Goodness

I don't know where to start. Over a month has disappeared since our interwebs went down, and there are so many things that have gone on it's hard to know where to begin. Firstly, I huge thank you if you've stuck with my silence and are willing to read again, I am hoping to be a better blogger now, and a better keeper-in-toucher.

And, well, er, yes. I guess I should begin with a confession. We moved! Yep, we're no longer living it up in Our Lovely Flat(tm) in north London. At the beginning of the year, oh yes, way back in January, we decided that it was time to get away from the hustle and bustle of life in the city. Peace, quiet and space in the suburbs were beginning to call, as was the exciting prospect of owning a place of our own, one with a proper garden, and stairs, and fireplaces. It seemed to take forever, with each viewing worse than the last, nothing affordable, and morale and dreams of houses disappearing faster than the post-viewing bottle(s) of wine.

Then finally an offer was accepted on the perfect place, and after much box packing, cat calming, and tester pot choosing later, we are in, unpacked, and even online again!

Now, obviously, there is a slight problem, as I cannot be "From a North London Kitchen" if in fact I am no longer in north London. Oops! So there will be some bigger changes a-foot on the blog.

But before then I have other things to share. The new house has meant more space, and as if we didn't have enough books, jars, wool and fabric to fill it with, we decided that something was missing from our new set-up.

Meet Gatto, the newest member of the family! Don't be fooled by those large cute eyes, he's a little terrorist! He eats Sniff's food, loves to climb on anything and everything, and three days into his life with us managed to scratch me in the left eye just as I opened them in the morning! He is definitely stamping his way into our lives (and refuses to sit still for good photos!)

Finally, a week into our new life a wonderful box arrived for me. The month before I had signed up to Siri's amazing Farmer's Market Exchange. It was a mad dash to get mine posted before the deadline, and amidst all the frantic packing, but I managed to get my box off, and wondered what would appear for me. Then we moved and I forgot about it, and suddenly a letter arrived saying a parcel was ready for collection. I was so lucky to be paired with Jes. Not only is her photography absolutely stunning, but she is an incredibly generous exchanger. As I delved into her package I felt ashamed that the timing of the exchange meant I hadn't squeezed more into hers. It was a box filled with Minnesota goodness; natural harvest maple syrup, blended tea, honeys and apple rings, as well as some homemade jelly and a piece of pottery made by Jes' Dad. How amazing is that?!

Thank you so much Jes. I've already enjoyed tea in my lovely new teacup, and can't wait to try the honey on some homemade bread (still tinkering with the new oven, it's not playing ball!)

It has been a month filled with madness, and stress, but also crammed with goodness. And now, as the autumnal chill begins to lurk in the air I am looking forward to a whole new phase of things.

I really hope that you'll all stick around and join me at number ninety eight, for a whole new set of adventures. There will be cake, and jam, and tea, a bigger garden to transform, knitting projects to finish, and cats to referee. I can't wait to share it all with you, and catch up on what everyone else has been getting up to.

Ladies wot lunch

A couple of weeks ago, when summer was at it's height, Rosy and I decided it was time to take advantage of the tucked away green spaces that London has to offer, and have a picnic.

It's amazing just what tranquility you can find in this city. Moments away from a busy road, and convenient bus route you can find yourself in gently green spaces, dappled in sunlight, refreshed by breezes, affording both quiet and comfort. I don't take advantage of it enough, and I really should.

I also don't take enough advantage of Rosy's amazing skills. I was in charge of the booze, and she was in charge of the main food items. I've been to picnics before where it's all a bit shambolic, the food is last minute, and squished into tupperware or still wrapped in shop cellophane, the blankets aren't sufficient and there is always one less plate or cup. I love those picnics for their charm, their laughter and their hapharzard cobbling together of things.

