Domesticali

Broad beans are sleeping in a blankety bed*

Having friends with allotments has got to be the next best thing to having one yourself! At the moment there seems to be a glut of broad beans which I have been overjoyed to make use of.

Especially since I came across Sarah Raven's way of preparing them  (from her Garden Cookbook).

Blitz podded and jacketed broad beans with olive oil, lemon zest, mint and salt and pepper.

She suggests using the resulting puree on crostini with a sliver of pecorino, but I reckon Parma Ham would be fab too.

We ate ours as an accompaniment to some roast lamb and cous cous. One of the lovely things was that it didn't loose the bright green zingy colour at all. I would have taken a photo, but we were too greedy.

*Oh, takes me back to Harvest Festival...

Cauliflowers fluffy and cabbages green,
Strawberries sweeter than any I've seen
Beetroot purple and onions white,
All grow steadily day and night

The apples are ripe, the plums are red,
Broad beans are sleeping in a blankety bed

Blackberries juicy and rhubarb sour,
Marrows fattening hour by hour.
Gooseberries hairy and lettuces fat
Radishes round and runner beans flat

The apples are ripe, the plums are red,
Broad beans are sleeping in a blankety bed

Orangey carrots and turnips cream,
Reddening tomatoes that used to be green,
brown potatoes in little heaps,
Down in the darkness where the celery sleeps

The apples are ripe, the plums are red,
Broad beans are sleeping in a blankety bed

 

Feeling foodie (not guilty)

Some weeks I feel really uninspired food-wise. I trot out the same old same old and no-body really complains, because face it, round here it's my cooking or my cooking. Not that hubby can't cook - it's just that he always takes the path of least resistance. Which usually means something on toast. And the something is usually beans. Or an egg if he's willing to push the boat out.

But this week has been saved by Waitrose Food Illustrated. I really like it as a magazine and this month, a couple of very fast and yummy things emerged from the pages.

First the worthy - Chicken and Vegetable soup, which managed to capture all the early summer goodness of young courgettes and green beans and little carrots. Here's the recipe link. I had to borrow Waitrose's photo, because although I like taking photos of food, I don't like faffing around while my glorious dinner goes cold.

But I took a photo of the main ingredient of the next course.

Oh, Toblerone. How I worship your nougat studded pyramids. I like your dark version even more. And the children's verdict on these cookies has been very positive. Recipe link (of course).
In fact the only thing I don't like about these cookies, is the way that the page where the recipe is printed, bears the header 'guilty pleasures'. Of all the things in life to berate ourselves over, eating the odd homemade treat should just not register on the richter scale of maternal guilt. Not in my book anyway.

So when this makes it into my tried, tested and enjoyed recipe collection, you can be sure that I'm snipping that header straight off. I have better things to feel guilty about. Like falling off the Project 365 wagon. Half way through the year and it's time to throw in the towel. I think the final nail in the coffin is the realization that there are people out there who are just doing it SO much better.

Cracked

Today was a day for hiding quietly. I went to the dentist and was left post anasthetic with a leer that would have frightened small children. Hell, it frightened me. Be grateful there are no pictures.

Normally I am irritatingly perky about the prospect of going to the dentist. It helps that he is lovely (Hello Mr Buckley) and allows my children to call him Mr Broccoli without comment. But I realize that the other reason is that I haven't actually had to have anything done (bar checkups and cleaning) in the last 20 years. But this time, the number was up for my two geriatric fillings. Out with the old, in with the new, on with the paper bag.

I scuttled surrepticiously round the supermarket, trying not to drool on any of the produce from lips that no longer met in the corner. But it was all a bit of a strain, so I decided to wait for the numbness to wear off in the safety of my own kitchen.

Because I had an idea brewing, which involved my underused ice-cream sandwich moulds.

And hard boiled eggs and this tutorial for making lunchbox fun. Because what could be more fun than a pig shaped boiled egg? Perhaps a pig shaped boiled egg made by someone who had bothered to re-read the directions about wetting the mould to prevent sticking.

