A sigh of relief

Today brought many a sigh of relief. Firstly, it is the first Sunday in a long time that I have not been working, and so meant a full day of N's company. It was spent in a very typical manner, him being crafty at the table, me being crafty on the sofa, but even this silent time, spent in mutual contemplation of our tasks, and the cricket, made everything feel aligned again.

Speaking of cricket, a huge exhalation went up when the final ball was lofted over the outfield for four, and England won the series. It was touch and go at the end there, and two people and one cat held their breath as they prayed that it wouldn't be a truly dreadful day for English sport.

Because yes, unless you've managed to blissfully avoid World Cup mania, you're probably aware the England went out of the tournament today. I know it is controversial to admit, but I breathed a sigh of relief at this too. Frankly, now we can stop pretending to believe the hype that England are going to win (which they never were, let's face it), we can all sit down, relax, and enjoy the rest of the competition, whilst watching some teams who actually can play football.

Phew, mini-rant over. Sorry about that!

What I really wanted to tell you about was the sauce I made for our pancakes this morning. I didn't plan the pancakes, but the lack of bread and unwillingness to miss a single moment of any sport today meant that I needed to come up with a breakfast option fast. I used my go to recipe (which I've tweaked a bit over the last six months) and would have added blueberries to them, except I suddenly decided instead to whip up a sauce. I'm so glad I did! It would have produced a sigh of happiness, had it not been for us both stuffing stacks of pancakes and sauce in our mouths!

It's super simple, quick and uber tasty. It goes incredibly well with a subtly flavoured pancake, and a dollop of creme fraiche, so that the sauce is the star of the show. I'm sure it would be equally delicious on waffles, ice cream or French toast.

Blueboozy sauce - serves two for pancakes, liberally.

2 cups blueberries, fresh or frozen.
1 large glug of creme de cassis, or for a non-alcoholic version, a dark berry (or elderflower) cordial
1 tbsp water
3-4 tsp cornflour

Place the blueberries in a small saucepan with the water. Begin to heat gently until they release their juice. Then add the cassis or cordial. Continue to cook gently until the blueberries are bursting and there is a large amount of liquid in the saucepan. Add the cornflour a teaspoon at a time, through a sieve (to avoid lumps forming) mixing as you add. Wait for the mixture to thicken slightly in the heat. You can continue to add cornflour until the sauce reaches your desired texture. I had mine fairly thick so that it sat well on pancakes, but if I was using in on ice cream I'd leave it much thinner.

Pour over hot pancakes, toast or waffles, or scoops of vanilla ice cream. Enjoy!

I'm a fool (for rhubarb and mango)

I'm aware that there's been more than a bit of sewing posts going on round here lately, and that I might have to admit that perhaps this blog has moved on from being entirely food-based. I like to think of this as a good thing - it certainly is for my waistline, I can tell you! - I like to think of it as me extending my skills (albeit rather slowly since I can't keep my head in a project for long).

However, the food ain't going away, and I'm still toiling away in the kitchen (okay, I never "toil" but you get the idea), because lets face it, sewing is hard work (?!) and the only way it's going to get easier is if there's a big ole chocolatey, desserty, baked piece of goodness to go with it.

With that in mind I think it's about time I shared another recipe from the tonne that I've been making (and tasting) recently. Tonight I was in a mad dash to use up a whole bunch of stuff that was in fear of festering in the fridge during our busy weekend.

I had some cream leftover from another project - more about that another time - and a mango that was positively oozing with ripeness. As I was standing with the fridge door open, totally unecologically pondering what to do with mango and cream, the rhubarb caught my eye. Now I had three things to work with.

Do rhubarb and mango go together? I figured they must and set to work.
Slice, chop and puree mango. Whip cream loosely, add mango to cream. Voila! Mango fool. Slice rhubarb and lay in pyrex dish, squeeze over the juice of an orange and drizzle with a tablespoon of honey. Roast in a preheated 200C oven, for 25mins, or until tender, sloshing juice over every so often. Cool. Bung scoops of fool into wine glasses and top with cooled rhubarb and a bit of the cooking juices.

