January started off at its usual crawl then got a wiggle on. I didn't do too much out of the culinary ordinary for the first half of the month. I found a recipe for a marmalade fruit cake that I remembered making years ago. The recipe turned out to be in our old M&S cookery book, bought in 1983. Not an exciting recipe but it was a good way of using up some rather dull shop-bought marmalade. (As an aside, I thought my handful of readers might be interested in the spouse's marmalade venture. He even designed his own jar labels.)
Later in the month I travelled to North-East England to look after my youngest sibling (I can't remember my earlier pseudonym for her so I'll call her "T Rex" for now). She broke her leg before Christmas and is enduring enforced rest at home. Anyway, my other sister J'Zo gallantly took care of T Rex for ten days then I jetted over for five days. It gave me a great opportunity to try out various recipes: Rick Stein's egg molee, macaroni cheese and prawn risotto.
Better still, I baked for an enthusiastic audience of Muttleys: morning muffins and cheese and walnut scones (both from Norfolk's Own Cookbook), shortbread (1001 Cupcakes, Cookies & Tempting Treats) and fruit scones (National Trust Book of Scones). But it was my fellow diva Nigella who helped me earn my international cooking award: peanut butter and Snickers muffins (How to Be a Domestic Goddess: The Art of Baking and Comfort Cooking, first published in 2000). I made them again today ... But I'm jumping ahead of myself.
Changing the subject to bees
Last year J'zo had to have a colony of bees removed from a chimney in her house. The photos she shared of the great smokey slabs of honeycomb that had developed and damaged the chimney were awe-inspiring.
Here are some lines from Bees by Menka Shivdasani, an Indian poet. The full poem is published in All the Worlds Between: A Collaborative Poetry Project between India and Ireland (edited by K Srilata and Fiona Bolger):
Now I carry their sweetness squeezed into a jar,
alone again, except for that one queen bee
who keeps flapping about
wondering where her home disappeared.
As usual, I'm keeping it short and sweet.
Until next time.
Minnie
 |
| Muttleys with cheese and walnut scones and fruit scones |
Later in the month I travelled to North-East England to look after my youngest sibling (I can't remember my earlier pseudonym for her so I'll call her "T Rex" for now). She broke her leg before Christmas and is enduring enforced rest at home. Anyway, my other sister J'Zo gallantly took care of T Rex for ten days then I jetted over for five days. It gave me a great opportunity to try out various recipes: Rick Stein's egg molee, macaroni cheese and prawn risotto.
 |
| Muttleys with peanut butter and Snickers scones |
Changing the subject to bees
Last year J'zo had to have a colony of bees removed from a chimney in her house. The photos she shared of the great smokey slabs of honeycomb that had developed and damaged the chimney were awe-inspiring.
Here are some lines from Bees by Menka Shivdasani, an Indian poet. The full poem is published in All the Worlds Between: A Collaborative Poetry Project between India and Ireland (edited by K Srilata and Fiona Bolger):
Now I carry their sweetness squeezed into a jar,
alone again, except for that one queen bee
who keeps flapping about
wondering where her home disappeared.
As usual, I'm keeping it short and sweet.
Until next time.
Minnie
Comments
Post a Comment