tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81682257415828221922024-02-19T02:20:28.680-08:00Lady Chutney - musings of an aspiring optimistLady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-9305065829924153012012-01-04T09:46:00.000-08:002012-01-05T07:16:59.649-08:00A Voluntary LifeI started this a while ago because people kept asking me what I was doing with my time. As I have been doing a fair amount of volunteering since being made redundant I thought I would let people know that, much as I would like it to be, my life isn't all chutney and biscuits. Volunteering isn't a new thing to me, I have been doing it since I was a teenager. <br />
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After we had been living in 'the village' a year or so I got myself a best friend. There weren't that many other thirteen year olds around so we became joined at the hip and did most things together for many a year. One day my BF developed a crush on an 'older man' which was quite exciting. She had seen him in the street one day, was smitten and so followed him to find out who he was. He happened to be the deacon of the village church and one of his duties was being part of the bell ringing group. This information resulted in my embryonic stalker BF joining said group as a novice bell ringer so that she could gaze at him in a hormonal teenage sort of way.<br />
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Unfortunately, this also meant that I, as the supportive BF, also had to join the bell ringing group because she 'couldn't possibly go on my own and you <em>are </em>my best friend!' So, hating every moment because I dislike the sound of bells intensely, I dutifully turned up every Wednesday evening to indulge in a bit of cacophony and watch my BF practise her fledgling flirting skills with the deacon who was a very nice and very married man and who dealt with the situation with great aplomb. <br />
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This fortunately extremely short lived infatuation somehow put my BF on the radar of the vicar who must have felt the best way to deal with budding hormonal female teenagers was to keep them occupied. To this end he somehow managed to keep bumping into BF and engaged in conversation she would find she had agreed to volunteer for all manner of village related endeavours. This was all very nice and fine but whilst she was agreeing to do these good works she also managed to volunteer me as well.<br />
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Thus I found myself, over a period of a couple of years or so, cooking sausages and onions in the hot dog stand, a sort of enclosed metal caravan affair, at the village fete on the hottest day of the year. We made tea for the old folks whist drive every other Friday, a Friday for goodness sake, we were teenagers supposed to be out having fun on a weekend evening. But then, we lived in a village, miles from anywhere with a barely there bus service that didn't run at night. The only thing to do on a Friday night <em>was </em>the whist drive so I suppose you could say we were at the centre of village life. I have lost count of the number of stalls I manned at countless jumble sales although I can still remember that dusty, musty smell that accompanies the emptying of peoples cupboards of stuff they have been hoarding for years. We walked miles, knocking at doors trying to sell tickets for various events so we also kept fit. <br />
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One day 'we' agreed to join the village 'entertainments soiciety' in a bid to encourage other young people to join in. And so one Christmas on the second night of the 'Winter Review' one of my ambitions went crashing to the ground as I found myself in front of many people on an empty stage. Empty that is apart from me. I wasn't supposed to be there. Moments before I had been part of a musical ensemble that had skipped off stage merrily singing a medley of tunes from the Sound of Music. Being tall I was at the back and being tall and at the back I was to be the last to smilingly skip off. Unfortunately I was unable to skip anywhere as my hair had become tangled up in the scenery of real tree branches. Every time I moved, the scenery moved with me. I had to stand there, smiling, until someone had the sense to shut the curtains and frantic efforts were made to release me without resorting to cutting my hair - I was most adamant about that! I would mention here that I was miming as I wasn't allowed to sing because people said my singing was dreadful so I was actually only there to make up the numbers and so I shouldn't have been in that scene anyway!!! The reason for my predicament being that just before I went on for the dreaded Sound of Music scene my hair had been partially backcombed in readiness for my next scene which was directly after. As part of an intergalactic beauty contest (it was the 70s ok), my hair was styled into a 'tower' and wearing someones furry hearth rug I was to walk down a few stairs and seductively invite the compare to 'come up and see me some time'. Because of my incident with the scenery there wasn't time to finish my hair properly and so as I walked down the stairs it all fell forward completely covering my face. I couldn't see where I was going so my poised, sexy glide turned into a myopic stumble as I tried to part my hair so I could see through it while at the same time clutching my rug to me as the string holding it together (no expense spared with this production) broke just as I stepped on to the stage. I wasn't wearing a great deal under the rug so I really didn't want to lose it in front of half the village. Having managed to negotiate my way down the stairs with as much dignity as I could muster I stood in front of the compare, opened my mouth and - nothing came out. I had forgotten my line. I had seven words to speak and I couldn't remember a single one of them. After standing there for what seemed like ages with my hair falling over my face, my arms rigid at my side and my mouth open I shut my mouth and in a bid to remember my line I decided to strut my stuff round the stage for a while. This decision served to highlight the compares inability to ad lib. His voice continued to rise in pitch with each utterance of 'oh she's off for a walk', 'where's she going' 'oh I think she's coming back' 'no, no she isn't'. The more he talked in a high pitched panicky voice the more nervous I became. I actually couldn't remember I was supposed to leave until eventually I noticed people waving at me from the wings and I gratefully ran towards them. This was the end of my my involvement with the entertainments society and I crossed 'become a famous actress' off the list of possible future occupations I might consider. To this day I have not seen the Sound of Music, I hate the songs and I can't abide that smug Julie Andrews.<br />
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One of the most worthwhile and enjoyable things BF and I did was to visit a girl slightly older than ourselves who had sustained a brain injury and was somewhat incapacitated because of it. Sometimes we took her out in her wheelchair but mainly we were required to visit her on a Thursday evening and help her dance to Top of the Pops, something she loved doing. Not having much in the way of balance or co-ordination this required both of us holding on to her while she boogied away in her own fashion. It made her very happy and we spent a lot of time laughing. <br />
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Then important school exams started to feature in our lives as did boys, disco's and dancing and the volunteering came to an end. <br />
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Until I was in my twenties. When I was twenty I moved into a huge house full of lovely people one of whom, GH, helped in the local Cheshire Home taking the residents out for trips in a bus. They were always looking for volunteers to help out so, under my own steam this time, I volunteered and off we went, the residents, GH and me. Our trips were mainly to the seaside where we had a lot of fun. <br />
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GH later married my friend PB. Their son, F, was born with muscular dystrophy and my volunteering began in earnest when he was no longer able to get around on his own any more. I held raffles at work to raise money to help buy him a computer for his school work and an electric wheel chair.<br />
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I have manned stalls at fairs, fetes and jumble sales for muscular dystrophy and other organisations. I did a sponsored walk for Brittle Bones in a heatwave, wearing a jumper and the most unsuitable pair of shoes ever (it's a long story). I've gardened for the elderly and mentored the young. I've baked cakes and made buckets of tea.<br />
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We lost F when he was 17, I went to uni as a mature student that year and then after graduating began working for 'that place' and because of the studying I had to do on top of working I didn't have the time or later the energy to volunteer anymore.<br />
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Once I had recovered from the shock of being made redundant there followed the realisation that I wasn't going to be able to just walk into a job as not only were they were a bit scarce but there was an awful lot of competition, most of it from people much younger than me. So I decided to return to volunteering for a variety of reasons. I had enjoyed most of the volunteering I had previously been involved in, I needed to keep myself busy, it would look good on my CV and it might lead to an opportunity into the work place. Also I had just come from working in the third sector and I wanted to remain in it.<br />
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Sorted I thought. I thought wrong. It took me a long time to get the voluntary positions I now have. I couldn't believe how difficult it was. I emailed people, rang them, wrote to them and they rarely contacted me back. Of those that did get back to me some had their quota of female volunteers, quite a few didn't pay for bus fares and I couldn't afford to pay for my own fares on job seekers allowance, some required a level of physical fitness I don't have and some had the strangest requests for information before they would even consider talking to me. I didn't reply to the place that wanted to know my National Insurance number and the colour of my eyes!!!!<br />
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Anyway, I now spend one morning a week volunteering for the <a href="http://britishredcross.com/">British Red Cross</a> in the ITMS section. I spend another morning volunteering at <a href="http://seedsforafrica.com/">Seeds for Africa.</a> I sometimes do research for the local library and I am currently involved in historical research for an exhibition one of my old uni tutors is helping to put on. I have been at Seeds for Africa for over a year now with the other positions coming along later. None of it has led to any paid employment and I can't see any future openings in either organisation occurring, although ironically the people I work for got their got their salaried positions by firstly being volunteers, but unfortunately the current economic climate is stopping even charities taking on staff. But I enjoy it. I keep busy. I feel I am helping and making a difference which is what I wanted to do. And I have loads of fun at SFA. Apart from general office work we quite often take stalls at charitable events to raise the profile of the charity and sell African jewellery which is something I particularly enjoy. <br />
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In one of those quirks of fate I work at SFA with LH who was made redundant from 'that place' eighteen months before me. Isn't life strange.Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-38082988465416624742012-01-02T05:27:00.000-08:002012-01-02T05:27:08.650-08:002012 - the outing of the ostritchI really wasn't going to do a 'review of the last year' and a 'look forward to the coming year' thing. I really wasn't. And I <strong><em>especially</em></strong> wasn't going to blog about it. But I looked back to my first ever blog last January and noted that the optimism thing has taken a bit of a battering over the past few months and my mojo has been lost and found so many times it's quite giddy. Also I spent the best part of yesterday evening in tears after speaking to a friend I hadn't spoken to for a couple of years and hadn't seen for even longer. And I felt certain things needed to be looked at.<br />
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Said friend and I exchange Christmas cards every year with many promises of meeting up which never happens for a variety of reasons. In her card this year she mentioned she had had a few lengthy stays in hospital during the year so yesterday I rang to see how she was. I am glad to say she has recovered from her ill health and although she still has an operation to come it is corrective and she is quite well. She then asked after me. <br />
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I hadn't mentioned I had been made redundant. I tend not to give people I don't see regularly this information but I have had nearly two years of unemployment and it is becoming difficult to keep it out of conversations. So, somewhat reluctantly on my part and despite my attempts to change the direction of the conversation, we had a discussion about my current state, my prospects and my economic situation. My friend is a few years older than me, a kindly woman who is generally one of the first to help out any of her friends in need. She is also an unsentimental woman of opinions and after twenty minutes of her views on my prospects I felt absolutely awful. After the call I was almost devoid of any hope for the coming year. I just sat in tears of despair faced with so many things I was unable to change - my age for one. <br />
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Fortunately I had the good sense to then phone my very dear friends PH and PR, one after the other, who have known me 37 and 22 years respectively, know me very well and who were able to persuade me that there was hope and you didn't know what was going to be around the corner and every day is a new day and thus an opportunity. So I went to bed feeling a little better thanks to them.<br />
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The past two years have made me realise how very blessed I am with my friends and family. I wouldn't have got through without their support, kindness and generosity. I try to remember to let them know how much I love and value them. <br />
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However, in the early hours of this morning the bad feelings began to creep back and after looking to my favourite blogs to cheer me up (making phone calls at that hour not really being an option) and seeing all the yearly reviews, I realised that there are things in my life that need to change in some way. <br />
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Although it hasn't been successful - yet (see the optimism is creeping back), I am doing all I can to find employment (along with millions of others - which is the root of the problem). I also do some voluntary work which helps keep my skills base going, looks good on the CV and gets me out. So that is the outer me dealt with - apart from the need for money that is. But I need to address the inner me. <br />
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Unfortunately the inner me is an ostrich. I think I may have been one in more than one previous life so strong is my inclination to bury my head in the sand when faced with any perceived attack to my emotional equilibrium. The last few years have been so very challenging emotionally that this particular ostrich has buried herself head first up to her knees. Which is very, very uncomfortable. So the time has come to drag myself out and face a few things.<br />
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Firstly my health. I am not taking care of my physical well being and that needs to change this year. First and foremost exercise, fresh air and a healthy diet and not necessarily in that order. It is going to be difficult because over the past several months I have become reclusive and have taken to eating all the cakes and biscuits I have been busy baking whilst sitting in my comfy chair gazing unseeingly out of the window and<em> it's a very safe place to be</em>. I am not a lazy person by any means. I have many faults but laziness isn't one of them. I have worked and studied hard all my life but the past few years both in and out of work have taken a huge toll on my emotional resources in different ways and thus enabled my ostrich to grow in strength. <br />
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Secondly a change of mindset, attitude, outlook or whatever you care to call it is called for. I can easily sit here behind my keyboard and be very optimistic about what I want in my life but it's quite another thing to actually put it into practise and push myself forward to possible rejection with regards to my hopes, dreams and desires for a different kind of life. This bit I need to reflect on more. I need to work out how to strengthen my emotional resources again so that I can go forward without damaging myself emotionally because although being reclusive is safe, it is not a happy state. <em>My inner ostrich is quaking - does this mean I might actually manage to do it???</em> <br />
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Life is scary but it is time to find the point of it all again. To have faith that the universe will be kind to me and help me do it. Am posting this now. Before I get scared again and change my mind. Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-47030090435184234712011-12-18T13:31:00.000-08:002011-12-18T13:31:08.355-08:00in the interests of optimismSometime in October, about the middle of the third week I think, I had a <em>very</em> strange feeling. I felt I wasn't going to like November. It was quite a strong feeling and the desire to go to bed and stay there for the duration came upon me fiercely. Although not very practical to do so, I do wish I had gone with my desire. <br />
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At the end of October I hurt my back to the extent of being incapacitated for over a week. I have no idea how it happened. One moment I was walking across the room and the next I could barely move. My back was still a bit fragile when I then had a problem with my hip. Further incapacitation resulted. Then I went for an interview for a job I didn't get which I was quite upset about. Then my right hand became inflamed and very, very painful (and of course I am right handed) I couldn't even press the button on my camera let alone do any cooking. There was another health issue which is best not to go into here. There were a couple of other upsetting moments too. All in all - I think it fair to say - I didn't like November.<br />
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However, in the interests of optimism, for of course this is the person I am striving to be, November has gone. Done. It is now December. Time to carry on. Time to find my mojo again.<br />
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And although sadly my hand is not recovered, I have had blood tests and am going for an x-ray next week, I have found learning to use my left hand more a lot easier than I thought it would be. So in the interests of optimism I thought I would see what I could do in the way of my favourite occupations. And, although I need to get a left handed tin opener and chopping vegetables <em>is</em> challenging, <em>I can still make biscuits. </em><br />
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Last week I made Rum and Raisin Oaty Cookies (my take on a Rachel Allen recipe), Ginger and Honey Snaps and Chocolate and Coconut Bars. Once I started I couldn't stop. I was giving cookies away left, right and centre. And happily, thanks to giant pink painkillers, I can use my camera again although I'm afraid I forgot to photograph my frenzied cookie sessions. But now I've found my mojo again I expect I will make more especially as I am going away for Christmas and need to take gifts with me.<br />
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I may have to change my name to Lady Cookie.Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-22086282498296277442011-11-01T05:20:00.000-07:002011-11-02T02:56:57.461-07:00Book 7 Meet me at the Cupcake CafeNot a lot has been happening recently as I have hurt my back. I am no longer at the hanging onto the furniture and walls in order to walk from room to room stage. I do have a hot water bottle permanently attached to my back but it is getting better (pause for much wood to be touched here). I can just about get my tights and shoes on provided I have taken enough painkillers beforehand. And I can sit at the computer for short periods of time. I am however feeling very sorry for myself so on Saturday afternoon I went over to the A's for a bit of company and to sit with MG while TJ and AJ went to a quiz in the evening. I thought I might as well sit on their hard chairs with my cushion and hot water bottle as sit on mine and it meant MG and I got a chance to watch Strictly Come Dancing together which was fun. MG favours Jason and Kristina to win while my choice is the lovely Harry. And isn't Russell Grant so much fun. He is enjoying himself so much, it's quite infectious. <br />
