New friends

One of the wonderful side effects of writing this blog is that I’ve made new virtual friends and discovered new people who are on the same wavelength as me, or who inspire me to be a better and more creative people.

One of these new friends is Chica Andaluza who lives the kind of life I’d love to live, maybe in a few years.  She lives up a mountain in Spain and grows her own food and shares her adventures, culinary or otherwise on her very delightful blog. If you’ve not checked her out yet and love food and a simpler life, I suggest you meander over there with a glass of wine and enjoy.

Picture shamelessly borrowed from Chica Andaluza...con muchas gracias

Whilst coveting her Pot au Poulet today and eating soup inspired by her recent posts for a lunctime respite from French grammar, I clicked over to the link she’d posted for Food, Photography and France.

Picture courtesy of food, photography and France...avec mes remerciements les plus sincères

I swear if he sewed and knitted I’d be convinced he has my perfect French country life.  As is… it comes pretty darned close. In my dreams I can cook like this and take photos like this.  As he does photography holidays in France this is at least one area that I could improve just a little bit (hint! hint! to The Husband for next years holiday!)

I’m off to purchase his ebook and am now convinced that I need an iPad…just to read his eBook at it’s best.  I’ve been resisitent to an iPad for forever. C’est la vie!

On tarte au citron

For Pa SIL’s birthday dinner I made tarte au citron.

We finished the leftovers this week and this is the conversation I had with The Husband about it:

TH:   Why do you make tarte au citron in the tarte tatin tin?

Why not use the big pie dish?

(mumbled through mouthfuls of an inordinately large serving of

lemony loveliness)

Me:  Because the big pie dish is too big.

TH:  Well, you know the answer to that one……

(said with a wink and a smile)

Reader, he didn’t mean buy a smaller pie dish!

I think he likes my tarte!

PS.  The recipe I use is from Trish Deseine’s delicious book Nobody Does It Better.

Simple squash soup

The leaves are starting to edge themselves with gold, the days are uncharacteristically sunny and the air is crisp cool rather than the habitually dripping cold.

Autumn really does bring out the best in me.  The crisp air suits me and sunshine can only enhance your mood.

As the season turns I once again feel the urge for soup.

Velvety. Warming. Comforting.  A little spicy.

My absolutely favourite autumn soup is butternut squash.Little amber cubes of comfort and deliciousness.

Just add a little salt, pepper, oil.  Maybe a little garlic if an overzealous husband hasn’t thrown it out when he kindly cleaned the kitchen at the weekend.  Maybe a sprinkle of cumin seeds for spice.

Really, just add whatever takes your fancy.  The squash won’t mind.  It likes the company.Roast them gently in the oven.  Probably about 150 deg c.  Perhaps for about an hour.  They’ll let you know when they’re ready.  They’ll be soft and hopefully a little crispy at the edges.

Add the best stock you can get your mitts on.  I usually have homemade chicken stock in the freezer.  Today I haven’t.  I must roast a chicken at the weekend.  Chicken dinner and chicken stock.  It would be rude not to!

A  stock cube will do the trick. Two if you’re making a big batch from more than one squash.Then blend the heck out of it until it’s smooth and creamy.  You might need to add more stock or water at this point, but that’s ok.  If you like your soup thinner, add more….less if you like a thick, unctuous soup.

This is how I served mine today.  

With sandwiches.

But you could add some cream.

Or some crispy bacon.

Or some fresh crusty bread.

It’s up to you.

But I would urge you not to omit serving some to the small people.Because whilst they’ll happily ignore vegetables on a plate (or throw them at you if they’re in that sort of mood), in a bowl of soup it’s a completely different story:And vegetables inside a small person rather than in the bin (or in my hair) makes me a very happy mummy.

Bramble and apple crumble cake

Your wish is my command…here’s the recipe for the bramble and apple crumble cake.

I’ve already passed it on to a couple of friends who requested it and they’ve had much success with it.  I hope you do too.

For the cake mixture:

150g softened butter

150g caster sugar

3 large eggs

75g plain flour

1½ tsp baking powder

110g ground almonds

2 or 3 eating apples – or more to your taste – peeled, cored and cut into thin slices

150g blackberries

For the topping

100g butter

100g plain flour

110g Demerara sugar

2 tbsps whole rolled oats, or more if you like a more oaty topping

1.  Line a 20cm spring-form cake tin.  Preheat the oven to 180^o/gas 4.
2. Make the cake:
3. Cream the softened butter and sugar until light and fluffy.
4. Break the eggs into a bowl and beat lightly with a fork, then add them little by little to the butter and egg sugar, beating well between each addition.
5. Sieve the flour and baking powder together and gently fold into the butter mixture.
6. Gently fold the almonds into the mixture.
7. Spoon the mixture into the cake tin and smooth the top.
8. Top the mixture with apple slices and blackberries, pressing them into the mixture slightly
9. Make the crumble:
10. Rub the butter into the flour, then stir in the sugar and oats. Sprinkle the crumble mixture over the top of the cake. Sprinkle with caster sugar for a crunchy top if desired.
11. Bake in the oven for about an hour until a skewer pushed into the cake comes out clean (it will be slightly wet from the fruit but will have no cake mixture on it).
12. Leave to cool.
13. Eat.
14. Enjoy.

