From Alsace to Yorkshire by Lionel Strub - A Review and a recipe for Brioche

Another review. Get me.

This is another book which is more than just a recipe book.

Before we get to the food, it tells the story of the hard work and dedication of the author, Lionel Strub that took him from his childhood in Alsace, North Eastern France, to his restaurant, Mirabelle in Harrogate, North Yorkshire.

It was clearly not an easy childhood, which saw him spending time in foster care, or with various friends and relations until the age of 8. He is very open about the lack of support he received at school, and it's not surprising that he left at the age of 15 to begin an apprenticeship in a restaurant.

It's easy to think that the life of a chef might be a gilded one, but this is clearly not the case for Lionel, and certainly the early years at 'Le Gran Cerf' in a town not far from Strasbourg sound fairly grim, but what is clear is that grim or not, this is where life started for him.

We learn then about his apprenticeship, his time spent on National Service cooking for soldiers, his move to England in 1986 and more hardwork in a London brasserie before heading North, first to Leeds, and then to Harrogate and his own restaurant, via a deli in Wetherby. It's an impressive story and well worth a read for any one who thinks the chef's life might be an easy one.

Now I haven't eaten at Mirabelle, but if the food in this book is anything to go by, I will be angling for a table the next time I'm up north at my parents'. Strub indicates that most of his recipes come from his Grandma, and as you would expect, there's a real French slant to his dishes. However, that doesn't meant that they are unachievable by any means. In fact, what I like about this book is that many of the recipes are surprisingly straightforward, with short but careful ingredients lists.

The recipes are wide ranging. There's an initial section devoted to Alsacienne recipes, which includes a delicious sounding warm salad of smoked bacon and chicory (salad Vosgienne), a savoury ham cake and a divine and incredibly easy sounding Gateaux aux myrtilles (translated as Bilberry sponge cake -  6 ingredients mixed together and baked - simples). He goes on to cover jams, chutneys and, breads, then starters, mains and desserts, and there's a straightforward grading system indicating the level of difficulty involved for some of the recipes. Pate en croute a l'Anglaise for example (posh pie and peas) is essentially a pie filled with duck confit, foie gras and truffle, served with mushy peas, and rated a Level 4 for the pie. He has plenty of fish and game recipes which I like, and some heavenly puddings, including some very reassuring words about choux pastry, not yet attempted by me, I should add, and a Toblerone cheesecake which is on my must make list for the New Year. Watch this space.

Each section has a little introduction with some general hints and tips, and some story or words of wisdom. Despite being a book by someone running a high end restaurant, these additions make the book much more homely than it might be. For example, in talking about setting point, rather than taking a high brow approach, he explains how "the saucers method" (the one where you put 2 saucers in the freezer, then put a dollop of jam on the cold plate and see if it crinkles when you push it) - the one preferred by his mother - is the best one by far. The fact that the saucer method makes me panic, and I have long since resorted to the jam thermometre method is by the by - I like that he chooses the method that works for him, even though it is the most low tech.

On occasion, it can seem as if there is not enough information - and this is borne out by the fact that there do appear to be some ommissions - for example, although the duck pie recipe is in the book, the recipe refers to the mushy pea recipe on an undeclared page, and no amounf of rifling revealed itself to me. The grading system for recipe difficulty isn't applied to every recipe - which may or may not be an ommission. There are also quite a few obvious typos, but I guess I have a proof copy, and hopefully, these issues will be ironed out for the final print runs.

The book is presented fairly plainly - white pages, black writing, nothing fancy - but I quite like that and there are plenty of photos to keep me drooling and happy, even if I can't find the recipe for mushy peas.

