I invented these bad guys because I really dislike making traditional pancakes. Delicate thin batter getting stuck to the pan, wedging itself into odd shapes, lumps, burnt bits. The whole experience makes me hot, sweaty and angry. Especially as I am usually over-caffeinated, flapping around …
Hey friends, how are you all hanging in there? Okay I do hope. We are trucking along well Ngaio. The cats remain delighted with having their humans on tap. The husband remains delighted with our hard-working craft beer industry and its willingness to home-deliver. And …
Sometimes, despite the best of intentions, fruit can go a little south in the fruit bowl. Things in general feel like they have gone a little south lately. This time a year ago our current COVID circumstances would have been unimaginable to pretty much all of us, bar epidemiologists and fans of apocalyptic fiction (like my husband).
I think we could all do with a little comfort baking at the moment. The apple pictured above is in these days and times cause for joy. It provides an excuse – no, it necessitates even – sweet, carb-y treats and ample butter. Of course my reaction to past-it apples is usually stewed apple for healthy porridge, but in the middle of a pandemic? Baking is the only solution.
Along with the comfort baking, I’m feeling very lucky in our little bubble. My rescue cats are in heaven, as depicted. And I’m feeling doubly lucky after the outpouring of love in response to my last post. I wish a heartfelt thanks to each and every one of you. You are all a part of my support bubble, which is particularly important when our COVID-restricted physical bubbles are much smaller.
I hope you have an apple or two languishing in your fruit bowl for these scones. Enjoy and take care.
Spiced apple scones – makes 12
Ingredients::
3 cups of plain flour
6 teaspoons of baking powder
1 teaspoon of cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon of nutmeg
1 tablespoon of brown sugar
3 apples, peeled and grated
5 tablespoons of butter
3/4 cup of milk plus a little extra for brushing
Method
Combine the flour, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg and sugar in a large bowl. Add the grated apple and stir to combine. Rub in the butter with your hands until the mixture looks crumbly.
Make a well in the centre and add the milk. Stir to combine and gather the dough together with your hands, kneading a few times until all is combined. Add a little more milk if the mixture seems dry – it can depend on the juiciness of the apples.
Sprinkle flour on a baking tray. Tip the mixture onto the tray and divide into 12 rectangular portions. Brush the tops with the extra milk.
Bake for 12 minutes or until the tops of the scones are golden brown.
Last year’s multiple hospital trips were more significant than I realised last time I wrote. It turns out that, in the long-running battle between me and infertility, infertility was winning. Well ahead, in fact. In hospital, the charge nurse stroked my needle-studded hand protectively. You …
Wheewwww so another nearly two months since my last post with some more drama in between. Two further hospital admissions, including one particularly gripping visit to the emergency room with nurses running, grabbing wheelchairs and shouting ‘code two, code two’ into the PA system, three …
WOAH. That was a month and a half.
The first section was pretty damn fine. My husband and I treated ourselves to a week in Rarotonga to celebrate getting through some rather rubbish stuff over the last wee while, and gosh it was bliss.
Rarotonga is beautiful and delightfully laid-back. You share pristine beaches with dogs and chickens, crabs scurry down burrows beneath coconut trees and pet goats wander in mango orchards. Needless to say I did not do a lot of cooking, but thanks to the bountiful tropical trees in the garden of our accommodation, I had some fun experimenting with various home-made cocktails. Bad photo below of passion-lime and vodka. It improves the more you have.
The past wee bit has been a little less fun. Long story short, some long-term side effects of last year’s fertility treatment left me with a whacking great deficit in my iron. It all got a little dramatic, ending with admission to hospital where, being woozy with anaemia, I kept trying to introduce all of the nurses to my rather worried husband and mum. Can I just say the staff of Wellington hospital do an amazing job and, several blood and iron transfusions later, I am back in my own little nest and on the way to recovery.
So, I’m sure you’ll understand that I have not been whipping up a storm, or much of anything, in my kitchen to share with you today. While I have been gadding about between hospital and Pacific islands however, my garden has been busy.
My Cape Gooseberry tree is such a little trouper. It came to me from a friend who can’t bear to get rid of any excess seedlings and I have done pretty much nothing to it, save plonking it in a terracotta pot. Despite this, it never lets me down and is currently producing an impressive bounty of fruit.
Have you ever seen a Cape Goosberry fruit before? They are like beautiful little lanterns with a bright yellow berry inside. Their taste is lovely – fleshy and a little sweet, a little like a plum in flavour, witha cheek-sucking tartness at the end. I have it on good authority they are packed with vitamin C, so a handful for morning tea is just what I need at the moment.
I have lots of planned posts coming up, including pudding with hazelnuts and some dark chocolate and ginger creations. Thanks for your patience on this one and if you get a chance to try a Cape Gooseberry, do take it.
Lots of love as always x
Do you get to feeling nibbly late afternoon? Does your mouth start watering as you fantasise about stuffing large handfuls of salt and vinegar chips into your mouth alongside stacks of delicious lovely cheese? Well, friends, have I got a deal for you. Because while …
I am busy looking after my garden, or is it looking after me? It’s working hard, growing many of my favourite treats, including raspberries, zucchinis and cucumbers. My rangy, imperfect little beginner’s garden is very restorative. I can nurture my plants and enjoy some success, …
I’m in excellent company – Wallace, Gromit and I all love Wensleydale cheese. Crumbly, dense and savoury, Wensleydale originates from Wensleydale, Yorkshire, where it began life as a ewes milk cheese made by French Cistercian monks. It’s now made across the UK from cow’s milk, although only that made in Wensleydale is permitted to call itself Yorkshire Wensleydale.
If you like cheddar I suspect you’ll like Wensleydale. It has a very similar texture and crumbles as pleasingly. It’s a little sweeter, with a hint of the sweet nuttiness of Gouda or Jarlsberg, and lighter in colour.
It goes delightfully with fruit to the extent that some brands even come studded with cranberries. In this recipe I have paired it with some raspberry wine vinegar for that fruity tartness, and some roast pepper to bring out a little sweetness. Give it a try – it’s just that little bit different from the salads many of us are filling ourselves with in this post-Christmas time of year!
Ingredients:
1 red pepper, cut into chunks
2 C salad greens
1 C lightly cooked asparagus spears (if in season)
1 T raspberry wine vinegar
3 T olive oil
Cracked pepper
75g Wensleydale cheese
Method:
Preheat the oven on to 200 degrees Celsius. Place the red pepper in an oven roasting tray, lightly drizzle with oil and cook until softened and slightly browned. Cool.
Place salad leaves and cooled pepper in salad bowl. Arrange asparagus spears around the top.
Using a cheese slice (or vegetable peeler if you don’t have a cheese slice handy!) shave the Wensleydale across the top of the salad.
Place the raspberry wine vinegar, olive oil and cracked pepper into a screw top jar and shake well until combined.
To serve, pour over the vinaigrette and toss the salad. Eat immediately.
Cheese is pretty much my number one indulgence when it comes to Christmas. I don’t say indulgence with the purpose of getting all judgmental about food (far from it – one of my main approaches in my blog is to enjoy all food without fads …