muppinstuff

quiet weekend

Today I drove around in the sunshine, visited my favourite opshop on the way to the supermarket and bought a pair of beautiful Italian boot/shoes that Grace touched but put away in her shoe drawer, some summer gardening pants for me (I'm starting to think that my wardrobe for the next year will need lots of things that can get covered in dirt or paint) and a big stack of magazines that I'd call house p*rn. Only I'm not allowed to call it that, because as G says, it's not a word we want Grace to be using. Then I went to my second favourite opshop and looked out the top floor window at the clouds scudding across the western horizon and felt happy. By the time I'd finished the fruit shopping and the supermarket, it was three so I didn't spend the afternoon sewing as planned. Just sort of hung out at home with the family. Pottering. Making spanakopita for dinner. Talking about our plans. It's nice to have a quiet weekend once in a while.

Last weekend was consumed with the Pool Together event for the Coburg Olympic Pool and it was the most amazing success. Exhausting in a way but also, crowded, good humoured and fun beyond our wildest dreams. People came that no-one knew even. Although I did run into some people that live where we're moving to where the conversation would start off... you look familiar, or I know you?.. and then we'd work out a connection from some past point in life. In a good way. And it felt really good to be part of the goup that made it happened. It's been a long time since I volunteered in any sense and I think I like it. Gee, the places that blogging will take you... (but that's a story for later I think). Anyway, I'm feeling very positive about the upcoming move. It feels like exactly the right place for us.

Grace and I made crazy lurid gingermen for the cake stall and because, while I was doing last weeks's supermarket shopping (in a rush, as opposed to meandering down the aisles singing love is in the air and dancing queen), I became certain they weren't going to be any good and that furthermore I would be judged badly as a woman (who used to have a cafe) on my baking, I decided to make lemon slice as well. So there's been a bit of a baking frenzy. Neurotic but fun. It was my first cake stall as a mum, so I'm going to let that one through to the keeper. And relax next time.

three

On Saturday afternoon, after a morning spent baking a luridly coloured cake with Grace and a sticky at an auction in a nearby suburb, I stopped off at the big fruit shop (as opposed to being slack and just getting everything at safeway) where I bumped into a friend from a past life. Her children are a few years older than Grace and I mentioned I was shopping for a lunch to celebrate Grace's third birthday. I bet it's feels like it's gone really quickly, she said.  Yeah, I guess it has, I replied and then went back to running around making last minute changes to the next day's menu and obsessing over whether the grapes were fresh and if the strawberries would taste of anything (yes and double yes). Later that night, as we wrapped presents, G and I talked about when Grace was a baby and how quickly she's growing up. How she comes and says, Mumma (or Daddy), I've got a big idea.... and her increasingly complicated play world. We both became quite sentimental and nostalgic. Although I want her to to grow up and take great joy in the unfolding of her world, there's also part of me that wants to hold onto all that she's been before. To still be able to hold her at my breast as an infant, on my hips as a one year old, to watch her bumshuffle and take her first steps.

Anyway, this is the first year that Grace has had any real sense of birthday consciousness. With anticpation. That it's all about her. She wanted balloons and a cake with ice.

Would you believe safeway ran out of balloons? Never mind, I eventually tracked some down and even if half of them had holes in them, they were a great hit. As was the cake. Especially the decorating of said cake, which we did together in the morning before she had a little nap. It was basically a plain cake with chocolate ripple in the middle for height. Grace hasn't quite got the hang of blowing out the candles, but she had a good go.

