Daffodil Day

August 26 is Daffodil Day and each year I organise a morning tea in my workplace to raise money for cancer research.

Like many families, our family has been affected by cancer too keenly and too often. But I know there are lots of bright, clever minds out there trying to work this one out.  And one day they will.

If our combined efforts to raise funds keeps these researchers and scientists in a job so they can pay their bills and raise their children and be able to apply their minds to find the answers we need, then I am more than happy to do my bit too.

Every little bit helps.

the humble jam drop

There's something rather steady and reliable about the jam drop. It's like the tug boat of the biscuit world.

In winter, I like to sit on my front porch step to catch the afternoon sun, absent-mindedly dipping them in my tea. With its little medal of red jam, and buttery, toasted almond taste, this little fellow will set you up perfectly for the afternoon.

If you'd like the recipe, let me know.

caramel tea cake

I baked this caramel cake for tea recently. It's based on a recipe from Alison Thompson's book Bake.

Alison lives and works in beautiful Yarra Glen in Melbourne's Yarra Valley and at one time worked for the Little Venice Cake Co. in London. I have tweaked the icing recipe to give it a creamier taste and to make it a little less sweet. If you don't have unsalted butter, use salted butter and modify the amount of salt you add. Remember to keep tasting it every time you add some salt so it's just as you like it.

Caramel Icing
200g (7oz) soft brown sugar
60g (2oz) unsalted butter
50ml (1 3/4 fl oz) milk
100g (4oz) cream cheese
11/2 tsp salt

good morning!

My friend N has moved to Abu Dhabi to live. I'm not sure when I will see her again. 

When she told me she was leaving I thought of a book I had about two women who lived on opposite sides of the United States and shared a year of their lives through a digital photo taken each morning. Their story and images caught the imagination of people around the world and their personal project became a book A Year of Mornings. 3,191 Miles Apart.

Each day since N's been gone, we've sent a photo of something from our morning to each other. A vignette of simple, everyday things. We don't write anything, we don't give the photo a caption, we don't even look at the photo that's arrived in our inbox before we have taken our own and sent it on its way. 

Our photo journal of our lives at the beginning of a new day is unsophisticated and intimate and won't win any prizes. Somehow though, through the photos, we are connected in our daily lives. And the photos cause me to pause and contemplate the solace and joy of an everyday life.

N and I live 7,472 miles apart. Photos from 5 July 2011.

baking for three generations

The lovely Mrs H first came to me to ask me to make her daughter's first birthday cake. And then, sometime later, her nanna was turning 80 and she asked me to make her birthday cake. The brief was pink, feminine - and she loves roses! And then, sometime after that, Mrs H's mum was marrying again and could I do the wedding cake and cupcakes?

I have baked for three generations of this lovely family and my cakes are part of the stories handed down through their family. How wonderful is that!

brown paper packages tied up with string...

Parcels arriving by post. Definitely one of my favourite things.

My friend C in Canberra was lamenting the demise of the shop around the corner - her local bookshop. Whilst we are both avid readers, C still buys her books from the bookshop whereas I buy all of mine online nowadays. Indeed, I have for some time. One of the consequences of this has been the return of the simple pleasure of receiving a parcel in the post.

I love getting parcels. Even though I know what's in them (after all, it's only me that's sending me things), there's a giddy delight I feel when I come through the gate to find a small, brown package quietly waiting for me on the doorstep. I hurriedly turn the key in the front door, pop the kettle on and reach for a pair of scissors.

a perfect Saturday

It's cold and wet outside but inside it's toasty-warm from the oven. The smell of plump, dried fruits soaked in orange floral muscat with cinnamon, cardamom and nutmeg and freshly zested oranges and lemons, all baking in a cake. Listening to Desert Island Discs with a cup of tea and a slice of chocolate cake, thumbing through cook books and shopping for a new apron on Etsy. A perfect Saturday.

sugar posies

There is something very lovely about individually-fashioned, edible flowers on a wedding cake. And to be asked to make something so beautiful and unique for someone's special day is a real pleasure.

This particular design incorporates peonies, ranunculus, hydrangeas, foliage, buds and small blossoms, and I have used five different shades of green petal dust to create this colour palette.

If kept out of the direct sunlight and in a dry place, sugar flowers can last a lifetime and make a charming family heirloom.

thank you girls!

Well, this day had to come. The girls who supply me with fresh, organic eggs can't do it anymore and they are retiring.

Mr D, who owns the girls, wrote a lovely letter explaining that hens can only lay for so long and that he is far too attached to them to - you know - yet he doesn't have room enough for a fresh brood unless he (gets rid of them). Which is not happening! So the girls are staying.

They will continue to scratch for worms and beetles in Mr D's garden and keep an eye on the caterpillars in the cabbages, but there will be no more eggs. Well, perhaps the occasional one for Mr D's breakfast, but not enough for my cakes. So I'm looking for a new source of fresh eggs. And the girls? Well, they're having a lie in.

Thank you girls!

one, two, three!

Mr & Mrs W are the proud parents of triplets. Two bouncy boys and an equally bouncy girl. Beautiful, cheeky, smiley cherubs.

Well, before long it was the babies' first birthday (time flies you know) and the Ws needed a birthday cake for their poppets.

The day came for the big event. The babies were all scrubbed, Mrs W wore her new lipstick and Mr W was very proud. It was a fine affair and everyone squeezed the babies and ate lots of cake - even the babies! Happy 1st birthday baby G, J & M xxx

pink & black

Why is the colour pairing of pink and black so often associated with the French? I don't know. Do you?

Pink and black makes me think of the film Gigi. I used to daydream about being Gigi when I was a little girl. Bubbles tickling my nose from my first sip of champagne, the rustle of eau de nil silk taffeta skirts, and beauty salons staffed with young women in black uniforms and tight chignons.

By the time I reached my 20's, I was a devotee of Guerlain's Jardins de Bagatelle dispensed from voluptuous atomisers and a regular patron at French film festivals.

So when Miss K asked me to create a birthday cake for her very special birthday that was fun, yet chic - I thought a design in pink and black would be perfect. Miss K was delighted. Bon anniversaire Miss K!

royal cakes & royal icing

Miss Z & Mr S have kindly asked me to make their wedding cake.

Miss Z's grandfather was a baker and she grew up eating the very best fruit cakes on family occasions. For their wedding, the couple have chosen tiered, fragrant fruit cakes which bring back such happy memories.

Today I will macerate the dried fruits for their cake so they will be juicy and plump in preparation for baking next weekend.

My fruit cakes are based on Eddie Spence MBE's recipe. Eddie has been part of the finest English cake decorating traditions for over 50 years and his renowned royal icing skills earned him the opportunity to work on Prince Charles & Lady Diana Spencer's wedding cake and Her Majesty the Queen & Prince Philip's golden wedding anniversary cake.

Sadly, the art of piping in royal icing is no longer in demand. But there are few things more soothing than to sit at my table in front of the window, watching the wind in the trees, creating fine, lacy designs in sugar.

a little eleven o'clockish.

 “When late morning rolls around and you're feeling a bit out of sorts, don't worry; you're probably just a little eleven o'clockish". Winnie the Pooh

That's just how I'm feeling - a little eleven o'clockish. I need to get a move on. So I've put the kettle on and will eat a large slice of the apple pie I baked for last night's tea.

Mr Clam and I have friends  coming for tea tonight and I want to bake a caramel cake that I've not tried before. The recipe is from Alison Thompson's book Bake. I'll let you know how it turns out.