Are you ready for a shock? Because this piggy is slightly worse for wear. Hey, perhaps he'd done a few rounds of anesthetic with Mr Broccoli.

Poor piggy. I blame bigbucketgirl and all her laptop luncbox come hither talk myself. I'm going to try the chicken mould tomorrow. ..

Al fresco cooking

Is it shameful to be constantly tapping my children for blog fodder? Thankfully, someone in the household still has time to be creative. It isn't me, that's for sure. But I would miss the act of blogging sorely, so you'll have to indulge me. And today, it is worth it. Because there was something very special happening in the garden.

Mark's friend Chloe came to play after school, bringing with her this gem of a book. And what marvels it contains.

No supermarket is as well-stocked as a forest, a sand dune, or your own backyard, and everyone knows that dolls dote on mud, when properly prepared. Invite everyone, for Pencil Sharpener Pudding, Dandelion Souffle, Wood Chip Dip, and, of course, Mud Pies.

I knew as soon as I saw it, that we needed a copy. It is utterly charming and funny for the way in which all the recipes are presented so seriously.

FRIED WATER
Melt one ice cube in a skillet by placing it in the sun. When melted, add 1 cup water and sauté slowly until water is transparent. Serve small portions, because this dish is rich as well as mouth-watering.

Unfortunately, it is out of print and has proved a bit tricky to track down. But  for something so enchanting, it was worth the effort.

Hors d'oeuvre anyone?

And exhale

Back to school day (for Mark at least). Johnny has a couple of Inset days,  which have caused much hilarity. When I explained to him why he was not going back on the same day as Mark, he must have mis-heard me. Insect? Inset? What's the difference when you're only 4.

    J:  Mama, I'm not going to school today am I?
    Me:  No. Remember, I told you?
    J: Yes, I have a bug day.

There are great things about the holidays (not least the lack of morning scramble), but a secret part of me relishes the return to routine when everyone is back at school. Of course, feeling relieved about getting rid of the little darlings also makes me feel somewhat less than Earth-Motherly . Hence the need for extra good lunchbox treats.

Apricot and almond yogurt coated bites.

Very simple and perfect for assuaging guilt.

Happy landings

Thanks so much for all the good wishes on my new adventure - yes, I am really truly working in a bookshop. And I was amazed (though not surprised) about how many of us crafty blogger types have worked in bookshops, managed bookshops or view a job in a bookshop as being paid for pleasure.

Much as I would love to regale you with tales of trivia from my day,  that's more than enough work chat here. Not least because my new boss also happens to be one of my long established blog readers. Bit weird that!

The double whammy of Easter and gainful employment has meant there hasn't been too much creativity happening this week.  The best I can come up with is some chocolate macaroons (from Nigella Express).

Now I grant you, they're not Laduree, but they were very acceptable.

Fuelled by chocolate, Hubby fixed the portion of fence that had blown down in the howling winds the other week.

Unlike our other fenceposts, this one has a flat top, which makes the perfect resting place for the little blackbird sculpture I've had tucked away for ages. He makes me smile.

Baking my way out of a hole

Mark has been on a quest at school recently. In pursuit of the elusive Pineapple Upside Down Cake. You see, it appears on the Jamie -inspired, on-the-premesis-prepared, turkey-twizzler-free, PC-school-lunch-menu. But in real life, it has failed to materialize on his plate. These menus - easy to compile, seemingly trickier to deliver to the hungry punters .

Now I haven't had pineapple upside down cake since my own schooldays (even if I do know a woman who has). But Nigella has an Express recipe for one. I even found a little linky for you.

So, we made one. And little bro had to taste test it. Thankfully it passed, although there is no way one of those suspiciously lurid cherries is passing his lips. This may be a good thing, because I have no idea what colouring is used to make them quite so bright, but I am 100% supportive of refusal to ingest any food which appears to glow in the dark.

Teatime tonight, in honour of his prizewinning World Book Day Book Token Card design, Mark will be having the victor's slice. [The Iron Man (by Ted Hughes) is a classic - if your 7ish little people have missed out, you're in for a treat. It has just the right amount of menace in my opinion. ]

Quest over. If only baking were the answer to everything. Or perhaps it is.