The result: Mango fool topped with honey and orange roasted rhubard. Sounds impressive, took about five mintes (minus the cooking time of course!). We haven't scoffed it yet as N is still on his way home from the pub. But we will, soon (I can't wait much longer!), and based on sneaky licks of the bowl and spoon, it's going to be very nice indeed.
Go forth and fool!


p.s. I realised that I didn't give you any measurements, mostly because I didn't take any. I reckoned it was about 200ml of double cream, one medium mango, about 350g rhubarb (once chopped). It would easily serve four if you used smaller glasses, but I was generous and made three servings.

Apples and dancing (I was told there might be dancing)

I am off to visit the wonderful Lady K today for some belated birthday revelry and of course I didn't feel I could arrive cake-less. For my birthday last year my parents gave me a card which had the words "birthdays are nature's way of telling you to eat more cake" on the front. I couldn't have put it better myself. Birthdays should always have cake.

I didn't feel like making a layered chocolate cake this year (and if I've remembered correctly I made K chocolate cupcakes last year) so I decided to go a bit off piste and do something completely different. Plus I need to be able to transport it easily on a bus for a few hours and a towering chocolate frosted masterpiece just spells disaster. So whilst curled up in front of the cricket on Thursday I pulled all my cookbooks one by one off the shelf looking for the perfect cake to make. Strangly, nothing struck me as being quite right. Then I happened to glance up at the television and catch the apple-filled fruit bowl in the corner of my eye and remembered this recipe.

I had apples, and it looked like I'd be able to get it safely on a bus, and having been given free-range by K to make whatever I thought would be a good I decided to go for it. I'm so glad I did, the smell of the apples coated in rum and spices filled the flat with the most tempting aroma.

I adapted the recipe slightly - no alcohol, now come on, if there's one thing that birthdays have to have as well as cake it's alcohol, and if you can combine the two all the better - and didn't have a tube pan so used a springform pan instead. Oh, and I changed the sugar and spices. I also made a sneaky test cake for us to have as dessert last night. Seriously, you have to test things that are presents for other people to make sure they're okay! The result? A nice dense cake lightly flavoured with vanilla and rum, topped with slightly caramalised spiced apples. The large version also has apples inside which I think will only make it more delicious. I think it would be very nice served warm (or cold) with a rum-raisin or vanilla bean ice cream. Ah, for the want of a KitchenAid ice-cream making bowl!
Here's the recipe as I made it. It makes a dense, not too tall, 23cm cake, probably quite a few servings, but for a birthday gathering it'll be just right.

Spiked spiced apple cake

6 apples,
1/2 tablespoon mixed spice
1/2 tablespoon nugmeg
dash ground ginger
5 scant tablespoons brown sugar
Rum (probably between one and two shots (25-50ml)


2 3/4 cups flour, sifted
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup vegetable oil
1 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup caster sugar
1/4 cup blood orange juice (I also added a dash of lemon, of course I did!)
2 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
4 eggs
50ml rum


Preheat oven to 180C. Line and grease a springform pan (mine is about 23cm). Peel, core and chop apples into chunks. Toss with spices and sugar and pour over the rum. set aside.

Sift together flour, baking powder and salt in a large mixing bowl. In another bowl, whisk together oil, orange juice, sugar and vanilla. Mix wet ingredients into the dry ones, then add eggs, one at a time. Scrape down the bowl to ensure all ingredients are incorporated. Then add the rum and stir until combined.

Pour half of batter into the pan. Spread half of apples over it (make sure you include some of the spiced rummy juices too). Pour the remaining batter over the apples and arrange the remaining apples on top (again adding the final juices from the bowl). Bake for about 1 then cover with foil to stop the apples burning, the apples should be slightly browned by this point, then bake for aprox 45-50 more mins, or until a skewer comes out clean.

Leave to cool before turning out.

I hope you have a good weekend, I'm off to deliver cake and throw some shapes on the dance floor...(there were rumours of dancing, but I think I might just be seated in the pub, my shape throwing really isn't up to much)

'ave a banana. No really, please eat one. Or two, or three, I'm begging you.