Brioche - makes 1 loaf

"Rich buttery, yet it's light. Brilliant for breakfast, the best bread in France"
 In the bread section, there's a brioche recipe. I've been meaning to try brioche for some time now, and have been angling for a proper mould to make it in. The mould has not been forthcoming so far, but I decided that it was meant to be, and I have permission to share the recipe with you. Bear in mind that when I started out, in my return to baking fitness enthusiasm last night which saw me marzipan the Christmas Cake and also make a banana and blueberry loaf cake (about which more another time), it was quite late. so I changed the method a little, but I've just indicated that in brackets:

350g unbleached white bread flour (I use Dove's Farm)
tsp salt (I assumed 1 tsp)
25g fresh yeast (I didn't have fresh so used 10g dried)
60ml warm milk
3 large eggs
175g unsalted butter (this needs to be at room temp, or warmer if you have a cold room)
25g caster sugar

1 egg yolk
1 tsp milk

1. Seive the flour into a large bowl, melt the yeast in the warm milk, then pour into the flour, add the eggs and mix to a soft dough
2. Beat the dough for 3 to 5 minutes (I used a dough hook on the Kenwood), cream the butter and sugar together
3, Gradually add the butter to the dough in small amount
4,. Beat until smooth and elastic and leave to prove for an hour
5. Lightly knock back the dough and place in the fridge for an hour (at this point, I decided to leave mine overnight in the fridge, then this morning bought it back to room temperature before continuing)
6. Shape the brioche in a loaf tin or brioche mould if you have
7. Glaze the brioche with the egg yolk and milk mixture cover and leave for at least and hour or double the size
8. Preheat the oven to 230C/Gas 8 put the brioche in the oven then turn the temp to 190C/gas 5 and bake for 25-30 minutes
9. Turn out on to a rack and leave to cool

 

 

 

Rich, buttery, light? All of the above. And very good with home made strawberry jam.

 

 

 

 

I was provided a copy of the book "From Alsace to Yorkshire" for the purposes of providing the review. I was not paid and I was not required to provide a positive review. The opinions are my own!



Pure Vanilla by Shauna Sever - A Review

Pure Vanilla. More than just a recipe book, this celebrates the heritage and flavour of vanilla, with an interesting history of the vanilla bean from the Totonac Indians in Mexico who first discovered it to its use in the food and cosmetic industries today. It also includes a useful description of the different forms you can find vanilla in - pod, paste, extract - and 'tasting notes': I didn't know that there are different types of vanilla with different tastes and tones

I opened it up and read the introduction. I liked the style of the author, Shauna Sever, and having had a quick look at her blog, 'Piece of Cake' , I established that she was the sort of baker who would happily closet herself away with a cake and a spoon for company. In the blurb about the first actual recipe, she says "This...represents something I feel deeply about, that is to say, dessert disguised as breakfast". My kind of woman, I thought.

From breakfast (including a savoury recipe for bacon), we proceed through cake & pies and cookies & bars to candies & confections, custards & creams and finally drinks, including a vanilla mojito. I like vanilla and there are plenty of recipes that make me go "mmmm" from the title alone - Slow Cooked Vanilla Spiced Oatmeal, Cherry Vanilla Shortbread Cake Squares, Lemon Vanilla Dream bars, that mojito I mentioned - All good.

The book itself is very 'pretty' in a pale - I guess, 'vanilla' - type of way. Muted tones of cream, brown and blue. If you flick through it, there's not much that stands out to make you stick your finger in the pages and start to drool. so you do have to pay attention. There's also not as much photography as I'd like - you can go from page to tastefully designed pastel page with not so much as a doodle of a cake or a biscuit cookie. May be it's just me - but I do like to see what I'm aspiring to, but that's not the reason why I'm not leaping up and down with enthusiasm for this book.

No, not that. Here is the 'but' for me about this book: All the recipes are written in American measurements, and use the odd ingredient that doesn't fall easily into the shopping trolley in the UK. That's fair enough, the writer is American, but then the book doesn't have an easy conversion table for the measurements. Nor is there an explanation of the ingredients that might not be as familiar to the UK audience as they are in the US - such as corn syrup - and what a substitute might be. There is a conversion table in the back of the book, but it converts 'cups' and 'spoons' into a volume measurement. Call me picky, but I don't want to measure my butter in ml - I want it in grams, I'm afraid. I do have cups, but after a brief flirtation, I'm back to grams. And I have never been able to work out what a 'stick' of butter is. Even if the conversion table did the job I'd want it to do, flicking back and forward to the table is a little annoying in the first place. In Baked in America, probably my favourite American baking book so far, all the recipes have the ingredients in cups and grams, thus avoiding the need for flicking. It's a much more satisfactory way of approaching things. I'm sorry to say that this did put me off actually baking anything from the book at the weekend, when I had intended to.
 