 

Belated celebrations

We've been partying today. A belated 4th birthday celebration for Johnny and his friends (with no pesky elder-sibling-limelight-stealing!).  I'm whacked.

We had a good time though. Especially the Mummies.

See what happens when the power goes off and you are forced to drink wine at lunchtime because a cup of tea is out of the question?

Paper case or basket case?

Ever the multitasker, I'm posting with two ends in mind. Firstly the request for 7 weird things that went along with kind award bestowing from Overmilkwood and Driftwood.

And secondly, in protest at Alice's declaration of war against coloured cupcake cases. Do you know, I didn't even know it was an issue I cared about until this morning. But I do, In a weird sort of way:

1. I don't have a particularly sweet tooth, but I like to bake and I really like to bake cupcakes. Now I am wondering if  I may be developing an obsession.

2. Not so much with the cakes, but with the little paper cases. Oh yes, I have many. Some, Alice will be pleased to hear,  are white:

Big, small, fancy.

3. But sometimes you need black, or silver to set off a particular kind of cupcake.

4. And then there are holidays and festivals to celebrate.

5. And bright colours to cheer you up on grey days.

6. And ones that even an obsessive has to admit may be a little over the top.

7. And then there are the re-usable silicone sort.

And as I was putting them back in the cupboard, I found another tube of them that I didn't even photograph.

That weird enough for you?

Quick, before the diet police see.

The Saturday papers are filled with diet articles. I don't do diets. Or deprivation in general. Pass another cupcake please.

Preparations 8 - Primped and packaged

Feels like we're entering the home stretch now. A little bit of wrapping to indulge in, some last minute distribution and the big day will be here.

Dishcloths have been ironed (what a hoot - I don't really understand 'blocking', but the wavy edges look somewhat straighter) and packed up with vanilla sugar and cookie cutters and a gingerbread house kit for good measure.

Chocolate pretzels baked (Mama? Why you making those poos?)

But he ate enough of them once they'd been dipped in white chocolate and sprinkled.

The recipe was from the Better Homes and Gardens Christmas Cookies special (thanks Michelle!) . Call it a little Christmas gift from me to you to say thank you for stopping by here and leaving such lovely comments.CHOCOLATE PRETZELS1 2/3 c. all-purpose flour
1/2 c. unsweetened cocoa powder
1/8 tsp. salt
3/4 c. butter, softened
3/4 c. brown sugar, packed
1 egg
1 tsp. vanilla
Unsweetened cocoa powder, sifted

In a small bowl, combine flour, 1/2 c. cocoa powder, and salt. Set aside.

Beat butter and brown sugar in a large bowl with an electric mixer on medium speed until well combined. Add egg and vanilla and beat well. Add flour mixture, 1/3 at a time, beating on low speed until combined. Divide dough in half and wrap in plastic wrap and chill for 2 to 24 hours or until dough is easy to handle.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Remove one dough portion from refrigerator; keep remaining dough portion refrigerated. Divide the dough into 12 equal portions. Sprinkle work surface with sifted cocoa powder, repeating as needed. Roll each portion of dough into a 9 inch long rope on prepared surface. Twist into a pretzel shape and place on a cookie sheet, 1 inch apart.

Bake for 12 to 14 minutes or until just firm. Cool on the cookie sheet on a wire rack for one minute, and then transfer to to the wire rack to cool completely. Repeat this process with the remaining dough.

Costly cooking

Christmas cooking can be a costly business. Because I am not sure the whisk attachment of my Magimix was built to take the strain of a batch of homemade marshmallows. Halfway through, it started making a grinding of metal on metal noise and I had to finish off with the hand held beater. I'm too afraid to check if the damage is terminal.


Because, if it is, they may yet prove to be the most expensive marshmallows of all time. As I type, they are setting on a couple of baking trays. I also have my doubts about whether they will ever come off.


But the boys have pronounced them fabulous.

Or the mixture anyway. What's not to like about pure sugar with a touch of gelatin? Now excuse me while I try to clear up...