It was a lovely lunch, even if I do say myself. Grace really enjoyed the presents, possibbly the biggest hit were some small figurines from Nina and the card with three on it, and raced around afternoon. The happiness and light in her face during the happy birthday song was a joy to behold.  Happy Birthday Grace!

reviewed and resolved; and a bit about jam and the weather

It's been stinkin' hot here. Yesterday it was 43C (that's 109F) and emerging from the comfort of mum's car was like walking into a fan-forced oven (at the temperature for merringue?). Yes, we went shopping, Victoria Gardens. Fewer shops, much less crowded than Highpoint, but with Ikea.  I love Ikea and it's so very seductive. At the end I had to sort through the trolley and decide whether I really needed another cutlery drainer. Spent an appalling (for me) amount of money on baskets, kid room storage, tin bowls and other faffery. Useful faffery, which makes it OK on occasion and last time I was pregnant with Grace. So it's all good.

Last night it only got down to 37C (99F),and as the Bureau of Meterology said, it was an oppressive night. So not much sleep for me. Luckily I made apricot jam the other day, when it was just hot, not ridiculously hot. I used a new method and am absurdly pleased with how it turned out.

There are now twenty jars of jam in the cupboard, which was my freaky jam making goal for this summer. If I make some yellow plum jelly, I'll exceed my own expectations, which would be quite nice at present. So anyway, for the reviewed and resolved, new year type stuff, I'm only going to talk about the good stuff. The other stuff, that's too dour a way to start a new year.

Looking back at 2007, I'm pleased about:

• Learning to use DSLR camera my Dad gave me. There's a life time of learning to be had there, but I've made a good start.
• Putting my photos on Flickr. Eventhough I don't have time to comment and browse much, uploading a couple of times a week has gotten me in the habit of working through all the photos I take as I go. My filing and archiving systems are also better now. The thought of thousands of unedited photos clogging my hardrive gives me the shudders.
• Getting through most of the year at work, some of it nearly full time and mostly being genuine and compassionate with customers. Improving my skills and knowlege, including developing expertise in a particular field. All the time working within the legislative framework. Obviously I can't go into too much detail, but I'm giving myself a rather big pat on the back here.
• Changing our routine at home so we always eat dinner at the table together. This bowls me over, we didn't do this all the time when I was a child. I remember wanting to and my instincts were right. Sometimes it's hard eating with a two (and three quarters) year old but mostly it's great. It forces us to stick to a sensible dinner time and we groove out to music and chat. Our cooking has improved too.
• Blogging. Somewhere to offload, debrief, be shallow, think about things in more detail. I've truly come to love this form of writing. It's bought me back to words and enriched my inner life in a way I never expected. It's also been a great community for me. And I've met lots of lovely ladies in person. Who'd a thunk it? Details; here, here and here. So to everyone who's been a reader, commenter or casual lurker, thank you.

In 2008 I'd like to:

• Do another photography course. One specially aimed at DSLRs, including a photoshoot. If anything, doing a course sets aside dedicated time for learning about my camera. The last one was such a buzz.
• Make another calender for Christmas.
• Buy a house. Not just any house but one that can become our home and not split us asunder in the process.
• Start working towards another form of income for the future. Something more freelance. I'm thinking about writing books (ideas for children's fiction and adult non fiction), small business commercial websites, a way for G to sell his woodwork maybe. Not starting a new business. Realistically, that's going to be too hard alongside working, buying a house and making said house livable, but just sampling some ideas here and there. Trying things on, seeing how they fit.
• More waterplay. Perhaps swimming as excercise for me during summer. Start Grace with swimming lessons (maybe in about six months). Make sure we go to the beach, the pool, the river and maybe a dam. Grace loves the water and so do I. Learn to take pictures underwater, because my new little carry everywhere camera can.
• Try and keep some space in my life for art with Grace, art for me (ideas for wrapping paper and cards) and sewing. Learn to make a quilt. Make some more sewn knitwear, because I really enjoy that.
• Clean the windows. Let the floors, the dusting and the bathroom go, but clean windows, they lift your spirits. Well, they do mine.
• Learn the art of the short blog post. Ha!

Happy 2008 everyone!