Do you ever get that feeling that there are far too many things in your head and not enough time to get them onto paper, or into the oven, or cast on to the needles, or traced onto fabric? That's exactly how I'm doing at the moment. I keep thinking of things and can't quite manage to keep one thing on my mind long enough to actually do it. It's like I'm too inspired. Sounds stupid, right?

There is one outcome of all of the above though, one I'm really good at. Mess. I actually left washing up for two days. Two days. That's just not right. And I haven't seen the dining table in a very long time. I'm sure it's there, under the papers, and fabric, and wool, and jars, oh so many jars!

There was something else that got left behind too. The bananas.

I'm not a fan of bananas. In fact if any one asked I'd have to be honest and say I don't like them. Used to. Used to eat them all the time. Perhaps I bananed myself out. Which, incidentily is exactly what I've managed to do to N. Apparently, "bananas are a great fruit, so tasty and easy to eat" doesn't mean "please add one to my lunch everyday." Oops. I did the same with kiwi fruit last year and now N won't go near one.

Last week I noticed we seemed to be leaving the bananas behind. They were floundering in the fruit bowl, ripening everything in their wake, and then being shifted to the fridge where they could turn black and lurk, like black lurking bananaery things. Eventually the waft of over-ripe banana smell every time I opened the door got to me and I decided to try my hand at banana bread, or rather banana bread in muffin form. With added blueberries, because what the hell, N loves them too and we have some.

Baking banana bread has several advantages; it uses up bananas, it gets N to eat aforementioned fruit without it feeling like a chore, and I don't like it. Oh yes. I won't even be tempted to have "just a tiny piece" - which so often ends up being three or four tiny pieces and a potentially increasing waistline. The supposedly delicious moist bananery smell eminating from these was enough to make me leave the kitchen, and voila, no more tempting baked good for me (yeah, like that'll last, we all know what chocolate dipped holiday is hovering).

The down side of course is that I haven't been able to taste these little "blunana" muffins, and so can't tell you about the results. They look appealing, and wholesome, and I promise to report back when N has tried them tomorrow.

Oh, I forgot to mention, they're low fat and vegan too.I made ten large muffins (they're supposed to be for breakfast) out of the following bread recipe, but you could easily bake it in a loaf tin for about 45-50 mins and slice it instead. I just wanted the easy servings to push into N's hand as he dashes out the door in the mornings.

Blunana muffins/bread

3 very ripe bananas
1 1/2 cup blueberries (I actually just used three small handfuls)

1/4 cup apple puree

1/4 cup groundnut oil

1/2 cup brown sugar

2 tablespoons molasses

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 cup wholemeal flour

1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon mixed spice (or cinnamon, but at the last minute I realised I'd run out and it was raining so there was no way I was leaving the house, yes, I'm lame, I know)

1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon salt

Preheat the oven to 180C and line a muffin pan with ten papers, or line a loaf pan

In a large mixing bowl, mash up the bananas really well. Add the sugar, apple puree, oil, and molasses, and mix to combine.

Sift in the flours, baking powder, spices, and salt. mix until the wet and dry ingredients are just combined, then gently add the blueberries - mine were frozen so it was easier.

Add a quater of a cup of batter into each muffin case, top up if you have left over.

Bake for aprox 20-25 mins, or until the tops are browning and a toothpick comes out clean. Cool and then eat.

Pretty on the inside: October Baking Day and the story of the inaugural pie.

This is a story of a pie. A pie in a beautiful bright red pie dish.

I've never made pie before. Hard to believe, but it's true. I'm not quite sure how it came to be this long before I attempted pie. It wasn't really about fear, because I've made pastry before with success. It wasn't even about lack of tools, because you can make pie in any ovenproof dish and I have several pyrex ones tucked away. But for some reason the dessert has eluded me. Until now.

There was a conspiring of events, as there often are when it comes to me attempting a new recipe. First was a conversation between N and myself about the seasons changing and how it would soon be time for warming hearty food. Pie came up and I learned that N was a fan. How could he not be in fact, warm fruits, spices and pastry. What's not to love.

