Apple and Cinnamon Pancakes

For the pancakes:1 1/2 cups apple juice 2 eggs, beaten 1 cup flour 1/2 cup quick oats 2 tablespoons wheat germ 1 1/2 tablespoons baking powder 1 tablespoons grated orange peel 1/2 teaspoon cinnamonBeat together apple juice and eggs in a medium bowl. Add the flour, oats, wheat germ, baking powder, orange peel and cinnamon. Stir until well mixed. Lightly grease a nonstick skillet. Make as you would pancakes pouring approximately 2 tablespoons batter mixture onto hot skillet for each pancake. Flip (only once) when bubbles begin to form around edges.For the filling 4 cooking apples (approx 700g/ 1 1/2lb) 50g/2oz butter 50g/2oz golden caster sugar 1 tbsp lemon juice 1 tbsp ground cinnamon 50g/2oz raisins Maple syrup Whipped cream

What you do:

1. Peel, quarter and core the apples then slice thickly.
2. Melt 50g/2oz of the butter in a pan, add the apples, sugar and lemon juice.
3. Cover the pan and cook gently for about 10 minutes or until the apples are beginning to soften.
4. Stir in the cinnamon and raisins.
5. Keep warm until you’ve made the pancakes.

Divide the filling between the pancakes and roll them. Serve on a hot plate with whipped cream or ice cream and maple syrup.

 

LOCK UP YOUR DAUGHTERS Excerpt from Chapter 10

 ‘I won’t have the time or the energy to cook after the surgery. The last  patient is booked for quarter to six. You know what that means.’ Emma  could have been talking to Philip. ‘Get some food on the way this evening.’

‘ On the way to where?’ Simon was simply being obtuse. His heart had  skipped a beat when Lynn Cooper buzzed through and told him his sister-  in-law was on the line.

‘Pancakes, I think.’ Emma ignored him as he deserved. ‘There’s that little bakery cum coffee shop just behind the corner from your Station. Know the one I mean?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘I want asparagus and cheese filling for the savoury, and apple and cinnamon for afters. A couple of each should be plenty. Choose what you want for yourself.’

‘That’s big of you. Thank you.’

‘And it’s best of you make it a little after eight. Phil will have phoned me from Glasgow by that time. Don’t want you being there when he phones.’

Simon never did find out if Philip had phoned that Tuesday night or not. There were no phone calls while he was at the Willows. Between eight in the evening and six o’clock the following morning.

‘You are not going to think yourself pregnant in five minutes, are you?’ They were still joined, still breathless. He kissed the dampness above her upper lip.

‘I can’t have children. How many times do I have to tell you?’ She grinned under his mouth and licked his lips.

‘So what were all those imaginary pregnancies all about? Don’t you doctors use pregnancy tests?’

She took a long time kissing the corner of his mouth, sucking at it, probing it with the tip of her tongue. ‘And what if I am? If I do get pregnant this time? Would you mind?’

His arms brought her even closer to him of their own accord. ‘Of course I wouldn’t mind. But, I wouldn’t want you to go about it the way you have done twice already.’

‘I was mistaken. Anyone can make a mistake.’

Simon laughed. ‘I suppose so. If one wants something badly enough.’ He looked into her eyes, but they were too close, too dark, and told him nothing. ‘Or if one’s afraid it may happen?’ He looked for an answer again and still it wasn’t there. He lifted himself gently to move away.

‘Don’t go,’ Emma whispered. ‘Stay.’ Her knees pressed into his hips.

They held each other in silence. The questions that had been welling up in him for months seemed unimportant. The resentments petty and churlish. She had been telling the truth all along. The simple, unembellished truth. She couldn’t have children. She’d come to terms with that. Philip was the one who’d been refusing to believe it.  Her phantom pregnancies were the pathetic product of Philip’s need. She’d been pretending for her husband’s sake. Going through the pain of the truth over and over again. Philip’s pain became her pain.