And it's now a comfortable 24C (75F). Time for some sleep.

little plum jam

We have a big old plum tree in the centre of our back yard. Possibly grown from weed seeds, probably more than one plant growing in the same hole. The leaves grow lacy from cutleaf moth and parts of the bark are insect infested and crumbling. Parrots squawk overhead, dropping squishy plum missiles and birdshit onto the washing (reaching a crescendo just after Christmas as the plums ferment). G curses the plums on the grass and the path. And inevitably, despite feet wiping and shoes removing, track all through the house. He's much better at sweeping them up than I am.

Yesterday and Sunday I made plum jam (recipe here). These plums aren't great to eat on their own and they're a bugger to prepare but they make the best jam. Especially when made with a precentage of green fruit. The first batch is mouth puckeringly tart. Mum suggested that I could make some with ripe fruit as well, so for the second batch I left out the really green ones. It's still pretty tangy but that's the way I like it. If I get a chance, I'll make another batch when they're fully ripe. I think they're damson plums. If anyone knows for sure, please let me know.

First we pick and wash the fruit.

 

Then we stone it. My hands are not recovered yet. I know, I should wear gloves, but it's too slow.

Put the jars in the oven before boiling the jam. Admire your super large preserving pan found at the opshop sometime in the nineties and mix all the sugar in. Wonder about the childminding arrangements. G agreed to look after Grace while the jam was boiling on Sunday but she wanted to help me. At one stage, I thought I was going to have burnt jam and hours of wasted preparation or much worse, a burnt child. Not that it was close, just that boiling four kilos of fruit and sugar on a low and wonky stove and supervising a toddler is beyond nervewracking (never again). The deal was supposed to involve G supervising Grace while I cooked, whether or not she wanted to be involved. So I could concentrate during the critical part. Mum knows how to do this. G dissappeared into his shed at the first sign thing looked OK. Which varies moment to moment with a two and a half year old. And I am still not the easiest person to deal with.

Anyway, I made the second batch yesterday. While Grace was napping. It was so much easier. I even stood at the stove and did some light mending. Alternating with stirring. Then I poured the jam into jars and listened for the snap of the cellophane covers shrinking.

I saw a stray pip and some froth. Talked on the phone about jam with a friend, neither of us goes for jam making perfection because it always turns out well enough. And always far better than shop jam. In odd parts of the day, I wondered whether I could have skimmed the froth more. I used to skim alot because that's how my nan taught me. I'm less and less inclined to skim now. What causes the froth? Is it sugar boiling or impurities in the fruit? And does it mostly go away by itself?  Looked to the internet for answers and the best I could come up with was this. Which didn't really answer my question.

Next up apricot. And maybe some of the little yellow plums which I've never jammed before. Must plant some damson pips in a pot. 

in catering mode

In a previous life, I worked as a cook. We had a cafe. Me, my mum and my sister.  I had planned on becoming a writer, but one day I found myself in front of a big stove with four burners and a side grill and there I was managing a kitchen, dealing with suppliers, hiring (and firing) staff. With no commercial training or experience. Just blind faith and some very firm ideas about food. To say that the next year was a learning curve is a massive understatement, but learn I did. We all did.

And one of the things I learnt was how to cater an occasion. You start with a reason, a time and a place. Numbers, how many vegetarians, vegans, rabid meat eaters. And a budget. Then you talk with the client. Work out a menu, maybe an alternative menu. A shopping list. Refer back to the the budget. Make a plan of when you will do various bits and pieces. Who will help and when. Back and forth, time permitting, until everyone more or less agrees. Because on the day, there's no time for democracy. If I've planned well, it will go smoothly. And I do plan well, even now, because otherwise it all ends in tears and chaos.

