Creoso

‘Creoso’ as we say in Wales: welcome!

Here I am in deepest Aberystwyth.  It has been very sunny, hot even but today it is wet and windy – and cool to boot.

Exam completed.  I think I performed horribly but I won’t know until August as I understand it so I am not going to think about it.

Am eating a lot of fried bread and as there is no one to say ‘no’ to me I am having extra helpings!  Mind you the cooking is basic: bacon, baked beans, chips – quality food that I love!

Have been down to Fishguard where I accidentally interrupted the Vicar’s meeting with some churchwardens, then on to Haverfordwest for a space of time so as you can see it has not been too onerous.  Mind you there is a lot of study and lectures to attend and whatnot and frankly this student lark is not my cup of tea but I persevere.

Plus I know that on Friday I shall drive off back to Birmingham and then catch the dreaded RyanAirflight back to Dusseldorf and then on Saturday, jet off (or ‘orf’) to Australia with AGA for a nice five week holiday.  It’s a tough life…

Coming up for air

I have been submerged in exam studies this past week – and it continues.

One more week to go and the exam is next Tuesday.  Please think of me at 2pm as they say the dread words : turn over your paper and begin.

And now I shall take a deep breath and submerge once more…

A new addition

It has been madly busy here at present.  I have an exam to study for and AGA is working on the end of the school year so it is all go.  Sir George however is the only idle dog among us…  He just sits about reading, or thinking…

It is the first time I have sat an exam since . . . well since I was younger than I am now.  I sat exams for the Chartered Institute in my insurance litigation specialist heyday but that is a thing of the past.  Now I am attempting a Bachelor’s Degree and the last time one of my family attempted that was in the 1560s.  

It is a funny thing but when I was at school I hated exams.  When I was doing my institute studies I hated exams and now I still hate’em.  The time seems to be rushing forward at an ever increasing pace and I don’t like it.  I want someone to stand up and say: its okay chaps, we have decided not to have an exam this year but you all pass with flying colours anyway . . .

Such is the stuff of draydreams.

It is only one exam admittedly but it is 50% of the mark so there is a lot riding on it as you can imagine.

So to pass the time here is a little story.

In 1878 there was a chap called Mr Thomas Watson.  He was a farmer living somewhere in southern Scotland I should think.  He was very proud of his dairy herd.  They were either short horn or cross-bred (I’m not sure which) but what I can say is that Mr Watson had them on his farm and he was well proud of them.  Them someone mentioned that the Edinburgh Christmas Club Show was approaching and why didn’t he entered his cows.

He decided that he would.

The day arrived and Mr Watson and his cows were duly present.  The judges came, looked, seemed impressed, and then passed on.  Mr Watson wondered if he might be onto a winner. . . he wasn’t sure.

Later they announced the prizes and Mr Watson had gained a second prize.  He was well pleased with the results although I expect he would have preferred a first.  The prize was a magnificent silver plated teapot, ornately engraved with scrolls and intricate arabesques as well as the willow pattern design complete with Chinese temple, pagoda, ornamental bridge and of course, willow trees.  

But best of all, on one side, was engraved:

Edinburgh Christmas Club Show

1878

Second Prize

For

Shorthorn or Crossbred

DAIRY COW

Gained by

Mr. Thomas Watson

Mt Watson was very pleased with his teapot and took it home.  He treated it carefully and never allowed it to be used.  Instead he made sure it was always polished.  Polished so much that some of the silver plating eventually came off the lid!

After that a veil falls over this story until 2009 when a chap who for sake of argument we will call Kirk, saw that very teapot on his first day looking at e-bay, bidded for it, and like Mr Watson, he won it (except that unlike Mr Watson, he also had to pay for it)… 

What’s more it arrived in a large cardboard box, well padded, courtesy of DHL.

And here it is in all its glory!