It was so easy to understand when he was with her. Everything made sense when they were together. It was the distance and people, other people’s words and meanings that always caused confusion. Bitterness. Suspicion. Like why had she been sleeping with him whenever she could but was staying with Philip and not even wanted to talk about it?

‘Not now. Not yet,’ she’d say and he’d wait, wait for the next time, for the right time.

 

LOCK UP YOUR DAUGHTERS – Chapter 25

Having given a solicitous ear to Jorge’s business problems for over an hour yet again, Dr. Bennett was chatting to Grace Warmisham, the assistant librarian at St. Cross, the only parent outside the Family that he’d met before. Her twin daughters were of the party. Very good swimmers, like Bella, said Mrs. Warmisham. She wouldn’t have been surprised if they chose it as a career.

‘Gives a whole new meaning to sink or swim,’ smiled Dr. Bennett. He added that Angel wasn’t very sporty, but he understood that Bella won herself a few awards for swimming and riding. ‘Everyone assures me Angel’s artistic.’ He assumed some evidence of parental pride was in order.

Mrs. Warmisham laughed. She’d always been the cheery one among the stiff-faced bunch that presided over the halls of silence. The sun was nearing the horizon behind her and her blonde hair was melting into its pale flames.

‘They seem to be on their way back.’ She turned her head towards as yet distant but distinct noises that sounded anything but of human origin. Dr. Bennett watched her as she strained her neck slightly as if to get closer to the sounds and her eyes roved among the greenery to greet the first sighting of the boats. There had to be something to being a mother to yearn for the proximity of one’s offspring quite so much. He followed her gaze trying to look as eager and impatient as his fair companion.

‘I’m surprised they’ve still got so much energy left,’ said Mrs. Warmisham. She spoke lightly with a little chuckle in her voice, but Dr. Bennett caught a slight, fleeting frown.

‘What’s up?’

She only shook her head and continued to stare into the sun. The boats were visible now, but only in silhouette and even that was fuzzy and changeable. He could see a few standing figures moving about in the first boat, swaying. There was some waving of arms he thought, and it occurred to him that in fact no one in the boat should have been upstanding. Then he stopped thinking altogether. Grace Warmisham cried ‘Help!’ from the depth of her lungs and that sent him running as he’d never thought he could. He was very much out of breath by the time he reached the gravelled bank, but his legs refused to stop no matter what his pounding heart and temporarily pushed aside common sense were ordering him to do.

Even if he wasn’t blinded by the setting sun and the sweat that was running into his eyes, in his agitation he was unable to register the exact order of events. The oars were still splashing and there was a lot of screaming. Someone was shouting orders, then just shouting. Not all the screams sounded scared. A few must have thought it exciting and were calling to each other, looking for spectators and admiration as they jumped into the murky water before the boat completely overturned to its side. A single child’s voice rose above the din in a continuous, unnerving wail.

Dr. Bennett somehow remembered to slip off his shoes before stepping into the water. Before he was in up to his knees he grabbed one little body that floated towards him, lifted it up and deposited it onto the bank. The boy shook Dr. Bennett’s hands off with a ‘I was doing very well on my own, thank you’ look and headed straight back into the water. His second attempt met with more appreciation.  Mrs. Warmisham pressed one of her muddy and dripping little girls to her silky floral outfit.

‘Thank you. Thank you. You’ve saved her life.’

The gratitude was a hugely exaggerated but pleasant.

For a moment the incident seemed to be little more than a scary mishap. The other Warmisham girl made her own way to the shore with a small group of spluttering but high-spirited children. A few were led out or even carried out by the trip attendants. The remaining two boats docked safely and their occupants were quickly frog marched into the marquee in spite of loud prrotests. Several parents packed their own offspring and those they’d brought along into their cars and drove off. Others, the more public-spirited ones, stayed on to look after the over-excited little crowd in the marquee until the appointed collection time.