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So to take my mind off my sorrows while waiting to be collected I decided to make a Sticky Ginger Cake to give them. Why, you might well be asking, would I attempt cake making considering getting dressed is a little on the challenging side but from the recipe it seemed so easy as it could all be done in stages in the food processor. However, it's amazing how heavy a 500g bag of flour weighs with a bad back and just how much bending and stretching is involved getting the ingredients out of cupboards and the fridge, actions I never really thought about before. I had to keep sitting down inbetween ingredient whizzes and the fact I would have to bend to get the cake in and out of the oven hadn't even occurred to me!! Mental note - need to work on forward planning. So it took me <em>ages</em>. However, eventually a slightly burnt cake was taken from the oven and I had time to lay down in a darkened room before collection by TJ. The cake was well received and quite delicious, once the burnt bits had been cut off. However I'm not going to attempt any more baking until I am as mobile as I can be considering I'm me, so that just leaves lots of reading to do which brings me nicely to book 7.<br />
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On the face of it <strong>Meet me at the Cupcake Cafe</strong> by <strong>Jenny Colgan </strong>is classic chick lit fare. Thirty-one year old Issy gets made redundant and uses her redundancy package and baking skills to start her own cafe selling cupcakes and coffee. Along the way she loses cretin of a boyfriend and finds Mr Right, brings together disparate groups of people (especially the women who work for her who also find love along the way), sees off a takeover bid from nasty grasping people and cafe becomes a roaring success. A few tears along the way but smiley happy ending with all loose ends tied up. Not my sort of thing at all. <br />
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So, why did I love it so much and not want it to end. It could be the identification with Issy and the redundancy. Having been there, done that, (actually still doing it) I know how it feels however, apart from that, our circumstances are <em>very</em> different. Or, it could well be the cake. After all I bought it purely because of the title and there is much, much cake in this book. There are lots of cake recipes and I want to try them all. I love cake. I love making cakes. I love eating cakes <em>almost</em> as much as I like making them. I love giving people cakes and seeing them smile and I believe most things seem better after tea and cake (or alcohol and cake) and this is the essence of the book - cake, whether it was sold in the cafe or given as a gift, made <em><strong>everything</strong></em> better for<strong> <em>everyone</em></strong> (except the cretin who got his just desserts in a wonderful way). <strong>And nobody got fat. </strong><br />
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<em>aaand </em> <a href="http://thecakedcrusader.com/">The Caked Crusader</a> is given an honourable mention and has some pages of her own at the back - that excited me - I read her blog <em>and </em>she has made a comment on mine - fame at last. Cake and fame. Glorious. I highly recommend it to all persons who understand the value of cake.<br />
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</strong>Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-67513914785068355172011-10-17T16:15:00.000-07:002011-10-17T16:15:51.266-07:00Project Spectrum - SeptemberI was looking forward to September and it's yellowness. <br />
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Again I started off with the card to MG. Yellow is her favourite colour and she was looking forward to the yellow month<br />
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Her reply to my 'are you going to do something yellow' was ' I might do'.<br />
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This lovely yellow fellow was being used by the fishmonger at Whitstable Harbour to draw people in. LC and I had a wander around the harbour and did indeed go in to look at the fish. So it worked.<br />
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Golden flowers, again from MO's garden where I think she must have flowers for every colour of the rainbow.<br />
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And then I decided to be artistic. This is the result of a whole afternoon of me arranging and re-arranging bits of yellow fruit and photographing them from every angle. If I had one I would be telling myself 'don't give up the day job'.<br />
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AJ and MG made the final photographic decision.<br />
And thanks to our lovely, short but lovely, indian summer there were still a few remaining sunflowers in MO's garden<br />
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October Project Spectrum is Aqua/Cyan but I might not do that one. I seem to have lost interest a bit. November is black and white, I'll see how I feel when November arrives.Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-35759605445056034162011-10-10T09:58:00.000-07:002011-10-10T09:58:05.203-07:00Book 6 - The Tent, The Bucket and MeThis was my antidote to One Day. I bought <strong>The Tent, The Bucket and Me</strong> by <strong>Emma Kennedy</strong> last year but somehow it got into the wrong pile of books and I didn't realise I hadn't read it. After I had read One Day and was putting it into the bookcase this book caught my eye and I picked it up. It's occasions like that which make me wonder if there is a benevolent universe looking out for me after all because this is the funniest book I have read in a while. I laughed out loud. Real giggling, body shaking laughter which is an interesting experience when reading a hardback in bed at night. At first I thought it wasn't perhaps a good idea to read something so funny before going to sleep but I only read a few pages at a time and I had some of the best nights sleep afterwards.<br />
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Emma has written about a period in the 70s when her parents bought a tent and decided camping was the way to go holidaywise. She chronicles the disastrous holidays they had in such an expressive way that it was like watching a film. I could just see it happening. She says in her introduction that she has frequently been asked if she had made any of it up and her reply is 'Sadly not. In fact, I wish I had.'<br />
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Emma was conceived on her parent's honeymoon in a badly erected rain lashed tent. Her first family holiday aged three was in 1970 and consisted of collecting a doom laden Welsh granny whilst driving an extremely dodgy bargain car on the way to a strangely deserted campsite set on the edge of a cliff in Wales. A tale of gale force ten winds and rain, dead sheep, a bucket of wee, a caravan with seaweed in the toilet and near death unfolds which is hilarious. It is a foretaste of each holiday the family takes, whether in a tent or in a gite, throughout the seventies, minus the Welsh granny who decides one trip into hell is more than enough. These tales include a school camping trip which is just as eventful as her parents holidays and nicely illustrates the confusing biological information a seven year old can hold as being true and the innocence with which they will pass this information onto a gobsmacked adult.<br />
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I love the theatre and film as much as I love books but I am not at all keen on farce, to the degree that I generally avoid anything remotely farcical. What stops this book being pure farce is the quality of the writing and the fact it is a first person narrative. It has the same biting humour that a good episode of Frasier has. It is observant and being written in the first person the reader is party to Emma's thoughts and feelings about each and every holiday disaster and this gives it a certain depth and of course, it's personal. It's a book I will keep on hand for when life is being unkind and I am in need of a good laugh because I could easily read it again and still find it funny. <br />
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And I am <em>so, so </em>glad I have never been camping and I never, <em>ever </em>intend to start.Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-35083874632778077472011-10-07T09:57:00.000-07:002011-10-07T10:18:08.396-07:00Help.........In need of some therapy I settled down the other evening to make Beetroot Chutney with the beautiful beetroot I bought at a farm shop during a rare excursion into the countryside. Except, after I had added to my preserving pan 1.1 litres of vinegar, 900g sugar, 450g onions and 700g of apples all nicely chopped where necessary, I found I didn't have the 1kg beetroot I asked <em>and</em> paid for, I had a mere 600g. Ooooer I thought, oh well I will have to make it up with more apples and onions and see what happens. So that is what I did.<br />
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Eight jars of 'jamney' and a veryveryveryveryveryvery burnt preserving pan is what happened.<br />
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I quite like the taste of the jamney, but then as I have said before, I like the taste of my cooking usually, so my dear friends L and B H have agreed to be Beetroot Jamney testers for me and give me their honest opinion. I <em>think</em> I'm looking forward to that.<br />
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However, I am more concerned about my burnt preserving pan. I have no idea how to rescue it. So far I have tried soaking it in warm soapy water overnight, heating it gently on the cooker for a short while, scrubbing with a brillo pad and three days and nights soaking it in vinegar. All to no avail. The significant ex has informed me that I need to heat it at a high temperature and then when it's hot enough add a few drops of water. Hmmm. He does know about these sorts of things having gained a combined degree in chemistry and maths but I am a little anxious about putting an empty (apart from burnt bottom) pan on a cooking ring and turning it up full. And how hot is 'enough'. I would have to stay in the kitchen the whole time in case it explodes and if it explodes what about me! So before I attempt that piece of advice I am going to go and get some coke - that would be cola by the way - I don't where to go for the other kind - and try soaking it in that. I believe genuine coca-cola, as in fat not thin and not a copy, has remarkable stripping qualities.<br />
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My sanity is at risk if I can't get back to the theraputic effects of making chutney so if anyone out there has a foolproof tip for rescuing burnt preserving pans I would be very grateful if you would let me know.Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-39837293228737588962011-10-05T10:53:00.000-07:002011-10-05T11:26:00.656-07:00The Great British Bake Off - episode 6 - DessertsI'm with Henry Winkler (aka The Fonz) on this one (actually I have a bit of a soft spot for Henry Winkler and would probably be with him on most things really). He was on Something for the Weekend a while ago and was invited to make the dessert. His reply was 'Pudding? We have pudding? I love pudding'. So I was <em>really</em> looking forward to this episode. And isn't it funny how there is always room for pudding.<br />
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The signature challenge this week was a Baked Cheesecake, the technical challenge a Chocolate Roulade and the show stopper a Croquembouche.<br />
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Well, there was no way I would be making this was there<br />
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so that's the showstopper out of the way. <br />
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I know a roulade and swiss roll are different but they both need to be rolled and, again going back to school days, my only attempt at a swiss roll ended up with a perfectly square one. Also I don't have the right size tin for a roulade. So I shall be making a Baked Cheesecake then. <br />
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Janet made a Rhubarb and Ginger one, Mary-Anne's was Tutti Frutti Curd Baked Cheesecake, Jo's was Rum and Raisin and Yasmin's Amaretto while Holly made a Father Christmas Baked Cheesecake. They all looked lovely but I wanted to make Jo's Rum and Raisin Baked Cheesecake and I so hoped the recipe would be on the website and, oh joy, it was.<br />
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I have to say nothing went wrong with the buying of the ingredients. The actual preparation went according to plan. I somehow managed to actually follow the recipe without incident so the making of it went well and it's time in the oven seemed to agree with it although it was slightly overcooked at the edge and it did crack. I did add more butter to the biscuit mixture because it seemed a bit dry and to my everlasting surprise when I went back to look at the episode (again <em>after</em> I had made the cheesecake!!!) Paul Hollywood told Jo that she should have added more butter to hers as it wasn't packed enough - yay me!<br />
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This is Jo's Rum and Raisin Cheesecake<br />
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and this is mine.<br />
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The crack looks a bit like the one on Amy Pond's bedroom wall doesn't it (a Dr Who reference for non-aficionados). Oooops you can see where my oven gloves went into the sauce on the top. <br />
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It's still in the tin because of transporting to MO's for Sunday dinner where I forgot to photograph it when we took it out of the tin until it was sliced and served and JT, bless him, said 'have we taken a photo?' I dashed for the camera and here it is sans tin.<br />
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I am so chuffed to say my cheesecake was very much liked and I was given 10 out of 10 for it. The taste of rum was especially appreciated although I don't think I would have won points from Paul Hollywood for it as he felt Jo's was nicely delicate and not overwhelmed with the alcohol. I soaked my raisins overnight in the rum. I like overwhelming alcohol and so did the MO and JT household. I'm going to make it again definitely.<br />
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Sadly The Great British Bake Off has now ended. The finalists were Holly, Jo and Mary-Anne, Yasmin having been eliminated this episode and Janet in the patisserie round. They all did so well but Jo was the winner. And now my Tuesday nights will be a little bit empty but I have Nigel Slater on Fridays and Lorraine Pascale on Mondays to watch, plan and cook from. I got so behind with my self imposed Bake Off challenge that I'm two episodes behind but I'm still going to make something from both although I don't know when. LP, a lovely member of my family, is giving me the book of the series for an early Christmas present so I might be able to get different recipes to try. Exciting baking times ahead methinks.Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-90270240423560241352011-10-04T11:46:00.000-07:002011-10-04T11:46:27.783-07:00The Great British Bake Off - episode 5 - PiesI like pies so I was really looking forward to this episode. Actually, so far I have really been looking forward to all the episodes. What can I say, I love cakes, biscuits, tarts, pies, puddings, breads and anything else of a fattening nature.<br />
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So many pies, so many choices - Holly made Three Cheese, Potato and Caramelised Onion Pie, Rob made Chicken and Mushroom, Yasmin a Family Fish Pie, Jo also made fish pie, a yummy sounding Salmon and Asparagus, Mary-Anne - Chicken and Bacon, Janet - Chicken and Chestnut, Jason - Brown Down Chicken Pie, all with either flaky or puff pastry. The required element/ technical challenge was to make Paul Hollywood's miniature pork pie with a quails egg in the centre. Six of them. I made a hand raised hot water crust pastry pork pie at school. It was notable for being a success. The showstopper was to make a sweet meringue pie using either the French or Italian method. <br />
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Sadly Jason and Rob were eliminated this time. Jason, who was so sweet and enjoying the experience so much, but was only nineteen and as Mary Berry said he just lacked the skill and the background. Rob's charm failed him on this occasion. His showstopper failed miserably, it sort of fell apart because he got his timings wrong again and unfortunately he had used up all his chances with Paul Hollywood. Paul said he loved their passion for baking and there was a lack of youth in his industry at the moment so when Jason said it was what he wanted to do he was keen to encourage him.<br />
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So, to pies. Again I was limited to those recipes printed on the website so because it looked so nice, was different, I loved all the ingredients and she used flaky pastry I decided to make Holly's Three Cheese, Potato and Caramelised Onion Pie.<br />
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This decision was made a couple of weeks ago but I hit a problem. The pie fed eight. I am just me. So in my usual generous way I invited friends round to eat said pie. Unfortunately they couldn't make it so I made the offer elsewhere. Unfortunately they couldn't make it either. I seem to have chosen the busiest two weeks in September as <em>no-one</em> could could come round for pie. <br />
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I was now quite behind with my Great British Bake Off challenge. At this point I really should have looked at my options such as halving the quantity at least, or looking at making another pie which I knew would freeze well (wasn't sure this would). Instead I developed an obsession. I <em>would</em> make this pie and I <em>would</em> make it as per the recipe. What I would do with a pie that big I wasn't going to think about because it was very important I make <em>that</em> pie. <br />
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And make it I did.<br />
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And here is where I really should leave it at that and go on to the next overdue episode. Pie made, onto dessert.<br />
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But I'm not going to. Dear reader I am going to tell the sad and sorry tale of my pie. <br />
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I made the pastry. I haven't made flaky pastry for quite some while as you can now buy quite good ready made pastry in the supermarket. I had forgotten how much I like making it. So that went well. I made up all the different bowls of ingredients for the filling. A bit fiddly but it went well. So then I started the layering. ' Step 11 Layer one quarter of the potatoes, a third of the onions and a third of ...'. Onions? Onions? What onions? I had completely by passed step 7 - lightly caramelise the onions. Sigh. Off I went to the cooker to caramelise my onions. Lightly. And resume layering. I was just about to put the final layer of potatoes on when I glanced round and saw - the remaining two thirds of the caramelised onions. Softly glistening with butter and still in the saucepan on the cooker. Sigh. I couldn't bring myself to unlayer so I just dolloped them on top, covered them with the last of the potato and put the pastry on top. And put it in the oven for 30 minutes at 220 and then for one hour at 180 or until golden brown.<br />
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This is Holly's pie going in<br />
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and coming out after presumably one and half hours cooking<br />
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this is my pie going in<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">it has character!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdA8kBNKLa5EFlmMwXPzE4-6tYO_-XnCDmHLaVs5G1iRhJNr3UhV7kryIS4e6k98lNWkqhjBbAtyYHPU2yT4p7Pjw3ySB8aPRf4kqxeykzf7NiwazZwGtQaMYhrafbhiVrlyYdXUYP2Ou5/s1600/P1010924.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdA8kBNKLa5EFlmMwXPzE4-6tYO_-XnCDmHLaVs5G1iRhJNr3UhV7kryIS4e6k98lNWkqhjBbAtyYHPU2yT4p7Pjw3ySB8aPRf4kqxeykzf7NiwazZwGtQaMYhrafbhiVrlyYdXUYP2Ou5/s320/P1010924.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
and coming out after just an hour in the oven <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>(yes I remembered to turn it down, I think I should have checked on it sooner - I don't have a glass door in my oven - that's one of my excuses)<br />
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I know I was going to embrace the quirkiness of my cooking - but really, with this, I think not. Just as well nobody took me up on the offer of pie.<br />
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So, next episode is desserts. I like desserts.<br />
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I am also having computer issues - again. It took me an hour and forty-five minutes to load these photos. It took me thirty-five minutes to get into my blog. I keep losing Internet access mid sentence. It is a little frustrating not to mention slow. Hopefully I will post desserts tomorrow (especially as it's the final Bake Off tonight and I still have Patisserie to do before I post that).Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-5265186464849400622011-09-21T15:17:00.000-07:002011-09-28T01:37:43.225-07:00Book 4 and 5 - An Uncommon Reader and One DayWe have two books this month in our reading group because one of them is very short.<br />
