Shield beetles, which I had  previously only found on the loganberry canes, landed on me and the ground, as though dead. No scurrying away to safety, just still. Maybe stunned, because they were still there when (more than an hour later) I eventually tidied up and took the trimmings around the back, so I found the camera and took some piccies.

 

 

 

A little rain, a little sun and the butterflies and bees are back, feeding on the purple mass swaying in the breeze.

Oh, and the beetles had gone (so not dead!).

 

A moment in summer...

Muggy, misty sky, peppered with wheeling gulls and terns. Swooping, diving, turning, sweeping. Soaring up and screaming down, skimming over the sands. Frantic activity in that usually empty space between sky and land.
Perhaps the insects are rising in the summer air, flying ants taking advantage of the still warmth.
Or maybe it is just the annual avian re-enactment of that famous Hitchcock thriller.

...mumble..grumble...grouse..

There are many thankless jobs around and sometimes, especially in times of recession, you have to take what work is offered just to put bread on the table. If you have to work in a call centre, I sympathise, I really do, but ......
I can close my eyes, close my mouth and sometimes even close my mind but ears, well, they are different. When cooking, preparing a meal, I can (and do) ignore the door bell. The phone? Hmmm.. And when do the cold-callers call? Right, just after midday and between 5 and 6 o'clock.
So I really need to say this (just the once),
Will you please, get your foot out of my ear?

Little pots of mmm....!

Eating what is fresh, locally grown and in season, is satisfying on so many levels. Personally, I struggle to eat salads when the weather is cold, feeling baked apples and lentil soup are more satisfying. So it is no surprise that when we are surrounded by such an abundance of sun-ripened red, black and purple berries, the desire is to use them in as many ways possible. Who does not feel better for a meal of fresh, raw pick-your-own?
Lurking in one of my (many) cookery books was a recipe for a light pudding which is ideal for fruit gluts or even frozen fruit (although I am not sure it would taste as good with snow on the ground). It makes four generous servings - if put in to ramekins, it will make six or eight, and if less full because of the topping, maybe nine.
Yes, the topping. Good with out, better with whipped cream, but wonderful with white chocolate cream. This is a (very indulgent) dessert in its own, so is an ideal counterpoint. And the decoration is eminently munch able, so make lots!

Red and White Puddings.

In to a liquidizer/food processor put about 500g fruit (loganberries and strawberries are my current favourite), 125g caster sugar and about three-quarters of a measured pint of water, keeping the rest for later. Blend thoroughly. Place a sieve over a good sized pan and pour the fruit puree through it, adding the rest of the water to help squeeze as much fruit through as possible.
Weigh 50g cornflour in to a large bowl and mix with a little of the sieved puree, to a smooth paste. Heat pan with fruit to boiling point and pour over the cornflour paste, mixing well. Return to pan and stir until thickened, watching to make sure no lumps form. (If they do, remove from heat and stir well until mixed in. A small whisk can help at this stage.) Pour in to bowls and leave to cool.

White Chocolate Cream.
Put 284ml (now the cartons are usually 300ml) single cream in to a saucepan, adding the torn leaves and stalks from a large bunch of basil. Bring to a simmer over a medium heat, then remove from heat and set aside to infuse for at least 10 minutes - the longer the better, but take care a skin does not form. I leave it on top of the Aga until ready to continue.
Meanwhile, weigh out 325g good white chocolate drops, or if slab, chop in to small pieces.
Pour cream through a sieve in to a clean pan, squeezing out as much flavour as possible. Discard basil. Return pan to heat and bring to a simmer. Remove from heat and immediately tip in the chocolate. Leave a few minutes to melt, the stir until smooth.
Pour gently on top of Red Puddings and pour any remaining into small ramekins as a special treat!
Enjoy!