In this photo, I'm icing some yo-yos I made the night before. G is out dropping Grace at Nana's. I'm working methodically, listening to Endorphin and thinking about the afternoons event. Thinking about our friend Steve who won't be there. Steve, Gerard and I organised this event months ago. Steve insisted on giving us cash to buy the food. I remember I tried to convince him that a simple funeral followed by the wake would be a good idea, but he wouldn't have it. He was adamant that he just wanted a party with all his friends and family there. He requested a cake and I wish I'd had time to make it myself, because the bakery really didn't get the colour right. I knew they wouldn't. Still, even organising a cake was touch and go at such short notice. We couldn't find a set of miniature drums to put on top. So G went out in the shed and made some. Steve would have liked that, I think.

Of course, when we rocked up with the big esky of sandwiches, the other esky of antipasto type things, the fruit platter, the bags and boxes, I thought I had massively overcatered. Eventhough I knew I hadn't. There just seemed so much food and there was a peculiar intensity in the atmosphere. All the emotion that people express together at a funeral just seemed to be leaking out at the sides. More than one person had a cry in the laundry. An hour or so in, I put the sausage rolls out and bang, people started eating. After the speeches, we served the cake and then as we were re-organising the food table and cleaning up, we sent out the rest of the sandwiches. By the time we were ready to leave, there were just a few people left. Someone started a fire and it looked like the night was just beginning again.

Such a sad time, but it was good to feel like we could do something useful. I'd also like to thank everyone who's commented or emailed. It's very much appreciated.

More food here.

after shopping

Doing the weekly shop is of those household tasks that I've been trying to offload, without a whole lot of sucess. It's not my favourite thing, going to the supermarket. And week after week there's a sameness about it that bores me senseless. Yet, it's a task that seems to keep coming back to me. G's good at doing midweek shops for bread and other supplies but I seem to have the knack of the big shop. I'm pretty good at choosing the best fruit and veg at a price, and I seem to buy just about the right amount of food. Not so much that we waste it, enough that we don't run out of most things. It drives me batty when we run out of everything all at once during the week and then have to go to the shop before making dinner everynight. Eventhough there's a supermarket and fruit shop within walking distance.

I'm very particular about how I unpack the groceries and stack the fridge. Afterwards, I really enjoy the sight of a freshly filled fridge and a sweet canteloupe on the shelf waiting to be cut up for after dinner. Quite apart from the satisfaction of a neat fridge, it makes me feel very fortunate that we can just go out and do the big shop, without thinking about whether we can afford it this week. At work there's a box in the tea room for us to donate shopping items to send to familes in rural areas affected by the drought. There's been some heartrending accounts from rural colleagues of just how hard people in some areas have been hit. Kids going to school with headlice because there's not enough money for treatments and shampoo. Lots of other stuff too, but for some reason that got to me.

We might complain about how the cost of food is rising every week, but we are still very lucky.

More food for thought here.

 

There was also cooking

Well yes, that was a bit of a gushing forth the other day wasn't it? Funny, I had all these plans to sew during Grace's naps and do some bloggy stuff in the evenings, and garden, and cook. As it was, I watched a fair bit of tv at night (first season of the the sopranos on dvd) and raced around during Grace's naps picking things up, getting things ready or staring vacantly out the window wondering if I had time for a nap. I didn't. I now have a much renewed appreciation of how G and I work together so we each get some time to ourselves. He's back, he's rested and I'm enjoying us all being together again. Oh yes, indeed.

So what did I cook? Golden syrup dumplings which we had for afternoon tea on Sunday. Yum, yum, pigs bum (a phrase I'm teaching Grace, probably not a totally great idea, but we both find it funny). There was also cheesecake. Made in a blistering hurry, sort of using the recipe on the cream cheese packet and a little less sweet than I would have liked. Chocolate ripple base, lemon raspberry filling. I didn't whip the philly cheese properly, but all the lumps disappeared magically overnight. It was all eaten after lunch at Betty's on Saturday and pronounced delicious.