I suspected this would be something different, and I was right, after all it was two food bloggers, who take a leisurely lunch very seriously indeed. What I wasn't prepared for was just how unbelievable it would actually be. Honestly, this lady served up a still warm pesto and salad tart, a still perfectly crisp panzanella salad, and, wait for it, individual eton mess! I was out classed.

But I had the booze, so I like to think I did my bit. (we won't talk about the awful lemon cake I made that was so bad it embarrased me to even offer it...a write-off recipe that has been torn from my scrap book and burnt).

It was a perfect afternoon of calm, in the midst of one of the craziest and noisiest summers I've ever known.

I could very much get used to being a lady wot lunches.

The curious incident of the frog in the night time

This cute, fluffy, adorable little blighter has been getting up to some rather impressive tricks recently.

He doesn't enjoy the heat much, or rather, he likes to bathe in the sunshine in spring, but the height of summer is not his friend. You can't blame him, you'd be a summer grump too if you were carrying rather a lot of hot ginger fur (and perhaps a little bit of weight?! - yes, the v.e.t. did mention he should lose a few hundred grams!).

As a result he doesn't venture into the house much at the moment, but seeks out shadier spots under the decking or neighbours trees. Only popping in occasionally to remind us he needs feeding.

So I get all silly. I worry that he doesn't sit on my lap or want to be cuddled, I fear he loves someone else more than us and spends his days with them. I get in a bit of a tizz about it all.

And so Sniff finds ways to show his appreciation, as only cats do. A couple of nights ago we were graced with a midnight mouse hunt. Sniff kindly brought it in to show us just how exciting it can be to chase both him, and said rodent, around our living room. The prize was captured by a very on-the-ball N and given it's freedom, and what we thought was ample time to run and hide before Sniff was allowed out again.

Not so. How could two humans be so bad at this game? The aim is not to free the mouse, but to eat it! Sniff showed us just how we were going wrong by treating us to bit of ex-mouse around the flat the next morning.

Not to be deterred by his humans failings he upped the game. The night we finally got some humidity relieving rain he tried again. We were woken not by the pleasant noises of raindrops on the windows, but instead a very strange sound indeed emanating from the kitchen. Another poor mouse we assumed, so I gaily went out to do my fair share of chasing. In my sleepy haze I made the mistake of not taking my glasses, and so was peering at the strange shape on the floor, thinking how it was amazing that a mouse that spread out could still make so much noise, when it leapt into the air and emitted a mighty croak! It was a huge frog! Goodness knows how this innocent little cat had managed not only to catch the amphibian, but to get it through the cat flap in one piece! 

At this discovery all rescue duties were promptly handed over to a very sleepy N. I have nothing against frogs, but they rank with slugs and snails for their potentially sliminess, at least in my head! And I wasn't about to attempt capture, not least because I had no shoes on, nor glasses, nor any idea how to go about the manouver.

In the end it took two of us, one inside and one outside, to coax the poor thing back out into the damp garden, whilst little Sniffer was trapped in the bedroom eeking for all his little lungs could managed (I like to think he was balling instructions about how the game worked!)

Luckily the frog survived the encounter and hasn't been seen since, and our little kitty has been smugly sleeping off the exertion.

What remains a mystery is where the frog came from in the first place. As far as we are aware there are no ponds, streams or water holes anywhere near us.

It truly was a curious incident of a frog in the night time, and shall remain so...

I've served my time

I tried, I really tried, but 9-5 office work really isn't for me. At first I loved it. I was in and out of the office running training sessions, and meeting new people. But as the months went on, and the time in the office longer, it became clearer that this wasn't going to be something I could do long term. I loved the people in the office and have made some great new friends, but sitting down staring at a computer screen is downright depressing, and even a little soul-destroying for me.

Who knows, I might go back to it, but yesterday, after much deliberation and financial pondering and deep philosophical conversations with N, I bid farewell to my colleagues and gave it all up.