 

What a magnificent, plump, overgrown pear of a teapot it is.  How brilliantly it shines and how ornate it looks.  My dear Mr Watson, you can rest assured that this teapot will be as well looked after by me, as it was when you had it.

Ring out the joy bells…

Not only because it is Pentecost which is the birthday of Holy Mother Church (see previous post) but also because yesterday a very special package arrived.

I should preface this by saying that about two weeks ago AGA and I ‘discovered’ e-bay.  It was rather in the manner of Columbus discovering America.  It had always been there, and all the Americans of 1492 knew it was there but one day, Columbus sailed along and saw it for the first time and ‘discovered’ it!   Thus with our ménage and e-bay.  E-bay has been going for a quite a few years and of course we had heard about it and indeed a friend of mine seemed to be forever receiving large boxes of china from all over the place, the results of e-bay purchasing; but it was only the other week that AGA and I actually discovered it. 

At first we were very green and never seemed to win at bidding.  We began to grow somewhat despondent but having chatted with some friends and work colleagues we gained information on how to be successful and now we are canny and have unfortunately become rather too good at it.  So much so that we are having a breather as our bank accounts are in need of a rest.  

The best part is receiving the packages as they arrive and we have a few en route as I type.

Anyway,

On Saturday a package arrived. An e-bay purchase.

I removed it from its envelope:

Then I removed the plastic:

It was an ugly duckling of a thing.  All grey and dilapidated but I gazed lovingly upon it as one would upon finding a lost child and I know how that chap in the New Testament felt upon finding the pearl and going off to sell everything so that he could have it because this book was none other than:

A 1788 edition of Every Man His Own Gardener by the great John Abercrombie.  It was only spoken about a few weeks ago by the person who writes the excellent MyEnglishCountryGarden blog and I fully admit that I glittered emerald-like, to think that she was lucky enough to possess a copy while I was without …

But now I too own a copy and I am exceedingly happy about it. 

So tra-la-la and three cheers for Mr Abercrombie!

Happy Birthday to us!

It is the birthday of our Holy Mother Church today, as the priest pointed out at Holy Mass… 

Pentecost is called Pfingsten in Germany and our Church was decorated with flowers and many candles which shone upon the shrine of St Suitbertus, making the gold glitter.  We sang lots of rollicking hymns and the organist played a lot of twiddly bits before each one.

I have made some cakes to celebrate and Sir George is thinking of composing something celebratory on the harpsichord a little later, although I must admit that his personal view on his harpsichord ability is greatly inflated.  I would prefer AGA to do it but once Sir George has an idea in his head there is no stopping him.  And anyway, AGA is busy at present fixing the bells and gongs on his clock collection

NB: I obtained this picture from Wikicommons

Elderflowers

The may blossom is well and truly gone.  Now we are surrounded by the foaming creamy clusters that are the elderflower.

I am tempted to make it some into champagne although if it tastes anything like Elderflower flavoured mineral water it will not be to my liking at all.

Blog List, where art thou?

Now I wonder where my blog list went to?

Did someone come in while I was out and think to themselves: ‘that’s a nice lot of quality blogs he’s got there’, and pinched it?

I must hunt around and see where on earth it can have disappeared to…

Madeleines pour vous!

Yesterday I was in the kitchen with Sir George while AGA was busy checking Ebay (of which more in a later post).

‘Sir George’, I said decidedly, ‘I am going to make madeleines for today’s afternoon tea’.

Sir George scowled a bit, having never forgiven Louis XV for that little incident at Fontenoy however I was in no mood for his carry-on and I needed to get cracking if I were to finish in time . . .

I don’t know if I mentioned it before but I always cook with a composer.  Usually it is my dear old friend Georg Friedrich Handel.  He wrote such rollicking good music to cook by and indeed many is the time I have joined in by way of the vigorous thumping of a wooden spoon in a mixing bowl.

