Today's Special

Beef Casserole chock full with sliced carrot, diced potato, onion wedges and nipped swede... then after a few hours topped with eight small dumplings. I've added some dried thyme, Worcestershire sauce, bay leaf and plenty of black pepper. Salt kept to a minimum on account of using two oxo cubes. Taste and check along the way you might find you need to add a little extra. Each his own.

For sweet...Eastern Rice Pudding.
This is exotic warm and spicy. Add a little cinnamon, ground cloves, light brown sugar and creamed coconut to the rice and milk then top with shavings of butter and bake as normal. I didn't have any creamed coconut this morning so I improvised by dropping in some dessicated coconut. Haven't used the dried stuff before but I think it should turn out alright.

Also being made today is a Banana Loaf. Mary Berry recipe using simple storecupboard ingredients and two over ripe nanas lounging at the bottom of the fruit bowl.
This is smashing!

A quick word about last night's X Factor.

Dull.

Be interested to see who gets the boot. Girl group Little Muffins exchanged woeful stories about overweightedness and becoming strong through experience. Joy boy Marcus cruised, dotty Irish girl Janet forgot her lyrics. This child has no place in the world of entertainment. Meanwhile Misha has. She rocked. But despite that and her new found tears I still don't dig her.

Jo...A Winner in Every Way

Nothing stopped me watching the final of The Great British Bake Off...

And as I watched I knew that Jo, the lovely Jo, would be crowned Winner. And so after making a Sacher, Mille Feuille and selection of dainty cakes with a British Summer Theme the Essex mother and wife WON.
I am ecstatically happy for her.

In previous rounds she was always gracious when getting a gentle telling-off from Paul or Mary for making slight errors and came across as genuinely humble, not once did I see a sneer or cocky attitude (that was Holly's area of expertise). Jo messed up, that's for sure, but she kept cool, coming right at just the right time. Her competition winning array of dainty cakes made me fill up, so simple, so English and, according to the judges... Tasted Divine. And that is what it's all about.
Holly sometimes slaughtered Jo on the tech front but like Mary Berry said, it's all about Taste. And so Jo won.
I would love to have her as a friend.

As for me and my baking...
In the oven as I write is a Yorkshire Tea Bread, thick with fruit and candied peel and lush with brown sugar. This stalwart is always in Mr H.'s munchbox and has been known to be toasted and buttered and spread with apricot jam. Keeps well and fills the heart with cheery safety.
Also being baked is another old mate. Dutch Apple Flan made with Greek yoghurt and apples. So easy on the eye, palate and purse. Served with ice cream makes a light guilt free indulgence:)

So that's my Baking for this Sunday morning...
Being roasted for lunch is a small chicken and for afters, rice pudding made with full fat milk.... low fat milk is anathema... if inside a rice pudding.
I'll probably top it with a madness of blackcurrant jam.

You know...I think amateur cooks like me have quite a lot of fun in the kitchen and if, on those rare occasions the apple pie goes pear shape, it's not a disaster...



(wanna bet;)

Now I go kitchenwards....................

Traitor Lawrenson and the Old Bag.

The carrots are in now but they very nearly weren't on account of two things. 1. My devouring of the Mirror's glossy England Pull-Out and 2. The worshipping of my new secondhand handbag.
Both took me to places of extreme pleasure and excitement. And to places of excessive perspiration...

The booklet is a great read John, loads of paras on all the teams, players, their chances and their managers...And I was thoroughly enjoying my mid morning read until I got to page 10 where Mark Lawrenson sickened me by saying he thinks Argentina will lift the trophy despite the madness of their manager Maradona.
I didn't like that one bit.

Ok we all know that the Argies are a good team with possibly the best player on planet earth in the line up, but Lionel Messi will, if the gods allow, eventually meet up with one Wayne Rooney...The other best player in the solar system.
And oh by jolly jingo will Africa dance if those two hit the turf together.
But I managed to calm down a bit by doing a few abdo workouts. I kid you not.

My small snap-shut type Simon Martin of London handbag was bought in the Trinity Hospice shop and cost a lot despite its price being 'reduced'. The manager's idea of a reduction didn't quite tally with mine but when I saw the vintage beauty sitting alone on a glass shelf with the sunlight picking out the dead snakes's scales I fell in silly love.

I've always loved 'skin' bags, think it stems from playing with my gran's fabulous bags, but I've never been able to afford a real one, having to always make do with faux snake or mock crock so when my eyes caught this one my mouth wetted. I hate using vinyl or plastic bags unless they're charming, and there are few good ones about, but leather is best, I'd rather a small damaged leather pouch than perfect plastic Primark.

Anyway as I looked up at it Mum told me to 'model' it so I gingerly took it down and held it in my left hand, it felt gorgeous, then with a heart quickening flourish I danced it into my right hand. Then, like a child, I played with it...I opened it then closed it then opened it again even being rash enough to raise it to eye level then, with glee, bopping it down so it could rest against my hip. After playing around like two teenagers mum and me smiled the smile of knowledge, the knowledge being that that beautiful old handbag would be walking...

After the games came the serious stuff, the inspecting of an interior. It was nigh on perfect a sliver of biro ink by the zipped compartment being the only flaw. Whoever owned this bag before me took care of it, I don't know how old it is but it has to be more than forty years, possibly fifty. The edges are worn and some scales are missing but these small imperfections don't make a jot of difference.
It is still a beautiful creature.

Games and worship over I took a deep breath and went to see the lovely woman on the till. We smiled because I've done business with her before and, with that woman-to-woman knowingness, she gently popped my dream into a John Lewis carrier bag. I handed over a lot more than £12 and left with a grinning mum to go to Boots.

So my tip to London was sweet, the only pesky fly in the sweet conserve was dad's disappearing tummy. I'll be keeping an eye on him that's for sure.

Now I must check lunch, there's an oldish bird roasting in an enamel tin and some fingered carrots glazing in a 1970's dish oh, and a sweet old fashioned rice pudding is baking.

I love old things!


Ta ta!