Eek! So I am taking almost a 50% pay cut and am swapping the office for a (gorgeous) shop job. It sounds strange, but it seems to be working for me at the moment. It's a incredibly creative environment, and I am surrounding by a wonderful group of crafty inspiring people. It also means that for the most part I have my four day weeks back, hurrah! So hopefully I will be here a little more often with all sorts of baking and crafty goodness.

Despite my desperate desire to get out of the office, I was a little sad to leave it behind, and it's very difficult to take such a massive risk. I will no longer be in an academic environment, and I certainly won't have much loose change kicking around. But I'm hoping it will be the start of a new chapter, and some exciting new ventures.

As a little thank you to all my amazing friends and colleagues in my office I baked them one last treat. Little chocolate fairy cakes topped with cream cheese icing and sprinkles. I called them chocolate cheesecake cakes, as that's exactly what they tasted like. Yum! We had a picnic at lunchtime and then wine at the end of the day. A lovely farewell.

The cakes went down a storm and were gobbled up in no time. I won't post the recipe, instead I shall direct you to it's source, as I can't take any credit the delicious cake was all thanks to my lovely friend Rosy. The only thing I can boast about is the decision to put the cream cheese icing on it. It wouldn't be my usual topping, but I couldn't resist and the result was delicious. Make them this weekend and treat yourself, but beware, you'll want to make British fairy cake size ones as they are incredibly rich!

Well, I am off to enjoy my day of freedom with some housework. I'm so rock and roll!

All you knit is love.

 
These hands are mine. Knitting in Barcelona. They could, however, quite easily be the hands of my mother, or indeed my grandmother. I have clear memories of seeing a photograph of my grandmother in a very similar setting, also on holiday, also in the sunshine. She is sitting on a rock (I think) knitting in her hands, in a beautifully stylish dress, looking at the camera with a little gleam in her eye. She is on her honeymoon, the person holding the camera is her new husband, and I believe she is knitting something for him, even while they are walking in the countryside.

It makes me smile to think of that picture, and to think of how proud she would be to know that I now share her love for knitting (and her wish to do it whenever and wherever). She never saw me knit. She tried patiently to teach me when I was younger, but I was more interested in climbing trees and pretending to be Columbo than sitting patiently forming stitches. But here I am now, having learnt from her daughter, and taken on what feels like the inevitable love of the craft that the women in my family have.

It's lovely, because every time I look down at my hands holding my needles I think of my grandmother and I think of my mum, and I smile.

Books.

There has been a lot of talk about books around the web at the moment. About old favourites, new favourites, and of course everyone's favourite, the public library.

So I thought for a bit of fun I would share with you just how out of hand my little cook book library is getting. We live in a small flat, and are both book obsessives, and so books are on shelves, on floors, on books, in cupboards, and always, always in hands. We have many genres, and are not snobs, "bath books" (those deemed comfort reads that do not suffer from damp fingers, rather revel in them) are tucked alongside classics, both new and old. My PhD related books take up almost the entire spare room (which is mostly to do with having to have at least three copies of all works by the author I was writing about, one for reading, one for annotating, and one first edition - oh and sometimes ones in languages I can't read, but simply wanted for the novelty!)

But it is the cookbooks that pose the most problems. They are of unusual and uneven sizes, and so do not uniformly suit one shelf. Nor is there space enough for all of them in the kitchen, so they are spread out all over the place like a grazing flock. And they move around. They go from being presents on show (in the living room), to bedside reading, to much splattered and in use, to pausing on the kitchen table before they make the rounds again. They are often found in cahoots with the craft books, conversing with the gardening section, or hanging out with the fantasy literature.

I dream of a house where I can have them all in one place, and yet I know it's much more fun this way.

Where do your cookbooks hang out?

Cake is coming...

A big thank you to everyone for voting. I promised cake, and you shall have cake. One that got rave reviews at the Food Junctions event. However, I need to make it again, and take photos, as the only proof I have is an empty tin and the full bellies of the people leaving my talk with suspicious crumbs around their mouths. 

