Baked Camembert, pistachio, fig, sultana, pomegranate, thyme and honey.
There are definite moments for a proper pudding and there are times when grazing an assortment of cheeses is the perfect thang…
On occasion, I satisfy my desire for both and there are a mix of ways in which I might achieve this – baking a camembert is one … Continue reading A little milk and honey
I know it’s a cliché that France has an abundance of cheese and I also feel strongly that UK cheeses are exceptional too, but having spent the last week at our home in France the quality and selection on offer really smacks you in the face. Continue reading C’est Cheese
It came to pass that we spent a few days in Yorkshire this past week. In Wensleydale, to be precise, having been invited along by Rocket’s brother Slippers and our sister-in-law Tigger.
They are regulars, it turns out, at a welcoming hotel in The Dales, that hosts a twice yearly malt whiskey tasting. With Rocket (and his bro) being very big fans of the golden liquor they were happy to partake whilst Tigger and I sat happily ensconced with a glass or two of our own particular poison… officiando’s of the Malt we are not. Continue reading A Dram of Yorkshire
It’s fair to say that November and December 2015 were a bit of a struggle following Rocket’s recent accident in India, but a new year beckons and we are not down hearted, it could have been an awful lot worse and he is at least on the mend now.
The food season has changed, the tide has already turned from richly abundant to the austerity of January but just before that happens…we have been reliving some of the best bits via the medium of left overs. Continue reading For Auld Lang Syne
Blessed are the cheese makers, and many, many others….
The Kennington farmer’s market in south London is a hive of activity on a Saturday (I am pleased to report) and when wandering through Rocket happened upon some delicious cheese.
From my position on a sun-bed from which I didn’t much move for a couple of days (having worked my backside off for the days prior and in anticipation of the days coming ahead where a list of jobs is mounting) I was dreaming of sardines. Funnily enough not the fresh variety at that moment but the really high quality tinned ones from St Jean de Luz on the Atlantic coast, which are canned in wafer thin lemon slices and dressed in light olive oil. They are delicious and make a great snack. Continue reading Sardines, Sardines everywhere…
I look to the deck chair where my friend snoozes…no sign of life. The gentle hum of a distant tractor and Mata Hari struggles upright, blinking, we stare at each other in the bright sunlight, no need for words, we know what comes next. Continue reading The church bell tolls thrice, a breeze catches the long meadow grass in a whisper…
In Search of the Catfish Café... 