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<strong>An Uncommon Reader</strong> by <strong>Alan Bennett </strong>is an odd little book. Alan Bennett is a well known playwright and wrote quite an acclaimed series of monologues for television which won lots of awards but which I had never seen because they didn't appeal to me. The only work of his I have knowingly seen was the film of The History Boys which I loved and wished I'd seen when it was on the stage. <br />
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The Uncommon Reader of the title is the Queen who comes upon a mobile library at the back of the kitchens at Buckingham Palace whilst chasing after an errant corgi. Deciding to take a peek inside she meets a kitchen servant and takes a book out on his recommendation. This begins a love affair with reading which she finds challenges her staff somewhat. As I read it I realised I wasn't really 'getting it' and it was faintly annoying me but carried on anyway to the end. The end was worth it. The last two lines of the book were, I felt, magical. I laughed out loud. <br />
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This is not something I can say about our second choice <strong>One Day </strong>by <strong>David Nicholls. </strong>One Day is a best selling book that has just been made into a film starring Anne Hathaway and Jim Sturgess. I didn't like it. My niece, who is twenty-one, said she was finding it quite difficult to get into although she is persevering with it and <a href="http://mrspao.com/">Mrs Pao</a> was disappointed with it. I agree with Mrs Pao in that it doesn't deliver what it promises but also I felt quite depressed after reading it. I do realise that as it has been made into a high profile film I might be in the minority here but that was the effect it had on me.<br />
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The story centres on Emma and Dexter a couple of opposite characters who get together for a one night stand at the end of their very different degrees at Edinburgh university. Despite an obvious attraction they go their separate ways although they keep in touch with each other over the years and become firm friends. The premise of the title One Day is that we meet them on the same day every year over a period of about twenty years. We find out where they are, what they are doing, who they are with, their ups and downs and what developments their relationship goes through. As Mrs Pao says 'a snapshot' of their lives. But I found it to be messy. Because they don't necessarily meet up on this 'one day', the 364 days in-between need to be brought in some how so that we know what has been happening to them. And a lot happens to them as well as lots changes to the relationship between them. It all gets a bit muddled.<br />
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Many years ago, late 70s I think, I saw a film called Same Time, Same Place starring Alan Alda and Ellen Burstyn in which a couple who are married, but not to each other, meet and have an affair. The affair ends but they decide to meet up every year on a certain day. They meet only on that day. They have no contact in between other than to make arrangements. The happenings of the intervening time is shown through their conversations, their moods and of course how they age. Perhaps this sort of scenario works better visually. I liked the film even though there was a certain sadness about it. It's a film I always said I would watch again and although I never have I remember it with a certain fondness. I rather wish I hadn't read One Day.Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-19926485068216463212011-09-21T04:33:00.000-07:002011-09-22T12:34:42.148-07:00JellygeddonSome days as soon as I wake up I know things aren't going to go well. I just have a feeling that it would be best not to indulge in anything with the capacity for catastrophe. And some days there is no inkling whatsoever that life is going to throw a curved ball in my direction. <br />
<br />
The day I made the Battenburg was one such day. <br />
<br />
After I had made the Battenburg I went on to make Plum and Apple Jelly from a recipe on the <a href="http://appleandspice.com/">Apple and Spice</a> blog site (is that what they are called blog site? or should I say website? I wonder what the correct terminology is?). It was a straightforward recipe which didn't require straining juice overnight and seemed to yield quite a lot of jars. Marvellous I thought. <br />
<br />
Of course, having spent <em>such</em> a lot of time measuring and trimming the Battenburg it was quite late by the time I started chopping kilos of apples and plums (dark in fact) but I had survived the Battenburg experience and felt I was on a roll.<br />
<br />
<div align="center">I thought it looked quite scrumptious</div><div align="center"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRkzhySmHf67OoZMq-wcD4JKqYkomwfMvrRZRmNwrIfcCts9C4rdu7_VzxPDvvhyphenhypheni3yD7ANZRcnX7eW0LVmy2dZvMiCLS8WYrWK2gsePZpz2bPS85ynBaHoukNyE7YqWmdYEvqHe-l8oPg/s1600/P1010588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRkzhySmHf67OoZMq-wcD4JKqYkomwfMvrRZRmNwrIfcCts9C4rdu7_VzxPDvvhyphenhypheni3yD7ANZRcnX7eW0LVmy2dZvMiCLS8WYrWK2gsePZpz2bPS85ynBaHoukNyE7YqWmdYEvqHe-l8oPg/s320/P1010588.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">there was quite a lot of it when it had cooked down</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyMhyoOyLyN_weHId0K0xUf4Aa3B5zJU3modVsgSNF0YA-nGhwkraQAU_T3lohW2wfMP4hgGgM1_8syg_t6NQG1DExD59Zfv1cwxEyyqXMGslxqfoTrEvVIiTcNcEKFPpWpsRctZG0_okc/s1600/P1010590.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyMhyoOyLyN_weHId0K0xUf4Aa3B5zJU3modVsgSNF0YA-nGhwkraQAU_T3lohW2wfMP4hgGgM1_8syg_t6NQG1DExD59Zfv1cwxEyyqXMGslxqfoTrEvVIiTcNcEKFPpWpsRctZG0_okc/s320/P1010590.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
and so I started to ladle it into the jelly bag which was suspended over a bowl on the table. <br />
<br />
No problem. I had done it a million times before - which was probably the reason for the elastic on the jelly bag giving way causing the bag, full of mushed fruit, to fall into the quite full bowl of strained juice. The juice whooshed up into the air and on it's way down splattered the walls and a door before settling on the table and a chair from which it cascaded onto the floor.<br />
<br />
I, in the meantime, found myself covered in a liquid that had just been taken off the cooker. Although in my hair it had somehow avoided my face and upper body but the front of my skirt was sodden. So, holding my skirt away from me, I made a dash to the bathroom to take everything off and put cold water on my legs. I broke the zip on my skirt trying to take if off so had to wriggle it over my head. My face and tee shirt now had juice on so I just jumped in the shower in my underwear and began spraying my legs and face with cold water. Luckily I didn't seem burnt in anyway, just a bit sticky so when I was clean and dried off I wandered back into the kitchen. <br />
<br />
Putting the apron I should have been wearing in the first place on over my underwear (I decided against more clothes in case my trials and tribulations weren't over) I found the juice had slithered, like something from a bad science fiction film, across most of the floor and under a cupboard door. <br />
<br />
Walking through gallons of wet, sticky juice to get to the mop I began operation clear up.<br />
<br />
That done I went back to what remained of the juice. I hadn't finished ladling from preserving pan to jelly bag so I began all over again with a new jelly bag. I wasn't at all sure if it would work as the juice going through the jelly bag was now quite cool but after it had been returned to the pan and boiled the setting point was reached. I put the jelly into jars which had been sitting in a hot oven all this time and were therefore well and truly sterilised and to my delight I got four jars of plum and apple jelly<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZCUO7JixopS4fL24IpEg3h0bh2XHZglh86TufJ79zFagsoHzTJFD4ysZ3Texb_VV3FXxDKx2-seTvsy0mnhFVa5i1QBSCWTv0QCeHl7C-TnGp0AaSt4Sso7qXNJlx4_1mbTHDh73GmFIX/s1600/P1010594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZCUO7JixopS4fL24IpEg3h0bh2XHZglh86TufJ79zFagsoHzTJFD4ysZ3Texb_VV3FXxDKx2-seTvsy0mnhFVa5i1QBSCWTv0QCeHl7C-TnGp0AaSt4Sso7qXNJlx4_1mbTHDh73GmFIX/s320/P1010594.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="left">The lids of the jars were a little on the burnt side but it was barely noticeable - really.</div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left">I would like to say that I dealt with all of this with an air of quiet resignation. I did not swear, I did not get stressy and I did not cry. And I took on board four lessons learned </div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left">1. When looking at the jelly bag with the thought 'hmm that looks a bit full' STOP. Do not listen to the next thought 'oh I expect I can get a bit more in there'. </div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left">2. Test the jelly bag for elasticity <em>before</em> using.</div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left">3. Always, always wear an apron. And if making anything requiring a jelly bag and hot liquid again invest in a pair of wellies for the kitchen. </div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left">4. Get back on the horse. I made it again dear reader and it was perfect.</div><div align="left"><br />
</div>Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-60266936200960369412011-09-18T09:29:00.000-07:002011-09-18T09:29:31.605-07:00The Great British Bake Off - episode 4 - BiscuitsI had been looking forward to this episode as I love biscuits. There is nothing that can't be sorted by a cup of tea and homemade biscuits or cake. Sometimes you need both. <br />
<br />
I really wanted to make Mary-Anne's signature bake of melting moments but they weren't a featured recipe on the website so it was a choice between Rob's Chocolate and ginger oat biscuits or Holly's Custard Melts because I wasn't going to make the required element of Mary Berry's Brandy Snaps. Not just because they looked quite fiddly to do but mainly because they were to be a gift to take to lunch with the A's the next day and I don't think MG would have liked them. <br />
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I actually <em>really</em> wanted to make the macaroons. They were so pretty. All the contestants had to make them and were given five hours in which to do it but I didn't have that amount of time, let alone the contingency time I would probably have needed in case it all went pear shaped. But one day I will make macaroons, when I have a weekend to spare.<br />
<br />
So I decided to make Rob's Chocolate and ginger oat biscuits. Rob endeared himself to an anwful lot of viewers when, in the first show, he dropped his two tier chocolate cake on the floor just as he was getting it ready for showing and was very upset. A million women, including me, went aaah and wanted to hug him. It also helps that he is young, has floppy, dark, wavy hair, melting green eyes and dimples in his cheeks when he smiles. He seems to be gathering quite a following on the radio and is regularly discussed by the likes of Chris Evans and Ken Bruce. Unfortunately Mr Hollywood seems to be immune to Rob's charms. Rob, although he obviously loves baking, is a little on the laid back side, which Mr Hollywood is not, and he has timing issues, a failing of which Mr Hollywood disapproves. I sadly think Rob's days might be numbered.<br />
<br />
Anyway, the recipe looked quite straightforward and all I had to buy was the stem ginger, which was not at all as easy as I thought it would be. However, ginger purchased I made the biscuits.<br />
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Here are Rob's biscuits<br />
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<div align="center">the required quantity of twelve</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUDsahE8tyyXjK_6jjZDzRihA0Ae1fdf60nTpAYgjqAk2QSm2rWIbNZS5kHmyhNiolQcze_jgurvRtNdwHfHGg2coJKYVt6XKQ3KNfu8iurYpvWbIP-HiBYxmeS7Bn-v0HvXyqq9YjzJET/s1600/P1010796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUDsahE8tyyXjK_6jjZDzRihA0Ae1fdf60nTpAYgjqAk2QSm2rWIbNZS5kHmyhNiolQcze_jgurvRtNdwHfHGg2coJKYVt6XKQ3KNfu8iurYpvWbIP-HiBYxmeS7Bn-v0HvXyqq9YjzJET/s320/P1010796.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">all the same shape and size (and the pinkness that is Mary Berry)</div><div align="center"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjljnmluwnygw_pO-ih9FFaQN34XOCIq3FUvwwiJCgyH9BeAacXsJDZRSfrx2KwPo74OG_Bt1UnH9HkegKKuyAf4zJc5Y7eY1Uk6DDF6Ev6AmJXWz81Ur_Wpcwz_nNADh-TViCHyiGtlPPs/s1600/P1010801.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjljnmluwnygw_pO-ih9FFaQN34XOCIq3FUvwwiJCgyH9BeAacXsJDZRSfrx2KwPo74OG_Bt1UnH9HkegKKuyAf4zJc5Y7eY1Uk6DDF6Ev6AmJXWz81Ur_Wpcwz_nNADh-TViCHyiGtlPPs/s320/P1010801.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">checking to see if they had the right constituants of crispness without and chewyness within - they did. Although Paul Hollywood said there was too much ginger. Rob said there wasn't. </div><div align="center"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2BGSaDKx15KwhMSTM3brGMff9afjc0ii_bIocON_-moTliy1GUZb7GIjRmjZSfkUht9RByzh3GzJxRu11i_QR7AorRLBDI6IiKgN81k8Jre0H78FtRgeqq5_sSnXCGr6RwilEshahzd5R/s1600/P1010799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2BGSaDKx15KwhMSTM3brGMff9afjc0ii_bIocON_-moTliy1GUZb7GIjRmjZSfkUht9RByzh3GzJxRu11i_QR7AorRLBDI6IiKgN81k8Jre0H78FtRgeqq5_sSnXCGr6RwilEshahzd5R/s320/P1010799.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And here are my biscuits</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Rob made twelve, the recipe said it made twelve, I made eighteen. Here are the remaining fifteen, two having been dropped and one eaten. If I had made twelve out of the mixture I had, they would have been the size of small dinner plates</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidWEvsBTt38AMTlx3gBgheLogA9NWiXaBoryvboywHteh2hL67JFjTxIxUCccWfB0enTdNRtYoBAGD535gi3ej8-6naMyuH3PPjoMRDuR1kBC8g-XlJy2cggTh94mewYwU3XYkFcg30r1I/s1600/P1010804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidWEvsBTt38AMTlx3gBgheLogA9NWiXaBoryvboywHteh2hL67JFjTxIxUCccWfB0enTdNRtYoBAGD535gi3ej8-6naMyuH3PPjoMRDuR1kBC8g-XlJy2cggTh94mewYwU3XYkFcg30r1I/s320/P1010804.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">they look the same size as Rob's biscuits - well to me they do</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0UXp8s2vgicyRhUKrewct8adHeNV1kIQSDrjlBPoN1I7c6OinOmMopfnwwwU9h82IprS_2CwMX1WGTxAI_gfmYA8Y95pRS-Ym4dkYCmT7YiTYIAg8rCZRnj1d933qqWW_biEE9hh-pPTr/s1600/P1010805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0UXp8s2vgicyRhUKrewct8adHeNV1kIQSDrjlBPoN1I7c6OinOmMopfnwwwU9h82IprS_2CwMX1WGTxAI_gfmYA8Y95pRS-Ym4dkYCmT7YiTYIAg8rCZRnj1d933qqWW_biEE9hh-pPTr/s320/P1010805.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">not only did I make six more than the recipe said but they were an awful lot thicker as well</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXyGkItxOVzFz93pOtih3SycunfBPab57Nr7zLUBNmxD9OJmJBQRb0jMu_wC7-k4d9lYTz2FWWbxqnaBMU2Xm1spGcTiE_kXLMfN0TsUhA31LfG5XJ3tPSX6XNF6xkNV8tGlXJalvbvKj3/s1600/P1010806.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXyGkItxOVzFz93pOtih3SycunfBPab57Nr7zLUBNmxD9OJmJBQRb0jMu_wC7-k4d9lYTz2FWWbxqnaBMU2Xm1spGcTiE_kXLMfN0TsUhA31LfG5XJ3tPSX6XNF6xkNV8tGlXJalvbvKj3/s320/P1010806.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I don't know how it would have happened as I followed the recipe very very carefully but there you go. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">They tasted nice and they looked nicer than the photographs allow and The A's were very pleased with them. They also didn't think there was too much ginger in them. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next week is pies. I like pies.</div>Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-35374962968947150262011-09-09T15:13:00.000-07:002011-09-13T07:34:34.314-07:00The Great British Bake Off - episode three - BreadI was a bit nervous about making bread as, apart from the debacle of my school girl attempt, I had only ever made Rachel Allen's brown bread which although successful, eventually, didn't have yeast. Also it's Paul Hollywoods speciality and he's a bit fierce. He makes me nervous and I'm not even there, I'm at home, cooking in my own kitchen - how bizarre is that.<br />
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Anyway, there were an awful lot of bread recipes featured. Holly made a picnic loaf which was a brioche dough with chocolate in one end and onion marmalade in the other. There was walnut, raisin and rosemay loaf, tear and share cheese and onion bread, zupfe loaf with grueyre, lemon and coriander mini loaves, chocolate chilli buns, sage and oinion rolls, peppercorn loaf and so many more. I wanted to make the egyptian, dukkah loaf with mixed spices as I happened to have some dukkah in the cupboard but it wasn't one of the recipes on the website. So, I did it again, I made the required element. I made Paul Hollywoods focaccia recipe. But then I like focaccia, had all the ingredients and the recipe said it was easy!!! So............<br />
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Step one - put the flour, salt, yeast, olive oil and most of the water into the bowl. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguKkPe3ytC2MlCAFYTg-gkkCb_Z4RwjhS2Gy_YTQUOgWxiJTqZrIzlglOP2wta9A4XA4BbhHPeSzNoEEp2ZzWUPtoSQc0_PWXTeiLHCt54Sv2a2fb8illlAApI2t1qQs51c2phsPYhDFC2/s1600/P1010686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguKkPe3ytC2MlCAFYTg-gkkCb_Z4RwjhS2Gy_YTQUOgWxiJTqZrIzlglOP2wta9A4XA4BbhHPeSzNoEEp2ZzWUPtoSQc0_PWXTeiLHCt54Sv2a2fb8illlAApI2t1qQs51c2phsPYhDFC2/s320/P1010686.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><br />
So far so good. I then mixed it with my hands to form a dough. Hmmm - okaaaay? <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ2545myEeu1DJvcHr7EgWCmcK6tuODAD1dXPyAutUjnm2p8yL_JOLAOf4D_jMSLTbX20UwinxzZhTz-ufujfZRQjVlW5tks2S5b70txAA-HWzCUKJo-R6CFrGrQy-0apGYzYc9aoc65cK/s1600/P1010687.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ2545myEeu1DJvcHr7EgWCmcK6tuODAD1dXPyAutUjnm2p8yL_JOLAOf4D_jMSLTbX20UwinxzZhTz-ufujfZRQjVlW5tks2S5b70txAA-HWzCUKJo-R6CFrGrQy-0apGYzYc9aoc65cK/s320/P1010687.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><br />
<br />
This is where I started to worry a bit. Kneading for five minutes while slowly adding the rest of the water. At this point I realised I had meant to watch the recording <em>before</em> I started cooking which would have been especially helpful because I wasn't at all sure I seen any contestants with their hands in as much mush as this - and this was it kneaded!!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDjiAJrR41FySUX7dKYZp9mTU7_R_T38ep2aZ6XtNk-37GJJyx99ULlfhwoVu1EdlLLzszcf-SwObvXCxorbT8nS_zoO96BOKu79yx47GUcy31bRb4FXtNYxeZ2z4_wQkNytCWBaJKwn6z/s1600/P1010688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDjiAJrR41FySUX7dKYZp9mTU7_R_T38ep2aZ6XtNk-37GJJyx99ULlfhwoVu1EdlLLzszcf-SwObvXCxorbT8nS_zoO96BOKu79yx47GUcy31bRb4FXtNYxeZ2z4_wQkNytCWBaJKwn6z/s320/P1010688.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><br />
But I carried on regardless now 'stretching' the dough by hand in the bowl for five minutes, resisting the temptation to add more flour because I remembered Mr Hollywood's gleefully derisory comments about those who had added flour at this stage (and many had). So, after another five minutes of flourless kneading ended up with this<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ0pceAhgJM5CsDhsf2fjTJcdaqvbzgGDTxzIH8wZsRqubl7PVP9rSIGPkUCnF1HPEP-ruo1gSueL9BbTbNl_FkXMnRIXELi86AS8f-w9GSLz_-815MWUT1lTd3qaUp0OV61IA0MfJZcvG/s1600/P1010691.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ0pceAhgJM5CsDhsf2fjTJcdaqvbzgGDTxzIH8wZsRqubl7PVP9rSIGPkUCnF1HPEP-ruo1gSueL9BbTbNl_FkXMnRIXELi86AS8f-w9GSLz_-815MWUT1lTd3qaUp0OV61IA0MfJZcvG/s320/P1010691.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><br />
It was <em>so</em> wet and sticky that I found the next bit of kneading, for yet a further five minutes, on an oiled work surface quite difficult. Urvashi did her kneading by picking it up and throwing it down on the board over and over again because 'it worked for her'. Except it didn't this time because she was eliminated (sadly along with Ian).<br />
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I just pushed it around as best I could (again - no flour), put it back into the bowl, covered it, <br />
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put it somewhere warm and waited for it to double in size<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">This sort of looks double</div><br />
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Then it had to go on two lined baking sheets. However it was so wet and sticky it was hard to flatten it out and push out into the corners of the tin so I put it on one tray. I then realised it was going to rise in the proving so I tried to move half of it to another sheet. It was glued to the parchent. I couldn't get it off. So with misgivings I left it alone, covered it and left it to prove. Like this<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip_gJ0UBswVUGbqyCIs7VoMQNYZDxu9oUkKjcPR3-gtT9UvM6o2SwH6Veun0L9wZdZriSqjOo89Cbr37I6aJ9VYCz0QUHY_wDQxl9__8yp4r68pI9dUFN6dC93-ruOx5H3nLPKwkFoLMzN/s1600/P1010694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip_gJ0UBswVUGbqyCIs7VoMQNYZDxu9oUkKjcPR3-gtT9UvM6o2SwH6Veun0L9wZdZriSqjOo89Cbr37I6aJ9VYCz0QUHY_wDQxl9__8yp4r68pI9dUFN6dC93-ruOx5H3nLPKwkFoLMzN/s320/P1010694.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><br />
It was at this point I decided to go back to my recording of the programme to see what the finished article should look like a la Paul Hollywood<br />