I have to admit that this isn’t an original recipe…but sadly I have no idea of the original source.

If this is your recipe please let me know and I’ll be happy to give you the credit you so richly deserve.

 

 

 

 

Goodbye, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Adieu

Yesterday Ma Stitches and I went on a road trip to Johnny Looloos and The Patchwork Chicks, with a spot of lunch at a not very greasy spoon.

You’ll recall that I wanted to buy some interfacing for the mini bridesmaids dresses.  Turns out I can only get it at Johnny Looloos.  So off we went.

The lovely lady pulled it out and then came the kicker.  £6.50 per metre.

I needed 5 metres.  Eek.  Suddenly the frugal Von Trapp Family Bridesmaids Dresses were not looking quite so cost effective.

And then I saw it.

Sapphire satin

It’s just the most glorious colour and only £6.00 a metre.

A bit of a no brainer.  So the Von Trapp Family Bridesmaids Dresses are relegated to the “what a great idea but rubbish in practice” box.  And I’m back to the drawing board.  Thankfully I have two whole days next week where Ma and Ma-in-Law have offered to look after the wee small children so I can have whole days of sewing.  I am blessed and what a luxury.

And next to it was………..well, I can’t tell you because a certain husband-to-be reads this blog (just to check up what beans I’m spilling about him – LOL).  But needless to say you’ll see it after the 13th November.

To celebrate the new fabric I harvested the first strawberries of the summer from under the treeWhisked up some egg whites and sugarAnd made meringueAnd made pavlova.I heart Jamie Oliver

…in the lane snow is glistening…

Today we awoke to snow again.  Seasonal it may be; usual for our corner of the world it is not.

I have to own to liking the snow.  Not only for its beauty but for the silence it brings to our street.  No cars or buses bustling through.  Just a soft, white silence that encourages you to batten down the hatches and cancel all external escapades.  I realise I’m blessed that I don’t work and that Mr S can work from home.  Especially in view of the accidents that are littering the roads around us (no injuries, thankfully).

I had planned for Button to visit with her Grandma today.  I was off to the gym.  Instead she is spreading toys across the whole ground floor of the house.  I have done small, homely things that are not taxing in any way shape or form, but contribute to upcoming activities and unfinished objects.

Firstly, I’ve ordered a handmade curtain pole for the patio doors in the kitchen.  Pete at Siddington Smithy has so far been a delight to buy from.  If his pole is as lovely I’m going to be delighted.  It should be here within the next week, so we shall see.

Secondly, I ordered Brittany dpns from Rian at Fibre + Clay.

I love this little shop and a trip here, accompanied by coffee and cake at the Courtyard Coffee House is a perfect way to while away a few hours.  I decided to see if they could post out some needles to me, and they couldn’t have been more helpful.  The needles are on their way today.  Marvellous.  I need these for the sleeves of the Lucy cardigan and can’t wait to get on and get it finished.

“Chores” done there was only one thing left for a girl to do:If you think the date and oat cookies look at tad “wholesome”, don’t be fooled. They are soft and chewy and divinely delicious.  Mr S thinks he should work from home more often!  If you feel the urge to bake today, try these.  It’s so easy to whip up a batch and they’ll be perfect with tea and knitting this afternoon.

That’s my plan, anyway!

Date and Oat Cookies

90g butter

3/4 cup packed soft brown sugar

2/3 cup plain flour

3/4 teaspoon baking soda

1.1/2 cups oats (I prefer Jordan’s Organic or Scotts’ Porage Oats – both are nice and chunky)

1/2 teaspoon of salt

1 egg – lightly beaten (I always use large)

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 cup of pitted dates – chopped into small pieces

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees.  Melt the butter in a saucepan.  Remove from the heat and add the sugar.  Stir until smooth.  Put all the dry ingredients into a mixing bowl and stir to combine.  Add the butter mixture to the dry ingredients and mix well.  Now add the egg and vanilla and stir until all ingredients are well mixed and there are no dry bits left.  Spoon the mixture onto a greased or lined baking sheet and bake for 12 minutes until golden.

Try and leave to cool before scoffing the lot!