We've had lamb chops, sausages and I also roasted a chicken, with pumpkin, parsnip and onions. Most roast vegetable being on the banned list. Then I boiled a stock from the carcass and made soup. But put too many bits in it, so it ended up more like a chicken and barley stew. It was still nice, especially at the end when I strained most of the bits out, and then put the best bits back in. Yum, yum, pigs bum. Despite intially turning up her nose, Grace liked it too, almost as much as porridge. And there's bolognese in the freezer, although after talking with some of the women at work and I think I could improve on that one. Also bought some good bread from Natural Tucker (where they gave Grace a free muffin because she was being absolutely charming in the shop). Haven't bought good bread for ages and so have been eating toast for lunch.

The garden is a boggy, soggy mess of weeds and I haven't been at all tempted to get amongst it. Although there is lots to do. I did however manage to get out and appreciate the geranium leaves for a few moments. I love it how they change colour in the cold.

And we went and had a look at a ramshackle house. Along with every other person looking for a do-er-upperer in Brunswick. It was terrible, the roof had collapsed in places, the floor was wet in places and it was crammed full of stuff. And it stunk. The old guy had been moved out a couple of months ago but it was still awful to think that someone had been living there. Everyone seemed to be saying that it was a knock down, but I thought it had potential. Terrible, and probably more than we could afford, especially as it's a fair way of habitable, but definitely it had huge potential. It will be interesting to see what G thinks. He's the buildery one. I just have concepts. But I think he'd like it. Eventhough it probably isn't the one. I expect looking at houses is going to become one of my topics over the next few months. I wanted to take photos but I don't know whether that's the done thing, definitely not if people are still living there, but what about if the house is empty? 

friday night food meme

At the moment in the car I'm listening to Greendale (Neil Young), someday, you'll find everything you're looking for... It's a good thing I can't really talk about work or certain other aspects of my life here. It's been a beastly week on so many levels. One day I'm going to write, everything is going really, really well. I am. And I will mean it. But anyway, eating is good. Perhaps too good. 

Tonight's meme is about food. From Kerryn.

What are your favourite foods?
Cherries, dark and slightly tangy with a touch of resistance to the bite. Chocolate. Biting and creamy lemon curd tart. Cold rice pudding with sultanas and mixed spice, the day after with cream. Really good sourdough bread with a thick crust (Natural Tucker casalinga still a bit warm from the oven comes to mind). Sour crunchy dill pickles. Excellent yellow peaches. Mid-loin lamb chops barbequed over the fire and eaten in your hands with a smidgen of garlic yoghurt dressing and some bread cooked on the griddle. Soup. I like making soup. Lentil and barley which I could eat several times a week. And new creations like the standard red lentil and sweet potato soup with a beetroot from the garden to add an earthy undertone and the best colour.

What foods do you hate?
Boarding school cuisine of lumpy custard and watery gravy. Crap white bread. Packet pasta with lots of numbers. Deb instant mash, especially the way my sister used to make it as a child, watery and with lumps and serve with frozen peas and some grilled meat. (She's a good cook now, but some of the food we ate as kids...ugh shudder).  Disappointing cakes that look great but once you bite into them you realise it's all commercial flavours and cheap vegetable shortening. Apples that have been in storage for years, on the shelves for weeks and smell musty and taste like paste. Creme caramel and most baked or egg custards. Except lemon curd and lemon tart which when they are good, I adore and custard tart which is OK.

Foods you like but are embarrassed to admit:
Packet custard. In some moods I'll eat maccas (mcdonalds) but it's never as good as I think it will be and always sits badly. Snowballs. Chinese food from food courts, or from one particular food court.

Strangest food you’ve eaten and enjoyed?
Can't think really. I don't go out of my way to eat strange things.

