Friday 15th May 2020, 6.25pm (day 3,186)
And so it has come to this after eight weeks of lockdown — abstract shapes in the washing-up bowl. And on a Friday evening too. But they are pleasing shapes, at least to me.
During the Great Hebden Bridge Flour Famine of early April 2020 I panic-bought some organic rye flour, at a ridiculous price, when it seemed to be the only bag of flour available in the town. Subsequently, I have tried making pizza with it, and then batter, and both were dismal failures. Then today, Clare suggested the entirely logical approach of making rye bread with it. At this it — and she — was a roaring success. There will be more of this.
My latest post in the occasional series, “random items strangely abandoned by the roadside”. There have been a number of shoes in this series, a pair of spectacles once. But kitchen utensils? That’s a new one. There must be a story behind this. Not just that a perfectly servicable wok was dumped, but dumped in this specific place. Someone, somewhere, knows why.
Wilfully ignoring the political developments of the day — let’s photograph some food instead. Two days after being picked, these blueberries have darkened to become indistinguishable, colour-wise, from the blackberries tossed in the bowl with them. Add some sugar and cream, and eat to forget.
As this blog extends ever onward — day 2,700 today — and I remain committed to not repeating myself, the semi-mythical, but still plausible, Day When There Will Be Nothing To Photograph draws ever closer. And when that Day arrives, it’ll be one like today — spent entirely in the house marking, with only greyness outside so not even the full-quality house view to distract.
It did cross my mind though, as I made lunch, that, “Hmmm: I have never before tried photographing the gas element on the grill as it is working”. So here you are. As well as my typically elaborate cheese-on-toast arrangement.
But that’s it. I’ve now done the grill. What will happen next time there is a day like this? It could be as early as Thursday…
Joe is the person who has appeared on this blog the most often, but the last time was three months ago, in Guernsey, so let’s have him return with an action shot from one of his rehearsals for his upcoming Food Technology exam (or whatever it is they call it these days). The egg whites are whipped up successfully to the soft peak stage, and the chocolate (72% cocoa solid…) is about to go into be melted. And it all turned out very well.
Having eulogised the plums and blackberries already this year — and for good reason — let us also add the glorious amount, and richness, of 2018’s apples as well — not to mention a second good crop of rhubarb. In this aspect, no one can complain about the year.
You want plums? Trust me, we have some. But seeing as we don’t have a transglobal shipping service to hand, our ability to export this year’s handsome plum crop is limited to putting them in plastic bags and giving them away for free down at the pub, or cooking them up into what preserves we can. Hence, plum ketchup. If you want the recipe it’s towards the end of Delia Smith’s Complete Cookery Course and I followed it religiously, as one should always do with Delia’s guidance.