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<div align="center">This is his focaccia (and his hand)</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp_CcxvvDjmCC5SzXVGrxvOK_cN3pwd-GGJ2UpZppRDQblN2PVWzxlkM2KL5LDmO9Tx3HIknXPHtlqq_RHdIs_XQfjLWXRR1ulkUyNZ0EwUA_Vyx-xRb7uvvYjNBDN3COAy2ptQlbipY4r/s1600/P1010696.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp_CcxvvDjmCC5SzXVGrxvOK_cN3pwd-GGJ2UpZppRDQblN2PVWzxlkM2KL5LDmO9Tx3HIknXPHtlqq_RHdIs_XQfjLWXRR1ulkUyNZ0EwUA_Vyx-xRb7uvvYjNBDN3COAy2ptQlbipY4r/s320/P1010696.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><br />
A couple of contestants had dough as mushy as mine but they all managed to push it into the corners of the trays easily. On viewing I also realised I hadn't put any dimples in the dough. Still, trying to keep positive, it might go alright, you never know, I was keeping the faith, I went back after it's hour of proving to find it had indeed grown a great deal. Time for dimples I thought.<br />
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However, when I pulled off the food wrap that had lightly been covering my focaccia, this happened<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7KRy3lhEeVcQBYH7U4SxJXV7QniXUfZC2UQDaQfkOEDXROTDODQvt4Egyvjip2nUUDVWpxNVeMzehyKSTvdS5nbCFAmGgoaEJq4-S5faYOrvrNMGeNZOrelV6hwxTMRjHYaDOny2OIxmz/s1600/P1010698.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7KRy3lhEeVcQBYH7U4SxJXV7QniXUfZC2UQDaQfkOEDXROTDODQvt4Egyvjip2nUUDVWpxNVeMzehyKSTvdS5nbCFAmGgoaEJq4-S5faYOrvrNMGeNZOrelV6hwxTMRjHYaDOny2OIxmz/s320/P1010698.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">when I finally detached it from the food wrap my dough sank - a lot. Now a sensible person might say 'using food wrap to cover it while proving is not a good idea - obviously' but I saw someone on the programme loosely cover theirs with it, although yes, most people did seem to use a cloth so I would say 'lesson learned'. Anyway not being one to give up I then tried, without success, to dimple. Then I shoved it in the oven and went to watch Dr Who.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Twenty minutes later this came out of the oven<br />
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Not a very good photo I know but I was missing bits of Dr Who here! The focaccia was bigger than I thought it would be, it had a crusty top - which is good apparently and when I cut it later (after Dr Who) it looked like this<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0XHaCjBFJFyOraKHQdKpSCb1W2ckodNuPogvDdexfN_rhp316OJ8Q6O43krdOl_khzkOIEDyAXaTlP6nQO4F2Bt0Cnl4xhqhqM9B50gG_Vhxap3YgrK0MmEwfcuLs6jcjsE0AJgH4X7Q8/s1600/P1010702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0XHaCjBFJFyOraKHQdKpSCb1W2ckodNuPogvDdexfN_rhp316OJ8Q6O43krdOl_khzkOIEDyAXaTlP6nQO4F2Bt0Cnl4xhqhqM9B50gG_Vhxap3YgrK0MmEwfcuLs6jcjsE0AJgH4X7Q8/s320/P1010702.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><div align="center"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>which I was not displeased with as it had the uneven holes Paul Hollywood said it should have. Ok, so it probably shouldn't have been just as uneven all over but it was the holes he went on about so I reckon I did alright-ish.<br />
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In fact I was quite chuffed as it also tasted nice. Not focaccia as I've had it before but it was definitely edible and I wouldn't mind feeding it to other people. I might have to call it something else though.<br />
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I would definitely make it again but I wouldn't put so much salt on top before it's baked. I would add rosemary or chilli or something. Also I think the topping was too crispy. This may have been because I put too much olive oil on it before baking. I don't actually know yet. I would remember to dimple before proving as well.<br />
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I feel quite excited - I can make two kinds of bread now - English Tea Stall here I come!!!Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-80788609643558741132011-09-09T08:58:00.000-07:002011-09-09T08:58:11.654-07:00Book 3 - When God was a Rabbit<strong>When God was a Rabbit</strong> by <strong>Sarah Winman</strong> was such an interesting and inventive book. I thought it was well written with <em>mainly</em> likable characters, some of them wonderfully odd. <br />
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Narrated by Elly it is the story of her life and her relationships, primarily with her brother but also the rest of her family, her best friend, her brother's best friend and her neighbour. The first half was written from the point of view of Elly as a child and I tend to like that perspective. There were pointers along the way to some sort of tragedy having taken place and which wasn't at all what I thought it was going to be. The story went to a lot of surprising places. I thought it was a tale about growing up, coping and acceptance. It was definitely one of the 'unputdownable' books.Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-20308014913863143802011-09-06T08:07:00.000-07:002011-09-06T08:07:23.047-07:00The Great British Bake Off - episode two - PastryI'm a bit behind with these so I need to catch up, episode four is tonight and I have reading group so I have put it on to record while I am out having my dinner cooked for me - yummy. I will <em>not </em>go back and check that I have recorded it correctly - yet again! If it doesn't record I can watch the repeat on - er - whenever it is on - Sunday I think. Anyway, I am not going to check - I'm not.<br />
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Moving on. The week before lasts challenge was pastry. Specifically pastry tarts. There were big tarts, little tarts and some in-between sized tarts. There were savoury tarts and sweet tarts. As CCV was coming to lunch I decided to make a savoury tart. I liked the idea of Jason's Salmon and Pak Choi quiche but CCV doesn't do fish so I opted for Ian's Spinach, Potato and Stilton Quiche with a walnut and paprika crust because it looked nice, sounded nice and Ian seemed a nice man. CCV finds walnuts do not agree with her so I substituted hazelnuts.<br />
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I had never added egg to savoury pastry before and I liked the effect although I didn't use all the egg.<br />
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The tip of rolling pastry out between sheets of food wrap was brilliant. Unfortunately I didn't work the pastry enough as it was a wee bit crumbly when cooked. It wasn't dreadful but could have done with being a bit less flaky. I found out this was the cause of my crumbliness when I replayed the recording and listened to Paul Hollywood's advice. Afterwards. It would have been helpful to watch the programme before I started cooking really.<br />
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The pastry went into the fridge for half an hour and I set about cooking the new potatoes and wilting the spinach. After wilting I had to squeeze the liquid out of the spinach which took forever. I don't know if there is a special technique or a spinach squeezer contraption available but I did it with my hands. Messy, messy, messy and having started with 200g I ended up with the smallest amount ever. There has to be a better way.<br />
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Anyway, after blind baking the pastry for far longer than the recipe said (not because I forgot about it - for a change - but because it needed it) I lined it with sliced, cooked new potatoes - seven in total but I found that to be too many so the ends found their way into my mouth. Cooks privilege. After crumbling the stilton onto the potatoes I spooned over the cream, egg, spinach, nutmeg, lemon zest, cayenne, thyme and parmesan mixture. It is on occasions like this when the recipe says spoon, one should really spoon the whole time, not decide halfway to tip, because there wasn't enough pastry for the amount of liquid. Thus the liquid started to seep over the edges of the pastry and out of the bottom of the tart tin onto the baking tray so I quickly shoved it in the oven whereby the tart tin started to slide backwards off the baking tray. I shut the oven door, quickly.<br />
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After the required cooking time I opened the oven door to find the tart tin thankfully still on the baking tray. It hadn't leaked too much and had set nicely. Predictably it didn't look like Ian's quiche, the spinach having migrated to the middle for starters, but that's alright because I am embracing the character of my cooking. CCV thought it looked nice <em>and </em>she thought it tasted very nice <em>and</em> we had seconds and that is what matters.<br />
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I was just happy there weren't any major disasters. <br />
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I would definitely make it again preferably with the walnut crust but I would make extra pastry, any left over could be frozen perhaps. Also I would possibly leave out the parmesan and increase the stilton. <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I think this could be classed a success. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I checked again. To make sure the recorder was set up for tonight. Is this a problem I wonder? </div>Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-24828819638330965052011-09-04T04:58:00.000-07:002011-09-04T04:58:52.648-07:00Book 2 - One moment, One morning<strong>One Moment, One Morning</strong> by <strong>Sarah Raynor</strong> was our last book club read. It was a book I had picked up in Waterstones as part of the 3 for 2 offer and had taken along for consideration. Most of us read it and we mostly found it an 'unputdownable' book. I read it in three days. <br />
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The book focuses on the lives of three women who become involved with a death on the London to Brighton train early one morning. It chronicles the impact this event has on each of them, how they come together to deal with their grief, the relationships they are dealing with and the relationships they forge with each other as a consequence of the death.<br />
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It's a nicely written book. The chapters are split over a week and defined by the hours in that week. It also goes back in time on occasions and one of the book group found it difficult to read because of this and so gave up on it. I didn't have this problem but I did find the language quite emotive and I felt at one point the emotions were so detailed I wasn't being given the space to feel it for myself. <br />
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However, the consensus of opinion was, although a very sad book (I cried buckets - but then I do), it was worth reading. The ending is positive and the main female characters were very likeable.Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-90373425153274783352011-09-03T08:21:00.000-07:002011-09-09T14:52:50.318-07:00The Great British Bake OffOne of my favourite television programmes has returned. <a href="http://thegreatbritishbakeoff.com/">The Great British Bake Off</a> is back. I am an avid watcher of cookery programmes. If it cooks, I watch it (fortunately I don't have Sky and so can't spend <em>every</em> waking hour watching the Food channel) but for some reason I really, really, really like this programme probably the most. I even record it and watch it again (and sometimes again).<br />
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For the uninitiated 12 amateur bakers, chosen from countrywide heats (that I didn't know were going on - hrrumph!!), compete to win the title of um, Great British Baker Off -er I suppose, under the beady judgemental eyes of Mary Berry (she of numerous cookery books) and master baker Paul Hollywood, renowned in this neck of the woods for his artisan bread, (having tasted his bread I would attest to it's tastiness, goodness and shape). Each week has a theme and each contestant makes three dishes, one of which has to be the required element which will be Mary Berry or Paul Hollywood recipe. For the required element contestants are all given the same recipe which they have to follow although they are allowed a certain amount of interpretation as there are missing elements from the recipe. The required element is judged blind so that the contestants personalities cannot be a factor. This can at times be very telling. The judges eliminate one person each week. <br />
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This year I have decided I am going to make one recipe from each show and feature it here (you lucky people). Not all the recipes are on the website so I will be a bit limited but no doubt will find something that takes my fancy.<br />
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The first episode was cake - my favourite. There were so many cakes. Big cakes, little cakes, tiered cakes, cup cakes. Chocolate marble cake, chocolate and raspberry opera cake, cherry bakewell cupcakes, raspberry and cream cupcakes, chocolate and orange cupcakes to name but a few. So which cake did I choose to make? Why, the required element of course. The required element being a Battenberg. I <em>actually</em> chose to make a cake which must be symmetrical. I may have mentioned, once or twice, that I seem to have a slight lack spatial awareness? Well, it's actually much worse than that.<br />
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Throughout my life there have been glaring examples of my inability to judge distances, misread tape measures together with my lack of dexterity in those mind game paper puzzle things where you have to move pieces around into the right shaped holes without first cutting them up. I took life art classes and my work was held up as an example of bad perspective. One of my housemates at uni was adept at throwing things into a pan and ending up with one person sized portions. I have tried and tried but if I throw things anywhere without following a recipe the smallest amount I seem to be able to cook would feed a family of four, for a week. I can't tell you the panic I feel when someone says to me 'it's just 200 yards up the road' - I don't know what 200 yards looks like and no explanations will get my brain to register it. One sad day earlier in the year found me in Marks and Spencer with a tape measure <em>actually measuring </em>slices of bread because Delia said the bread for her Chocolate Bread and Butter Pudding had to be 1/4 of an inch thick and I just couldn't work out what that looked like - thick, medium, thin - <em>which was it</em>. In my defence I would mention that I just happened to have the tape measure in my bag anyway, although I can't remember why and I was having a particularly bad day - but even so!!<br />
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I have a brother who has no concept of time <em>whatsoever</em> and he doesn't seem to realise this. In the same way I have no concept of space. However, unlike my brother, I recognise this trait in myself. I believe I have spatial dyslexia. But for some strange reason I just seem to forget I have this problem.<br />
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Which can be the only reason why, having just seen 12 contestants using tape measures and rulers to get their cakes and marzipan into the required shape for this cake, my decision to make it too didn't ring any alarm bells in my head.<br />
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And it started off so well...................... <br />
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I should perhaps mention at this point that Mary Berry's recipe was for Coffee and Walnut Battenberg. I have an allergy to coffee and so I chose to make the traditional pink and yellow version and used Lorraine Pascale's recipe from <a href="http://bakingmadeeasy.com/">Baking Made Easy</a>.<br />
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<br />
I put the correct quantities and the correct ingredients in - always a good idea<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVEVP8-y8ZHa6PK8qncAIYnF8qjq3EyjaF-VMMbEOPn6tz4F-rxd_wvcn6dEowQ7Zx54MtQZKQRK11oFABIutK2REovX_rlZb8HnDbja1MSm8YljvaXwuEis-wl20DY_KUL7kN4EuMjVq9/s1600/P1010542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVEVP8-y8ZHa6PK8qncAIYnF8qjq3EyjaF-VMMbEOPn6tz4F-rxd_wvcn6dEowQ7Zx54MtQZKQRK11oFABIutK2REovX_rlZb8HnDbja1MSm8YljvaXwuEis-wl20DY_KUL7kN4EuMjVq9/s320/P1010542.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">and mixed it quite well, if I can say so myself</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0hJk4QGWwag9SV_ImpAMhig7ho8Pvb9UfwN7TYQctsIc96Epx-w67NWJKLlgorAi-i8daLXlbDFTf7BX7OfN4OMonWm8NLGYAbzkabldngCHDy5JkR3MSR9Gfd64WTiulNELB8Vdj1cLQ/s1600/P1010543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0hJk4QGWwag9SV_ImpAMhig7ho8Pvb9UfwN7TYQctsIc96Epx-w67NWJKLlgorAi-i8daLXlbDFTf7BX7OfN4OMonWm8NLGYAbzkabldngCHDy5JkR3MSR9Gfd64WTiulNELB8Vdj1cLQ/s320/P1010543.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">then instead of gently warming the jam I forgot about it and it burnt<br />
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burnt jam - throw away and start again</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZpnk-fVFDyw4j70qUTBaSaMpPTQyleb_4Ypa_YwF_Qj7OcFiYMeNr8-eyN0VIFTonj60wDOJC8QGBUkwsGewXsBoBw5hbCXig5n9h5W-hmcY_574jopvI6hAr1pDydJmQBnyGXiNOHUXX/s1600/P1010544.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZpnk-fVFDyw4j70qUTBaSaMpPTQyleb_4Ypa_YwF_Qj7OcFiYMeNr8-eyN0VIFTonj60wDOJC8QGBUkwsGewXsBoBw5hbCXig5n9h5W-hmcY_574jopvI6hAr1pDydJmQBnyGXiNOHUXX/s320/P1010544.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">The recipe said to divide the mixture into two and colour each with food colouring. One with yellow and one with pink. Only put one drop in or you will get psychedelic cake (which I thought quite a nice idea)</div><div align="center">I had to put <em>this </em>much in to get even a faint yellow hue to the mixture. The same thing happened with the pink half - many, many drops</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjibd3-DFNStYeuPB97_NOWyCQx6aZVsv1sDm16ujD4lFshB2DKoqBHpr5I-O7r1b0_2zzk3obxUWP-G1he2Pz87ZvUOJBa_Q8QByD3gpU4jZHPoaLjGy3UZQSKv9-T-rSJiESvkcK2P6_V/s1600/P1010549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjibd3-DFNStYeuPB97_NOWyCQx6aZVsv1sDm16ujD4lFshB2DKoqBHpr5I-O7r1b0_2zzk3obxUWP-G1he2Pz87ZvUOJBa_Q8QByD3gpU4jZHPoaLjGy3UZQSKv9-T-rSJiESvkcK2P6_V/s320/P1010549.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">and in they go</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCqPbk7DJKy4XHOAf5slzemqAupAncsh5XGupdQl5wePBgUH8YRDtEsWfXzRWa8_fajoNNMAQKnT-FReEpgPaqryCYMwr3SKFfAOPVX6KXFQwMn0s5F1n4XHqD8YD0EiAG_arFy0bFdxoJ/s1600/P1010555.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCqPbk7DJKy4XHOAf5slzemqAupAncsh5XGupdQl5wePBgUH8YRDtEsWfXzRWa8_fajoNNMAQKnT-FReEpgPaqryCYMwr3SKFfAOPVX6KXFQwMn0s5F1n4XHqD8YD0EiAG_arFy0bFdxoJ/s320/P1010555.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">and out they come<br />
(yellow left , pink right)</div><div align="center">why are they two different sizes when the tins are the same size?</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwXTxboq2soGo1pEJD8WfpepdICBV8gOS7nF3NlydK3rbUVE1gg0i_xC7NGXYPcvVGw_r6IIjBlvGnxACVTmPpQKQ3zFkGz9snZoNKyUQCJyFFEjm-NyOdRn78RiV-fPkR5B1eS3xkbdnt/s1600/P1010558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwXTxboq2soGo1pEJD8WfpepdICBV8gOS7nF3NlydK3rbUVE1gg0i_xC7NGXYPcvVGw_r6IIjBlvGnxACVTmPpQKQ3zFkGz9snZoNKyUQCJyFFEjm-NyOdRn78RiV-fPkR5B1eS3xkbdnt/s320/P1010558.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">and this is where I suddenly remembered my paticular issue with spatial directions.</div><div align="center">I can't tell you how long it took me to work out that 'with the longest side facing you, cut the sponges in half horizontally' meant </div><div align="center">do it like this....</div><div align="center"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2-OtaTnPU0mZwlj2FR-FwOIDODHNwOfZmnF698KwOIfaVMmLz3uRzuREa-8c1qoYIbzX_1z06VXVjn9zSX2kkWlYUq-APBy_7pDAD_ofXdwoUfIbNTNX03ZS33HsoIX73oMIMOptzRkIx/s1600/P1010561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2-OtaTnPU0mZwlj2FR-FwOIDODHNwOfZmnF698KwOIfaVMmLz3uRzuREa-8c1qoYIbzX_1z06VXVjn9zSX2kkWlYUq-APBy_7pDAD_ofXdwoUfIbNTNX03ZS33HsoIX73oMIMOptzRkIx/s320/P1010561.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Then I had to use the apricot jam (second batch) (this was coffee buttercream in the actual challenge) to stick the pieces together so that I got the traditional symmetrical square which is <em><strong>similar</strong></em> to this... and yes this is what they looked like <em><strong>after</strong></em> I had trimmed them to make them the right size and fit!!</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgIKIarFq00sHhZzLWcLsx1D6PY0MwV2uO4XxsEnPkHUdSv2aghvYddfjlnA1etcesDU6RP3DHZeNgRWrDC-iSarbE0GROGqbKRqRm45ExqIef5UCHaBq23kp5l3nd7bARXH1BoyC1ZGO4/s1600/P1010563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgIKIarFq00sHhZzLWcLsx1D6PY0MwV2uO4XxsEnPkHUdSv2aghvYddfjlnA1etcesDU6RP3DHZeNgRWrDC-iSarbE0GROGqbKRqRm45ExqIef5UCHaBq23kp5l3nd7bARXH1BoyC1ZGO4/s320/P1010563.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I did better with the marzipan which, although not the retangle it should be, was the right size in the middle. I know because I measured it.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR4RfHC1qHrbI1yiilCzNWPzrNV23eAug-E7HIy4B_cmPsFtyjO9S8GWN72GezL4cWqIE3AxPwZ7kCpCCY6D0C6POE1C9XsM8sF_XhrU8x4zNWnM0eIr8gXhCntGBtIYATBzC1qtz2lFLP/s1600/P1010570.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR4RfHC1qHrbI1yiilCzNWPzrNV23eAug-E7HIy4B_cmPsFtyjO9S8GWN72GezL4cWqIE3AxPwZ7kCpCCY6D0C6POE1C9XsM8sF_XhrU8x4zNWnM0eIr8gXhCntGBtIYATBzC1qtz2lFLP/s320/P1010570.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So why didn't it fit??</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGlCtQuVLI4RJvyoCZ0VCtE840pBuVSWZT0yceIo1DMsBefjMy6h1HDh31N6aCq0dlPJrPzCN8a0eZmYXjnwnYGKizILlNETyxSjexZZEzjqUmK1vtaYd_2LlY3LyUC9OLLdbGLSoSa6hX/s1600/P1010571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGlCtQuVLI4RJvyoCZ0VCtE840pBuVSWZT0yceIo1DMsBefjMy6h1HDh31N6aCq0dlPJrPzCN8a0eZmYXjnwnYGKizILlNETyxSjexZZEzjqUmK1vtaYd_2LlY3LyUC9OLLdbGLSoSa6hX/s320/P1010571.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">and why didn't the apricot jam stick it together? I used more than the recipe said as well.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Well, here it is. The finished article. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_xseSggJpNbNY8q_TOlIPXi7nu4hk0Z85-s8HmJwzCXrQuyG-VakhiwDHH_jjRS1B0oO_7jHlCiyBKEqCFN9QBm7loQGFGInfuL92Pm2tT3stJtS-Ay9xVxhnO7tzjQ0eu5EWQJqxq1E/s1600/P1010576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_xseSggJpNbNY8q_TOlIPXi7nu4hk0Z85-s8HmJwzCXrQuyG-VakhiwDHH_jjRS1B0oO_7jHlCiyBKEqCFN9QBm7loQGFGInfuL92Pm2tT3stJtS-Ay9xVxhnO7tzjQ0eu5EWQJqxq1E/s320/P1010576.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It was longer than this but I kept trimming it trying to get it straight. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Here's a tip. If you put an extra bit of marzipan on the bottom (to cover the space where it didn't meet) and up the edge of the outside with the intention of smoothing it in so that the join can't be seen - don't. It doesn't work. It doesn't smooth. It crumbles.<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">And from this angle you can't see the joins (so much). A little wonky perhaps but a Battenberg nonetheless</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjEQhvykRqn6en4n9l37mrUWYNXcXVmy0FsWq4gOVMwy3ma1bLwOn5Y0ci7RaAZqWwFSyjZcB5T2nX0tJQTKAKtP0wiVmNCdI-2etMXqCbOQJUqJPcP_k247ALDKGgspGyZRbDs7LfsacN/s1600/P1010583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjEQhvykRqn6en4n9l37mrUWYNXcXVmy0FsWq4gOVMwy3ma1bLwOn5Y0ci7RaAZqWwFSyjZcB5T2nX0tJQTKAKtP0wiVmNCdI-2etMXqCbOQJUqJPcP_k247ALDKGgspGyZRbDs7LfsacN/s320/P1010583.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><br />