We have just returned from a whirlwind visit to Spain. Five hours sightseeing followed by three days of family chatter in bars, and at train stations (an awful lot of time was spent here it would seem). Fortunately the ash only delayed us by an hour. Thank you Joe.

I shall bake this evening, and photograph and bring it to you with smiles and more thank yous. I also have some cookies to share. But tomorrow...until then I shall leave you with photographic proof of why I love my new job (and why I won't be going anywhere near a bikini this summer...) 

Cast your vote?

It's election night, and it's going to be a long one. So let's have a little fun...why not vote for me instead?



Maybe you could ask your friends too?

Pretty please, I'll bake you a cake...

Is there a Doctor in the house?

Yes there is!  

As of yesterday it's official, I've had the confirmation of award, and so the thesis is finally, finally complete. No more waiting for paperwork, it's all done, finished. Forever. 

Weird. It's a strange process, and I have to say it's left me with a feeling of anti-climax. I think in part because I am so tired at the moment, but also because the process at the end of a PhD is a bit like that. I did the examination at the end of November, then I made all the required changes by early January, and since then I've been hanging around waiting on a piece of paper to get passed to the right person. When this was eventually produced it got lost in the internal mail. It got to the point where I really thought the world was trying to tell me something, and that the damn award would never be given. 

But last week the paperwork finally fell into the right hands, and so the thesis made it's way from my desk draw to the relevant office, and yesterday a headed piece of paper confirmed that it was done, months after the actual writing and editing and work. 

So now I'm not just a jam lady, I'm Dr jam lady! (Wow, wouldn't it be amazing to have a PhD in jam?! Perhaps that should be my next aspiration?) 

For all the relief that it is finally done, there is now a huge gaping hole where it used to be. I know people who have spend years battling with their thesis, and when they finish it is with a cheer that they say goodbye to the project, and often to academia as a whole. 

I don't have that. I wish I was back at the beginning, starting over again, about to embark on wonderful years of reading and research. I miss it so much, and I want it back! I am beginning to realise that perhaps finishing early wasn't something I should have aspired too, and that I should have spent more time stretching it out. 

I have spent most of my life waiting for the day when I would be awarded my doctorate. Pretty much my entire education was planned with exactly this in mind. Now I've run out of plan and I'm at a bit of a loss. 

I think I might go home and make jam...

The Jamvangelist

So according to my sources the talk went well. Okay, so my sources are mostly my Mum and N, but I'm fine with that. People laughed (in the right places) people asked questions, and it seems I might even have inspired a few to make their own jam. Oh, and everyone raved about the jam and preserve based-cakes which was great. (Well, kind of, I was slightly hoping I'd have more to bring home, rather than the odd curd tart case and cookie crumb!)

I'd say that's a successful piece of jamvangelism, wouldn't you?!

Speaking of which, for those of who you might be reading and want to know more about preserving, I thought I would recommend a few things. I'm sorry that they will be UK specific in most cases, but that's just what I know, and I only want to recommend things I use and trust.  This book has all the basics, and some very good adaptable recipes. You don't need to get bogged down in all the technical stuff, but it explains it all. It doesn't have big glossy photos like modern books, but I've found it an excellent tool whilst learning to preserve. The only thing I would say though, is to ignore some of the things she says about setting point. Trust your instincts on it. Oh, and if it doesn't set the first time, whack it back in the pan and try again. What she says about how if you don't get the set right the first time meaning all is lost is rubbish. Trust me, I've re-boiled many a time in the pursuit of the perfect set!

Another great option is this book. This time with pictures, and a wonderful guide to what fruits are available when (well, when in the UK). I have made many many recipes from this book and only once was I disappointed (my redcurrant jelly was brick, not jelly as I found the estimate for set just wrong). It's good because it has a good range of preserves, and so not that many recipes for each, but techniques for jam, jelly, curd, chutney, bottled fruits and fruit drinks.