Then the second thing happened: Mum pointing out that Lakeland, home of all things a domestic goddess doesn't even know she needs, has a website. Disaster! Before I knew it two hours had passed and I had perused every page of the site, sometimes going back to pages for a second or third look. It's a good thing my credit card was in the other room and that I was pinned down on the sofa by the cat, otherwise the damage could have been very widespread indeed.

On one of the pages was a pie dish. A bright red pie dish with a fluted edge. It was beautiful, it was perfect and it was screaming out to join my kitchen and force me to make pie. And so the Lakeland fairy visited whilst we were on holiday (thank you Mum) and suddenly the means to make pie were there. It was like a challange.

But with a dish that sexy it couldn't be any old pie. Oh no, I wanted it to be the best pie ever, which was something of a high standard considering I've never made pie before. But I'd tackled the beast of jam making and overcome it, so I was feeling pretty confident.

Off I went to Smitten Kitchen to get the foolproof pie dough recipe. I could have used ordinary sweet shortcrust pastry, but no, this had to be special and everyone said this was the dough of all doughs. I had to do a bit of conversion work, and the amount of butter seemed very high (I used all butter, rather than a butter and shortening mix), but I decided just to go with it. For the filling? The epitome of autumn; apples and pears spiced with a mix of cinnamon, mixed spice, nutmeg and ginger.

See, see how beautiful that pie dish is? I don't deserve a pie dish that seductive. I filled the pastry case with the fruit, rolled out a nice thick top, placed it carefully over the fruit, cut slits for the steam to escape, and even made little leaves out of the left-over dough. A masterpiece.

Then disaster struck. I made the mistake of glancing in the oven while it was cooking. My perfect crust had sunk over the fruit and the shell had shrunk. NOOOOOOOOO! I had broken the perfect pie, I had failed the pie dish.

But all was not lost. There is a happy ending to the story, because despite it's rather rugged exterior, this pie was pretty on the inside, the fruits were delicately spiced and not too soft and the pastry turned out just right and didn't seem to have suffered despite the sinking.

I might fiddle with the ratios in the pastry using less fat next time, I might add more fruit to the filling next time, I might make the shell larger to prevent shrinkage next time, but the important thing is...there will be a next time. Oh yes, my pie making days are only just beginning, and there are a good five months of cold weather still to come.

Juice the thing.

We got a juicer! It's so exciting. I didn't think that just juicing fruit could be such fun, but it is. In goes fruit, peel and all, and out comes delicious liquid. Our relationship with fruit will never be the same again. Gone will be the days of fruit festering in the fruit bowl, and frantic searching for recipes to use pears that went ripe when no-one was looking. Into the juicer it'll go.

I think it's even more exciting because the juicer came courtesy of our landlord so we didn't even have to buy it! A total sconto moment. However I already fear the inevitable need to purchase one when we move as we'll have been so addicted to juicing!

It arrived on Friday and so on Sunday morning we collected up some fruit that had been sitting around and decided to start our juice experiments. Employing the "techno-joy" approach (throw away manual and get stuck in) we basically turned it on and chucked in a whole bunch of random fruit: pineapple, pear, apple, and in my case lemon. The result? Joy in a glass. It was so wonderful, totally different to the stuff you get in cartons. No added sugar, no preservatives, just a whole load of lovely juice, topped off with the foamy goodness produced by the juicing process. I posted the picture of our first experiment the other day as part of a photo essay, but I shall post it again, because yes is it as tasty as it looks!

We got straight back on the juicing wagon on Monday morning, frantically searching for other things we could put through the crazy whirring blades. We came up with a mango, more apples and pears and a banana. Now the banana wasn't too successful (it clearly didn't get the brief about it needing to come out the juice end not the pulp end - oops!), but some of the flavour still got through into the juice and once again we had tasty goodness in a glass. It was so nice I drank it before I could take a photo!