Dr. Bennett kept wading around, pushing one or another straggling child in the right direction or passing it on to the next pair of helping hands. Occasionally, when he lost the footing, he had to keep himself afloat by paddling doglike in circles and twice he even dived under to inspect two large rocks that protruded a fair way into the stream.

Angel and Bella were among the last to be found. Angel had been hanging for dear life to the stern of one of the other boats and her fingers had to be prised off the edge before she could be moved.

Bella was carried out unconscious.

 

SUNDAY BOUQUET – PUZZLE 2

Another bouquet, another puzzle.

What would you make of these beauties?

Can you name them? Do you know what to do with them?

Would it help if I mentioned Simon and Garfunkel? Scarborough Fair?

No?

Oh, OK, it is Sunday after all. If you read what follows early enough you may make use of them today yet. Or the next Sunday.

Let me know how you got on.

HERB-CRUSTED RACK OF LAMB

Ingredients

For the crust

• large handful flatleaf parsley, coarsely chopped
• 2 garlic cloves, crushed
• 1 fresh thyme sprig, roughly chopped
• 2 fresh rosemary sprigs, roughly chopped
• handful breadcrumbs

For the vinaigrette

• 5 tbsp olive oil
• 2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
• salt and freshly ground pepper

For the vegetables

• 6-8 cherry tomatoes
• olive oil, to drizzle
• salt and freshly ground black pepper
• a few fresh thyme leaves
• 4 baby fennel, cut in half at an angle
• 50-100ml/1¾fl oz-3½fl oz water
• knob of butter
• 2 baby courgettes, sliced into thick pieces at an angle
• a few basil leaves, torn

For the lamb

• 100g/3½oz butter
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 2 racks (best end of neck) lamb, French-trimmed (ask your butcher to do this for you)
• 1 fresh rosemary sprig, roughly chopped
• 2 garlic cloves, crushed
• 1-2 tsp Dijon mustard

Preparation method

1. Preheat the oven to 170C/340F/Gas 3.
2. For the herb crust, combine the parsley, the crushed garlic cloves, the thyme and the rosemary in a food processor and blend to a pulp. Add the breadcrumbs and pulse together. Tip the breadcrumb mixture onto a tray and set aside.
3. For the vinaigrette, whisk the olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt and freshly ground black pepper together in a small bowl and set aside.
4. For the vegetables, cut the cherry tomatoes in half and spread on a baking tray, drizzle with a little olive oil, season with salt and freshly ground pepper and sprinkle a few thyme leaves over. Cook in the oven for 30 minutes, until semi-dry.
5. Preheat the oven to its highest setting.
6. For the lamb, heat the butter in an ovenproof pan and add the olive oil. Place the lamb in the pan along with the remaining rosemary sprig and crushed garlic cloves and sear for 2-3 minutes on each side until browned. As it is searing, baste the meat with the pan juices and cover the bones with foil. Transfer the lamb to the oven and roast for 4-5 minutes.
7. Remove the lamb from the oven and set aside to rest somewhere warm for five minutes. Once the lamb has rested, brush it with the Dijon mustard and roll the meat in the breadcrumb mixture to coat. Return to the oven for a further 5-10 minutes (for medium), or until cooked to your liking. Remove from the oven and set aside to rest.
8. For the vegetables, heat a little oil in a frying pan and lightly cook the fennel with the water and a knob of butter for a few minutes to soften. Add the courgettes a continue cooking for 2-3 minutes, until softened. Transfer the vegetables to a bowl, add the semi-dried tomatoes and a drizzle of the vinaigrette. Stir in a few torn basil leaves.
9. To serve, spoon the vegetables onto the centre of four serving plates. Carve the lamb into cutlets and arrange on top. Drizzle lightly with the remaining vinaigrette and serve.

 

SATURDAY BOUQUET – FLOWER PUZZLE 1

Let’s have some fun this week

There is  selection of beautiful flowers for you.

Can you name them?

Do you know their meaning?

Who would you give such a bouquet to? A friend? A relative? Someone you love and respect? Someone you love and desire? Someone you’re saying goodbye to? What would be your message to them?