Any topping will do, almond rocher is nice, but I love caramelized cacao nibs (see 'ecole chocolat' for recipe).
Also, any herb would be good to flavour the cream. Mint is the obvious (I have used it to flavour ganache) but lemon balm would be interesting, or fennel perhaps...?)

....and the sulks are infectious?? *

We all have our moments of stubbornness, when we dig our heels in and refuse to budge. A line is drawn. Even if others prove categorically that our stated position is wrong, backing us in to an indefensible corner where black has to be declared white, then so be it. Backing down is not an option. 'They' go on and on, insisting they are right, insisting you are wrong and a mumpsimus is what you become.
In such a situation, though, I wonder if it less about who is wrong and more about who has to be right. A power thing. Human existence is built on little deceits, from the kind (you look wonderful, dear), the polite (that was very nice, interesting..), to the diplomatic (I'm sure this can be fixed) and the politic (everything possible is being done). Good manners, a smile and a tactful turn of phrase ease our way through life. In every disagreement, does someone have to be right? Or to be wrong? Does it really matter?
So what if we saw through every lie, all the misinformation and were aware of all the side-stepping from what actually is, to what others think we should know. I have just read a novel which puts forward the idea of an engine which would enable everyone to recognise a lie for what it was and see the consequences of its outcome and suggests it would therefore promote an end to war, conflict. Possible?
Or do we need little lies and deviousness to deal with the hugeness of life? If we truly knew what would happen if we said/did a certain something, would we ever be able to do anything?

This all came from the 'wordsmith' site and its word of the day - mumpsimus; (1) A view stubbornly held in spite of clear evidence that it is wrong. (2) A person who holds such a view.
A site to provoke thought!

*Oh, quote from my dictionary, under 'mump' - The sulks; a contagious disease characterized by a swelling and inflammation in the parotid and salivary glands!

Summer smiles

Hurrah, midsummer and the sun shone! The garden is green, purple, pink and humming with bumble bees, who have constructed a hive in the yucca (which is sporting several spikes of red/cream flowers). (Does anyone recognize this bee?)

 The pond is crowded with frogs, including a very large sand-coloured one with distinctive markings down behind its eyes. Blackbirds have a nest and I am hoping there is a hedgehog home in the compound - early one morning I saw one making several journeys from garden to hidey-hole, mouth bursting with dried leaves.

                                                              

Courgettes and beans are beginning to fill the bins and loganberries promise to be prolific. It feels like an old fashioned cottage garden, it just needs some old fashioned summer weather!

Decisions, decisions.....

When did you make your first choice? Do you remember? I certainly do not, but this was a question put to me by a seven-year-old doing their homework, a task designed, I think, to help them learn and understand themselves. As adults we know our lives are full of choices and that consequences arise as a result; admittedly, egg custard or chocolate eclair is not quite as earth-shattering as send in the troops or continue the peace talks.
As grown-ups we shoulder much of that responsibility for the children in our care but do we also have the responsibility to teach them how to make choices themselves, balance options, make a decision and then be prepared to accept the result? And when does parental control become controlling?
Should we presume choice-making, along with cutlery manipulation, basic good manners and politeness are absorbed osmotically as little humans grow, or should it be taught? Learning gradually so that more serious choices can be made without confrontational battlegrounds sprouting like weeds amongst daily family life.
I read (somewhere philosophical) that 'because (hu)man is free, he is responsible for everything he does. Freedom condemns us to make choices.'
A serious thought, worthy of contemplation.
Sartre says we must never disclaim responsibility for our actions.
(Is philosophy taught on the national curriculum?)
So there are always choices, starting perhaps in the highchair, with 'rusk or apple?'
Not life-and-death, but the beginning of a learning process.

Horizons...

Sun shining, light breeze from the sea, ideal weather for a morning stroll along the front. Lots of others thought so, too, including cyclists.
The prom is lumpy with repairs, assorted surfaces which break down at different rates. The road has had recent attention and is quite smooth, so why do the bikers choose to cycle on the prom? (and without an audible warning device).
Was it FCS*?
Is it that on the road they feel vulnerable, threatened, whereas on the pavement they are the hunter, the threat.
Power.
Or am I being cynical?