Today I did some more experimenting, this time using a pink grapefruit, apple and nectarine. It wasn't as good as the first two attempts - too much grapefruit so it dominated - but still a lovely juice.




I can't wait to start trying all sorts of things. I'm not sure whether I will be trying anything too experimentaly, like weird vegetable juices with odd herbs that offer the "ultimate detox" (yes the super juice recipe book really did promise that, my response of course was to reach for the chocolate), but I reckon pretty much any fruit will make it into a glass in this flat at some point from now on.

In other news, the Malteaster tray bake has indeed been made far too many times since the first attempt. Not great for the waist line, but oh-so tasty. N made it (shock horror!) on Saturday afternoon, this time using dark chocolate instead of milk. It was amazing. So much better than the milk chocolate, richer with a greater depth of flavour and not as sickly. Today I have made some as a half-time treat (we're off to see the mighty Arsenal at the Emirates this evening) this time using half dark chocolate and half butterscotch. We shall see, but I think no matter what, it's going to be a winner!

The loaf pan strikes again.

I did warn you that the loaf pan had been getting rather a bit of use in the flat this week. A while ago whilst browsing the archive of posts on one of my favourite food blogs I came across a recipe for "lemon yoghurt anything cake." On the post the cake had included blueberries, but it was pointed out that it had adaptability to such an extent that pretty much any aspect of the recipe could be changed and the results would still be amazing.

Hmm...almost limitless adaptability? That sounds like exactly my sort of thing! I'm sure it's clear enough by now, over 100 posts into my food blogging "career" that I just can't leave recipes alone. If there is any wiggle-room I'll find it and use it.

Knowing this about me, it will probably also strike you as rather strange that when I made the lemon blueberry yoghurt cake from the post I changed absolutely nothing. It just looked so damn good I didn't want to fiddle. Okay, that's not entirely true, I didn't have quite the same size loaf pan, so used my trusty bread one and hoped for the best. The result? A gorgeous moist cake backed with citrus and bursting berries that sat perfectly throughout the cake without a single one sinking!

I took it to our weekend Dungeons and Dragons session in Lancing and it went down very well. So much so that despite having had ice-cream and banana cake for dessert after lunch us adults whacked the kettle on for another cup of tea, if only for the excuse to break out the second cake! This is alas the reason why I don't have any pictures of inside the cake. It got carried to Lancing and then eaten so fast I didn't have a change to whip out the camera. Now there's an excuse to make another if I ever needed one!

The only problem with the cake - and it's not really a problem - was that it took ages longer to cook than the recipe sugested (over an hour and half!). I think this is because the loaf pan I used was a lot deeper. However it didn't seem to affect the flavour or texture of the cake. Once the top had browned, but the middle not cooked, I dropped the temperature to 150C and if I'd have had it I would have put a bit of foil over the top to stop it cracking quite so much. Then again, these cracks were rather pretty in my opinion and were perfect for hording the syrup you pour over the cake as its cooling.



If you want a nice summery cake, refreshing, moist and delicious, this is the one for you!

I won't post the recipe because I didn't change it at all, and it'll give you an excuse to visit Smitten Kitchen and browse a great blog.

Ooh, what a tart!

It's been a rather busy weekend. Not only have we been at a wedding reception on Friday evening, we then had a meal out on Saturday, followed by drinks for a friends birthday, then today N has been working (did I mention it's Sunday? What kind of crazy company ask people to work on a Sunday?) As a result of all these goings on I though N might a like a little treat to ease the fact that he's going to have a long week after a very short and tiring weekend.

I had some mascarpone in the fridge that needed using, and decided that since it's been so hot and the summer fruits are in full swing the best thing to do would be a simple fruit tart. It would require minimal baking, which in the current heat is a very welcome thing indeed. It would also mean that N would actually get to taste some summer berries instead of watching them disappear into the freezer!