If you can get over the recipe conversion issue - I'm sure I will at some point - and the lack of photos, it's a lovely book. There is a wealth of recipes to be explored, and fans of American baking won't be disappointed.  

If you're feeling like something a little less challenging to convert, rather than a whole cake or cookie recipe, the book has recipes to make vanilla extract and vanilla sugar, and I thought I'd share those here - they both have the potential to make good last minute Christmas presents for the foodie in your life (or, if that's you, then for your own purposes!)

Both these recipes and the photo are taken directly from the book, and I'm copying them with permission of the publisher.

Homemade Vanilla Sugar

Fill a lidded container with about 2 cups* of granulated sugar. Bury a vanilla bean** (or two, for more intense flavor), split lengthwise, in the sugar. Tighten the lid and shake the container like you’re competing in a dance contest at a dive bar. Store in a cool, dark place for 2 days and then open the container, take a deep whiff, and die a little from the glorious fragrance of homemade vanilla sugar, It’s that easy! You don’t even need a whole unscraped pod-use the empty scraped vanilla beans from recipes that call for just the caviar. Store the empty pods in the sugar; when your supply runs low, replenish by adding more fresh sugar on top.

Use vanilla sugar the same way you use the granulated stuff. It adds a bit more oomph to baked goods and is a delicious addition to coffee and tea. If you’re making vanilla-forward recipes like the ones in this book, vanilla sugar is yet another simple way to add that irresistibly ambrosial flavor.

To turn this recipe into a gift, pack the vanilla sugar in a decorative container-like a vintage Mason jar-topped with a scrap of fabric and festive ribbon. For an even fancier version, use raw turbinado*** sugar instead of granulated sugar.

Homemade Vanilla Extract
 
And it couldn’t be simpler. All you need is a clean jar or bottle with a tight-fitting lid, whole vanilla beans, and a clear neutral-tasting liquor (vodka is my top choice). For an 8-ounce**** jar, 2 split beans should do, but you can add more if you like. Let the sealed jar sit in a cool, dark place for about 2 months before using. I also add scraped seedpods to the extract jar after I’ve used them in recipes, unless they land in my container of Vanilla Sugar first. As you use the extract, top off the jar with more of the same type of liquor for a nearly never-ending supply.

Aside from being a great way to save money on a pricey ingredient, making your own extract is an excellent opportunity to use some of the more exotic flavors of whole beans in liquid form, since store-bought extracts rarely come in such varieties. Magical! You can also combine several different varieties of vanilla in one batch of extract, creating your own special blends. Few things make a more fabulous edible gift than homemade vanilla extract in a vintage bottle decorated with a darling handmade tag. Martha’s got nuthin’ on you. 

 *OK don't say I never do anything for you - 2 cups of sugar is about up to the 500ml mark on a measuring jug. **A vanilla bean is what I would call a pod, and ***'turbinado' sugar appears to be very similar to demerara, but has hints of honey****An 8ounce jar is, I believe, 250ml. 
 
I was asked to provide a review and received a copy of Pure Vanilla for the purposes of carrying out the review. I was not required to provide a positive review. The views expressed are my own

Where Food meets Fiction "The School of Essential Ingredients" - and White Cake

Looking back from this dreary October evening, as the rain lashes down outside, and I can barely face heading down the garden to shut the chickens in, it’s hard to think that actually we (the Recipe Junkie clan) had such a wonderful summer. And we did. One of the highlights of our family holiday when we pottered over to France was the amount of reading we all did. The kids read, the Husband read and I, luxury of luxuries, got to read, uninterrupted, sometimes for even an hour at a time.

One of the books that kept me rapt was one that my mum passed on, almost as an afterthought, but it was such a gorgeous read that I feel compelled to share it with you.