Small pleasures

A morning shaft of sunlight in our bedroom (something of a rarity in these grey November days). The simple delight small boys take in the antics of a naughty shadow-bird.



Preparing some jars of Vanilla Sugar for friends.

A timely reminder to notice the little things.

Preparations 4 - Rubber Stamp

It's been a while since I carved a rubber stamp - I forgot how fun and quick a process it is. The only thing is, I didn't really intend to make Santa look like a wino. Although with HIS to-do list, He'd be forgiven for hitting the bottle at this time of year.



If you want to have a go, here is the tutorial which got me started.
Perhaps I'd better have a cup of tea and re-group. This is my new seasonal favourite - even the box is uplifting.



My photos look pants today - sorry, its just so dark and wet and miserable. Natural light? Chance would be a fine thing.

Lurid cupcakes

There's no place for subtlety in the world of child-pleasing cupcakes. Bright is good, but lurid is better.

Cupcakes for Children in Need cake sale.

Mark had to go to school today, dressed as something he'd like to be when he grows up. Amidst a sea of firemen, pop stars, policemen and footballers, he stood out somewhat in his Daddy's tie. He's a Town Planner (I blame the Lego Corporation).

Just a cup of coffee

Anna was talking about cold brewed coffee the other day. It sounded good - less bitter, less dehydrating, so I thought I'd try a batch. No one mentioned the mess. All this for a cup of coffee:


Perhaps I could figure out a straining system that is a bit more washing-up efficient. No need to abandon the process just yet.

Then I tasted it - mmm good (once I'd figured out how much to dilute the concentrate).

I swear I just had one small cup, with oodles of hot milk but you would think I had been mainlining espressos all morning. Unbelievable caffeine hit - my heart is still beating faster than normal. Too much coffee makes me jabber incessantly. My poor friend called me post-coffee and 45 mins later I was still bending her ear. Perhaps I'd better try again with decaf.

Random acts of total stupidity

We all know what today is don't we? I baked the pumpkin muffins (Amy's yummy recipe).

I consulted with the boys and translated their designs into pumpkin form.

We dressed up and hit the neighbourhood for trick-or-treating. And we returned home to find this on our doorstep.

What kind of genius courier thinks leaving a glass aquarium on the front doorstep of a pumpkin lit abode at 6pm on Halloween is a sensible idea? Miraculously it seems unscathed. Thank you pumpkin gods. Our incredibly fast growing goldfish will be eternally grateful.

And thank you all for your sympathetic response to my whining last post. When we were going through Mark's assessment, some kindly professional asked me if I had any support. I don't think she knows about the force that is craft-bloggers.

Whooooooo

Halloween preparations in full swing here this weekend.


Cute skeleton cut outs from Sewing Stars. Oops, he seems to have lost a leg.

And white chocolate ghosts courtesy of Martha Stewart. These look really impressive, but are dead easy to make. I don't know if my white chocolate got too warm to set hard again, because the lollies are great straight from the fridge, but a bit on the bendy side at room temperature. Any chocolate melting experts out there?

Clocks went back today - our first dark evening of the year. We have a family movie night planned, so I need to go and make popcorn. They rented 'Garfield - the movie'. I do not have high hopes.

Posh jellies

When I am my foulest, most screamy self, I forget just how easy it is to please my boys. Behold the favourite dessert of the moment:



Mandarin orange segments straight from the tin, suspended in lurid tangerine jelly.

"Oh Mummy - posh jellies!"

Sometimes, I am just so classy.

Oh and you know Martha's top idea for leaves dipped in wax - if you were thinking of trying it, you may want to reconsider. After a week and a half, ours have turned black and started to go stinky. Not really the aspect of autumn I was hoping to capture.

Distraction by chocolate

It's hard when your big brother is off carousing and gorging on sugar at a party to which you aren't invited. Johnny was all set for a sad afternoon, until I remembered DottyCookie's Magic Monkey Bananas. The perfect activity.