I now have a ridiculous collection of preserving books. It's outnumbered by the baking books, but only just! Each has it's own charm, and each has favourite recipes in, but the above two are what I started with, and helped a lot getting the basics down before I moved into the realms of experimentation (which has been interesting, and featured many a preserve that hasn't made it onto the blog for obvious reasons!) 

As for equipment, I'd stress that you really don't need to spend lots of money. For small batches all you really need is a heavy-based large saucepan, a wooden spoon and a cold plate (to use for testing set). You can recycle old jars as long as you wash and sterilise both the jar and the lid. However, if you do decide it's something you'd like to pursue more, then the easiest and best place for UK jam equipment in my opinion is Lakeland. You can order online, they are very affordable, and have the best customer service I have ever come across. I would say however, that I can't recommend the sugar thermometer they stock. I had one and after two washes the numbers had washed off. Instead, try and get a brass one which has the numbers etched into it. Harder to clean, but will last you forever. BUT, you don't have to have a themometer, and I no longer use one when preserving, I do it all by instinct, and the more you make the more you will too, I'm sure.

I want to say a massive thank you to everyone who came and listened to my tales of jam making, blogging and packaging jam to send across the world. I really hope that I managed to express just how much fun preserving is, and how great the people are that I've met through the jammin' jelly exchange, and all the other random jam connections I have made.

If nothing else I managed to inspire myself, and have had recipes running around my head for days! It's clearly time to dust of the preserving pan and get going again. Who's with me?...

Eight days a week....

"ain't got nothing but love babe, eight days a week..." 

This tune has been running round and round my head for about a fortnight now. I don't think I heard it anywhere. I think it just appeared around the point at which I made a potentially controversial, and quite possibly completely mad decision. 

I've given up my lovely relaxing four day week. Yes, I've relinquished my Friday of Freedom in favour of returning not to five days, but six. Yes, I know it sounds like insanity. That's probably because it is. But an opportunity arose which was too good to pass up, and so I've taken a second job. It's different, and fun, and somehow I've still managed to keep lazy mornings. But gosh it's tiring!

I have no idea how long these six day weeks will last, as the situation in one job is rather precarious, and the second did in fact start as potential contingency for the first. But for now my weekends are down to one very very precious day. 

I'm really hoping it won't mean things slow down here (well, more than they already have), but please be patient if the updates aren't quite as thick and fast as in the old four day week times! 

I have been baking during my few spare hours. Lots. I made bread, and cookies and roasted rhubarb. I've potted up plants and planted more, and gave some serious quality time to Sniff. None of which got photographed. Instead I have littered todays post with pictures taken while we were away during Easter. Yes, we kept that quiet didn't we! A very lovely jaunt into the country, with lots of peace, lots of quiet, and more than a bit of walking through beautiful surroundings in search of pubs. It was a fabulous break, and feels even more deserved now than it did then. 

It also showed where my head truly is most of the time. We packed four bags of food, including pre-measured ingredients for baking, and when we got there I discovered I hadn't packed the toothpaste! Such is the life of a food blogger...

Out of focus

Is exactly how I feel at the moment. Blurry round the edges.
I will be back soon hopefully, with a cake to share, but for the moment I need to do some hiding under the duvet...

It's the little things he does...

Stashed

My collection of wool is growing at a much faster rate than I can knit it up. Oops!

Four days a week.

After battling with my conscience, my finances and finally my managers, I have gone down to working four days a week.It's a decision that has made me happier than I've been in a long time. You see, at the start I loved my job. It was new, and challenging, and quite frankly it put off the inevitable post-studying "oh my goodness what on earth do I want to do with my life?!" panic. Then as time went on I realised that actually, I can't hack the 9-5. I just can't do the sitting in front of computer screen all day (ironic given that I spent three years doing that everyday whilst writing the phd), it was actually beginning to make me depressed.