The cake was meant to be a present for LH who said Battenberg was one of her favourite cakes (I actually don't like it very much). I do a lot of voluntary work at the moment and LH helps run the office at <a href="http://seedsforafrica.com/">Seeds for Africa</a> where I help out once a week. She has just finished radiotherapy for breast cancer and so I wanted to do something nice for her. When I gave the said Battenberg to LH with profuse apologies for it's appearance she said 'you don't want home baked cakes to look like they have come from a shop do you'. I just laughed and thanked her for her kindness.<br />
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I then bumped into <a href="http://mrspao.com/">Mrs Pao</a> in town yesterday and over tea and cake showed her a photo of the Battenberg. She said she actually liked it all the more because it wasn't symmetrical. Again I laughed and thanked her for her kindness but when I got home I thought about both the above comments. <br />
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I do try <em>really, really</em> hard to make my cooking look like the recipe. I <em>want</em> to make perfect looking cakes, pies, cookies and meals but actually my cooking is no less lovely because of the way it looks. It generally tastes nice. And I get so much pleasure from the process of cooking, the giving and the comments I get about the taste. My cooking makes people <em>smile</em>. But because it doesn't look like it 'should' I always feel I can't make any sort of living from this occupation I so love doing. I can't possibly ask money for anything I make because it looks 'wrong'.<br />
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As a society we are so <em><strong>totally</strong></em> obsessed with looks in almost every aspect of our life and it brings <em>so</em> many problems to <em>so</em> many people who desire to measure up to 'societies' view of how things 'should be'. So, in the interests of optimism (which has been sadly lacking in my life lately) I am going to embrace my abilities to turn any recipe into a travesty/caricature of its popular image. <br />
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I shall see this as a career opportunity. I could start a bakery and call it Baking with Character or Quirky Cakes or Smiley Bun Time. I shall fly the flag for all of us who are made to feel inadequate by the Mary Berrys of this world. I shall strike a blow for all of us who are less than 'societies' perceived view of perfection. Wonky is good. Perfection is not necessary. Homely and comforting is the new Prozac. I will win the Noble Peace prize for reducing the stress levels of millions of ordinary cooks. I can write a book about how I got in touch with the hearts of so many people and brought harmony back into their lives. My television show will be networked to thousands of countries. My quirky cookery books will outsell Mary Berry, Delia, Lorraine, Rachel, James and Jamie. Ooooh, ooooh they will make a film about me!!! Meryl Streep will play me - have to go and adapt my oscar acceptance speech right now!<br />
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Now I wonder how I go about starting my new career?....................Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-50669116808530454322011-08-31T11:34:00.000-07:002011-08-31T11:34:45.321-07:00Project Spectrum - AugustI didn't seem to get myself together for the August <a href="http://projectspectrum.com/">Project Spectrum</a>. The colours were <strong><span style="color: magenta;">pink</span></strong> and <span style="color: #351c75;"><strong>purple </strong></span><span style="color: black;">and I started off alright</span>. I announced it to MG via the usual card<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHk5zdOrdEvK2wIkPmie4yuml-MbCTMEGChas1kl4sMD8gmjH-zxtAQmTiM4pp9iJwUSQCk_N5UC4OZIKwzlzIOmq1zB8bLZoDiPQpFOZK8VX7PQ83oi-W9_BfO8WAJwpOMnbqUi9AaGuv/s1600/P1010174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHk5zdOrdEvK2wIkPmie4yuml-MbCTMEGChas1kl4sMD8gmjH-zxtAQmTiM4pp9iJwUSQCk_N5UC4OZIKwzlzIOmq1zB8bLZoDiPQpFOZK8VX7PQ83oi-W9_BfO8WAJwpOMnbqUi9AaGuv/s200/P1010174.JPG" width="200" xaa="true" /></a></div><br />
We then had a day out with her Mum, AJ, and DS, an overseas visitor, during which I asked MG if she would be doing anything for the August project spectrum to which she replied 'No because I don't like pink'. She made this announcement wearing the pink dress and pink hairband she had dressed herself in that very morning and whilst she was drinking from this pink bottle<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSFHvFE-m2EgvC-_9LOalQX4kFaJPlpaMlMk_Nk_PuwjeXFq-LEgNbNEm-_UsZMdYyke2FFjqiIMzNXzCdMjYSMzSZrJjQgb1MxhnV8otWvLHkHhbNhnwslT0J9awD-_rcrnenEnlOq-rV/s1600/P1010251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSFHvFE-m2EgvC-_9LOalQX4kFaJPlpaMlMk_Nk_PuwjeXFq-LEgNbNEm-_UsZMdYyke2FFjqiIMzNXzCdMjYSMzSZrJjQgb1MxhnV8otWvLHkHhbNhnwslT0J9awD-_rcrnenEnlOq-rV/s200/P1010251.JPG" t$="true" width="150" /></a></div><br />
Oh to be eight again.<br />
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After that all I have to show are a few flowers I took photos of as I was passing them and none of which made it to the Project Spectrum website.<br />
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Oh and a pink teepee from The Secret Garden - don't see many of these about do you<br />
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</div>And that is it. All of which is a bit strange as I am surrounded by pink. Pink is the colour of healing and I seem to have collected a lot of pink items over the last few years. Just recently though I seem to be leaning towards yellow. Yellow is the colour of hope. And as luck would have it - September is <span style="color: black;">yellow. It is also MG's favourite colour so perhaps she may feel inclined to participate this time.</span><br />
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Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-90557157637767285022011-08-30T07:12:00.000-07:002011-08-30T07:12:00.945-07:00The Distant Hours<a href="http://mrspao.com/">Mrs Pao</a> and I were chatting on the way home from the Oyster Festival about a book we had both read when she turned to Pao and said 'you can tell we were literature students can't you' (for that is indeed where Mrs Pao and I met, at uni, 1995/6, in a lecture theatre - can't remember the name of the book we were studying though - there were <em>sooo</em> many - and she wasn't Mrs Pao then either) and I realised how much I missed talking about books. Especially now I have the opportunity to read more often at the moment.<br />
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I did start a reading group 10 months ago which is something I had wanted to do for <em>absolutely</em> ages. I didn't, at the time, have the confidence to do it on my own so CCV came in on it with me and we launched it one evening with a rather nice meal that took us all day to prepare, but which was worth it. There are eight of us, meeting every six weeks and taking it in turns to host the evening where much eating, drinking, chatting and merriment takes place. As a social group it works well, we are all different and all bring something of our own to the mix but a book group it isn't. <br />
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Once we watched a DVD but forgot to discuss it at the next meeting. Another time we played a book game which was interesting, fun and got our creative juices going except we kept forgetting what it was we were supposed to be doing, which might have been something to do with the wine. And, we have plans to go to an exhibition over the summer. On the occasions we do read a book we manage to discuss it for, <em>oooh</em>, all of ten minutes. So, I think I need to go and join a proper book group, one that doesn't clash with the one I'm already in obviously.<br />
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In the meantime I might write about a book or two I've read here to get it out of my system. Lucky you! Mrs Pao does it on her blog and I have noticed quite a few of the blogs I subscribe to also write book recommendations as well as all the foodie and photography stuff. I have started a list of books I would like to read just from reading about them on other blogs. <br />
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Not that I would go so far as to recommend a book because what I will see in a book may well be different to what someone else will see in the very same book, which is, of course, actually part of the joy of talking about a book. But if I let you know about books I've read whether I've liked them or not, and I have read some <em>baaad</em> books, then the choice is yours as to if you read them or not. But if you do you could always let me know what you thought about them. If you wanted to. It would be a sort of virtual book club conversation - sort of. Up to you.<br />
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So, I will start with the last book I read which was The Distant Hours by Kate Morton. I'd had this book for quite a while before reading it because I felt I had been coerced into buying it by an over enthusiastic, pushy sales assistant in Maidstone Waterstones. I was annoyed with myself for allowing that to happen so I punished the book by refusing to read it. However, I had to relent when I realised I only had three books left in my 'to read' pile and as I wanted an easy read this looked like it would have to be it.<br />
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Kate Morton said, in the back (p672) , that her 'favourite thing to hear from readers is 'I couldn't put it down but I didn't want it to end''. This was exactly how I felt about this book. I started by devouring it but as I got near the end and the realisation hit that my journey through the pages with the friends I had just met and cared for would soon be over I started to read <em>very</em> slowly in order to prolong the inevitable.<br />
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The story of the Sisters Blythe from their childhood at the beginning of the twentieth century to 1992, the year they meet Edie Birchill, is told both through the eyes of Edie and the third person narrative which fills in the gaps Edie isn't party to. Edie gets lost in Kent on her way back to London and by accident finds herself at Milderhurst Castle where her mother was evacuated during the war. Edie hadn't known about her mother's evacuation until a few days before when a previously lost fifty year old letter was delivered to her mother. Edie's mother, a distant woman, refuses to discuss her emotional response to the letter or any other details of her evacuation to Milderhurst. So, when Edie, fetches up outside the very place, she sets about unravelling what she sees as a mystery concerning her mothers past. And so the story of the three sisters and Edie's mother begins. It is a story that sheds a light on a very different way of life, in a different age with different expectations. It follows the impact of events that occurred fifty years ago but which still reverberate in the present day for people who were unaware of their happening.<br />
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To say it was an easy read was not a criticism. Perhaps I should say it was an effortless read. The chapters leap between 1992 and the war years and give the perspectives of several different characters which is not an easy thing to do. Kate Morton ranks alongside Margaret Attwood in her ability to do this without causing the reader the unnecessary rifling backwards and forwards through pages to see who is the narrator and what era they are in. I thought it was good story, well told. I found the plot intriguing and felt involved with the characters. I think I will definitely read another Kate Morton book in the hope it is as good as this one.Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-34059440710216807812011-08-21T10:49:00.000-07:002011-08-21T12:50:01.531-07:00The Gurkha ExperienceIt was my birthday in June and over the past couple of months I have been very, very lucky. My kind friends have taken me out for birthday treats. Instead of having my treats all centred around my actual birthday they have taken place over a couple of months so I have had a somewhat prolonged birthday which has been a rather excellent experience. <br />
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Most of my treats have been - funnily enough - food related. I do like to dine out. It is one of my most favourite things. And I love to find new and interesting places to eat. Well, PR and I found one such place in Maidstone. Maidstone is a barracks town with a strong Gurkha presence and some enterprising ex-gurkha's have opened the Gurkha Restaurant at 112 Week Street which is where we went to eat one Wednesday lunchtime a few weeks ago. Their charming website is <a href="http://gurkharestaurant.co.uk/">gurkharestaurant.co.uk</a><br />
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Previously a sort of greasy spoon type cafe it is quite small, holding possibly ten tables? I didn't actually count them. And the decor is completely white which makes it look a little clinical and boring but this could be an attempt to make it seem larger. Ambience matters to me so I am very glad that I didn't let the whiteness put me off because the food was amazing.<br />
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PR and I shared a starter of Channa Chat which was a dish of chickpeas cooked with chat masala in a cucumber and lemon sauce. It was a slightly lip tingly spiced dish with a clear sauce. There was no cucumber to be seen so I'm not sure how they made the sauce but it tasted quite pleasant. The portion was quite large so I'm glad we shared it.<br />
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For the main course we shared Hariyali Chicken, Chilli Masala King Prawns, Egg Fried Rice and Ghulio Roti with mango juice to drink. Hariyali Chicken was billed as being a 'Gurkha Speciality' and was so delicious (I am going to be using that word a lot). Breast of chicken cooked with mint, coriander and green sauce but it wasn't green or overly minty. All the flavours blended to make a smooth, tasty, warm (as in comforting warm) sauce poured over tender pieces of chicken. The Chilli Masala King Prawns packed a spicier punch but was far from overwhelming. The prawns were cooked with green chilli, pepper, onion and tomatoes with a garlic sauce. I like my spices a lot hotter than PR but we both found this to be to our liking. We had originally chosen the pilau rice to accompany it but the waiter offered us 'a good egg fried rice' which actually wasn't on the menu so we went for that and it was good. Sometimes egg fried rice can be a bit greasy but this wasn't. The Ghulio Roti was a pershwari naan stuffed with dry nuts and was so delicious. We perused the limited dessert menu and were on the point of deciding no when the waiter recommended the honeycomb ice-cream so we thought 'why not - there is always room for pudding' and so we did and are we glad we did. It was yummy. Creamy with a crispy caramel stirred through it. Having chosen Mango juice to drink I was concerned it would be either watery or cloyingly sweet and was relieved to find it was neither. It was pleasantly chilled with a fresh taste.<br />
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We very much liked the portion sizes. Apart from the starter, each dish was not an overwhelming amount. PR and I have eaten our way round quite a few places in Maidstone over the past few years - not that there are all that many restaurants there really - and one thing we struggle with is the portion size being way too big and these were just right. The starter aside, which we didn't finish partly because we didn't know what to expect next, we ate everything except one piece of naan. I did ask for the recipes but I wasn't given them which made me a bit sad so now I have to go and find a Nepalese cookbook because I want to be able to make food like that. <br />
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Each course was nicely presented on white triangular china, the cutlery and glasses were sparkling as was the table linen. And the staff couldn't have been more friendly or pleasant to us. It was fairly busy when we arrived but they still made time for us, didn't rush us and when we were the last to leave spent time chatting to us. My recipe request was denied in such gentlemanly way I felt I had been charmed.<br />
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I can't mention the price because it was a treat and I wasn't allowed to know but I don't think PR considered it to be expensive for what it was which was a very pleasant, pleasing and very, very delicious experience. One of the best meals I've had in a long time. And we both decided we will be going back there at Christmas so I do hope they have enough customers to keep them going until then. Oh yes and the loos were clean which is always always a good thing. I don't go back if the facilities are lacking and I would have hated it if I wasn't able to go back there.<br />
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My new career!!!! I think I would like a job as a restaurant reviewer please.Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-85978623393540280402011-08-17T02:16:00.000-07:002011-08-17T09:00:13.144-07:00Right sided people, stalls and corsetsThis was supposed to be a musing about time. I have been musing about time for a while now. Mainly my time, what I do with it and other people's perceptions of my time - because my time and what I do with it seems to be of concern to a few people. But. It's a big thing. Time. And I got myself so involvled in an inner philosophical debate as to the meaning of time for just about everyone that my poor grey cell was begging me to abandon it and move on.<br />
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So I am, for once, taking my own advice and moving on (although I haven't abandoned time entirely - I will not be beaten - my musings on time will appear here one of these days - I will suss out the time issue - and then I will write a book about it!!! <em>Yes!</em> future sorted!).<br />
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Anyway, in the meantime - here is what I spent some of my recent time doing...........<br />
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I enjoyed myself manning Mrs Pao's jewellery stall at Arts and Vintage fair at the Oyster Festival a couple of weeks ago. In fact I liked it so much that helping <a href="http://mrspao.com/">Mrs Pao</a> with her stalls is my new best thing to do and I have offered my services any time she needs me.<br />
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It was a bit of a funny set up though. Usually the fair is in the large main hall of the church but due to some sort of mix up the main hall, although empty for most of the day bar one rather loud woman who kept popping out unnecessarily to talk very loudly at us, was not available. So a <em>vast</em> number of stalls were <em>squashed</em> into the smaller hall while others of us were in the foyer and the ante room at the end of it. People were not happy. There was much muttering.<br />
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<div align="center">The Foyer</div><div align="center"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZlzeVpBSOP4-AdDIQT1d30zxNV0TBgpmCm8puXADlXLfVr63EE2I9J3TmjeUaop5TQsMr7zin-MFk9Pn4-zcY50ST70Xp7M0PABk_HIUZolP7zdwDrPsINJ2mCNfz6mg2rqEvvpRK3HA0/s1600/P1000863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZlzeVpBSOP4-AdDIQT1d30zxNV0TBgpmCm8puXADlXLfVr63EE2I9J3TmjeUaop5TQsMr7zin-MFk9Pn4-zcY50ST70Xp7M0PABk_HIUZolP7zdwDrPsINJ2mCNfz6mg2rqEvvpRK3HA0/s320/P1000863.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