Cooking failures that still rankle?
My aunt's sixtieth birthday cake. Too big, with texture like pudding and icing that wouldn't stop running. I so wanted to get it right and everyone was so nice when I didn't. The sago plum pudding with the undissolved sago about ten years ago. A family Christmas and that was when we had the cafe so expectation was high. And the brandy spilt in the back of the car on the way over. Then there was the first ever function we did at the cafe. In my naivete, I thought we could just offer the normal menu. It was an utter disaster. And it was people I knew from a job I had the summer before, where a couple of other friends worked. After the last meal had been served, I went into the storeroom and had a cry, only to be comforted by a man I had a crush on but who I had just realised was married to someone in that office. That's a whole other story... but oh the humiliation.   

Ingredients you don’t want to consider living without?
Butter. Olive oil (remember life before olive oil?). Salt. Yeast. Sugar. Flour. Eggs. With these things I can make almost anything with whatever else is around.

Highly desirable; parsley and other herbs from the garden. Garlic, pepper, lemons. Tinned beans and tomatoes. Cheese. Fresh fruit.

 

Current kitchen conundrum?
I need some new staple dinners. And some new ones for G to cook too. Oh and remembering to unplug the toaster. Because in a flash Grace is up there playing at making toast and seeing what happens when you stick a knife in there. Other than that she's quite good in the kitchen, she loves to help make her breakfast. She's a dab hand with sandwiches too. And baking. And helping herself from the fridge which I'm in several minds about. We're re-thinking the policy on that one. It's her house too and at some stage she should be able to help herself to a drink or snack but not endless jam sandwiches, orange juice and ham. As would be her choice now. Notice that we're eating supermarket bread too, thats something that's sort of snuck in, under the radar so to speak.

Cuisine you’d like to know more about?
I'd like to be able to cook a good vegetarian curry and a lentil dahl. Previous attempts have been woeful. I can do a good fish in coconut milk but that's not very useful when you live with a vego.

Foods you’ve hated but have grown to love?
Anchovies. Chillies. Bitter lettuce.

how I like my breakfast

This is how I like my breakfast on non-working days to go; bircher like muesli (grated apple, slightly swelled oats, sultanas, water, yoghurt, walnuts) with Mole Creek honey on top, orange juice with soda water and strong stovetop espresso with milk. In a big mug which I don't drink until it's nearly cold. I also like the table to be clear of newspapers I'm not reading, although I don't mind the odd little toy to fidget with or to amuse Grace. But what I really, really love is twenty minutes of peace. No talking, no yelling, no having to change a nappy or answer the phone or negotiate what's happening today. Lately G has been taking Grace for a little walk down the lane at about half past nine. The perfect time to have breakfast after doing some folding or putting on a load of washing or faffing on the internet. And the best thing? Twenty minutes to sit in front of the heater and read. Bliss.

At the moment I'm reading Drift, by Penni Russon of Eglantine's Cake. I've just finished Breathe, which is the sequel to Undine. I read Undine just after Christmas. I told G that was what I wanted for Christmas and he traipsed all over town until he found a copy. I loved it. I'd take a picture of the beautiful greeny cover but it's doing the rounds at the moment. At Betty's I think. Anyway, I bought Drift at Angus and Robertson and they were most happy to order in Breathe and I'm pleased to report that I've seen all three at Reader's Feast and Dymocks in the city, several other Angus and Robertsons, including the one at Box Hill. They'll be in the young adult section, but don't let that fool you. These books might be about a girl becoming a woman, but they're layered and read at different levels. I think my 11 year old reading mad stepsister will enjoy them (for Christmas I think), as did my mum.  There's a magic running through them that's very believable, but still very special and well, magic.

They trilogy is set in a Hobart that seems strangely familiar to me, just from visits and holidays. Or maybe it's the contemporary Australian voice that's making me feel that. Anyway, when I get the whole set together again, they'll go in the special bookshelf of authors we have known or met (Penni's very nice, we met at Ceres for babychinos and chat a while back). There have been some good reviews around (including a feminist academic reading that Penni linked to on her blog a while back but I've lost), but apparently there's also a bitter, mean one on Amazon that spoils the plot. The thought of which kind of upsets me. I feel like I'm on this journey with Undine, the kind that you make with really good characters. So I'm not going to read it until I've finished the series, which I'm really not wanting to end. Why spoil my twenty minutes of peace?