I planned to make a simple sweet pastry shell in my new tart pan, and then fill it with a mascarpone cream and top it with berries. I hadn't factored into this perfectly laid plan the fact that the last thing you want to be attempting in a hot humid kitchen is pastry. Argh! I just couldn't get the dough cold enough to work with, despite having chilling it first in the fridge and then the freezer. As soon as I removed it from the cling film and started rolling it, it got warm again and became almost impossible to work with. How on earth do people working in hot kitchens manage it? In the end I did the best I could and had to patch the shell where it had come apart. Not the prettiest most professional tart shell ever, but it would have to do. I slung it in the freezer to chill before I cooked it and then blind-baked it for 20 mins.


Fortunately the shell looked alright when it came out of the oven. While it was cooling I mixed some mascarpone with the juice of half a lemon and some icing sugar, whipping it until it was combined. I then spread this on the cold tart shell and topped it with mixture of berries I'd bought this morning at the market (and than had miraculously made it back in my rucksack!)


As you can see the result was rather nice indeed. I was really pleased with how it turned out, and N certainly made lots of happy noises whilst tucking into it, I think he might be able to cope with a second slice tomorrow evening!

So yeah, jam! - no, really!

Having borrowed my Mum's preserving pan, and been dutifully supplied with jars, lids and sterilization instructions last weekend I couldn't wait to get going on my new venture. I've been hoping to get the hang of it so that when (more like if) we get a glut of courgettes I can make chutneys in time for Christmas.

Our rhubarb plant has been growing like mad, and there is only so much compote two people can eat, so I decided to get creative and make jam. I picked up a recipe online for rhubarb and pink grapefruit jam and decided that this weekend I would finally do the last harvest of the rhubarb and preserve it ready for later in the year. Of course it would decide to be the hottest weekend of the year wouldn't it? On the very weekend I planned to stand over a boiling vat of fruit and sugar. Brilliant.

Oh well, I decided I might as well do it anyway. I couldn't possible get any hotter (especially since I'd cycled to the farmer's market and back!) so I might as well enjoy the purifying benefits of our lovely sauna kitchen. I went out and harvested as much as I dared from the plant and set about preparing it. As it turned out I didn't have quite enough to make the half batch I was planning, but I decided to simply cut down the sugar slightly and see how it turned out. I also decided to use pink grapefruits, rather than yellow. I thought the colours would complement each other and it would help cut down the sharpness. Also N is not a fan of grapefruit, but had admitted that the fresh pink grapefruit juice I'd had whilst in California was alright, so hopefully by using pink grapefruits in the jam he would still like it.

The rhubarb, peel and juice of the grapefruit and sugar had to sit for a while before the actual making could begin and the sharp citrus smell coming off it was fantastic, and the colours a real barrage of pinks and green. When it had rested I started the boiling process. It felt so exciting to be using the preserving pan, I mean okay I was making a very small amount and clearly could have used any heavy-based saucepan, but that's not the point! Plus in the future I plan on making large batches. Oh yes, be warned it's jam and chutney for Christmas this year people!

While the mixture was boiling away I poured the boiling water out of the jars that I had waiting and put them in the cooling oven to dry (cooling down from another exciting baked adventure; might as well put the oven on if the kitchen's going to be hot because of jam anyway, that was my excuse!). I really hope that I've managed to sterilize the jars well enough. I really don't want to lose my jam making attempts to mould.

It seemed to take no time at all. I was expecting it to be a long difficult process, but it all happened so fast, no doubt helped by the small amount, which is a good thing considering the temperature. I whipped it off the stove, carried the tray of jars out of the oven and began transferring the jam across into them.

Ta da!

How exciting, our very own jam, made from our very own rhubarb! I can't wait to try it. I am planning on having it on toast tomorrow morning, so will report back. The batch made just enough for this full sized jar, one tiny kilner jar, and just enough left over to put in the fridge to have on toast tomorrow. If I have stored it correctly it should keep for up to a year, which is really exciting. I am thinking of doing it again next weekend, this time with a huge batch of berries from the farmer's market. I'm totally on the jam wagon now!

Taste update: I have since tried the jam. It came from the fridge and was really solid, so I don't think I need to worry about the set! It's a nice little jam, not as strong on the rhubarb as I expected, which is a shame. I wonder if it might mature over time. The tang of the grapefruit is very tasty and I would contemplate making plain pink grapefruit marmalade. I did however, despite the tang, find it a little sweet. Less sugar and more pectin next time methinks.

