The quince used to be a hidden fruit. It seems it was embarrassed of its furry skin, ever varying sizes and odd looks. I had heard rumours of it returning to its former glory and I kept my eyes peeled and nostrils ready for a sight or a whiff of this mysterious fruit.
I found it. If you have not ever been lucky enough to encounter the quince then scrap any plans this weekend and go and hunt some down. It looks like a pear, is tough like a pumpkin,
When one suffers from less than optimal circulation in the extremities, they certainly know when the days are shortening and the evenings cooling. To rectify this and to warm the cockles there was only one thing for it. Apple crumble.
Not just any apple crumble but one which I had discussed with my Grandmother just hours before. "Oooh, the other day I saw someone put butter and sugar into the apples for a crumble. It did look nice". I took this little
It is almost the end of the week and time to use all that is left in the fridge to make room for all next weeks new and exciting food. Trips to delicatessens and markets have been planned in.
I found some stir fry strips lurking in the freezer that I had bought from a lovely lady from Challow Hill Meats at the farmers' market. This meal seems somehow to always be ready at just the right time, it all comes together precisely at the end.
Apparently I have become a magnet for books and other similar reading materials. Old and new, modern and traditional, there is not a manuscript that passes me by without a glance or sometimes a purchase. Because of this new exponential accumulation I needed to reorganise and rearrange my boudoir in preparation for a charming new bookcase I had clapped my eyes upon. I wrestled with the idea of what to have for dinner and I knew this rearrangement would