Chocolate, Cherry & Coconut Macaroon Slice

The body was willing but the mind was not. Baking has been unceremoniously shoved to the back burner. Perhaps it was a subconscious reaction to having a diabetic guest, my father, who stared with hungry eyes at the few home baked treats. I certainly found it hard to munch through a biscuit while speaking with him; his grand children have no such scruples. Why cruelly tempt the poor man? My resolve was broken by The Scotsman, who peered deeply into the bowels of the fridge before flinging open cupboard doors, scavenging for treats. It went on for days, The Scotsman getting more ornery without a post-dinner sugar fix. I finally got the message and donned the baking apron. I wished for the cupboard hinges to remain intact.

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Meanwhile in the kitchen…

Every few months I get the urge to re-arrange my folders and icons on my beloved Mac. Pity that enthusiasm for organisation doesn’t spill over to the rest of my life. The cleanup had refreshed my memory of food that I had made, loved, made again and photographed.

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Allspice Roast Chicken & Sweet Potatoes

Melanie, my sister, wails with annoyance when yet another reminiscence of our rambunctious adventures in childhood draws a clear, straight forward blank in my mind. I sit, blinking dumbly at her, trying to rattle the chest of memories; nowt, nada. It’s an unfortunate quirk, for lack of a better word, that seems to have followed me through life. I am infamous for my lack of memory, at once a blessing and a curse. The hard parts stay, the difficult fades, the good remain on the fringes but I consider it fortunate that she is the gatekeeper of our good times. The older you get, the more you need to be with those who knew you when you were young.

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Chestnut Soup

And it’s 2014!! December whizzed by in a flash of ripped wrapping paper, sparkly lights and clinking glasses. I selfishly surrendered control of my kitchen to my houseguest and she pulled out all the stops, dishing out one cracking meal after another.

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Carb fest for the Needy

We were under siege. While Lil Lassie and The Scotsman went prancing about their daily lives and taking their good health for granted, Lil Loon and I were in a state of misery. And as misery loves company, we huddled most of the weeks under fleece blankets, watching How to Train A Dragon (dang I love that movie), peppered with Ice Age.

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Melting Moments for Tough Times

I made a huge batch of the most perfect lemon curd. The recipe it was intended for tanked spectacularly, a tragic mass of sliding fat and collapsing layers. I braved a second attempt but humidity and egg whites loathe each other. I’m sticking with that. My ineptitude left me with a colossal amount of lemon curd. I gave some away, I made scones to pile it into, slathered it on crumpets, licked off a spoonful in private, but there was still just that bit left over. Alongside, sat a taunting half a cupful of cream, a second reminder of my failed attempts. Vicious things.

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