Answers in the Comments Box, please. The best and most accurate and interesting answers (maybe some poetry?) will be published with the right answer tomorrow. Along with another Flower Puzzle.

 

 

TIMBUKTU, THE PERMANENT DOG

At first, things were not going very well. As soon as I was let out of the coat pocket I went looking for my Mother. There was no smell of her anywhere. That made me cry and I was crying so much that I became hungry.  I crawled up my new human’s leg to see if he had any milk for me. I sniffed and sniffed but there was no milk. My little nose was full of strange smells which made me sneeze a lot and I started crying again. Max was making some funny noises and stroking me behind my ears and all over my belly, so I forgot about crying for a while and was catching his fingers with my mouth. That must had given him the right idea because he poured some white liquid into a dish and offered it to me. I didn’t want to offend him but I wasn’t at all sure what was I meant to do with it. After making some more of those funny noises that humans seem to like so much, Max dipped his finger into the liquid and put it into my mouth. I licked it and discovered that while it was nowhere as nice as my mother’s milk it was still something that made my tummy feel better.

A few days later, Max brought some other stuff in a dish and was letting me lick it off his finger. Soft and much thicker than milk, it wasn’t bad and it filled my tummy faster.

I was still pining for my Mother, but whenever I felt really bad I would curl up on Max’ knees or run over to my own little dishes and remember the story my Mother told me about her very own bowl of food. I had that. I was hoping the rest was going to follow as well. My own collar to take Max out for walks and my own tag with my own name on it. All I needed then was to find that engaging personality. Mother never did tell me what it looked like or smelled like. I was afraid I wouldn’t know it if I saw it. That worried me a lot. There were other problems as well. Even now I don’t think it was all my fault. Now, I’ll have you know that my Mother was a born lady and a Permanent Pet. She was teaching me manners, she was. But Max didn’t appreciate any of that. We disagreed a few times quite strongly, and just when I thought he was getting the point, Max rubbed my nose into the cause of our arguments. From then on I did as Max said. Most of the time.

 

 

Confit de Canard

Confit de Canard is a French speciality made from succulent duck and spices. It is normally served with red cabbage, chestnuts and potato croquettes. But the beauty of it is that it can be sliced cold for sandwiches and salads or served reheated with anything you like during the week when there’s no time for lengthy cooking. It can be kept in the freezer, but it also keeps in the fridge for a long time. And that’s not all. The original recipe is for duck (whole or just the legs), but you can confit practically anything – fresh pork  spare ribs, lamb ribs and breast cut into strips, chops of any kind, or chicken, turkey and goose legs. ingredients 8 – 10 duck legs 4 oz (100 g) 1/2 cup sea salt 1 tsp freshly ground white pepper 1 tsp dried thyme 4 oz (100 g) lard/duck fat/goose fat method 1.Wash and dry the meat, removing and setting aside any fat.  2. Mix salt with pepper and thyme and rub well into the portions. 3. Put then into large earthenware jar or a heavy saucepan, sprinkle with remaining seasoning mix, cover and leave in a cool place for 24 hours. 4. Render the removed  fat down in large, heavy bottomed pan together with melted lard or any other additional fat that you are using. 5. Wash the meat well under running cold water to remove the salt and herbs. Pat dry. Lay the portions carefully into hot fat before covering and simmer very gently for 1-2 hours. 6. After 1 hour, test the meat by inserting a skewer into the thickest part of thigh. If juices run out clear, the duck is cooked. 7. Take the cooked meat off the bone if you wish, put in layers into a well washed earthenware or glass jar and pour cooled fat over it. The fat should cover the duck by a good 2 cm (3/4 in) 8. When completely cold cover the jar with foil and a lid and store in a cool place. 10. It will keep in this way for about 10 weeks. 11. For a hot meal, prepare the duck portions by roasting in the oven at 200°C (400°F) gas mark 6 for about 15 minutes until crisp and brown.