So I did some sums, and some pondering, and some more sums, and even more pondering, and decided that perhaps four days a week would make it all easier. Sod the money, it's about the well being, as N pointed out to me.
Yesterday was my first of my new free Fridays. I almost danced around the flat whilst doing simple tasks such as cleaning the hob, and putting on yet another load of washing. I finally finished a quilt, the top of which I'd had sitting in a box for almost four months. I made us a treat for the weekend breakfasts. And then I took delivery of 96 beautiful new jars. Because you can never put enough things in jars.

I am going to use this time to make some plans. To do even more pondering (if it was an Olympic event I'd be right up there, I'm definitely in the world record region of ponderers), and hopefully make some decisions. I shall also put lots of things in lots of jars.
Wishing a very happy weekend to you all.

Where I'm going...

Well, there's no denying it, it really is 2010. We welcomed in the year in our pyjamas with hot toddies, curled up on the sofa with our favourite film. Colds or otherwise we're no longer the big party types, preferring instead to sip and laugh the new year in under a thick quilt, stroking the cat and trying to explain that the fireworks can't hurt if he stays right where he is.

This morning was just as relaxed (ahem, lazy) with much of it spent under the duvet dozing and sipping lemsip. Showers and lunch however did prompt a quite flurry of activity, to match the flurry of snow that dusted the garden. Christmas crockery tucked away, a rearrangement of glasses - less wine glasses in reach, more tumblers - and the pleased discovery of a place to put our new teapot. Just the kind of start to the year we party animals like!
I'm not really one for resolutions. I know I'll break them unless I'm really determined, and usually those decisions are left for after the depths of winter. Cold, grey, damp weather that invariably makes up the British new year is no time to ditch the well needed creature comforts of red wine and baked goods in rash resolutions to ditch the gained Christmas pounds and ounces. I'd much rather keep that layer of pudge thank you, I'll need it to keep me warm at the bus stop on dark mornings. I can worry about it once the blush of spring arrives and the winter layers are discarded.

Instead this year, I have some general notions - they're not rules, more like guidelines! There will be big changes a-foot, and I think it's time. I think it's going to be an interesting year, potentially a difficult year, but one that will be filled with fun, laughter and all sorts of nice things. I hope to see old friends a lot more, for coffee and wine and chats like we used to, I want to see new friends more too, for similar times filled with beverages and gossip. I want to continue to use the best of my time, to learn new skills and develop old ones. And of course I want to continue experimenting in the kitchen. An ice cream maker, and pasta machine are going to make that pretty fun I think!

And whatever 2010 brings, I hope to be there to meet it head on with N next to me to make me laugh and tell me I'm a big silly when I cry!

I think it's going to be a good one, I hope you do too. Let's go get em!

Where I've been...

Nearly 2010? What!? Where did the year go? As someone in the office commented a few weeks ago "it can't be nearly 2010, that's the future!"

I was hoping I'd make it to 300 posts before the year was out, but it turns out the fates were against me, so I shall finish the year on 298, with some reflections on where I've been, and a totally random recipe for some damn fine ice cream. Because despite what N says, there is no weather too cold for ice cream, especially not when it's your first ever homemade batch, it's rather tasty, and you're tucked up on the sofa with cricket highlights!It's been quite the year here in the North London Kitchen. It was the year I went public with the blog, and as a result I have met some really special and lovely people. I thank you for coming into my little corner of the interwebs and coaxing me out of my comfort zone to meet you, or write to you. It goes without saying that this blog wouldn't be what it is without the people who pop in and say hello. You have made the year very special indeed. Thank you.