Peel banana, break in half. Insert lolly stick (or in our case, stolen wooden coffee stirrer in one half and disposable chopstick in the other). Slather in molten chocolate (dark - my kids have carefully cultivated very good taste in chocolate) and sprinkle on sprinkles. Bung them in the freezer on some greaseproof paper for an hour for the chocolate to set and the banana to freeze into something which tastes like ice-cream, but is healthily virtuous.

And given that Mark cannot stand even the smell of bananas, I don't feel he's been deprived. Thanks Val, you saved our afternoon!

I've come to the conclusion that when the going gets tough, I blog about food. I suppose it's preferable to opening the fridge and eating food. But only marginally. Are you bored? Sorry.

Nigella’s Apple and Butterscotch Tart

In the excitement of the first English apples of the season I got carried away and bought more than we could munch 'au naturel' so it was time to hit the books for a recipe to use them up. Nigella Lawson's Apple and Butterscotch Tart seemed to fit the bill, in that I already had all the ingredients. There's nothing more frustrating than deciding to make something, then finding out you need to go shopping first for a missing essential.

Basically, the tart is a shortcrust pastry base, covered with peeled cored apples (Nigella says cooking apples, but I needed to use my yummy eating sort) and topped with a mixture of 150g light muscovado sugar, 4 tbsp plain flour 2 eggs and 4 tbsp cream. Whisk the bits together and pour over the apples. Bake at 210 C for 10 mins and then reduce heat to 180 C and cook for another 20 minutes or so.

Do you remember Gypsy Tart from school dinners of yesteryear? The butterscotch reminded me of that. It sort of souffles round the apples. Delish. And my resident tasting panel agreed.

Although the obligatory jam tarts made from pastry trimmings won the 'fun' award.

I googled the recipe to see if it was on-line for you, and came across 'New Nigella' the blog of a woman whose aim is to cook every recipe from all of Nigella’s books, in A-Z order. Wow, I thought I was a fan, but that's a whole new level of dedication.

Great to see so many lovely folks jumping aboard the blogging meme - I've been fascinated reading them all. If you haven't done it yet, go on, you know you want to!

Mutant Men at twelve o’clock

What was I thinking? I'm not sure if it was playground competitiveness, an attempt to earn my 'good mummy' badge or plain old fashioned lunacy. Whatever you chose to attribute it to, the urge struck me yesterday. The boys must have little men shaped rolls in their lunchboxes.

See, Lucie made them and hers looked really really cute. It seemed like such a wonderful idea. The dough came together smoothly, the cutting out (with big gingerbread cookie cutter) was fine. But the end result was nothing short of mutant horror. The Pillsbury Dough Boy gone bad.

It was the only bread I had, so they've gone to school with the mutant men. Hope there is no screaming at the lunch table. I may have traumatized an entire class of preschoolers. Never mind cheesy dreams, those rolls are the stuff of nightmares.

Brown Windsor Soup from Jamie Oliver

Have you ever come across a less appealing name for a dish - Brown Windsor Soup? A marketing man's nightmare. But if you can get past the name, it is really good. Very winter warmer-ish. I can see us eating this from mugs outside at Halloween or Bonfire Night.

It was a Jamie Oliver recipe from Sainsbury's freebie magazine, as is the photo - love those cups. But I can't find it anywhere on line - probably due to it's unappealing moniker. But it is tasty, although I have to warn you, it features Marmite, a love it or hate it ingredient. Hubby loathes the stuff, but failed to detect it in the soup - it just gives a background savoury hit. Here's the recipe:

Melt a big knob of butter and a little olive oil in a big saucepan and brown about 500g diced stewing beef. Add a tablespoon of Marmite and a splash of Worcestershire sauce. A fair amount of liquid will be released, but don't panic, just keep stirring until it has evaporated. Throw in a couple of sprigs of rosemary, a bay leaf, 1 red onion (peeled and chopped) 2 carrots (peeled and chopped) and 3 sticks of celery (trimmed and chopped). Sweat gently with a lid on until the veggies are softened. Stir in a tablespoon of flour and then pour in 2 litres of beef stock (actually I used a bit less, but topped up the water level as I cooked the soup). Season and bring to the simmer. Add 150g of pearl barley and cook gently for about an hour. Discard rosemary and bay leaf. You can whizz the soup for a couple of seconds with a hand blender to thicken it a bit, but we liked ours left chunky.