* Food-chain syndrome.

Bank holiday snapshot

There has been sunshine and you can almost hear xylem and phloem pumping throughout the garden so, as the last collection of the brown bin by the council looms, it was a day to spend outside.
Gulls (various), tits (blue, great, long-tailed), sparrows, blackbirds chasing magpies, wood pigeons shaking the last few flowers from the magnolia. Robins grooming in the sunlight, calling their claim to territory, starlings and swifts sweeping above.

Bees humming, hover flies over the pond in which a large frog and a teeny-tiny one hide amongst the flowering bog-bean. A spreading froth that maybe late frogspawn (or perhaps a neighbour's cat has been sick). Few butterflies so far, only cabbage white. Wisteria opening, also the holly buds and a 'borrowed' white clematis; wygelia pink-budded, loganberries showing promise of summer fruit.

Bluebells (and pink) still in flower although the daffodils have gone over, leaving some swelling seed pods. Forget-me-nots, bright lime-green euphorbia spiked with alium stems, first buds on roses. Unrolling ferns and the tiny pink flowers of who-knows-what, a welcome airy annual which lifts the darker areas. Wine-red columbine in the herb garden, bracket fungus on the deadwood pile. Foxgloves reaching skywards, but not as many as I would like.

 

And through it all runs the goose grass, horsetail and dandelion.
Of course, today it is raining and cold enough to consider lighting a fire!

homemadetinricepuddin

I recall an English teacher from my teens, very glamorous and determined to shake up the narrow, suburban minds of her class. One idea was to form a debating society and the first topic - 'Ignorance is bliss'.
Of course the whole thing was a disaster, no one had an opinion let alone the skills to argue their side and the idea of Devil's advocate was anathema to this group of 12year olds. Ignorance is apathy, was the unofficial conclusion.
So I thought I might mention that this blog was going to be called 'homemadetinricepuddin' - the title, in fact. Why then, is it called Beginnings? All down to ignorance, I'm afraid.
It was suggested I do a blog as a way of acquiring some IT skills. I am short of many things but this inability to deal successfully with technology is threatening to place me in the pigeonhole marked 'doddering-old-person'. My history with things electronic is not good. A new sound system was supposed to display things like 'track 2', but at my touch would only print ' Error Error.....Error, Error....' An old VHS recorder once switched itself on and played a non-existent tape until I was forced to pull the plug out (and leave it out - if replaced, the invisible tape would begin to play once more.....). Even battery watches are erratic, never telling the right time. An alternative timepiece requires a lottery win. Hope springs....
And although I flounder with the vocabulary, I am learning.So I now know that the field in which I wrote 'Beginnings' should have had 'homemadetinricepuddin' and 'Beginnings' should have been where it says 'post title'. (And you know this already because you took pooters apart in your cradle.) Slowly, slowly, all life strives....
You might ask why h.m.t.r.p.? (If not, you can skip this bit.)
When one is young and recently evicted from the nest, one quickly realises that feelings of hunger are not immediately met with a plate of food. Things such as shopping, cooking (and washing-up) have to be challenged and mastered. Instant noodles soon pall and the search begins for easy, uncomplicated meals. A sense of experimentation grows. Fish finger butties, gourmet beans on toast, spaghetti and custard. Some are better than others. Mine was - yes, of course....
How do you make rice pudding, that universal comfort food? Is there a recipe? When asked, the family cook says things like - you just take a few spoonfuls and do this.... then add that..... not too much, then put it in the oven. Quantities? times? Ever felt inadequate? (sigh).
So I bought a tin of rice pudding, emptied it in to a dish and added some milk, sprinkled a pinch of grated nutmeg over the top and put it in the oven. After a while it gets hot and develops a skin - hurrah, it looks just like the real thing. It tastes quite good, too. (Of course, sometimes it gets forgotten and dries out a bit, in which case just add some more milk. The bonus is extra, crunchy skin, the best bit...)
There, my claim to fame.
I never was given an official recipe for the real thing and when asked recently how to make rice pudding from scratch, I found myself saying - well, take a handful or two of rice.....