Breakfast meme(?) courtesy of Shula, who's set up a Flickr group, Breakfast Sunday , although I think all breakfasts are welcome.

Fruit into jam

Nothing says summer to me more than a pot of boiling sugar on a hot day. And that sensation of being hot and sweaty and sticky with sugar and fruit juice. But it doesn't start like that. It starts in the cool of the morning with an intention. A resolution that this is the day* we make jam, because if we don't, the birds will finish off what's left of the apricots and the chance will be gone until next year. Unless of course I buy the fruit, which while nice is not quite the same.

I had lots of help. Grace loved being involved with fruit picking and has really enjoyed eating apricots straight from the tree. She had quite a solemness about it, as if she realised that it was a bit more special than usual. Or maybe being the fruit gourmand that she is, she was just savouring the extra freshness, that extra dimension of taste when you eat something still warm from the sun. And the apricots, although nothing special to look at have been sensational this year. When it's dry, the flavours are much more intense.

It was quite difficult to find enough fruit that hadn't been savaged by the birds. Our backyard is a bird paradise at the moment. We're getting wattle birds, little yellow finches, rainbow coloured parrots (are they lorikeets?), the usual black crows and the doves that like to scrape all the mulch of the vegie patch. Not to mention the sparrows and mynahs. So it's noisy and the fruit that was stiil more or less whole was often well, a bit dirty. Not to worry.

This is a view from standing on my milk crate, head in the tree. I'm quite taken with how lush the vegie garden is looking from this angle. Due to the drought most of the parks are yellow. People with lush gardens have signs saying they are using grey water. We don't really have any lawn left, just dust, hard dirt with cracks in it and some scraggly bits of dried grass.  I checked the vegie patch again today (as I do everyday) and the tomatoes and egglplants seem to be doubling in size daily. They are well mulched and don't seem to mind the dry. The last sowing of corn didn't germinate, but the early sowing is about to set ears I think. It must have got rain at a crucial point perhaps?

Anyway, we managed to pck about three kilos of fruit, which is the limit of my jam pot. And more than enough for one afternoons work. I washed all the fruit very thouroughly and it cleaned up much better than I expected. In past years I would have left fruit this dirty on the tree.

I also had to cut off quite a few blemishes. But I enjoyed sitting there listening to Anthony and Cleopatra on the telly. I managed to get most of the boiling done while Grace was having her afternoon nap. Unfortunately she awoke during a critical phase and was not happy to be exclued from the action. But boiling sugar and rampaging toddlers do not mix. So she had to hang out with Daddy for a while.

I had forgotten how tricky apricot jam an be. I used the same method as with the plum jam, but unlike with the plums, it was easy to prepare the fruit. But it's a longer boiling time, more likely to catch and burn and much, much harder to judge when it's ready. These apricots are quite low in pectin so the moment of perfection can be easily missed. If you underboil, it will be runny and too sweet. If you overboil, it will be toffeeish. I think this one might be a little overboiled and has a slightly gorpy texture, but we're all agreed that it has a good flavour. 

I was very careful with the pouring into jars and only had to clean the sides of one jar. I love the sound of the cellophane cracking as it dries and tightens.

We had a friend over for a beer on New Years day and I asked him if he ate jam and then whether he preferred plum or apricot. He nominated the apricot and went home with a big jar. I think we have a few more to give away, which is nice.  I'm feeling quite proud of my jamming efforts this summer. We don't have any more of our own fruit until next summer, unless I can catch the yellow plums, which I've never bothered jamming before. I may yet score some gifts of fruit or see some in the shops that just says jam me. Or I might not. Even so no need for any shop jam at all this year, I think.

* The day was actually New Years Eve, not today which was hotter and would have been truly hellish.