‘Make a gingerbread house. In February. Or at Easter. Whatever happens, before Christmas 2012!’ Well, we didn’t make it before Christmas 2012, but we certainly did it before January the first, 2013. I think it crowned the year for my entire family – as in husband, myself and the children as we built the gingerbread house from […]
These were the very first things I baked. And by that I mean the very first thing I baked as an adult. Adulthood haven being attained with marriage and childbirth. Sure I’d baked the odd cake, cookie even as a child, but none of those count in the newness of being that is adulthood. Something […]
No corny statements about how quickly Christmas has come this year.No, none. Only cake. A fruit cake. The likes of which I’ve never made before. Dreamt of making….yes but one of those dreams which die hard and early. I grew up with Fruitcakes every Christmas, lovingly made by Mrs O, a friend of my mum’s. […]
I’ve always wanted to make a terrine so when Penny tooted the International Incident Party horn, I danced to her tune. A year ago, I updated my library with a purchase of Franck Pontais’s book ‘Terrines & Verrines’– one of the few English books (the other mostly in French) on the subject of those two […]
Rhema. The revelation word. A-ha moments – they happen every day. Simple statements filled with deep insights which cause one to take pause and reflect.
So I teased you in my last post about ‘Coming to America’. Its all part of my bubbling excitement because the fartherest west I’ve been is Barbados – I know, its not a bad bookend. Now, I am glad, just like Eddie Murphy was in his film version ‘Coming to America’.
A home full of guests was how we planned this holiday – friends from Houston would pot sunshine and Texas steaks, stuffing them in bulging blue Samsonite cases, while friends from Nigeria would come armed with Kilishi (Nigerian beef jerky) and peppered plantain chips; we, in the Netherlands would provide the snow, sleighs and bells.
Or Mispels according to the Dutch. Also known as Japanese medlar, not to be confused with that other sort of fruit, also called medlar, requiring rotting and bletting to reach edible status. It took me a year to find out what the English name for Mispels was. I first came across them in a market […]
It could have worked out. For days before I made it, I dreamt and searched for recipes which used meringues instead of pastry pie shells. No dice. Still I went ahead, I could see it, smell it, taste it. The individual elements were great – meringues, orange curd and chocolate ganache.