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Where sky skimming swallows flew,
apple trees bough
laden with Autumn fruit.-Melinda Schwakhofer, 2011
I had some leftover plums from my rumtopf adventure, so I let them ripen up for a few days. They sure were pretty, in the middle of our oak dining table, in an ochre bowl from Provence, basking in the golden early Autumn sunlight. When it turned chilly a week ago, I was wearing my grey wool scarf and draped it near the plums to lend some warmth and a soft, deep earthy tone.
A couple of days ago, I decided to make a plum cake to take into work in celebration of our Indian Summer. Yep, it was about 23°C/73°F with wall to wall sunshine today. And will continue like this for the next few days apparently. Well, I wished for an Indian Summer a couple of weeks ago when I made my Liberty print skirt and my wish has come true!
This glorious cake (from BBC Good Food) looks like something in a French pâtisserie, but is actually quite simple to make.
Glazed Plum Cake
- 200g softened butter , plus extra for greasing
- 8 red or purple plums
- 140g golden caster sugar , plus 1 extra tbsp
- 3 eggs , lightly beaten
- grated zest 1 large lemon
- 175g self-raising flour
- 6 tbsp milk
- 85g blanched, lightly toasted almonds , chopped (the pieces should be quite big)
- 6 heaped tbsp redcurrant or plum jelly
Heat oven to 180C/fan 160C/gas 4.
While the oven is heating up, put the almonds in the oven to gently toast. (I always prefer to toast my nuts before adding them to batter. It adds a subtle depth of flavour). Set a timer for about 10 to 15 minutes in case you waft off.
Butter a 23 or 24cm springform tin, line the base with greaseproof paper and butter the paper. Slice and stone the plums. (I find this a good method to deal with not too ripe plums. If I sixth the plum, then twist it, the slices just fall into my hands.)
Beat butter and sugar (minus the extra tbsp) until pale. Beat in eggs, then zest. With mixer on low, beat in flour and milk. Stir in almonds and spoon into the tin.
Lay the plum slices on top of the batter, overlapping them in circles.
Sprinkle with the extra sugar and bake for 55 mins-1 hr. I usually set the timer for half the allotted time, have a peek and then cover it with foil or parchment paper so it doesn’t brown up too fast. Then I take it off for the final 5 minutes. Let it cool in the tin for 15 mins. Remove cake from tin and stand on a rack.
In a small pan, melt the jelly and 2 tbsp water until reduced to a syrupy glaze, about 5 mins. (I had some leftover redcurrant jelly from making Chicken Casserole in Red Wine with Mushrooms a fortnight ago.)
Brush the melted jelly all over the cake. It will seem like a lot, but a thick glaze looks good and tastes amazing. In fact when I took this cake into work today, folks weren’t entirely sure what kind of fruit it was, the sweet-tart plums twizzled delightfully with the sweet-tart red currant jelly. But everyone sure did enjoy it.
Leave to set before serving. I was thinking it would be good with Chantilly cream, clotted cream or vanilla ice cream, but people seemed to like it just the way it was. Pure and simple and unadorned.
You know, these beautiful Indian Summer days begin cupped in the morning-misty shrouded dawn and draw to a close, cradled into night by a chillish dusk. Autumn is gathering us into her embrace, so we need to feast our Souls on the last of the Summer Harvest – and let it go and turn to face the darker days of Autumn and Winter, finding our sustenance within and our warmth at Home.
Like this:
Over Lent, I went on an online retreat/journey with the Desert Mothers and Fathers. Along the way, I was invited to consider the three virtues or practices in my life right now which feel essential for cultivating my connection to Self and God.
For the past several weeks, I’ve been practising the virtues of Stability, Patience and Presence. As an EdgeDancer and someone who for many years sought Home over the next horizon, these don’t come easily to me. But I am learning to trick my small self and ‘just try them for a moment’ and before I know what has happened, I am in the Eternal Now.
I’m playing with practising one or more of the three virtues, when I remember, at different times of my day. For instance, I can practise Patience if I’m working at a slow computer. Or Stability if I want change just for it’s own sake; rather than begin a new activity, I can relax into what I am already doing and really focus on the task at hand. I find that these small awarenesses give me a different perception of time and a deeper connection to everything.
The apple orchard I walk through from my bike parking spot to my bus stop is a great teacher of many things, including these virtues. It is a grounding Presence in the spiral of changing seasons, embodying them and also remaining constant. In November and December, I stop to count the diamond stars shining through the bare lichen covered branches. Now, I find constellations in the blossom laden boughs.