That is me, the first stall on the left. It was not an advantageous position. This is the view from the double doors just inside the foyer which joined the two church halls together. The doors led to outside the building. These double doors were set back quite a way from the front of the two church halls. From the outside no-one knew we were there because they couldn't see us. The hall where most of the stalls were had 'come in and see us' banners hanging up outside and it's own front door through which people would go. Mind you, most of the stall holders in the hall didn't know we were there either until they ventured out to the loo (oh yes we were next to the loos too, nice) And this despite notices on the hall walls saying 'more stalls this way'! So how anyone expected visitors to come through is beyond me. <br />
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In a bid to get 'the punters' in, an enterprising man opened the doors so that at least we could be seen from outside, well a bit anyway. Unfortunately that meant Francine, on the stall opposite me, and I had to cover ourselves with scarves and woollies or freeze. A few folk wandered in but it wasn't until said enterprising man took a 'more stalls this way' notice and pinned it up outside the gates that we began to get more people in. Note to organisers regarding the power of advertising, it should actually include all your fee paying clients - otherwise they may not come back!! <br />
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Even so it cannot be said we were busy. Those who did venture into our realms were not spending money in any great quantity. The stall holders in the hall apparently didn't fare any better. 'Deadly' is how one man described it and a woman just packed up early and went home; there were so few people coming through. Of the four stalls in the foyer I was the only not to sell anything. I felt bad but Mrs Pao said not to worry she quite often didn't sell but picked up commissions and contacts. I didn't get any of those either. Mrs Pao fared a little better at the castle with a few sales but even there footfall was low and spending lower.<br />
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As I was on my own I was a little worried about breaks for the loo, lunch and beverages - but mainly loo breaks. Mrs Pao said she always tried to befriend another stall holder so she had cover for that situation. My anxiety levels started to rise at that comment because I feel I'm not too good at the befriending bit these days. However, my need to know I could go to the loo whenever I needed was stronger than my doubts and so I set about the business of getting to know people. I do rather feel I 'made' the other people talk to me but at least I had the loo breaks covered. I was also able to have a wander around the other stalls in the hall, which was how I came to know how squashed they were in there. <br />
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And so I whiled away the hours chatting, writing (about time), reading and people watching, a past-time I'm beginning to become quite fond of. I didn't just watch the customers, I noticed the creative folk as well. There are some seriously clever and talented people around. The quality of the items on show was amazing as was the artistic ability of the people who made them.<br />
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In our little corner sat Rachel (<a href="http://racheljanecrighton.co.uk/">racheljanecrighton.co.uk</a>) who made dear little dresses for small girls from vintage and reclaimed material under the name of <strong>Lily Urchin. </strong>At first I thought all the different patterned materials together in one dress was a bit too much but as the day went on they grew on me and when Rachel's little granddaughters came in dressed in the outfits I was won over. They looked so adorable. But what I really liked about Rachel's stall were her corsets. She makes the most divine corsets<br />
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<div align="center">You can't really see them but this one had butterflies on it. This was the one that was put in the doorway of the hall to try and entice people into the foyer</div><br />
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I so wish I could fit into one. She does make them to order but I don't think I shall be going there for a while. Rachel lives in a village near the one we used to live in before I escaped all those years ago, small world. She is also a farmers wife and spent most of the day knitting. Shades of <a href="http://pioneerwoman.com/">Pioneer Woman</a> I feel.<br />
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Rachel's daughter Francine <a href="http://francinerachel.com/">francinerachel</a> and her husband had the stall next to her and thus opposite me. They did romance. Ceramic hearts, metal hearts, doves, black metal rose coat hooks and other romance related items<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Francine is doing a degree in American Studies as a mature student and as I did my degree as a mature student with a high percentage of American history and literature we spent a bit of time talking about our experiences. Another small world encounter.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The other stall holder in our foyer was a woman whose name I didn't get which was a bit unfortunate as we mostly covered each others breaks. She was selling what used to be called bric-a-brac but is now called, I believe, vintage collectables. So I shall call her VC in lieu of her name. She seemed quite interesting having lived in different countries. No small world co-incidences there though. Although it had a distinct 70's feel her stall had items from different era's. And it was all so colourful. Mainly orange and yellow with some red and green, it drew you in. It was the stall that gathered the most interest out of the four of us.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>There were a few jewellery stalls there but, obvious bias aside, there was only one other that came close to Mrs Pao for quality and originality of design. Mrs Pao knits with wire which I think rather clever and then decorates her knitting with pearls and other stones. She also does this design in the form of tiaras for weddings or whenever one should feel the need of a tiara, they are not the exclusive premise of a wedding after all<br />
<div align="center"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCUa8Nw-1s8VW_OBFoMdTNiTYBVBeyrh5HumE0l_8D9nmBHJqHMHUd0KnRF6VF5Jgc61pTwAAEsmom6bfLYdrsosGaGbnbr6TMQfaO6kCXz5Sxh_2SXa0LzqzKhxPdsWDYuVn51XeGBg1/s1600/P1000871.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCUa8Nw-1s8VW_OBFoMdTNiTYBVBeyrh5HumE0l_8D9nmBHJqHMHUd0KnRF6VF5Jgc61pTwAAEsmom6bfLYdrsosGaGbnbr6TMQfaO6kCXz5Sxh_2SXa0LzqzKhxPdsWDYuVn51XeGBg1/s400/P1000871.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">here are some other necklace designs for more everyday wear perhaps</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0mCrw84uVm66-fT2pNK1y-PAbycI4dpTIkJ7_EIjMPLdBow1ig6VEEgsoeNMuxcF1bRIZon6ZlaxN0rmp1a7qzdQaX3sM6SdAnL-TENQlu393pFnQDDrM2qBWXRi2OONgwTOEjZte1is0/s1600/P1000870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0mCrw84uVm66-fT2pNK1y-PAbycI4dpTIkJ7_EIjMPLdBow1ig6VEEgsoeNMuxcF1bRIZon6ZlaxN0rmp1a7qzdQaX3sM6SdAnL-TENQlu393pFnQDDrM2qBWXRi2OONgwTOEjZte1is0/s320/P1000870.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and one of her bracelets</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6ILvAZxnc_gWYOJkXI4aGnHcQPfl7PtoeiBnuLAHe5MWR7RJKeCx3tSD_py5kcTvTjiBTd21Ehq5liAyFxzfh4Xzyj2FK8Kyg6xpCXFpGiCyTqGOTw7xOfUfqx8mNdsQ2Ysvbze-csK3/s1600/P1000872.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6ILvAZxnc_gWYOJkXI4aGnHcQPfl7PtoeiBnuLAHe5MWR7RJKeCx3tSD_py5kcTvTjiBTd21Ehq5liAyFxzfh4Xzyj2FK8Kyg6xpCXFpGiCyTqGOTw7xOfUfqx8mNdsQ2Ysvbze-csK3/s320/P1000872.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
she also made some really pretty earrings. Mrs Pao's jewellery website is called <a href="http://fishingforpearls.com/">fishingforpearls</a>. She also demonstrates her jewellery knitting on occasions. I am hoping to host one of her jewellery parties nearer Christmas.<br />
<br />
As the day wore on I got the distinct impression that my stall was being ignored so I went into people watching mode to see why this might be. In general people automatically looked to the right as they came in and so saw Francine's stall first. <br />
Because of the shape of the room when they lifted their head as they moved forward VC's stall was directly in their eye line so they were walking past my stall without really noticing it, plus VC's stall was hugely colourful. To move into the ante room at the end of the foyer from VC's stall they had to turn back to the right a little and so the colours of Rachel's dresses and corsets caught their eye. After their perusal of her clothing they just moved ahead into the ante-room. When they came out I think they assumed they had seen everything in the foyer because they just walked out looking straight ahead towards the doors. <br />
<br />
It was fascinating. I remembered what an ex boyfriend, who was an English teacher, told me about newspapers. He said, in general, there wasn't much in the way of important news on the left hand page of the newspapers (if you are holding it open towards you) because people didn't look at the left side much. They focused on the right. So the important news went on the right with adverts tending to be on the left. Advertisers had to pay a premium to get their advert on the right hand pages. I checked this out a bit at the time and there did seem to be a certain truth in it. This premise would seem to be the same for stalls too. <br />
<br />
<br />
Of course this wasn't the case with everyone. I did get some interest. People mainly came to my stall first if there were people at Francine's. Some people came straight to me. I was tempted to ask them if they were left handed but thought better of it. A rather strange question to ask complete strangers. And there were people who, when they came out of the ante-room, looked around the foyer again and then noticed me. I got to chat to some of the people who stopped by. I met a man who said he lived in Sri Lanka where he cut gems. We had quite a chat about Mrs Pao's stones. Two ladies and I had a discussion as to what constitutes an 'artisan'. Basically it is 'a skilled worker who makes things by hand' so we debated as to whether a mechanic could be called an artisan. No conclusion was reached.<br />
<br />
Anyways, the day finally over, Pao came to pick me up and we went up to the castle to find Mrs Pao, pack her up and go home. I went home with the Pao's and was allowed by their cats to cuddle them, a privilege I appreciated very much. Pao, bless him, treated me to a most delicious chinese meal which he had delivered as a thank you for standing in for him at such short notice when I truly didn't mind at all. I am seriously thinking of getting him cloned. We all had the meal by the way. I didn't sit there and eat it on my own, that would be rude not to mention rather weird. Sadly his illness forced Pao to retire early so Mrs Pao and I chatted for a while about cats and this and that. Then she took me home and presented me with a beautiful bunch of yellow flowers from her as a thank you. I did rather well out of this day I feel.<br />
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Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-25847844618535248982011-08-09T08:53:00.000-07:002011-08-09T08:57:19.766-07:00Domestic Goddess in training - just look what I did next........I went to MO's for dinner a while ago and spied on her kitchen table a recipe book her eldest daughter had brought home from uni. I am drawn to cookery books like a moth to a flame and so opened it up for a looksee and then spent the next half hour feverishly copying out recipes. I so often do this and I never, ever make the recipes so this time I was determined to make these and so I have. Well, I've finally made one. It was very, very nice and here it is<br />
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Chickpea Burgers - adapted from The Student Cookbook by Sam Stern.<br />
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<div align="center">It uses all the ingredients below</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh23E5Z7jsmfLQ_qaQTsXfH8xAidQQN4pMq1_CwYIzcXXKLJ6q4vYUEwXbs1lWlfkh_5miZxIp2XNXE3tU8VzGtndzw8-kEvi8kk2I92eE_lgdirqkblm8knpibop9qZpze8ZV086LU9bPG/s1600/P1000808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh23E5Z7jsmfLQ_qaQTsXfH8xAidQQN4pMq1_CwYIzcXXKLJ6q4vYUEwXbs1lWlfkh_5miZxIp2XNXE3tU8VzGtndzw8-kEvi8kk2I92eE_lgdirqkblm8knpibop9qZpze8ZV086LU9bPG/s320/P1000808.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I like to do the prep first so......</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Blitz 75g of bread into breadcrumbs</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-2WtTARxdVrPwO9sLetLcKlNXUu0zmbKQyGFLg2h5Yk-YO7AiaVnUK84bY0ullrr5Srcxf5EU0MNM9O3cx35nZC1yGI9PwfwPbmo4BAQTA2l-KEdMd1bYfL-2b3LXwWwDMByt0kg5sudG/s1600/P1000810.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-2WtTARxdVrPwO9sLetLcKlNXUu0zmbKQyGFLg2h5Yk-YO7AiaVnUK84bY0ullrr5Srcxf5EU0MNM9O3cx35nZC1yGI9PwfwPbmo4BAQTA2l-KEdMd1bYfL-2b3LXwWwDMByt0kg5sudG/s320/P1000810.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Take one onion, peel</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4jWHu_MdA19xs6uDmQqWTeWZgyc7A5eyD42o3Lx-Chyrkqi0Ip01Cn6VGtCXej63He56918bdyno9KDkoeF0OKE8aX_yuKJBSSwKEJrERqjuhptHdSr9KcfMg8_szo_bVk4V2Ks2aNG8O/s1600/P1000811.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4jWHu_MdA19xs6uDmQqWTeWZgyc7A5eyD42o3Lx-Chyrkqi0Ip01Cn6VGtCXej63He56918bdyno9KDkoeF0OKE8aX_yuKJBSSwKEJrERqjuhptHdSr9KcfMg8_szo_bVk4V2Ks2aNG8O/s320/P1000811.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and finely chop (this is what I call finely)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-EQDo7xL_od2hWvLY5tiNrQTLtSwir_8m_IIEjzgtoSoJMJJMtdticz_DrksyRk7BTBB8s_ZdA3NpTWOWiR_vrkbI4Yn2CNtqkbyO_y44tpJ65obcG7eeqx4kDal5swf_tsUXSfYfo6LE/s1600/P1000813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-EQDo7xL_od2hWvLY5tiNrQTLtSwir_8m_IIEjzgtoSoJMJJMtdticz_DrksyRk7BTBB8s_ZdA3NpTWOWiR_vrkbI4Yn2CNtqkbyO_y44tpJ65obcG7eeqx4kDal5swf_tsUXSfYfo6LE/s320/P1000813.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Two fat, juicy garlic cloves<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwnNnAVSDp0_btpC7Y3IZYOqHhQx_oUzAST3SOthhKgrQIEFxCalp_AruM7rBuTv4_TmbKKnemIFdi58ztdZ_TR3RwA2jz3qLY0mJTOfelCxO6GjCBY6Kb2VzCZeZ_nM83k6yQSsWi7_3/s1600/P1000814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwnNnAVSDp0_btpC7Y3IZYOqHhQx_oUzAST3SOthhKgrQIEFxCalp_AruM7rBuTv4_TmbKKnemIFdi58ztdZ_TR3RwA2jz3qLY0mJTOfelCxO6GjCBY6Kb2VzCZeZ_nM83k6yQSsWi7_3/s320/P1000814.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Peeled and crushed (I used a garlic crusher - Jamie's - not that I'm a name dropper - and it's not as easy as he makes it look......)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi22Z9_ECZGtugGPof6izULqR78zxWGvaITm0jPCnzCDvBJDG-3O58xKWnfm0OSYK_yB9FQ_76g4JZdsSe8LJMIurckWvY8_z2j2KKinpUGqOdqJ-iQ0ZunK3DYZ2gvN3QTuXG1zWx_2gOM/s1600/P1000816.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi22Z9_ECZGtugGPof6izULqR78zxWGvaITm0jPCnzCDvBJDG-3O58xKWnfm0OSYK_yB9FQ_76g4JZdsSe8LJMIurckWvY8_z2j2KKinpUGqOdqJ-iQ0ZunK3DYZ2gvN3QTuXG1zWx_2gOM/s320/P1000816.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">One dried chili (this depends on taste but I didn't think this was big enough, I added a pinch of crushed chillies as well)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6m7GLaTQsMODcFrOmFA-92wTNTyuOqEdHX47X8Ns2joPUsF-XbBLQHTpD5u4WZCVSbveAolH-PpcGVic1PauE7Mr94fYxB688OWTjSDMTNNMG1QmEOJp1l9JOLPRUyHmd1R0qMyW0zFTn/s1600/P1000818.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6m7GLaTQsMODcFrOmFA-92wTNTyuOqEdHX47X8Ns2joPUsF-XbBLQHTpD5u4WZCVSbveAolH-PpcGVic1PauE7Mr94fYxB688OWTjSDMTNNMG1QmEOJp1l9JOLPRUyHmd1R0qMyW0zFTn/s320/P1000818.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Crush it up and finely chop half a stick of lemongrass (forgot to photograph that bit - and I was doing so well)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfV2MpHVB9MRe0-BaIhirdKaQbGsLNCOARXcDNiLJBFrMdP8gbGuIyP3ELVRkJKEdJ5h31dBUjDRCZTUsV6CX7E2_aO8HfMElrV_cfHwwhodQstlaVT72ALl0ec80RqOLHzqBnqNt60Mvi/s1600/P1000820.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfV2MpHVB9MRe0-BaIhirdKaQbGsLNCOARXcDNiLJBFrMdP8gbGuIyP3ELVRkJKEdJ5h31dBUjDRCZTUsV6CX7E2_aO8HfMElrV_cfHwwhodQstlaVT72ALl0ec80RqOLHzqBnqNt60Mvi/s320/P1000820.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Juice and zest of one lime</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEZO7Hh_ndpLvbc7M0-O0uVLOpmwOYAtFzBfDS54LPTkKDWrf0Q8nloYKdtaSuAlsWgFuLRXn490rvJq-is47vi-p8rtYdZZglOyZEthXYBJ0pMJMlPKhpkP5_6co-NYeF4yrWGBwpjAk8/s1600/P1000821.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEZO7Hh_ndpLvbc7M0-O0uVLOpmwOYAtFzBfDS54LPTkKDWrf0Q8nloYKdtaSuAlsWgFuLRXn490rvJq-is47vi-p8rtYdZZglOyZEthXYBJ0pMJMlPKhpkP5_6co-NYeF4yrWGBwpjAk8/s320/P1000821.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Finely chop two tablespoons of coriander - this looks about right - generally I measure but sometimes I don't and this is one of those times </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYnZqsJBTEvImxo1zzv_PHS0q6Yz5y5pRglUIVrQYSC2civOdUH22Dv5HvSb0PAUrW4FrRYn4HbdFerdWvvzR05MnT7cqEKa0RUnVJFsaRcRePMwKxQT62sjZxSNXMPuTVTirchmNLZGNl/s1600/P1000823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYnZqsJBTEvImxo1zzv_PHS0q6Yz5y5pRglUIVrQYSC2civOdUH22Dv5HvSb0PAUrW4FrRYn4HbdFerdWvvzR05MnT7cqEKa0RUnVJFsaRcRePMwKxQT62sjZxSNXMPuTVTirchmNLZGNl/s320/P1000823.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">200g of chestnut mushrooms, wipe with a damp cloth</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUPqIjAilq3kRvW4XbRiQY40l1R7trenO6iOLKA0Gcia15LnVlqzl10y1aTxvZfxK08xEioBeHfdNp6ul9vqPhEXkjoMgl8HvEnBx0yFAZ8K5HZiEy-hsyGMFSjCK5eFo7meFdoqa6OlZ5/s1600/P1000824.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUPqIjAilq3kRvW4XbRiQY40l1R7trenO6iOLKA0Gcia15LnVlqzl10y1aTxvZfxK08xEioBeHfdNp6ul9vqPhEXkjoMgl8HvEnBx0yFAZ8K5HZiEy-hsyGMFSjCK5eFo7meFdoqa6OlZ5/s320/P1000824.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Finely chop <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3E5RF00Mm9hJQxt7iZLjiuflka3nOv41yNqwMtZTSlB3I4OLLCObFXWRaxKzNHM3UGd7aCv1M4sC9ZiSGtly93_WrZUuPHA6dOEE0mXiaMIHLKQ9XstaYEHV2y4FS425LGXWyaHbO_tj/s1600/P1000825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3E5RF00Mm9hJQxt7iZLjiuflka3nOv41yNqwMtZTSlB3I4OLLCObFXWRaxKzNHM3UGd7aCv1M4sC9ZiSGtly93_WrZUuPHA6dOEE0mXiaMIHLKQ9XstaYEHV2y4FS425LGXWyaHbO_tj/s320/P1000825.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">One 410g tin of chickpeas, drained, rinsed and semi blitzed with stick blender or a fork -</div><div style="text-align: center;">I think this was a bit too blitzed</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXecmdQDZLkUINsGZYYDaJ6w4oZ4otdkvbz4PVWDnRuolfIOM8Zk9cBbA7DK4-MuKoM936WnyMYYcPLF56StQrQ-WZV07j5IEkEpXsonrB8Or6pYNw-axNBvpnxtDMBXqBjEOikokY2nj9/s1600/P1000832.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXecmdQDZLkUINsGZYYDaJ6w4oZ4otdkvbz4PVWDnRuolfIOM8Zk9cBbA7DK4-MuKoM936WnyMYYcPLF56StQrQ-WZV07j5IEkEpXsonrB8Or6pYNw-axNBvpnxtDMBXqBjEOikokY2nj9/s320/P1000832.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Prep done</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8HH2npK731M7hgRBJP7RXTIj1LGZe0kjAzitButrU-EsyRR1vIStoItGgqEZGMWBZL5L5IYQ45U2CeB7VuaAVKkl5WTZTXVBTnzWn2zfdk7DQwDr47EnNyw-CHLK4qbMe_Fr3-lVTOqi/s1600/P1000833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8HH2npK731M7hgRBJP7RXTIj1LGZe0kjAzitButrU-EsyRR1vIStoItGgqEZGMWBZL5L5IYQ45U2CeB7VuaAVKkl5WTZTXVBTnzWn2zfdk7DQwDr47EnNyw-CHLK4qbMe_Fr3-lVTOqi/s320/P1000833.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>3 tablespoons of olive oil into a pan and heat - I shall have to get new pans if I intend to do this again methinks<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8dns0DKIDrjqtJT1uPOMhfwj3WoS2F0vJOH0DR9i-NniU3gVqc3sJIzCgKxbzg5gI3_zlhFfk6EoXJ7InQgT9gfOZHWUpEHqhne20htIeF58Tqk3hFB2HrvG4uI10O2Z2WQfoOKMGS0AX/s1600/P1000834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8dns0DKIDrjqtJT1uPOMhfwj3WoS2F0vJOH0DR9i-NniU3gVqc3sJIzCgKxbzg5gI3_zlhFfk6EoXJ7InQgT9gfOZHWUpEHqhne20htIeF58Tqk3hFB2HrvG4uI10O2Z2WQfoOKMGS0AX/s320/P1000834.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Add onions and cook gently for about 3 minutes then add garlic and cook for another 2 minutes until softened</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisCP9g4RMi_enBR_g9yBv_MGGmSH_a5IXbM8XsiC1_e75Aw_Lz5a9FUmWyX2gDoJZWzxThUV3Pyj5j6EZ8zhAR2qBfm3O8knDZM3gEUsM5NKtY5y1nuPrh_kW1MYwZ93dnxdFxcN7-Zx24/s1600/P1000837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisCP9g4RMi_enBR_g9yBv_MGGmSH_a5IXbM8XsiC1_e75Aw_Lz5a9FUmWyX2gDoJZWzxThUV3Pyj5j6EZ8zhAR2qBfm3O8knDZM3gEUsM5NKtY5y1nuPrh_kW1MYwZ93dnxdFxcN7-Zx24/s320/P1000837.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Add chilli, ras-el-hanout, lemongrass and turmeric and cook whilst stirring for 3 minutes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFlklpKTh6urR_2VitzbSV64iCSyKdaCmfJFesn5iwde6CiCDPIq-FD4ktkrbs80B5XKMad6NhPnjWGbVf1EI7cOUTCIfouTbryYWOD88wmD4fIGWd5f6BCVUS9IkODpWEetj52-a4Q_cb/s1600/P1000838.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFlklpKTh6urR_2VitzbSV64iCSyKdaCmfJFesn5iwde6CiCDPIq-FD4ktkrbs80B5XKMad6NhPnjWGbVf1EI7cOUTCIfouTbryYWOD88wmD4fIGWd5f6BCVUS9IkODpWEetj52-a4Q_cb/s320/P1000838.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Add mushrooms and lime juice and cook for 5 minutes. Remove from heat.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQ1Asz67d-GVSaFGWz27AQ53FrjtuklORUhIHcQCdITb1ObWY2bVREpc18axFf3HRvyourYR3OL7AsjA46gIJfEJYYwSkHYB6kWZoeDOHDQAa_H5dGS_WHOu24D-DI4BfuBfmGpQkvS23/s1600/P1000841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQ1Asz67d-GVSaFGWz27AQ53FrjtuklORUhIHcQCdITb1ObWY2bVREpc18axFf3HRvyourYR3OL7AsjA46gIJfEJYYwSkHYB6kWZoeDOHDQAa_H5dGS_WHOu24D-DI4BfuBfmGpQkvS23/s320/P1000841.