(Recipe adapted from Cooking Light)

All steamed up

Yesterday was Advent Sunday, which traditionally, Chez Stitches, marks the beginning of the Christmas festivities with the preparation of the Christmas Pudding.

This is tradition not without it’s moments of hilarity.

The first year I made it I completely misread the recipe and had to stay up until 1am steaming the pudding.  I set the alarm for every hour in case I fell asleep. I didn’t want the pan to boil dry.

Last year I blew up a blender and a food processor making the breadcrumbs.

This year…well, it all went strangely smoothly.

We gathered a bowlful of tasty ingredients:We stirred and we wished:We steamed for 8 hours:Et voila…All ready for Christmas lunch.   Delish!

Winter Warmer

Whilst I don’t often blog about cooking, I do cook a lot in real life.

There’s the day-to-day stuff of roast chickens, chilli, spaghetti carbonara…the stuff I can do with my eyes closed and still Mr S thinks it’s a marvel to come home to a cooked meal.

Then there’s the weekend stuff that either needs a little more time and dexterity, although I tend to eschew these in f(l)avour of slow cooked, rustic, oftentimes French food…daube of beef, venison in red wine, boeuf bourguignon.

This weekend Alice-who-isn’t-a-cat came to stay for just one night, and it was typically wet and windy here.  In my book that’s time for something warm and hearty and comforting.  And if it’s ingredients could give you gout as well, that’s an added bonus. Cue Butternutty Penne Pasta with Sage:

Image courtesy of dailymail.co.uk

It turned out looking like the picture, which is a minor miracle, and tastes divine (according to Mr S and AWIAC). Mr S was also happy to eat the leftovers for supper the following day.

But don’t take my word for it.  It’s still cold today…give it a try.

Bus pass birthday

Oh, I’m so in trouble for that post title!

Halloween is Pa Stitches-in-Law’s birthday.

We always find it to be a jolly good excuse to hide in the kitchen, avoid the trick-or-treaters, and eat too much chocolate cake.

It’s always chocolate cake.  A new family tradition.

This year was a special birthday, and as there were more of us than I can comfortably sit around my table, we decamped to our local hostelry for a family lunch.

But just because we’re away from home, there is no need to deprive the birthday boy of his anticipated chocolatey goodness, now is there?

Rehab

After the fabulous outing in London on Tuesday, I didn’t think the day could get any better, as we were staying in Colliers Wood, not renowned for it’s high life.  And neither Mr S or myself really fancied schlepping back up to town to eat.  Nor did we feel like driving to Wimbledon Village, the nearest place we thought we’d get a decent meal.  

We finally decided to do a quick walk round the locale and then if, as we suspected, there wasn’t a restaurant we’d be happy to eat in, then takeaway it would be.  There’s plenty of choice of those!

As we left the hotel and crossed the road the two choices for eating out both looked decidedly unhealthy, and empty.  Empty is never a good sign in my book.  When abroad I always look for restaurants that are bustling as an indicator of some hope of a good meal – I didn’t see any reason to change that rationale in the wilds of Colliers Wood.   So we turned back to the hotel with the only hope that whatever we found to take back to the hotel would be hot and reasonably edible.

And then we spied it.  A tiny restaurant frontage – demur wooden windows and door, incongruous in the  surrounding gaudy neon and offers of “chic n chips” (I kid ye not!).

Mr S was sceptical.  ”Who names a restaurant ‘Rehab‘?”

I dragged him to the menu.  A tantalising selection of pasta and pizza, and probably more.  I didn’t stop to look, just pushed the door open and inhaled the welcoming buzz of voices and scent of garlic.  I didn’t care who named it, I was sold.

Inside this bijou restaurant was a lively, but not overwhelming, buzz of conversation, with a background of 1950′s style music, just loud enough to ensure you could hear your conversation but not everyone elses.

The staff welcomed us like long lost friends, and before long, Vincent, the owner, had a bottle of Merlot on the table, and our order for the specials on his pad.

And special they were.  Scallops with a side of mushrooms in a balsamic sauce for Mr S, prawns and chorizo for me.  I have no words for how divinely scrumptious they were.  If I could have licked the plate without being seen, I think I may have just done so.

Pasta dishes followed.  Fillet steak and cherry tomatoes for Mr S, more prawns and cherry tomatoes for me.  Cooked to perfection and such generous portions that even Mr S balked and left some on the plate.

The only disappointment of the evening was that we couldn’t for shame squeeze dessert in.  

We had a wonderful time…so much so that Mr S, who isn’t fond of lingering in restaurants once the eating is done, happily sat back in his chair, ordered coffees and chilled for another hour.  A perfect, and perfectly unexpected date.

Pictures courtesy of rehabpizza.co.uk