Occasionally it is the likes of Rameau, Boyce, CPEBach (who despite looking like a Teutonic old frump in his portraits wrote some pretty cracking music in his day) or Lully who drop by to assist.

Today however the honours were going to Claudio Monteverdi.  He had been in the kitchen on Saturday helping me to make a raspberry and apple pie and so it was a pleasure to ask him to help with the Madeleines.  Of course we had the Vespers of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  A favourite of mine and we sang loudly as we whipped up the mixture.

This is how you make them.

Preheat the oven to about 180C.  Get a nice big orange and zest it.  Put the zest on a chopping board and chop it fairly finely.  

Next take 120g of flour and mix it in a bowl with a good teaspoonful of baking powder.  Use a fork so that it is well combined.  In another bowl put 120g of Castor sugar and four eggs.  Get out your trusty mixer and mix it for a good three minutes so that the mixture gains in volume.  Now add to it 120g of butter that is at room temperature.  Mix it for another minute.  The mixture will lose some of its volume but fear not for that is supposed to happen.  Now add the zest and a few drops of vanilla essence.  Mix it some more. 

Now add the flour mixture and fold it in gently, lovingly, amorously, even languidly! using a big metal spoon while thinking pleasant thoughts, until no dry mixture remains.  Now let it sit in its bowl for five minutes or so while you put the kettle on. 

(At that very moment Monteverdi and his choir let rip with a massive air splitting Gloria Patri that I was able to join in with gusto.  Thanks to the wondrous CD player’s controls we actually sang this six or seven times over until AGA asked that we stop.)

The mixture is now ready for the next stage.  Dip your finger in and have a taste.  ‘Lecke!’ as Handel might have said: ‘Tasty!’

Have ready a well buttered Madeleine pan.  Make sure that all the grooves in the molds are buttered.  Place a spoonful of the mixture into each mold. Be careful not to fill the mold to the brim.  Leave a little of the mold pattern showing.  Like this:

If you forget you will end up with some rather obese Madeleines that roll all over the place, enough to give poor old Proust an attack of the vapours.  Actually they spread out of their mould, are difficult to remove when cooked and look untidy too – although they taste just as good.  Actually my first batch went this way so I can speak from experience on all counts . . .  

Anyway…

Now into the oven with them! 

Make a cup of tea and sit near the oven to watch the process. Just like this:

Madeleines are dainty creatures, a few seconds over the limit and they burn.  Ten minutes ought to do it.  Luckily Monteverdi and co were now singing some rousing, melodic Magnificats and I drank tea in a leisurely way, joining in every now and again on the sicut erats.  As soon as the Madeleines take on a light golden colour, open the oven door and skewer the nearest one.  If the skewer comes out clean they are ready.   These are ready:

Take out the pan and sit it on a conveniently situated trivet and lay a clean teatowel over it.  Leave for a few minutes then bang the pan mightily on the table top until the contents have come out.  Never try and poke them out with a knife as this would damage them.  They should look plump and revealing. Golden on top and pale underneath. . .

Eat one. 

Does it taste good? 

Eat another. 

Don’t worry that now you only have ten (or perhaps nine) left because although this mixture is supposed to be for 12 Madeleines, for some reason it always makes 24 so there is a perfect justification in judicious eating of the finished product.

At this point AGA entered and tried one.  ‘Freakin’ delicious’ was his  summing up.  A comment with which I thoroughly agreed.  I don’t like to brag but if Madame du Pompadour had walked through the door at that very moment and gasped ‘I need a madeleine!’, she was have been awe struck by my culinary prowess and probably asked me to become her pastry chef (or at least I like to think so).