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Add to blitzed chickpeas</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YAJRBixDMCEwq6orEHegr7BqA_rp-3dH94qVVm6_tdaAwx-Y6wE6WaQP2YDONuRjhYDGLEYuQgBF1eAZLkq0E9mQJUNBolHtXd4-OA8f0dGJrcvUGtM8OlwXtu-XO9ofCznrjrT3Jb8D/s1600/P1000842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YAJRBixDMCEwq6orEHegr7BqA_rp-3dH94qVVm6_tdaAwx-Y6wE6WaQP2YDONuRjhYDGLEYuQgBF1eAZLkq0E9mQJUNBolHtXd4-OA8f0dGJrcvUGtM8OlwXtu-XO9ofCznrjrT3Jb8D/s320/P1000842.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Add the breadcrumbs (remembering to remove the blade first of course) and a few shakes of Tabasco, the coriander, salt and pepper</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RTIW17f2zJ4AwQUuS7UTbDz17ypoX8-GgFigHRIsZkWKnVypWOhNekBvT5r4b8YJ6iNawwEe9JbAGVwGkjFh-JM0Uv3W2AMeltyXcnc2P9oq9cm9XdyMvGXkMkc5B2Oanbc3ijdaaQnE/s1600/P1000843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RTIW17f2zJ4AwQUuS7UTbDz17ypoX8-GgFigHRIsZkWKnVypWOhNekBvT5r4b8YJ6iNawwEe9JbAGVwGkjFh-JM0Uv3W2AMeltyXcnc2P9oq9cm9XdyMvGXkMkc5B2Oanbc3ijdaaQnE/s320/P1000843.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mix well</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbw4Si7BGhpYBkqE8_cpTLI-idZlsqWln_n0UHPP12om9B9re7YJOTNvFAZ_CORJnXc9BmD2tQ6FXUjKaCZJYrO3bU6r09CEyHY29fnLG2CNpTCeLBrzjCxA4QgF91TqlpyNK7pAnH6WvQ/s1600/P1000844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbw4Si7BGhpYBkqE8_cpTLI-idZlsqWln_n0UHPP12om9B9re7YJOTNvFAZ_CORJnXc9BmD2tQ6FXUjKaCZJYrO3bU6r09CEyHY29fnLG2CNpTCeLBrzjCxA4QgF91TqlpyNK7pAnH6WvQ/s320/P1000844.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Have a taste to check seasoning</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6c9sV8Bi4nbBdliiUxakXlFiUXerUJVxxXw8wYrOBo_KhWLybpw8WCjHFFKWuC5GLyZHWvAeS0xFg0_tS2dCVWdk8W5eZYaeUVHRrnFAEdDzY2rFoG5-Wy63uQjxFU7BlF_zSPCaQkf5A/s1600/P1000848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6c9sV8Bi4nbBdliiUxakXlFiUXerUJVxxXw8wYrOBo_KhWLybpw8WCjHFFKWuC5GLyZHWvAeS0xFg0_tS2dCVWdk8W5eZYaeUVHRrnFAEdDzY2rFoG5-Wy63uQjxFU7BlF_zSPCaQkf5A/s320/P1000848.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">then flour hands and a board and shape the mixture into 6 burgers and roll each one in the flour to coat</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgjQhr9KVHRTRS2Y8f4kZzOFzjDH6bmsIzDt_0fymIwtE9jOvxSseTah1c3E_8djYsU6yaTwhSenfBdAvF47APXfgG9D5aDmFg00GFRVk2KXqhre-JvPipc5aNEgfPRy2RadUin-9j1kLq/s1600/P1000849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgjQhr9KVHRTRS2Y8f4kZzOFzjDH6bmsIzDt_0fymIwtE9jOvxSseTah1c3E_8djYsU6yaTwhSenfBdAvF47APXfgG9D5aDmFg00GFRVk2KXqhre-JvPipc5aNEgfPRy2RadUin-9j1kLq/s320/P1000849.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">like this - these have been coated in flour - it just disappeared though. I think the juice of one lime was a wee bit too much - depends on the size of the lime I suppose</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgbezyk_DqVLD_CZOD46obbzK18AsFTSdOy9qDJQYpJgRzBVN6QwaEK-OK0IKfJiQEm03CVwUtIrMo3BmTYSnlHH5F7sM3jE27zaDRO0FEIEpLUhmmDD5wN5lGWnBBX3_Kd9KDr7QrctfN/s1600/P1000850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgbezyk_DqVLD_CZOD46obbzK18AsFTSdOy9qDJQYpJgRzBVN6QwaEK-OK0IKfJiQEm03CVwUtIrMo3BmTYSnlHH5F7sM3jE27zaDRO0FEIEpLUhmmDD5wN5lGWnBBX3_Kd9KDr7QrctfN/s320/P1000850.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">being a spatially challenged person I made 7</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirvJF6zJdUFnx1BOrlcXSADCfkKS5ffgwfXdXQk1aJj7h-Sp5coos8PfJbOEoL_2PhpLTVgLiGLjtCgCxhh51HnuLlcqOjFvoutG388fyrZat_i2LhZEQAPUovtTMBfadUwJvNcsKMs22m/s1600/P1000853.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirvJF6zJdUFnx1BOrlcXSADCfkKS5ffgwfXdXQk1aJj7h-Sp5coos8PfJbOEoL_2PhpLTVgLiGLjtCgCxhh51HnuLlcqOjFvoutG388fyrZat_i2LhZEQAPUovtTMBfadUwJvNcsKMs22m/s320/P1000853.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">pop into the fridge to chill for at least 15 minutes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-3kllJesmSxF3EVs1Gp7kHSPsaL94rSTAVFOKdQp7Xt43-ePhyJiK_IsR-5D7SF2rUyyRvZxI64xODC1FWOAwRy4N6NNr4cnl_H07S0DB0F9F5_y2Ui5dOZu2rQ_ZKezFQbWhasK-Yx2f/s1600/P1000854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-3kllJesmSxF3EVs1Gp7kHSPsaL94rSTAVFOKdQp7Xt43-ePhyJiK_IsR-5D7SF2rUyyRvZxI64xODC1FWOAwRy4N6NNr4cnl_H07S0DB0F9F5_y2Ui5dOZu2rQ_ZKezFQbWhasK-Yx2f/s320/P1000854.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After chilling put a little coarse polenta on a plate (this is far too much polenta for 2 burgers! I froze the other 5)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-i3ZZhXsjFWNp8tK_1pnmz3I01Cae4w5saCnjAO3IVibDzMCiYo3CSdtFa996x_n1mLa_ocxXmH6kBdiS-qGTTOlKieWC61dOFGwgNqGic_uIfT7_Jhy4x0KZtfjft4VUyyfsyGl_zWZ9/s1600/P1010136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-i3ZZhXsjFWNp8tK_1pnmz3I01Cae4w5saCnjAO3IVibDzMCiYo3CSdtFa996x_n1mLa_ocxXmH6kBdiS-qGTTOlKieWC61dOFGwgNqGic_uIfT7_Jhy4x0KZtfjft4VUyyfsyGl_zWZ9/s320/P1010136.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Coat the chickpea burgers in the polenta</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg95_zPrem6IrUmJ6YzWL1s0IkGIby4wsuEjc6JiQ3nh40na568ERfjAsqcxrl61TKWOtDpEBg7mQBxUz0ssIRc42xyqa-ooXRK6DEyTq-m4VII1o8kt6iIz3VRafzdOOUDEM9CDTW5Yw7B/s1600/P1010137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg95_zPrem6IrUmJ6YzWL1s0IkGIby4wsuEjc6JiQ3nh40na568ERfjAsqcxrl61TKWOtDpEBg7mQBxUz0ssIRc42xyqa-ooXRK6DEyTq-m4VII1o8kt6iIz3VRafzdOOUDEM9CDTW5Yw7B/s320/P1010137.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> fry in a little oil for 5 minutes each side or until cooked through</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWenAY6jhK_sx1sKWiO8dI8L99-Z4j6BrVq4f1kJx_rISYvHv0izrw3LzNdf9i73ZoGUUokUtuei-1HD0j-SN4Yh1HER87qfcgV_mYGPXaUMyUhSfIQ03tJT8utn4YEDjNRT-epF87yC3O/s1600/P1010138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWenAY6jhK_sx1sKWiO8dI8L99-Z4j6BrVq4f1kJx_rISYvHv0izrw3LzNdf9i73ZoGUUokUtuei-1HD0j-SN4Yh1HER87qfcgV_mYGPXaUMyUhSfIQ03tJT8utn4YEDjNRT-epF87yC3O/s320/P1010138.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and eat. However you wish.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnN0YB0fTe1b4pr-iFIvPFzzJJih5sIjDI8V2bvScffQPQeQRhzh__Od1QmRVkAMi0l3nLPV4qrISJAS7cdoSz1tXsrum3-Lj6q7IjaHVic-tgd14JljAygXeDQdfGXcmuaPPYecaVtyr5/s1600/P1010142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnN0YB0fTe1b4pr-iFIvPFzzJJih5sIjDI8V2bvScffQPQeQRhzh__Od1QmRVkAMi0l3nLPV4qrISJAS7cdoSz1tXsrum3-Lj6q7IjaHVic-tgd14JljAygXeDQdfGXcmuaPPYecaVtyr5/s320/P1010142.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I put mine into a toasted ciabatta roll with sweetcorn relish, salad leaves, cucumber, spring onion, radish and beetroot.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Yummy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Top tip - next time I make them, and there will be a next time, I shall chill the mixture <em>before</em> shaping into burgers - this may make them a little less sticky to handle.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I really enjoyed doing this, even though it took <em>ages</em> and I can't believe it went alright!! Domestic Goddessdom here I come - or I might go for a career in food styling - or I could have a soup and burger stall - hmmmm - the career choices are improving or at least increasing.......</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Recipe adapted from The Student Cookbook by Sam Stern which is available on Amazon </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">3tbs Olive Oil</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">110 g onion, finely diced</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1 small dried chilli, crumbled</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2 tsp ras-el-hanout (Moroccan spice found in most supermarkets - original recipe used </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> 1 tsp ground cumin and 1tsp ground coriander)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1/4 tsp turmeric</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1 tsp lemongrass paste or 1/2 piece of fresh, finely chopped</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">200g chestnut mushrooms, finely chopped</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Juice and zest of one lime</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1 x 400g tin chickpeas, rinsed and drained</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">75g breadcrumbs</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">few shakes of Tabasco</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2tbsp fresh coriander, finely chopped</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">salt and pepper</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">white flour for coating</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">olive oil for frying</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">coarse polenta for coating</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Heat olive oil in pan, cook onions very gently for 3 minutes, add garlic and cook for a further 2 minutes until softened but not coloured.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Add the chilli, ras-el-hanout, turmeric and lemongrass. Cook and stir for 3 minutes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Add mushrooms and lime juice and cook for 5 minutes. Remove from heat.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mixed crushed chickpeas with vegetable mixture and breadcrumbs, Tabasco, coriander, salt and pepper.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Spread flour onto board. Flour hands. Shape mixture into 6 burgers, handling gently. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Roll in flour to coat.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Chill in fridge for at least 15 minutes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Put some coarse polenta on a plate.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Coat burgers in the polenta.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Fry in a little oil for 5 minutes each side or until cooked through.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-65879033450182075072011-07-29T09:30:00.000-07:002011-07-30T08:57:53.979-07:00Project Spectrum - July<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><strong>July</strong></span> was <span style="color: blue;"><strong>blue. </strong></span><span style="color: black;">Which was a bit challenging because the only blue I could think of was the sky and there are already the most spectacular blue skies on the web site and I couldn't think of any blue food. There are blueberries but I believe, technically, they are purple. I could have made blue icing to put on a cake but blue food doesn't really appeal. Also blue is not very high on my list of favourite colours. Having said that I do seem to have a lot of blue jewellery</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEv1oeEuHJVtWl8oD_1wod9GkYp47pElaTrhiHdD91I2mhyphenhyphenkY_rUqB0UbLcYNk5pJiQIbGJ8cjqapbQ602HmKUnfjmfVaoj8F0E_8aKTH8HciOQ0Y-p_XygtA3tnPXsBsq6Eoe5CDn-KOu/s1600/P1010117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEv1oeEuHJVtWl8oD_1wod9GkYp47pElaTrhiHdD91I2mhyphenhyphenkY_rUqB0UbLcYNk5pJiQIbGJ8cjqapbQ602HmKUnfjmfVaoj8F0E_8aKTH8HciOQ0Y-p_XygtA3tnPXsBsq6Eoe5CDn-KOu/s200/P1010117.JPG" t$="true" width="150" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I made this card for MG as she is interested in the colours for the months. Not sure if she is going to actually do anything with the colours though because when I asked her if she was going to make something she replied 'Um, might do' - she is a very busy 8 year old.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRcxl8hxRzuFa267XXTEOxmygFVpH5luGyYsTPGw9pEz5BVfzIXnURu36FyxP-YBRddl_l0ZOuQ2jnDkzisllluhx0gqiC1iChLlAtcxMpJpEOLnb_VXswY-LS3w1kpLTOKIAhRCKwJfJO/s1600/P1000796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRcxl8hxRzuFa267XXTEOxmygFVpH5luGyYsTPGw9pEz5BVfzIXnURu36FyxP-YBRddl_l0ZOuQ2jnDkzisllluhx0gqiC1iChLlAtcxMpJpEOLnb_VXswY-LS3w1kpLTOKIAhRCKwJfJO/s200/P1000796.JPG" t$="true" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And then it's back to the trusty camera to discover the blue bits of life out and about</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Saw this boat in Whitstable harbour looking rather blue as it doesn't look like it will be going anywhere soon....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8VTzcW3yEYXSHkSNkScaoKEgol4iD_gMCN9sw8ieYAI0SzinvQkcy90N3cMKSxy-mIZNLks3gQP-c4V57vOhrmFFEuQ9a12lt2jg6JnMHOqRd9Y6UfZIz8DanKcM5x_-3ZQDV0cmzcI1u/s1600/P1000698.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8VTzcW3yEYXSHkSNkScaoKEgol4iD_gMCN9sw8ieYAI0SzinvQkcy90N3cMKSxy-mIZNLks3gQP-c4V57vOhrmFFEuQ9a12lt2jg6JnMHOqRd9Y6UfZIz8DanKcM5x_-3ZQDV0cmzcI1u/s320/P1000698.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I liked this as it brings together all the colours of the past 3 months. Red/orange, green and blue.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheWIc5JRzIwINKSvVYzbc3a4GfkhsAD7Y8yNrlhOyWhhXLESCuH7qSWWQAa_vKOkyk7oYqL3GQf5nKO-Q7hp7EltuSTUQ1Gf7vTDT3TzmBLU3PXtX5msWI2yCPH1P1qyp_xDYf1lyYXc5i/s1600/P1000694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheWIc5JRzIwINKSvVYzbc3a4GfkhsAD7Y8yNrlhOyWhhXLESCuH7qSWWQAa_vKOkyk7oYqL3GQf5nKO-Q7hp7EltuSTUQ1Gf7vTDT3TzmBLU3PXtX5msWI2yCPH1P1qyp_xDYf1lyYXc5i/s320/P1000694.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I looked after a stall for <a href="http://mrspao.com/">Mrs Pao</a> at the Whitstable Oyster Festival and on one of the other stalls were these gorgeous corsets. They are made by <a href="http://racheljanecrighton.co.uk/">racheljanecrighton</a> and are so beautifully made - and she takes commissions.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOqIRM-gWr3dvqjBuPlj1qjBhd-UuHQAx6cD3YO-Itx7Unb7rKAMR9_iXpb3qtL93buqZjC3VE9xSDECwLF73JoedDGgpVla4Sfh2dmV_h4l35hEiffLhXfLd7BBwd2kDi0fj8pgWMK_G2/s1600/P1000865.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOqIRM-gWr3dvqjBuPlj1qjBhd-UuHQAx6cD3YO-Itx7Unb7rKAMR9_iXpb3qtL93buqZjC3VE9xSDECwLF73JoedDGgpVla4Sfh2dmV_h4l35hEiffLhXfLd7BBwd2kDi0fj8pgWMK_G2/s320/P1000865.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Pretty blue flowers from The Secret Garden in Sandwich, no idea what they are called though</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoL7-0w2Gsv5TycfimlDsU-QCDODsNUdQBsbD9Zo134ker0s86Tw3LCU_DmH61LHXM_eHVdUtrh4FEuBRmfFBA_MvqCPXwgOMC2BCU2nggozoUDLv34Nhydjq5c7wNpAZ8fGZEuVs3Jafv/s1600/P1000905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoL7-0w2Gsv5TycfimlDsU-QCDODsNUdQBsbD9Zo134ker0s86Tw3LCU_DmH61LHXM_eHVdUtrh4FEuBRmfFBA_MvqCPXwgOMC2BCU2nggozoUDLv34Nhydjq5c7wNpAZ8fGZEuVs3Jafv/s320/P1000905.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">These funny prickly things have got blue stems!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWiQk7OuFYUJn4Et28jWO4YgWAQpURZZ5AHYkxYju6VsamcdfwOtD2Eaf8dPyrMUo9Q9z74gv-gyCEbqLaQDxpYvC-EgaN6kAvQxdVZLrCLZ6xHqdJc4yi7pXBljWgu7VFUDp1JkQddsgJ/s1600/P1000889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWiQk7OuFYUJn4Et28jWO4YgWAQpURZZ5AHYkxYju6VsamcdfwOtD2Eaf8dPyrMUo9Q9z74gv-gyCEbqLaQDxpYvC-EgaN6kAvQxdVZLrCLZ6xHqdJc4yi7pXBljWgu7VFUDp1JkQddsgJ/s320/P1000889.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I did try to leave blue sky out of this but I looked up and decided to try and be artistic again. Blue sky as seen through the roof of a pagoda in the middle of the gardens. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBT-PaP3DIaAIAEek7nkl9_0QsSjWC1F7q4McKt9see_4wEi-zLJ_tDptjor1UdYy4F_XIGAZIpYoETPmwykiyBLMuqgYdLAgzbVi5jneXFi783q7f9jmqHCsv_I7PnH8LyYDU7UfN5lQc/s1600/P1010023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBT-PaP3DIaAIAEek7nkl9_0QsSjWC1F7q4McKt9see_4wEi-zLJ_tDptjor1UdYy4F_XIGAZIpYoETPmwykiyBLMuqgYdLAgzbVi5jneXFi783q7f9jmqHCsv_I7PnH8LyYDU7UfN5lQc/s320/P1010023.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Back at MO's garden. Blue plant pots. Such a place of discovery, that garden. I wonder if I will be able to find all the colours there?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzbqKMYv_ns29ArWU4hR1k4GpDfvG2ZQIuVnIU7nzk-RM86saIhbhwDhbtnTSSxoHDj2Lyy2RzAhWjCd186Z_NjgKn3EVD_P0g4TZfwABbh53fS1_XzkKz_muJlGXSMct5sYxv82WJADlH/s1600/P1010102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzbqKMYv_ns29ArWU4hR1k4GpDfvG2ZQIuVnIU7nzk-RM86saIhbhwDhbtnTSSxoHDj2Lyy2RzAhWjCd186Z_NjgKn3EVD_P0g4TZfwABbh53fS1_XzkKz_muJlGXSMct5sYxv82WJADlH/s320/P1010102.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Then I spotted a big blue tent being erected in a car park</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmAeemFfOP8liGydVJ2d32kKc2E4zUaW28RX_myMAYIxnsAoIbdTlxFH__CqqIXmp4M7Nb3d2vgBzyzLGFxkpu1OfahSdcL_dznpov6vW8fhdr1h6iWo2ygs3YHAZ5iO0kgyKKnIebUVBt/s1600/P1010152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmAeemFfOP8liGydVJ2d32kKc2E4zUaW28RX_myMAYIxnsAoIbdTlxFH__CqqIXmp4M7Nb3d2vgBzyzLGFxkpu1OfahSdcL_dznpov6vW8fhdr1h6iWo2ygs3YHAZ5iO0kgyKKnIebUVBt/s320/P1010152.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I saw these berries while out walking. I don't know what they are but they definitely look blue to me</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYML9c8LFxyfz5EahmWtH5dMHJ6N6aPmmgj__BSC7VT5KrVCmq4c8xmBaT0ySIo2HurtHcJEopICOkVgiZhncQD8VSKfRZvbDHXGRPOyp5l8xaPKhY-S2AGXbm6KO7RTyZM4VrHadckf42/s1600/P1010146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYML9c8LFxyfz5EahmWtH5dMHJ6N6aPmmgj__BSC7VT5KrVCmq4c8xmBaT0ySIo2HurtHcJEopICOkVgiZhncQD8VSKfRZvbDHXGRPOyp5l8xaPKhY-S2AGXbm6KO7RTyZM4VrHadckf42/s320/P1010146.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">One of my favourite places to go and watch the world go by (or rather - come in). See the sailor in the blue jumper just behind - clever huh!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzNwbj8KV2NDNf8_nwu9EPN5wbF3MaMr_VboRGrCddDpi3Z-s4tUqCHhMni-Z6Yc1jq5djSUN8SjUM-s-3hU2ZBDS2aDb-sxSu4g_OZXadkjwhvVVP2XhmLBKB_L33NUEBb1INPl3emcEE/s1600/P1010103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzNwbj8KV2NDNf8_nwu9EPN5wbF3MaMr_VboRGrCddDpi3Z-s4tUqCHhMni-Z6Yc1jq5djSUN8SjUM-s-3hU2ZBDS2aDb-sxSu4g_OZXadkjwhvVVP2XhmLBKB_L33NUEBb1INPl3emcEE/s320/P1010103.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My favourite place to go when I feel blue and am in need of good food</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkuazP5HxISXf-tBVKlDKT-F3xvngRQmBIsEVVZvd67cAIgf4zGDrtOCIlLvcrECGk5Gf9wfoBR99KiRyVMWgXYh7yjiHVl19rx_zOxQNCHOSUTf8kwIxqahZHyMG2-7__8r6hGnD20y9/s1600/P1010112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkuazP5HxISXf-tBVKlDKT-F3xvngRQmBIsEVVZvd67cAIgf4zGDrtOCIlLvcrECGk5Gf9wfoBR99KiRyVMWgXYh7yjiHVl19rx_zOxQNCHOSUTf8kwIxqahZHyMG2-7__8r6hGnD20y9/s320/P1010112.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Well, I found more blue in the world than I thought I would which is one of the reasons I like <a href="http://projectspectrum.com/">Project Spectrum</a>. It encourages observation and creativity. Nice. </div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">And so to August which is <span style="background-color: white; color: magenta;">pink!!!</span></div>Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-58582755091675291342011-07-26T05:00:00.000-07:002011-07-26T05:06:33.678-07:00Another SundayNot all Sundays are bad (most, but not all) and last Sunday was one of the good ones. <br />
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It was a lovely sunny day, hot but not too hot, and my dear friend MO collected me at 12.30 for a day with her and her family.<br />
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We firstly went for a mooch round the supermarket - I don't usually get a chance to mooch and I am one of those weird people who like supermarket shopping so I love a good mooch - and I bought far too much fruit. I'll never get through it all before it goes off. I shall have to google 'too much fruit' and see what comes up.<br />
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Then we had a sandwich and cherries at MO's before going to The Secret Garden at the Salutation Gardens in Sandwich. The only time I had been there was to have lunch in the cafe. It was the most delicious and generous Ploughmans I have ever had, but I didn't visit the garden. <br />
