Going Grey

Earl grey ice cream and shortbread

Lately, I have dreamt in custard. Lying in bed last night, I could have sworn I could smell the faint boozy hum of vanilla, the richness of eggs and cream. It’s not surprising. Over the last month, custard and I have become pretty well – if reluctantly – acquainted.

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Jam Today

Scroll buns + jam

In Alice Through The Looking Glass, the White Queen offers Alice ‘jam tomorrow’:

‘It’s very good jam,’ said the Queen.

‘Well, I don’t want any TO-DAY, at any rate.’

‘You couldn’t have it if you DID want it,’ the Queen said. ‘The rule is, jam to-morrow and jam yesterday – but never jam to-day.’

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Hope Springs Eternal (or at least from January to June)

Rhubarb and custard tart

Jane Grigson does not like rhubarb. Jane Grigson does not like rhubarb at all.

Her Fruit Book is a delightful and beautiful thing: each chapter is a paeon to an individual fruit, listed in alphabetical order. All, that is, apart from her chapter on rhubarb. That chapter is something to behold: a barely disguised invective against rhubarb, laced with vitriol. Yes, there are recipes within the chapter, but each speaks of flavours that will ‘improve’ or ‘ameliorate’ rhubarb, and are littered with caveats.And don’t get her started on rhubarb and custard: one two line instruction exists and begins with the fatal line ‘if you must have rhubarb with custard’.  The entire chapter drips with disdain and derision.

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Gentlemen Prefer Blondies

Blondies

My intention to medicate all autumnal malaises and maladies with appropriate food has been… stalled somewhat.

I put my back out making meringues. Or rather, I thought I had put my back out making meringues. Last Sunday, I was making meringues and something very odd happened to my back and it hurt a lot.

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