In other news, the recipe for this jam was taken from a round-up of a jam and jelly exchange organized by Molly, of Batter Splattered, a food blogger who I read regularly. She is about to arrange another exchange and I've registered my interest. Who knows, my next batch of jam might be flying across the world!

The heat must be getting to me

It finally actually feels like summer here: glorious days when the sun is so strong that the heat really penetrates your skin. It's wonderful. Now I've raved about it, it can't possibly last. I never used to be a summer person. I always found the heat too much, the sun too bright, the clothes too, well, summery! I used to long for the long dark cozy nights of winter, curled up with hot drinks and huge jumpers, the days when jeans were never too hot to wear and going outside wasn't an option.

Then again, I was carrying a bit of extra weight in those days, and more than a little obsessed with black clothes, black hair, black eyeliner, black lipstick, black anything in fact.

These days I am quite the opposite; I revel in the sunshine, can't wait to get the doors wide open in the mornings and potter in the garden or sit at the table soaking up some vitamin D, and although I have clung on to my love of black clothing (it's not goth, it's classic, elegant and flattering) I'm more likely to be found sporting a light dress or shorts and vest tops these days.

I think the summer heat does make me slightly crazy though. It stops my brain from making rational decisions. Yesterday I pottered down to the fruit and veg stall only intending to try and get a couple of punnets of berries, one to freeze (I am frantically trying to freeze a stock of summer fruits so I can have them in the winter and not have to resort to buying mediocre berries flown halfway across the world with less flavour than a damp rag) and one to make into muffins for N's lunch. However, when faced with the piles of punnets of blueberries, the mounds of Kentish cherries and the sign pointing out the "ripe and ready to eat English plums" I went into autopilot, my brain switched off and the irrational fruit lover in me took over!

I walked away with my rucksack loaded with four punnets of blueberries, 2lbs of cherries and 1lb of plums, and a token bit of root ginger (which will play a part in some posts over the weekend I hope). What was I thinking? We'd had our fruit and veg delivered only the day before and had gorgeous nectarines, apples and melon to get through, how on earth were we going to plough through my stone fruit and berry mountain?

The answer? If in doubt, freeze and bake! I immediately put three of the blueberry punnets on the rack in the top of the freezer so that in a couple of hours they could be boxed and ready for winter. I polished off two of the plums with lunch and they were so unbelievably good that there was no way I was going to bake with them, they can be lunch for the next two days. The cherries were going to be the real problem. When I see ripe cherries I really can't resist them, they really are one of my all time favourite fruits. I decided to bake some in to muffins to accompany the blueberries and to halve the rest and freeze them too. Needless to say we now have a freezer bursting with the delights of summer which ought to keep us going until the very depths of winter, and no doubt it'll be added to during next weeks brain spasm at the fruit stall.

Now, what about the muffins you're asking? Well I used a recipe from a magazine my Nanna saved once and sent to me. It's my basic go-to recipe for muffins because it can be adapted to almost anything and has yet to let me down. I decided to make a full batch of twelve (because I'd be freezing them for N's lunches) and split the batter so half would be spiced blueberry and the others spiced blueberry and cherry. I omitted the butter and used apple puree instead (partly because I like being able to cut the fat down and partly because I was too lazy to go to the shop and get butter!) and used half plain flour and half wholemeal to make them higher in fibre and more like a breakfast muffin. The result? Judge for yourselves:



Don't they look tempting?! The fresh berries burst whilst cooking and made the muffins into little berry volcanoes. The smell was amazing, cinnamon, mixed spice and berries. I can't wait to taste them. I am trying to hold out until this evening and our car journey to Hitchin' I'm not sure if I'll manage it to be honest.

Here's the recipe I used. If you want to bake with butter just exchange it for the apple puree, melt and add to the milk mix. You can chop and change the filling with no problems. I was probably 50g over the suggest weight of berries in the cherry ones and it didn't affect their baking or rising at all. Yes, that's how genius this recipe is!