House life

Have you been introduced to Lepisma saccharina? It likes flour, sugar and the glue used in modern kitchen units. Silverfish, to you and me. I was told they are a simple animal from the time of the dinosaurs (although a brief search on tinternet has failed to confirm this) and it is easy to imagine them scurrying through the mare's tail and assorted ferns, alongside tortoises and woodlice in the Jurassic jungle. (It is possible tele-land is colouring my imagination.) Do you think they were in to extreme sports? Bungee jumping? Chicken, in front of a brachiosaurus?  Maybe. Because recently when coming down in the morning I have found at least one of their dessicated bodies curled up, on top of the Aga.
Not native to volcanic regions, then.

P.S. Re last post...
       Just noticed a pink bluebell in the garden. So they're not rare either......

...going on a hunt, a li.....

Up early as big yellow ball was shining through the curtains, so decided to go for a walk in search of elusive wild life. Through the Monkey woods a carpet of dappled blue was sprinkled with white - both bluebells. Apparently white is not rare and pink is a type of Spanish bluebell, but I don't remember seeing either before this walk. The blossom on the wild pear and escaped greengage holds a promise of fruit come autumn. Along the boardwalk we saw house (or possibly sand) martins, corvids, ducks (both mallard and shell) and too many others to identify, as we had to spend some time avoiding runners/joggers. Looked for froglets (or naterjack toadlets) but with Spring being late this year, this was a tad optimistic - but I did spot some tadpoles in one of the small pools. Lots of gorse out, filling the warming air with scent and humming insects. We returned along the cinder path (dodging cyclists) and we noticed some white blossom in the thorny hedgerow which might be blackthorn, so will have to revisit later on in the year to check for sloes.
Sadly no lizards to be seen despite the warm weather and we were home before lunch, even stopping for coffee. A good way to spend the May bank holiday.
Yes, sunshine on a bank holiday. Now that's something to write home about! 

Secret cakes..

This has been a week for baking from the CCC (Clandestine Cake Club) cookbook. My fwend has baked the light stem ginger cake (twice), the magic bean cake (which may need less than three apples) and the sultana cake (which she was kind enough to share with us). A colleague made the elderflower cordial cake with white chocolate ganache, which she said was yummy (no samples left, so we have to take her word for it). I baked the cranberry and orange Madeira cake, a lovely plain cake which left a refreshing citrus tang in the mouth with no trace of guilt.
Of course I tweaked the recipe. No springform tin, so I parchment-lined two 16cm gold Prestige tins, with enough mixture to fill 2 mini cases(about the size of a muffin tin).
Don't like using a food processor for cake (it is so easy to over mix), so made it like my carrot cake, using a rotary whisk.
200ml is about the juice from 3 oranges.
For those with an Aga, I put them on the second shelf up (top oven) with solid tray above, for 15 minutes, turned tins round, removed solid tray and cooked for a further 10 - 15mins. Check with a skewer for doneness.

As with all baking, know your oven. The elderflower cordial cake was baked in a fan oven and came out a bit well-fired.
Next week I plan to try the Empire cake with cardamon buttercream. Still having no springform tin, I think it may work as a tray bake. I was going to do the Japanese green tea + orange cake (such a pretty green colour) but having investigated to cost of matcha (how much?!) will leave that until the numbers come up!

I felt I had to include a photo of the fancies - I make them so rarely, I forget the decorations - so this is a memo to self.
(P.S. The beige blob with a squiggle of chocolate (middle top) is the trendy roasted white chocolate which seems to be everywhere....)