Cowslips

Last year I was obsessing about all the orchids in South-West France, but this year we are here a couple of weeks earlier, and this part of France has had a very harsh winter, so there are no orchids about yet.

Instead, I am obsessing about cowslips.  These beautiful spring flowers are endangered in the wild in the UK nowadays, because of the loss of their habitat.  I don't know if they are officially endangered in France too, but they are certainly thriving right here in Tarn-et-Garonne.  Along all the verges, and in all the fields up the sides of the mountains, there are big patches of these acid yellow-green flowers.

They look shy, and bashful, as they raise their little flowers just ever so slightly towards the sun.

They are bright, jolly, sweet little flowers - the essence of springtime.

The view from here

It is the time of year where I buy a bunch of daffodils every time I happen to be anywhere near a supermarket.  These ones from Waitrose are glorious - a fluffy cloud of yellow sunshine on the mantelpiece for only £1.99.

I have come to realise that if I don't take photographs, I don't write blog posts.  I've been cooking, knitting, writing, stitching, thinking and planning a great deal over the last few weeks, but not blogging about it. I've stayed around the house, and the house is dark, so I've not been taking photos.  But in a way this suits January, which I love for its quietness, wintriness and sense of hibernation.  I'm happy to have some daffs on the mantelpiece and a hot cup of coffee on my desk.  I'll be out in the world again soon enough.

So from my desk, my kitchen, and my computer, this is what I've been doing lately.

• Loving this panoramic photo, taken from London's newest skyscraper, The Shard: http://www.willpearson.co.uk/virtual-tour/shard-360-dusk/ 
• Adoring this blog post from the awesome and talented Teen Granny.  If my daughter ever knits a model of me, I will burst with pride.
• Thinking of a great group of women I met twelve years ago this week.  Some of them are amongst my very closest friends, and two of them have lovely blogs.  I just wish I still lived close enough to Nina that I could pop round for a coffee and eat some of her cakes!
• Cooking in my slow cooker (and not photographing the results). 
• On Tuesday I made lemon chicken: a whole chicken sat on a bed of chopped carrot, onion, fennel, rosemary and garlic, with a whole lemon chopped into chunks tucked underneath too.  150 ml of chicken stock poured over and left on low for about 6-7 hours.  Then chicken removed and the meat pulled off the bone.  We ate the veg, half the chicken and the lemony sauce with rice and peas.  The other half of the chicken will become a pie.
• Yesterday I made Indian potatoes: about 6 big potatoes, peeled and cut into large dice, along with an onion, a tin of tomatoes, a spoonful of curry paste, a spoonful of mango chutney and 100ml of vegetable stock.  Cooked on low for about 5 hours, and then stirred in 100ml of double cream before serving with naan bread, cucumber and yogurt.
• Putting all the postcards we've received this year into a tin, so that in December I can make one of these.
• Loving these two new London food blogs - The Skint Foodie and The London Review of Sandwiches.

And in between, gazing at the daffodils again.

Sunshine baking on a grey day

The endless sunshine we had a month ago has become a little more elusive over the past ten days.  But on a grey morning there is sunshine in the kitchen, as I bake and bake in order to try and tame the abundance of eggs.

This morning I've made lemon buns, which will be topped later with lemon icing, and cheese gougères (little savoury choux pastry puffs, flavoured with strong cheese and mustard).  I managed to use up four eggs altogether, but the hens have laid three this morning, so my glut has only decreased by one.

The gougères come out of the oven beautifully puffed up and smelling incredible, but they deflate very quickly, like soufflés.  If you want to photograph them in their full glory, you have to be quick!

Cheese gougères, straight from the oven. Recipe from Harry Eastwood's Skinny French Kitchen

The buns and the gougères are both destined for packed lunches and after-school snacks for C and O this week.  Little, easy things to eat, and sometimes share with friends.  The last time O had an iced bun in her lunchbox she managed to trade the empty bun case (for scraping off with a fingernail) for one whole finger of a twix, which I think was a very unequal trade indeed.

Spring colour in the garden

For probably the first time in the eleven years we have lived in this house, the garden is a riot of spring colour.  Turns out all I needed was a wet winter, a sunny spring, and to spend a few quid on geraniums and wallflowers.  Super easy.  I rather like gardening now.

Yellowness and a new toy

I was lying in bed early this morning, enjoying the fact that for once I was awake earlier than G, and pondering whether I could slide out of bed without waking him. After a few minutes he rather unnervingly popped open one eye and said "You're wondering whether you can get downstairs without waking me so that you can go and gaze at your new mixer, aren't you?".

Such is the deep connection between us after over 11 years together. He can now read my mind.

A few days ago, after dithering for the past two and a half years, I finally bought myself a KitchenAid mixer. It is a thing of great, great beauty and I love it. After G woke up I did go downstairs ("Would you like a cup of tea in bed, darling?") and stroke the mixer.




For the mixer's inaugural cake I wanted to find a recipe that would ordinarily involve lots of beating, mixing and aching arms, just so that I could really appreciate the mixer's brilliance. I also wanted something light, bright, yellow and spring-like - suitable for St David's Day and the abundance of daffodils. I eventually settled on one of Nigella's recipes from How To Be A Domestic Goddess: Damp Lemon and Almond Cake.




Like Nigella I have a bit of a thing for almonds. Especially in cakes. Last summer when we were visiting my Grandmother in the far corner of the North Yorkshire Dales, she served us the nicest Bakewell Tart I have ever eaten (and I have eaten a few in my time because I LOVE Bakewell Tart). She had bought it at the local bakery. Since then I have been experimenting with different jams, pastries and quantities of almonds and almond essence to re-create that Bakewell Tart, but still haven't quite managed it.


This lemon and almond cake of Nigella's is a sort of Italian influenced Bakewell Tart. Yum.

Nigella Lawson's Damp Lemon and Almond Cake

• 225g soft unsalted butter
• 225g caster sugar
• 4 eggs
• 50g plain flour
• 225g ground almonds
• 1/2 teaspoon almond essence
• grated zest and juice of 2 unwaxed lemons

Preheat the oven to Gas 4 and butter and line a 21cm Springform cake tin. Cream together the butter and sugar until white and fluffy. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, adding a quarter of the flour after each addition. Stir in the ground almonds, lemon zest, lemon juice and almond essence.

Spoon the mixture into the tin and bake for about 1 hour (Nigella says approx. 1 hour but it only took 45 mins in my oven so I suggest you start checking after about 40 mins). The cake is ready when the top is firmish and a cocktail stick inserted comes out with just a few crumbs stuck to it. Let the cake cool in the tin for 5 minutes and then turn out onto a wire rack and let it cool completely.

It tastes wonderful all by itself, but with the addition of a few raspberries and a dollop of creme fraiche it would enter another league altogether. I do love Nigella's recipes.

PS You don't need a mixer to make this cake - and indeed it so delicious that it would be worth having slightly achy arms after making it!