And I know that in the Autumn, the orchard will give us an abundance of sweet and juicy cider, cooking and eating apples, each with a star in the centre.
And again in the Winter, a beautiful lattice through which to view the deep night sky and shining stars.
So please forgive my silence (not that there aren’t hundreds of other diverting, deep, Muse-inducing blogs and things to keep you occupied!) while I’ve been finding a different point of view and new ground beneath my feet.
Steve asked, ‘When does Spring begin? Is it 21st March?’ I said, ‘No!’ The dates for the seasons on the calendar are to me quite arbitrary. I’ve mused about this before on Inspiraculum.
For me, the tippy toes of springtime begin now. Imbolc, or St. Brigid’s day is an Irish festival marking the beginning of spring. Most commonly it is celebrated on February 1 or 2 which falls halfway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox in the northern hemisphere. Christine Valters Paintner, my SOMA abbess, writes about Imbolc beautifully here. On Saturday, Steve and I walked with a couple of friends to the Ring of Bells pub in North Bovey for lunch. It is still grey, chilly and wintry, but for the past few days there has been a mighty, mild wind blowing which shakes the last of the dead leaves from the trees and hedgrows and clears away winter’s cobwebs. Our friend Penny shared that she has been doing some clearing out. This is such a perfect time of year for this. To let go and get rid of unuseful stuff and to clean the cobwebs away. Spring cleaning.
I’ve been noticing catkins on some of the trees, lambs in the fields and I saw my first snowdrops yesterday, at the base of a hedgrow. Signs of spring and new life!
This year feels like a new year for my artwork to blossom in a new way too. For the past few years, I’ve been a bit reclusive and introverted about my artwork. In fact I made three important pieces last year which I haven’t shared on my blog yet, but plan to do very soon. Here’s one of them called ‘Equanimity’.
My studio will be on the Secret Studios Trail at the Moretonhampstead Festival of Food, Drink and Arts on 5th March, 2011. I’m planning to hang my art quilts all over our flat and am really looking forward to meeting my visitors. As a member of the Devon Artist’s Network (DAN) I am going to be at an art exhibition at RHS Rosemoor Gardens from 8 – 10th April and will be offering my cafetiere covers, petit pot holders, brooches and a few other things. Have I mentioned that I am making beautiful and functional items for sale to adorn people’s homes and clothing?
In preparation for my studio guests and to facilitate my burst of production, I’m giving my studio a revamp. Nothing too major, but I have disassembled (and am selling) the single bed which used to nestle under the window.
I’d intended it as a nap bed (but I always use our wonderful, Euro King-sized bed) and we’ve had a scattering of guests use it over the past couple of years (but we now have an über-comfy sofa bed in our living room). Today, Steve helped me take it apart and we also shifted some things into the storage area that the bed used to block. There’s quite enough space left over for me to store some big things (batting, my collection of tulle and organza, some big art quilt patterns) in there.
- A new space to create
I am of course keeping my mother’s sewing cabinet. I brought this with me twelve years ago when I moved from California to Scotland, and six years ago when I moved to Devon. It has only been since I have been living here, with my biggest studio space ever that I have room for it in my studio. I’ve actually never used it for notions, as my Mom did. Maybe if you come to my Secret Studio on the 5th, you can have a peek into the drawers!
My mother's sewing cabinet
I went onto the IKEA website and printed off a shopping list of shelving units, a wall mounted fold-up table and a desk top shelf to replace the bed. My wonderful Steve is going to pop into IKEA when he’s in Bristol midweek and pick everything up for me. I also ordered a great storage system for all of my printer paper. I’m so excited to be shifting my studio space around and making it more efficient. In fact, my goal is to make my art studio as easy to work in and tidy up as our kitchen/food studio is.
Life is quickening all around. What new things might be starting to stir inside of you?
Eggnog is one of a few nostalgic,
must have holiday treats from my childhood. As a kid, I remember getting cartons of eggnog from the supermarket at Thanksgiving and Christmas and loving it. And when I got older, spiking it with rum or brandy.
Since I can’t buy eggnog in the UK, I made some for our 2nd annual Dessert Party a couple of weeks ago. The homemade version is so much better than store bought and well worth the effort.
.