Needless to say that our guests ate their fill and now there are but two left although soon even they will be but a pleasant scented memory…

Here they are in their heyday.  Sitting expectantly in their tin:

By the way, you don’t have to flavour the Madeleines with orange zest.  You can use lemon or no zest at all but there is one important golden rule and that is that Madeleines must be eaten on the day they are made.  Leave them any longer and they go stale, taking on the character of the Mademoiselle from Armentieres…

Another by the way: I always used the best, salted butter in my baking and on my toast.  It is a matter of taste I suppose but unsalted butter just doesn’t do it for me…

Perhaps this rambling carry-on has made you think that you might like to make some Madeleines yourself!  If it has then bon chance and bon appetite!  You won’t regret it.

A glorious day

Saturday was a glorious day.  

When I woke up the sun was shining and the birds were singing, including one particularly vocal blackbird who loves to go through whole arias of bird song as he stakes his territory.  

Added to this the swallows have returned and are zipping about, and they were playing Dvorak Dances on the radio…

So I decided to go for a walk, just me, by myself, around the village, and take a few photos for my blog…

So, here is the view from the front door of our apartment.  That low ground used to be a tributary of the Rhine that made our village into an island.  Where I am standing was the small dock area.  You wouldn’t think that now…

Walking down the avenue and around the corner, and a bit further on and here you are at Barbarossa’s castle – built by the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick Barbarossa.  It was intact up until the (I think) 17th century when it was bombed by the Spanish during a war with France.  This was a dispute area back then.

The Rhine.  A big broad highway of a river.  If you were to follow the river in that direction you would end up in Rotterdam. We can take the ferry into Dusseldorf if we like, during the summer, do our shopping at the big market there, and return home by water afterwards.  Very regal.  But usually we just take the tram.

Some houses in the High Street.  We are hoping to become a  World Heritage site.

Here is another part of the old Rhine river bed – now a park.  I hope that you can make out the May pole.  They keep it up for the entire month.  We have maypole dancing and a a lot of festivities on the 1st of May…

Some more houses.

Another part of the village.  The house with a tunnel used to form part of the original town wall.  The building in the background is St Suidbertus Basilica where I go to Mass!

Here is the blurred interior of St Suidbertus.  All ready for Fingsten (Pentecost) next weekend.

And finally here is the old Capuchin Monastery that is now the Catholic School.  It was built in 1672.

Well I hope you enjoyed this little ambulation!  I shall post some more photos another time.  I’m off now to make some madeleines as we are having guests for lunch.

Cakes for the Feast of the Ascension

Yesterday was the Feast of the Ascension and so I thought that I would make something afternoon tea-ish to celebrate this somewhat underrated Feast of Holy Mother Church.

As luck would have it, my favourite super hero, the Caked Crusader, had recently posted a delicious looking cup cake recipe although flying in the face of modern convention I prefer to call them fairy cakes.
Anyway, I set about making the recipe. I had an immediate problem in that it calls for 50g of almond meal but in Germany it is rather difficult to get it made without the almond ‘skins’ included. I decided to risk it but as it is ground somewhat courser, I sifted it until I had the required amount.
The resulting mixture tasted very good and I always think that if the raw mixture tastes good then the finished product will be fab.
So far so good but Sir George kept interrupting me, talking of this and that and of course the inevitable happened: I put too much in the patty cases.

The resulting cakes exhibit a mushroom-like head!

I tried cutting it off one but then it looked a poor thing, somehow shorn of its glory, so I left the rest as they were.
Now, to quote Bertie Wooster: ‘what I am about to say might wound you.’
The recipe calls for the cakes to be adorned with butter icing but . . .I do not like butter icing.
Prepare the stake and the kindling if you must but I just cannot take a liking to it. I can manage it in Butterfly cakes but that is about all. I find it just a little too rich for my palate. So instead I decorated my cakes with icing and half glacé cherries which made them look a bit Mr Kipling-esque… My mother on the other hand would sat that they look like Minnie Mouse cakes

Whatever you think of their looks, they taste delicious, and that is the most important thing. Extremely light, just as the Caked Crusader said they would be. We enjoyed them a lot – actually quite a lot but there are still a few left for today.

Oh Caked Crusader you have done it yet again!