In the wider world of the North London Kitchen it's been quite the year as well. I managed to travel to three countries, sell my products on Covent Garden, watch one of my closest friends get married at the most beautiful wedding, and then watch the newly married couple cut a cake I had made in front of their guests. All the while in the background I was hurriedly battling with words to meet my PhD deadline (done! wow!), whilst trying to learn even more about gardening, and thinking about where on earth my future might take me. I got my first ever 9-5 job, and somehow still managed to learn how to quilt and continue on my knitting and sewing quest (don't ask about the knitting, I still have yet to make a successful garment, although my scarves and gloves are coming on some!).

I'm not sure how I managed it all, and reading that back I'm beginning to understand why by body has given in to a bad cold and forced me into bed for the final day of the year. Now I get why I feel exhausted!

This week I made my final and controversial act of the year, which perhaps implies where I might go next. In a dramatic change of form I had my hair cut. Not just trimmed, but chopped off a full eight inches! It went from my waist to just below my shoulders. If I'd have done that this time last year I'd have cried and cried to see it gone. But right now it feels like the right time.And on that note I give you ice cream, because it's always the right time for ice cream!

I was very lucky as Father Christmas (the northern branch) left me a Kitchenaid ice cream bowl for Christmas. It is something I had long admired, and so have spend a year collecting any and every ice cream recipe from magazine, "just in case." My patience won out, and on Boxing day we tucked into fresh homemade damson ice cream! I had damsons tucked away in the freezer for such an occasion, but if you don't you could use plums, or any deep rich berry.This recipe if very loosly adapted from a Nigel Slater one. What's below is for a very small batch, but it can easily be doubled.

Damson Ice cream - serves 2 generously

250g damsons
2 large egg yolks
100g caster sugar
125ml double cream
125ml natural yoghurt
2 tablespoons of champagne or dry white wine

Place the damsons and wine in a pan and cook over a gentle heat for about 10 minutes, or until you have a good amount of juices. Push the mixture through a fine sieve until you only have the stones and skins left. Leave the puree to cool completely.

Beat the egg yolks and sugar until pale and creamy. Warm the cream in a saucepan and then add to the egg mix, stirring constantly. Rinse and dry the saucepan, and then return the egg and cream mixture to it, and heat gently to form a custard. Stirring constantly so it doesn't get too hot. It is ready when just thick enough to coat the back of a wooden spoon.

Immediately transfer to a bowl in shallow sink of cold water, again, stirring the whole time. This will stop it curdling. Leave until cold.

Mix together the damson puree, custard and yoghurt. The pour into your ice cream maker and freeze as per the instructions and then transfer to the freezer. If you don't have an ice cream maker, place the mixture in a tupperware and put in the freezer. Remove every hour and beat the frozen edges into the middle until desired consistancy is reached. It won't be quite as creamy as that made in a machine, but it will still taste great!

I found that it needs to be removed from the freezer a good 30 minutes before serving, in order to be soft enough to scoop.

"one day we'll all look back on this and laugh..."

..So, apparently things get worse before they get better.

new flight delayed by five hours...flight home cancelled...new flight booked, again, then a text to say it was cancelled...finally arrived home a day late, to discover I wasn't paid this month.

And.....breathe.

Not quite the relaxing stress-free run up to Christmas we had hoped for. But we are thankful for the small things, and the not so small things, like not having been booked on the Eurostar, having family to entertain us with card games and whiskey, a cat who loves us despite the fact that we couldn't get home to him, a friend and a neighbour who were happy to look in on the cat and be messed around because we were, friends who listened to us moan, and bought us drinks, and made us laugh all night.And being home on Christmas eve, in our lovely flat, with a beautiful tree full of decorations that remind us of people and places that we love.

The halls are decked, and so it's time to bake the gingerbread, mull the wine, have a bath and let the relaxing festivities begin.

I hope you are all surrounding by the friends and family that you love. Have a very merry Christmas, and thank you for reading my little corner of the interwebs. Normal service will resume after all the mince pies have been eaten and the recycling put out!