Volcanic Very Berry Muffins: makes 12 (6 blueberry, 6 mixed - for all mixed up the cherries and down the blueberries)

100g apple puree
150g plain flour
150g wholemeal flour
1tbsp baking powder
150g golden caster sugar
2 eggs
250ml soy milk
1tsp vanilla essence
pinch of cinnamon (mine was a LARGE pinch!)
pinch of mixed spice
200g blueberries (aprox)
50g cherries (aprox - stones and chopped in half or quarters)

Line a muffin pan with twelve cases and put the oven on to preheat to 200C

Put the blueberries in a large bowl and stir in the flours, spices, baking powder and sugar until well combined. Put the apple puree, eggs, milk and vanilla into a jug and beat well until combined. Add to the dry mix and stir until combined, but try not to over mix, lumps are good for muffins. Spoon half the batter into six of the cases to get your blueberry muffins. Then add the cherries to the batter, combine and spoon into the remaining cases. Bake for 20 mins until risen and golden.

Enjoy the volcanic goodness warm, or cold. They should keep for three days in an airtight container, or freeze for up to three months.

In season at last

The summer might have finally arrived. Perhaps not the blisteringly hot sunny days I would hope for, but the time for booking holidays and enjoying the summer fruits.

Last night we booked our flights to Italy. Whoo! I'm so excited. It's going to be so beautiful and of course, so tasty!

This morning I cycled down to the tube station, outside which there is a fruit and veg stall. She always seems to have British produce and last week the raspberries we had were gorgeous. So I dutifully went off this morning to get some more, thing is she had blueberries as well. They're N's favourite so I couldn't resist. I bought three punnets of each, have put one of each in the fridge and set the others freezing so that we'll have delicious native summer berries later in the year when they're not available in the shops.


Thing is, I've just remembered that I was supposed to get cherries and a lemon. Oops!

A trifle tasty if you ask me.

It's incredibly hard to find fresh blackcurrents these days. I think they majority go into Ribena making, and the rest are probably tinned. We had some on our bush in the garden (about seven!) but the birds got to them before I could net the bush in protection. I thought the hope of fresh blackcurrents was over, and then suddenly I stumbled across them yesterday whilst pottering at Spitalfields market.

I was so excited by the prospect of having found some that I only bought one punnet (it didn't cross my mind I should by two and freeze one - oops!). No matter, one would be enough for the two of us. It was now just a case of what to make with them. I didn't really have enough for a pie (despite the numerous suggestions from a certain person *cough*mum*cough* that it was the only suitable way to serve them) so decided on a trifle. I haven't had trifle for years and have never made one myself. Fortunately with a little guidance from a certain Mr Slater, I discovered that all I really needed was a layer of sponge, a layer of fruit and a layer of cream. I had all those things ready. Sponge in the freezer leftover from the garden party, a spare pot of cream in the fridge for the same reason, and of course our lovely blackcurrents.

It was a bit of a slap-dash approach, using no recipe really other than the knowledge of the order the layers needed to be in, but it worked out very well indeed. A very simple version of trifle, but just what we needed to end our lazy weekend.



Easy blackcurrent trifle (serves four small portions or two large)

I used a small square pyrex dish from Ikea and it made just enough for two portions last night and two for this evening) You can double or triple the recipe if you use a larger dish

Quarter of a sponge cake.
punnet of blackcurrents
sugar
water
double cream
honey (optional)

Layer the sponge so it tightly fills the base of the serving dish. Put the blackcurrents in a saucepan with a tablespoon of sugar and two tablespoons of water. Cook for about ten minutes on a low heat until they are just bursting and releasing lots of lushious purple juice. Pour evenly over the sponge and leave until cool to allow the sponge to soak up the juices.

When it's cool whip about 100 -150ml of double cream (I just poured a bunch into a bowl without measuring!) adding honey to taste if you wish. Whip until it is just thickening. Spoon over the fruit layer in rough "clouds" and then place the whole thing in the fridge until ready to indulge!