Homemade Eggnog
- 6 large eggs, plus 2 yolks
- 1/2 cup, plus 2 tablespoons sugar
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 4 cups whole milk
- 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
- 1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg
- 1/4 cup heavy cream, whipped to soft peaks
- Additional grated nutmeg for garnish
Combine eggs, egg yolks, sugar, and salt in a heavy 3- or 4-quart pan, whisking until well-combined. Continue whisking while pouring milk in a slow, steady stream until completely incorporated. Turn on burner to lowest possible heat setting. Place pan on burner and stir mixture continuously until an instant-read thermometer reaches 160° F and the mixture thickens enough to coat the back of a spoon. Be patient. This should take about 45 to 60 minutes.
Strain mixture through a fine sieve into a large bowl to remove any accidental small cooked bits of egg. Add vanilla extract and nutmeg, stirring to combine. Pour into a glass pitcher, decanter, or container and cover with a lid or plastic wrap. Refrigerate this egg custard mixture to chill at least 4 hours or up to 3 days before finishing.
Just before serving, stir in the whipped cream and sprinkle with freshly ground nutmeg.
Eggnog may have simply developed from posset, a medieval European 
beverage made with hot milk. The “nog” part of its name may stem from the word “noggin”, a Middle English term used to describe a small, carved wooden mug used to serve alcohol.
The ingredients for the drink were expensive in England, so there it was popular mainly among the aristocracy. Those who could get milk and eggs to make eggnog mixed it with brandy or Madeira or even sherry. The drink crossed the Atlantic to the English colonies during the 18th century. Since brandy and wine were heavily taxed, rum from the Triangular Trade with the Caribbean was a cost-effective substitute.
The inexpensive liquor, coupled with plentiful farm and dairy products, helped the drink become very popular in America. When the supply of rum to the newly-founded United States was reduced as a consequence of the American Revolutionary War, Americans turned to domestic whiskey, and eventually bourbon in particular, as a substitute. Traditionally, eggnog was usually served warm and laced with spirits. Since the 1960s, eggnog has often been served cold and without spirits, both of which are significant departures from its historical origins.
I also remembered a drink called Tom and Jerry, a traditional Christmastime
cocktail in the United States and did a bit of research. In the 1820′s Pierce Egan, a period author, wrote a book called “Life in London; or, The Day and Night Scenes of Jerry Hawthorn, Esq. and his elegant friend Corinthian Tom, accompanied by Bob Logic, The Oxonian, in their Rambles and Sprees through the Metropolis“. This book was enormously popular to young men who aspired to a dashing life and detailed drinking, gambling, rioting, cock-fighting and other branches of debauchery, either practised or contemplated by the friends.
To publicize his work Mr. Egan made up a variation of eggnog he called “Tom and Jerry”. It added 1/2 oz of brandy to the basic recipe (fortifying it considerably and adding further to its popularity).
Life in London was wonderfully illustrated by George and Robert Cruikshank.
A street fight taking place in front of a park.
"Tom and Jerry larking at a masquerade supper at the Opera-House."
To make a Tom and Jerry cocktail, I simply warmed up a cup of eggnog and added a ½ jigger each of rum and brandy. Egan’s book gave us not only the expression ‘Tom and Jerryism’ for the loutish behaviour the friends liked to engage in, but also provided William Hanna and Joseph Barbera with the names for their more famous cat-and-mouse pair.
So, I’ll leave you now with inspiration for a new holiday tipple and ‘The Night Before Christmas’ . . . . .
. . . . . . and a reminder not to imbibe too much eggnog!
For me, the wintertime festive season begins in early December when the nights really start to draw in, the trees are bare, hard frosts and snow seal the world in a mantle of icy white.
This is the dark and silent, turning inward time of year. The time after the harvest when we and the earth naturally enter a season of quiet and rest. I’ve been leaving work after dark to ride along the river valley to my bus stop. As I cross the apple orchard, the moon and stars shine brightly between the once leafy, apple laden branches.
Advent new moon
At the same time, in this restful season, there is the warmth and sparkling joy of time spent at home with my beloved and with friends and family. The comforting traditions of favourite foods and movies and the joy of new discoveries.
Burne-Jones' Last Judgment window, Birmingham Cathedral
I love candlelight and fairy lights that shine in the darkness, and all of the things that bring magic to the season such as Christmas decorations, cards and carols, wreaths and holly, reindeer and robins, our Advent calendar.
Yuletide is a winter festival that was initially celebrated by the historical Germanic people as a pagan religious festival, though it was later absorbed into, and equated with, the Christian festival of Christmas. I love the idea of the winter holiday encompassing many days and different traditions.
St. Andrew''s churchyard, Moretonhampstead
Yule tree with dancing hearts, Tivoli Gardens, Copenhagen
Most of all, I love being at Home for Christmas.
Our village, Moretonhampstead, in the snow