Jamie Oliver is on the receiving end of a lot of stick this week as British schoolchildren are eating fewer of the 'healthy' school meals which are now on offer thanks to his intervention. We manage school meals twice a week, but this Jamie recipe will be appearing in the food flask of a lunchbox near us very soon.

Very quiet

You spend all Summer shooing them out from underfoot and then suddenly poof, they're gone. I have naked cupcakes ready for decorating when they return. A little gesture to sweeten the first day back at school.

Well, I had to do something. I'll be used to it by next week, but today it's just too quiet round here.

E is for… Eight things

Okay, I give in. I've been tagged three times for this eight things meme, so I'm going to have to suck it up. You guys are killing me! Is it not enough that I've committed to a 26 part encyclopedia all about moi, no, you want eight more factoids. It's Sunday, day of rest. I shouldn't be having to think!

I decided to abdicate responsibility, so I asked the family over lunch.

Me: So I have to tell my blog friends eight things about me. What shall I say?
Mark: Tell them you wear glasses.
Johnny: Tell dat roo a weewee naaas mama (tell them that you're a really nice Mama)
Hubs: Say you're a yummy mummy
Johnny: Roo should not eat mamas, EVER.

I'm so relieved that I have managed to instill one or two core values in my children. But they didn't really come up with the goods, and I'm too hot to think. Will eight random items from my kitchen cupboards do it? I've always thought you could tell a lot about a person by the contents of their kitchen cupboards.

1. Soy sauce, industrial sized bottle from the Chinese grocers.
2. Gherkins - also a vast jar. I'm the only one who eats them, but I love them. Ready and waiting for TV time munchies to set in.
3. Vanilla sugar - jar of caster sugar with vanilla pod halved and tossed in. Always good to have in the back of a cupboard somewhere.
4. Tinned button mushrooms. Yes, they're nothing like real mushrooms, they're odd and rubbery, but I like them in my stroganoff.
5. Coriander seeds - 'tis the season of roasted Mediterranean veg and they're so much nicer with a spoon of these crushed and thrown in.
6. Butter waffles - good as biscuits with coffee, even better with ice-cream.
7. Spaghetti jar - I am a very disloyal pasta purchaser and buy all manner of different shapes and brands. We get left with lots of packets, all containing less than a portion of pasta. Hubby curses when he opens the cupboard and they all fall out. Tee hee.
8. First Aid box - cute tin isn't it! Plasters, paracetamol, Arnica, Calendula, Antihistamine. All emergencies covered.

And eight tags too you say? Okay, from my extensive list, blogs or bloggers beginning with 'e', or with 'e' in them (I'm getting desperate). NB - If you're naming a blog, ones beginning with E are woefully under represented in my Bloglines!

Simmy at Echoes of a Dream, Amy of Every Little Thing, Veronique of Little Elephants, Hay of Sew-Eco, Ellene Mcclay of Deciduous Soul, Erin of House on Hill Road, Erin of Buddy Rooster, and Eren of This Vintage Chica.

Phew. Might just have to go and have a gherkin to reward myself.

B is for… Baking

Most folk get their baking skills at the knee of their mother (or grandmother), but that's not the case with me. I come from a family of non-bakers, whose desserts consist mainly of fruit, with the occasional yogurt or ice-cream for variety.

In a bid to carve my own niche, the first thing I cooked without supervision, age 10 or so, was a baked pudding. A banana and chocolate thing which consisted of slitting the banana, skin and all, slipping in squares of chocolate, wrapping in foil and baking. I was so proud, putting the little parcels on the plates of my expectant family.

My father unwrapped his, hooted with laughter and said 'Look, my banana's done a poo'. It's a miracle I ever went back in the kitchen quite frankly. But in spite of the emotional scars(!) I really enjoy baking.

It's a kind of alchemy - from variations on the basic flour, butter, sugar, egg combination appear all manner of fanciful treats.