Out of Action

Sometimes you just have days (ahem, weeks) when the world seems out to get you. I had plans for lovely posts this December, but it seems to be the 19th, and my blog remains sparse. Why? Well, it started with work getting incredibly busy, throw into that a round of pre-Christmas parental visits, and a list of outstanding Christmas presents long enough to make even the saner amongst us weep, and you begin to get an idea of how my December has been shaping up. Now, granted, this is probably exactly how everyone else's is going. But I haven't gotten to the good bit yet!

Last weekend, whilst potting in my parents brand new beautiful kitchen I started playing with some settings on my camera. I decided to do some black and white, and I was really pleased with them. So, after the six and a half hour drive home I eagerly fired up the laptop to blog about them. Oh no, my memory card had other ideas! No pictures to be found. Not only were the black and whites missing, but about a hundred others, including the ones of the delicious port and prune brownies I was going to include in said post. I was not amused. So I was nervous about using that memory card to take pictures, and of course, could I find my spare, of course I couldn't. Almost a week passed before I was able to do anything.

Then yesterday was the final straw. Trying to fly out to Europe over Christmas is always a tough haul. Especially when the flights you have are with a budget airline, because they were the only ones you could get. Add snow into the mix, and you have total chaos. Trains don't run, planes don't fly, and heaven forbid anyone should be on hand at the airport to help you. We waited and waiting, and were finally told that all flights were cancelled and we should go home. Cue a battle back across London and a whole bunch of upset family members. Then we made the mistake of getting online to claim our compensation, only to discover our flight had actually taken off.

Angry doesn't cover it. So today, we try again. Different airline, different airport. And goddamnit I don't care how long I have to wait, but we are getting to France tonight, no matter what.

Er, yes, so that's why I haven't posted. I will have to leave you today with the only festive picture I have managed to snap, and the promise (yet again) that there is more on it's way next week when I finally get to breathe again.

I hope you're all having better runs up to Christmas, and in the midst of your own baking/shopping/entertaining chaos, you are managing to enjoy a huge glass of mulled wine and a whole host of chocolate goodies.

p.s. During the writing of this post my computer crashed. Seriously, the world is against me right now!

A change of heart; or, a realisation of limitations (at the moment).

Alas, I come to you today with a downcast look. I have something to admit, and I'm not quite sure I'm okay with it yet.

I won't be opening the shop tomorrow. In fact, I won't be opening this year.

I was jubilant, I was baking, melting, mixing, packaging and photographing like mad, and then slowly amidst this haze the reality began to hit. There was no way I was ready. I wanted it so, so badly, I've been clinging to the idea with all my strength as I am desperate to start my road to working from home and working for myself. But sometimes you need to stand back, and see things from a distance and admit to yourself that you were wrong, and now is not the time.Last week threw up a chunk of extra work. Not entirely unexpected, but the amount of which has caught me a little off guard. Coupled with this I will be organising Christmas at home this year as a working lady for the first time. I no longer have hours in the house, pottering around getting everything just so, or browsing the markets for that perfect little gift. Instead I will be joining the hordes of shoppers battling with the besieged high street in the rain after work. So this weekend when the sudden realisation hit, that actually, diving headlong into a business venture, just three weeks before Christmas might not be the best idea I've ever had, for once I stood back and decided to say "no". I don't like it, but the reality is that when I do this, I want to do it right. I want to have lovely photographs of products I really and truly believe are worth (hopefully) shipping all over the world. I can't do this at a canter in the middle of trying to buy presents, bake/sew/knit gifts, and spend two weekends out of three on pre-Christmas parental visits.
So, it will be a little longer until I try and take over the world (ahem, my little corner of the web at least), but I promise you it is my goal of the new year, and it will be bigger and better than it could have been before. Plus, shipping might be a tad more reliable once this pesky Christmas malarkey is over!

I hope you will bare with me, and I hope if you do it will be worth it.

Phew, now I've got that off my chest I feel a little better. I'm hoping a prune and port brownie will help me relax even more...photos and recipe tomorrow!