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Well, it's hard to know what to say. I could string together a whole list of superlatives in an attempt to describe this wonderful place but none of them would do it justice. So I will let some photo's showcase it for you. But then there is the difficulty of choosing which of the 235 I took to show. Yes, I took 235 photos in one and a half hours and we didn't get all the way round<em>. So we are going again - I am so excited</em>. Anyway here are a few photos of The Secret Garden (and considering how many I took - these are only a few)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVFsOnZlOEGtV_Iq6G1U33v9dC9F7IIC4fZNz0xyoeI14iDol-f7LNZpnpqhFGZs_emV5UdDOMrGrXkHjxAjzlZDz9DGaBV0CH-TrDcDSDNDSKeqQxMZMmVICtrqa-ZP8dYOhnm0aS55xZ/s1600/P1000881.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVFsOnZlOEGtV_Iq6G1U33v9dC9F7IIC4fZNz0xyoeI14iDol-f7LNZpnpqhFGZs_emV5UdDOMrGrXkHjxAjzlZDz9DGaBV0CH-TrDcDSDNDSKeqQxMZMmVICtrqa-ZP8dYOhnm0aS55xZ/s320/P1000881.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKMPTRP79CVmMQWF_uxr0jAM2pB8Qo2hTB5VoJ4L9o-D41GTZQE75mzZcXEl8py78dhcyYk9B-nMsKyyVp9VgneoBvd0krPEtKJSBNfNR8i8loU9-O8vBIRMWHBNQDm9TPB27L_FG9fdQf/s1600/P1000889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKMPTRP79CVmMQWF_uxr0jAM2pB8Qo2hTB5VoJ4L9o-D41GTZQE75mzZcXEl8py78dhcyYk9B-nMsKyyVp9VgneoBvd0krPEtKJSBNfNR8i8loU9-O8vBIRMWHBNQDm9TPB27L_FG9fdQf/s320/P1000889.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">Look - blue stems - never seen that before!</div><div align="center"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlEb-dVlde0cZIqGtqBUbvD6EH40yBBRwj_qqyORVMDcWLLgvkNR6x7C73VWY9V1YuFxh2j98LFp-ovW82JqLcNsh01PmSn2ekAt1BgiWN2kFbT3oPNk4J_NQtQTWG51xeazujw41o87AH/s1600/P1000906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlEb-dVlde0cZIqGtqBUbvD6EH40yBBRwj_qqyORVMDcWLLgvkNR6x7C73VWY9V1YuFxh2j98LFp-ovW82JqLcNsh01PmSn2ekAt1BgiWN2kFbT3oPNk4J_NQtQTWG51xeazujw41o87AH/s320/P1000906.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> The Secret Garden is one of my all time favourite books and this is how I imagined Polly, Digory and Colin's secret garden to be </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgimLmAGHgTwDwGWsipDyXX7WKQMK2fI5vQR9Yg3IvADEOpLOSQMi0VfLTdcsInwtbRLRYHb_hbNGjSO-K5V7g5Sk6j1tcRj5rYYPWUDUTP7xSifwNBX8EgheKVk87HK23Pr72QMvUJjPT-/s1600/P1000875.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgimLmAGHgTwDwGWsipDyXX7WKQMK2fI5vQR9Yg3IvADEOpLOSQMi0VfLTdcsInwtbRLRYHb_hbNGjSO-K5V7g5Sk6j1tcRj5rYYPWUDUTP7xSifwNBX8EgheKVk87HK23Pr72QMvUJjPT-/s320/P1000875.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN2Z5mtxSf8h5RQ0FMoe8fO7vkIvJQh2QtA2ht1dExIZQfGGX6z3QdD7bNjZ2Z-15Vb-JSRD-pnuu7lbPtaw6fFVyoUQjqLmHWd0GavsbigwfQ_tvbPWgzpg2mD59Wvkb9_f-0snv8Va2M/s1600/P1000894.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN2Z5mtxSf8h5RQ0FMoe8fO7vkIvJQh2QtA2ht1dExIZQfGGX6z3QdD7bNjZ2Z-15Vb-JSRD-pnuu7lbPtaw6fFVyoUQjqLmHWd0GavsbigwfQ_tvbPWgzpg2mD59Wvkb9_f-0snv8Va2M/s320/P1000894.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">Here is where I <strong>finally </strong>worked out how to use the macro on the camera and was able to take a photo of a bee gathering pollen</div><div align="center"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgScUfiTtgfHtwu21-p8mc4jat1JzChqXqEo0ggU8LovfthttY2n4xH8wtI4GVQZLYtAkknTlXGS8kaCze5g0O1L1Z6eQdQnJP1tjv9cX7nx4TK5cjvwP4Tlh07SN_5mUPn1gxytPWExgT0/s1600/P1000913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgScUfiTtgfHtwu21-p8mc4jat1JzChqXqEo0ggU8LovfthttY2n4xH8wtI4GVQZLYtAkknTlXGS8kaCze5g0O1L1Z6eQdQnJP1tjv9cX7nx4TK5cjvwP4Tlh07SN_5mUPn1gxytPWExgT0/s320/P1000913.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-eo4HnETNxvdkNBlxW12gYI8_jV0KvFvuv1UcNUTwGECW3x7-Fxz2qrn15xw3yPsGWtpYRMERedy8GoM1OTcUXHzRGUdFsavZfEcPU_ytH0GjNYhMXseO07unPJr1dYcbYKQWPHFwh5oy/s1600/P1000924.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-eo4HnETNxvdkNBlxW12gYI8_jV0KvFvuv1UcNUTwGECW3x7-Fxz2qrn15xw3yPsGWtpYRMERedy8GoM1OTcUXHzRGUdFsavZfEcPU_ytH0GjNYhMXseO07unPJr1dYcbYKQWPHFwh5oy/s320/P1000924.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjylwuayLZTPjZyki9zL7tSU1nEaXsS9COJDrIFdZmXogOqbiXEXNdtA6D_3XFTWus7rAB2aZ0oo6Ij-u_DyYrWTIKo0odKmG6AhQXbmPGNZg-O34vC5k081u4TXesSWwacoR9WDEAwxHyY/s1600/P1000926.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjylwuayLZTPjZyki9zL7tSU1nEaXsS9COJDrIFdZmXogOqbiXEXNdtA6D_3XFTWus7rAB2aZ0oo6Ij-u_DyYrWTIKo0odKmG6AhQXbmPGNZg-O34vC5k081u4TXesSWwacoR9WDEAwxHyY/s320/P1000926.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> There are a lot of copper sculptures around the garden</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4JZMTxTCXFwpKZ2-aIZb_souKhzSoyNbHoS7tYhS0r_SLFAN0aT1CyXPqH5hTyJkjDQIqtdYc3YG84WCIxxO9J-PALMmo3BYhqLfkruApqqPBi7jBcElE-djEddh_PZOldkARdKElMURW/s1600/P1000946.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4JZMTxTCXFwpKZ2-aIZb_souKhzSoyNbHoS7tYhS0r_SLFAN0aT1CyXPqH5hTyJkjDQIqtdYc3YG84WCIxxO9J-PALMmo3BYhqLfkruApqqPBi7jBcElE-djEddh_PZOldkARdKElMURW/s320/P1000946.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">This photo was an accident but I quite like it </div><div align="center"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdrCAuGUcUSqrOp16Yowqjfed_s2rnYeoCkMdZmICytqyXqXNaCRXPr8HpaavJQraa645ORW2459nEfTPY-_4hAYDnyfslJxfEcrebjErDQuatFxoeyqAbEn-HKoCc-z6lqvsQGJgGY7dj/s1600/P1000954.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdrCAuGUcUSqrOp16Yowqjfed_s2rnYeoCkMdZmICytqyXqXNaCRXPr8HpaavJQraa645ORW2459nEfTPY-_4hAYDnyfslJxfEcrebjErDQuatFxoeyqAbEn-HKoCc-z6lqvsQGJgGY7dj/s320/P1000954.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">Another copper sculpture</div><div align="center"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-oMG2Zdn2Bx3h1jfijdZlUQAk6_iOmvg1D7q8wvUxq9IQH881EYXbfcpEUE9-vZpUSMOUxb_QShmysxS-2IGWyPNeMKViaJNsLfFUhrnUYUcwVEVIx5QNoQ-ENJJHTIbAF46dDDKsGhMz/s1600/P1000960.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-oMG2Zdn2Bx3h1jfijdZlUQAk6_iOmvg1D7q8wvUxq9IQH881EYXbfcpEUE9-vZpUSMOUxb_QShmysxS-2IGWyPNeMKViaJNsLfFUhrnUYUcwVEVIx5QNoQ-ENJJHTIbAF46dDDKsGhMz/s320/P1000960.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWgK6xYfT-tG1P_eVkclHaV5dNYcP5HpG8DukqFaKVi-NtBxL33fTEvimNpxdPkmU05l7fR220OvGMN2Xt3p8xosASGOvRaxF0vGvGBkl8e39cr4y44lYdzEDkkpiJMDBguUC_pONwwLbh/s1600/P1000969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWgK6xYfT-tG1P_eVkclHaV5dNYcP5HpG8DukqFaKVi-NtBxL33fTEvimNpxdPkmU05l7fR220OvGMN2Xt3p8xosASGOvRaxF0vGvGBkl8e39cr4y44lYdzEDkkpiJMDBguUC_pONwwLbh/s320/P1000969.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv41hdTkgiGCuU9ABk57bICe5BSHJxypTViXh0JS9SMfaq4YKCkKpekDrxncXNcaJNtpfAa2e67IYQ2DfJFHnHgw-l-1K0sxvEipoAvn0gF5x_f_-fJ-EGXG5RUbVAto5yMCVndEr8awTQ/s1600/P1000975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv41hdTkgiGCuU9ABk57bICe5BSHJxypTViXh0JS9SMfaq4YKCkKpekDrxncXNcaJNtpfAa2e67IYQ2DfJFHnHgw-l-1K0sxvEipoAvn0gF5x_f_-fJ-EGXG5RUbVAto5yMCVndEr8awTQ/s320/P1000975.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">A Monet moment </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAvCeqA_DW6bgotsy2L4oxcrXGO8RvbvCBxZ-5rzlNyYNlotHXlXBjElcyFwAYmrk4CgZ21jUjsg8Z3iL547CgPxA1FwOmSoV320U767ou2RN6lPOzNV4Zz23DXyAcHXEDU698yCR2ivpx/s1600/P1000983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAvCeqA_DW6bgotsy2L4oxcrXGO8RvbvCBxZ-5rzlNyYNlotHXlXBjElcyFwAYmrk4CgZ21jUjsg8Z3iL547CgPxA1FwOmSoV320U767ou2RN6lPOzNV4Zz23DXyAcHXEDU698yCR2ivpx/s320/P1000983.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The same Monet moment - different position</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJ3FzRjwiy-V8IzJtlZ7isc5XbQSjt0S2H6qYqPEbfyaWpxVuro3pVDkjd4evE8NUYMHa0x0a30JcNhNtPCeclTAC4YgwsBMX-fxQtAt2bH3Z0IRB5iv6fnwQ3urGncj87pi2ZYPiiQne/s1600/P1010002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJ3FzRjwiy-V8IzJtlZ7isc5XbQSjt0S2H6qYqPEbfyaWpxVuro3pVDkjd4evE8NUYMHa0x0a30JcNhNtPCeclTAC4YgwsBMX-fxQtAt2bH3Z0IRB5iv6fnwQ3urGncj87pi2ZYPiiQne/s320/P1010002.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKKGwHmd6f6cYQJjXDkvtQqmbvx9EJhyphenhyphenbKrNgVpOpamnTOwRTLASIgWFTHWC-0rpuMPFaooWrla1-JtzjA0Hhk4dJG0vADEiRF3iHy3X-vz8BMY2Rxm0u2ca9AkfgGyPJeJfgdgmV4kfcx/s1600/P1010044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKKGwHmd6f6cYQJjXDkvtQqmbvx9EJhyphenhyphenbKrNgVpOpamnTOwRTLASIgWFTHWC-0rpuMPFaooWrla1-JtzjA0Hhk4dJG0vADEiRF3iHy3X-vz8BMY2Rxm0u2ca9AkfgGyPJeJfgdgmV4kfcx/s320/P1010044.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0n3e_J6M-szFY-qPBeAti8JawIxjwV11prjRk2xv8EmXdWitqG6XPkxMpdcwRIfmI0LiEKw4stqX3XjvQnjGxq-s1oVDRuWK-_aT2wu0TI1u8gjoBnH0Vfi2mznVg1-2kISgA9m3ApRUM/s1600/P1010089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0n3e_J6M-szFY-qPBeAti8JawIxjwV11prjRk2xv8EmXdWitqG6XPkxMpdcwRIfmI0LiEKw4stqX3XjvQnjGxq-s1oVDRuWK-_aT2wu0TI1u8gjoBnH0Vfi2mznVg1-2kISgA9m3ApRUM/s320/P1010089.JPG" t$="true" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">Another macro moment with buzzy insect</div><div align="center"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuYOXZ4zRjZ5MFXIurfe2ydZHxT2v_RouPBg2IOJRSecm6QOGdZzyh95Y2UycyOfZg4vAmCFoaj6frj20IhgVvWsoa3uOvXyULYLnS6tORfESprvXEqK-eXHzxCsVC5xy8L8YGYByiqgPm/s1600/P1010054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuYOXZ4zRjZ5MFXIurfe2ydZHxT2v_RouPBg2IOJRSecm6QOGdZzyh95Y2UycyOfZg4vAmCFoaj6frj20IhgVvWsoa3uOvXyULYLnS6tORfESprvXEqK-eXHzxCsVC5xy8L8YGYByiqgPm/s320/P1010054.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9IkmYz9xooKDIZRMt32pUD_K8ri-FFNATY7e4pvKD4FA_3g2qiufJigpOu324rGUF5tLiXjs7g6HSuIJK0LDWA51Gk41usYwJ3ZpNwaZqibCN6wXLRfzcDQwoAQc-nL3TjV7-SLvEZA0/s1600/P1010097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9IkmYz9xooKDIZRMt32pUD_K8ri-FFNATY7e4pvKD4FA_3g2qiufJigpOu324rGUF5tLiXjs7g6HSuIJK0LDWA51Gk41usYwJ3ZpNwaZqibCN6wXLRfzcDQwoAQc-nL3TjV7-SLvEZA0/s320/P1010097.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Someone is lucky enough to live here</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When my soul is in need of healing I go to the sea. Should it need just a little soothing I will definitely come here. Suffice to say it is a place that is very good for the soul.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Also good for the soul was the family dinner that followed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">MO's partner JT and his son OT had been to a WW2 thingy at the Hop Farm and came back with sunburn and tales of the vintage vehicles seen and the battle enactments witnessed. It was nice to see their enthusiasm. MO's daughters, MLO and KO were having an end of term, back from uni clear out and washing session. Sensible girls talked me out of nabbing the huge, very pink cardboard box they were throwing out - vaguely regret that. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I also helped MLO with her washing. She was loading about 3million socks onto the airer and none of them matched. I was surprised to discover that I had a desperate desire to match them up. I managed 2 pairs. I had to try very hard not to scream when MO said to me 'you do know she never wears matching socks don't you'. Should I worry about this formerly latent case of OCD I wonder? I once worked with a woman who, as soon as her washing was dry, would put a bra, a pair of knickers and a pair of tights into individual plastic bags so that she didn't have to go scrabbling around in draws for any of it when she was getting dressed. I admired that. I was always going to do that one of these days. I have known about this practise for 23 years and still haven't got round to doing it yet. I do have matching underwear and occasionally when I get undressed I find to my surprise that I actually matched that day. I do try to be tidy. It's just that it never seems to happen somehow. Therefore perhaps I just have a hitherto unknown case of matching sock fetish which, as I don't wear socks will probably never bother me again. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dinner was a wonderfully informal and relaxed affair. I chopped and grated and MO stirred, mixed and created and we all sat down to a delicious meal of two types of sauce (meat and vegetarian) with pasta, salad and bread. MLO and KO had us in fits of laughter with tales of their visits to MO's family in the States complete with bonkers dogs, relatives with shotguns, meatballs for breakfast and really, really bad thunderstorms. I felt so welcome and included. Lovely people.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I went home happy that night. Nice Sunday.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8168225741582822192.post-39995961971094594172011-07-21T05:45:00.000-07:002011-07-21T05:47:23.391-07:00Waiting for inspiration - JK and meA few moons ago I stated that I wanted writing to be my new career. I then put it into my list of '60 things'. So, I thought, perhaps I had better try and do something about it rather than just " 'a wishin' and a dreamin' and a hopin''. That might be a misquote by the way.<br />
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Legend has it that JK Rowling wrote Harry Potter sitting in a cafe with a cup of tea at a time of personal hardship i.e. unemployed, broke and single parent. Hmmm, two out of three - not bad - so, I took myself off to a cafe for a cup of tea with a pen and lots of paper to see if I could get some creative juices flowing. <br />
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As I excitedly stumbled up the stairs to the cafe in Waterstones bookshop (an attempt to gain inspiration and ability by the osmosis effect) I pictured myself sitting by the window in the grip of inspiration; scribbling away like Jo in Little Women in a frenzy of creativity. The end result being a novel which my very own Professor Bhaer would get published for me (I had best go and find my Professor Bhaer as a matter of urgency!). Said novel would, of course, then lend itself to a series of novels followed by a series of blockbusting films - Oscar acceptance speech already written etc etc etc. <br />
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To my disappointment the window seat was taken by a trio of women 'doing' coffee who looked like they weren't about to leave anytime soon. One corner comfy sofa was taken by two elderly ladies who looked like they were taking a mid-shopping break (lots of carrier bags but arm room enough left for more). A corner table was taken by three persons of retired looking age who were holding some sort of meeting, the table being spread with a myriad of papers and folders. At a side table sat a middle aged couple engaged in earnest conversation so they didn't look as though they would be leaving soon either. So, I chose a sort of off centre table, ordered my tea and teacake (was JK able to afford a teacake I wonder?), got out my pen and much paper and settled down. To wait. For the inspiration to come.<br />
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Unfortunately the AGM people were loud of voice and spending an awful lot of time talking about computer technology. Well, that is one of them was holding forth with his experiences to the other two, who were out of necessity silent as he didn't pause for breath once. I could hear, but not see, the three women by the window as they were giggling quite hysterically and the earnest couple were droning on in the background. My head was buzzing with the sounds of all those voices. How <em>did</em> JK do it?<br />
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That was twenty minutes ago. Since then opposite me sit five children around the elevenish age group playing computer games. Their minders are sitting at a table next to them - ignoring them. Behind me sit two more elderly women, to the left of me three more elderly women. Behind the five children a man is studiously ignoring a small girl who looks about five and has a whiny, high pitched voice with which she is is carrying on a loud monologue whilst banging the table. An elderly man is reading the paper at another table. A middle aged couple are sitting not talking to each other. Two women have colonised the other sofa and are looking at photos on a laptop and a couple possibly in their forties appear to have dragged an unwilling teenage boy out with them. They talk - he stares into space. Two people dressed as ramblers complete with walking boots, backpacks and those green anoraks are having coffee at another table. The coffee machines are whooshing away like mad. And it's great. All the voices have merged into a general hum and apart from the frequent admonishments of '<em>Henry</em>' to one of the five by a minder I can't distinguish any of the voices. I can't hear individual sounds. It's like white noise and it's strangely peaceful.<br />
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So, here I sit, waiting. For Inspiration. And nothing is coming. But, I am having a nice time. If legend is true I can see why JK (we are on initial terms now you know, us both being writers) did it. It is nice to actually be out of the flat, to be among people. It's not like going to work obviously and it isn't a social occasion - I am not interacting with any of these people but it isn't like being isolated either.<br />
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The people are begining to thin out a bit now. The five children plus minders have departed. Unfortunately monologue girl is still going strong accompanied by the occasional adult male grunt. Is she like this because she is being ignored or is she being ignored because she is like this? Either way adult male needs to help her out a bit I feel. Retired not speaking to each other couple are still not speaking to each other. He is still staring into space but she is now speaking to another woman at the next table who's male companion is engrossed in his newspaper. A single young male has arrived and is eating a croissant while reading a very large paperback book the title of which I can't see. The ramblers are now munching away on pastries whilst gazing up at the ceiling - there is nothing up there that I can see - they haven't even divested themselves of their anoraks and it is a very hot day. They actually look a little out of place, as though they should really be sitting in a rustic pub at the top of a mountain after a major yomp instead of taking morning coffee in a city tearoom. I wouldn't have thought there was much call for hiking boots in the city centre but perhaps they have walked a long way - and been at it since dawn. Two women who look very much like sisters have arrived and are carrying on a very animated coversation. They have a zillion carrier bags with them but not from the posh shops. <br />
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This is the sort of scenario that Alexander McCall Smith would turn into a book. He would write back stories for each of these people, somehow connect them to each other and although there wouldn't be a plot as such, no murder or espionage, it would be an observation of other people's lives that the reader could relate to. I have read some of his Scotland Street series and although I like to read them now and again I tend to like exposure to something different, something out of the ordinary, a sense of mystery, a surprise at the end or along the way.<br />
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Is someone in this ordinary looking scenario out of the ordinary? Is an event going to take place shortly in this very cafe that is going to change the course of one or more of these lives forever? Is one of these people harouring a secret or carrying a burden that will alter everything for them. The newly arrived older couple with younger child think it is such a notable enough event they are taking photos of her. Perhaps they are kidnappers and are taking photos to build up a history with her should they be questioned at any time.<br />
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Alexander McCall Smith aside I tend to not want to read every day life. I live every day life. I read to escape, to experience something outside my sphere of life. When I read I want to be transported elsewhere and I think that is probably the sort of thing I would like to write. But I am not sure I have that sort of imagination. But if I don't try I won't know so, which of these people in this cafe are aliens in disguise on the run from a dark and malevolent force?........................<br />
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</div><div align="center"><em>ok here should be a picture of a dear little</em></div><div align="center"><em>green alien. Having surprised myself by</em></div><div align="center"><em>using clipart before I was going to do it </em></div><div align="center"><em>again - but - I can't remember how I did</em></div><div align="center"><em>it - it would seem to have been a fluke</em> as </div><div align="center"><em>I just can't seem to work out how to do it </em></div><div align="center"><em>again. I have been trying for ages and </em></div><div align="center"><em>for the sake of my sanity am now giving</em></div><div align="center"><em>up so if you would be so kind as to</em></div><div align="center"><em>imagine a little green creature with </em></div><div align="center"><em>a rugby ball shaped head, no hair, </em></div><div align="center"><em>big eyes, long fingers with knobbly bits</em></div><div align="center"><em>on the end and looking in need of a </em></div><div align="center"><em>friend I would be most grateful.</em></div><br />
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</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: "Calibri", "sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;"><shapetype coordsize="21600,21600" filled="f" id="_x0000_t75" o:preferrelative="t" o:spt="75" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" stroked="f"> <stroke joinstyle="miter"></stroke><formulas><f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"></f><f eqn="sum @0 1 0"></f><f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"></f><f eqn="prod @2 1 2"></f><f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"></f><f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"></f><f eqn="sum @0 0 1"></f><f eqn="prod @6 1 2"></f><f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"></f><f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"></f><f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"></f><f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"></f></formulas><path gradientshapeok="t" o:connecttype="rect" o:extrusionok="f"></path><lock aspectratio="t" v:ext="edit"></lock></shapetype><span style="font-family: "Calibri", "sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB; mso-no-proof: yes;"><shapetype coordsize="21600,21600" filled="f" id="_x0000_t75" o:preferrelative="t" o:spt="75" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" stroked="f"> <stroke joinstyle="miter"></stroke><formulas><f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"></f><f eqn="sum @0 1 0"></f><f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"></f><f eqn="prod @2 1 2"></f><f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"></f><f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"></f><f eqn="sum @0 0 1"></f><f eqn="prod @6 1 2"></f><f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"></f><f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"></f><f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"></f><f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"></f></formulas><path gradientshapeok="t" o:connecttype="rect" o:extrusionok="f"></path><lock aspectratio="t" v:ext="edit"></lock></shapetype><shape id="Picture_x0020_1" o:spid="_x0000_i1025" style="height: 141.75pt; visibility: visible; width: 111.75pt;" type="#_x0000_t75"><imagedata o:title="MC900083273[1]" src="file:///C:\Users\Deborah\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image001.wmz"></imagedata></shape></span></span></div>Lady Chutneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15273053240515018453noreply@blogger.com1