Today was a vanilla cupcake basic batter, with blackberry jam swirled through it and a fluffy meringue frosting.

And I got to fiddle about with the twiddly bits of decoration too. Joy!

And at least from my offspring, I get the lip licking seal of approval for my baking.

Extreme recycling

The boys and my Mum picked a ton of blackberries while we were visiting, so we came home with a big boxful. I rooted through the recipe books and found a Nigella Lawson Blackberry Galette recipe which sounded tempting.

I was just about to get stuck in when I realized I had no polenta for the pastry. Eek - Sunday evening, not a shop open, so I decided to make a batch of coulis instead. And then a wild impulse overtook me. Jam, must make jam. Or rather jelly, because those blackberries were a bit pippy.

Never mind that I'd never made jam before and I had no preserving sugar. Pectin, schmectin I said to myself - read 3 recipes and came up with my own. A pint of strained juice from the fruit, juice of half a lemon and a pound of sugar. Bubble, bubble, 106 degrees and Bob's your uncle.

It worked! And it set. And it tastes good. And I feel smugly domestic-goddess-like every time I glance at the jar.

Did I mention that my Mum's favourite blackberrying patch is in the local cemetery? She maintains the fruit from there is free of dog pee and traffic pollution. Who am I to argue.

Getting into the post-trip holiday groove today. Starting with a pancake breakfast. Tasha's family recipe has become pretty sacred in our house, but is usually reserved for the weekends when we can be a bit more leisurely about it.

More decadent breakfasts was just one of the ways I wanted to make our holiday time a little different this year. Earlier this summer, I was inspired by Erin's talk of a quiet time each day and resolved to put one in place at our house. So after lunch, I explained the concept. An hour of time, playing quietly, no screen time (computer or TV), no activity requiring parental assistance or supervision, no fighting or yelling. Then calmly I set the timer and walked upstairs.

Well knock me down with a feather - it actually worked! The boys played out some elaborate rescue services scenario together and then Mark went to his room and read for a bit. I was astounded. Tomorrow I'm actually setting the timer for a whole hour (wimped out with 45 mins today, but hey, it's good for starters). I may yet manage to retain my sanity until September. Or will it be a case of pride coming before a fall....

Eat your greens

I am a weak-willed woman with no self control. I need more cookie cutters like a hole in my head, but can I stop myself? No.

Mind you, it doesn't help when they are selling them in my bookshop!

It's part of a promotion for the Children's Food Festival, which is happening in Oxfordshire next weekend.

Food tasting, celebrity chefs (Raymond Blanc, Sophie Grigson, Annabel Karmel..), live water buffalo (??!). It's going to be a great event, and would you believe, we're going to miss it?

But jetting off to Bordeaux ought to be some compensation. Oh yes, it's holiday time.

Sarah Raven’s Garden Cookbook

I've been a big fan of Sarah Raven ever since I began gardening - I own her book 'The Cutting Garden' which sets out to help you plan a space which provides you with plenty of cut flowers (and greenery) for your house, without your borders looking pillaged.

In my personal fantasy future, I spend a great deal of time wafting around my walled garden, collecting blooms in a suitably vintage trug and arranging them with casual elegance. Reality involves more yelling of 'Keep your truck out of my flowerbed', but hey, I can dream.

I've noticed that a lot of gardeners are foodies. It makes me trust them more. Personally, I can't see the point in growing a swede as big as a boulder if it's inedible. I feel the same about growing onions - why? When they are dirt cheap at the greengrocers and don't taste any better for being freshly harvested.

So I was very intrigued to see this offering on the bookshop shelves.



Now, I've only had a twenty second flip through this, but it's already it's on my wish list. The recipes are arranged according to a central ingredient that you've harvested from your garden (or at least bought in season from the supermarket!). That struck me as hugely sensible - 20 things to do with rhubarb, because it's coming out of your ears at the moment, but you want to make the most of it being in season.

Now all I need to do is make some space on my overloaded cookbook shelf. I find parting with cookbooks difficult. There's something about the patina of food splashes which makes them very personal. No draconian uncluttering advice for me!