 

“The School of Essential Ingredients” by Erica Bauermeister is a gorgeously understated and beautiful tale of an unusual cookery school where there are, in fact, no essential ingredients – only the needs and desires of the pupils. Steered on their journeys of culinary discovery by the enigmatic Lillian, the participants, of course, learn more than how to cook – they learn self-esteem and confidence. They develop new relationships, overcome grief and heal old wounds. The story is gentle and undemanding, with an element of whimsical fairy tale to it but manages not to slip into sickliness. For me, Bauermeister has created a series of characters that, in the best Maeve Binchy tradition, I really cared about. I had a morning to remember while we were in France, sat with a cup of coffee overlooking the most wonderful beach in the company of the seabirds and this book....

I'll share the picture too, just so you get the idea...

Each chapter focuses on a different character, and Lillian seems to know instinctively which recipe or type of cooking will be appropriate for which character. Carl, attends the classes with his wife, Helen. His recipe is a White Cake – something I had never come across before. But lo, the joys of Google, many traditional recipes (traditional for the US, I guess) abound for a cake made simply with butter, sugar, flour, vanilla and eggs, the eggs separated so that the yolks are combined with the butter/sugar, the flour added alternately with some milk, and the egg whites are whisked and folded into the batter before baking. In the book, the method is not so much as a method, more a caress. The way the creation of the cake is woven into the story of Carl & Helen’s marriage, as seen from Carl’s point of view, is simply beautiful, using words that conjure up so much more than just cooking:

“Lillian put the butter into the bowl and turned on the mixer, the paddle beat its way into the soft yellow rectangles. 

Slowly in an impossibly thin waterfall of white, she let the sugar drift into the bowl.... The paddle continued its revolution around the bowl and the class watched... as the sugar met and mingled with the butter, each drawing color and texture from the other, expanding, softening lifting up the sides of the bowl in silken waves.”

Utterly delicious.

Well, you know me and cake... I wish I had had the patience to wait until the kids were tucked up in bed before embarking on my attempt, but it was not to be, so at the same time as making leek and potato soup withfish finger croutons (I know how to serve up a gourmet treat for my kids), I set to. I’d like to say that my attempt could have been described in such thrilling tones as Lillian’s but unfortunately, what with almost burning the fish fingers, and remembering that Pink had to be at ballet, it was a less soothing experience. I also had a dilemma because I only have one bowl for my Kenwood mixer, so ended up making the butter/sugar batter then scraping it into another bowl before whisking the egg whites. For all that, the cake seems pretty good, and I am quite pleased with what I have come up with, although I fear it may be a little sickly for my taste. As I was making it, I kept thinking "LEMON" but for the first go, at a white cake, I had to put those thoughts aside. I think it might need a few more attempts, so I’ll let you know once it’s perfect, but for now, I give you:

White Cake (with apologies to Lillian)

For the cake: 2 x 20cm loose bottomed cake tins, buttered and floured, bases lined; 120g unsalted butter, 200g +40g caster sugar, 2 large eggs, separated, 1 tsp vanilla extract, 120ml milk, 180g self raising flour, 2 tsp baking powder, pinch of salt, pinch cream of tartar

For the frosting: 120g soft unsalted butter, 200g cream cheese (at room temperature), 300g icing sugar, sifted, 1 tsp vanilla extract.

Pre-heat the oven to 180⁰C.

Sift together self raising flour, baking powder and salt. Beat the butter till soft then add 200g of sugar and beat again till light and fluffy. Add the egg yolks one at a time, beating after each addition, and then add the vanilla extract. Add the flour mixture alternately with the milk – beginning and ending with flour – flour, milk, flour, milk, flour. Set aside the batter. Beat the egg whites till they start to foam, add the pinch of cream of tartar, then beat till soft peak stage. Add in the remaining 40g of sugar then beat till stiff-ish peaks. Fold the egg whites into the batter, divide between the prepared tins, bang down to even the mixture out and bake in the oven for 20-25 minutes till a cake tester (whatever you use – I have a trusty skewer) comes out clean. 

Leave to cool in the tin for 10 minutes then remove from the tin and allow to cool properly before wrapping in clingfilm and popping in the freezer for an hour or so – this will help you spread the icing/frosting.

Make the frosting by creaming together the butter and cream cheese, then adding in the icing sugar a bit at a time beating well after each addition, and scraping down the sides of the bowl if necessary. Add in the vanilla extract and beat again till light and fluffy. Use to sandwich the cakes together, and then to spread over top and sides.

As well as my idea for the recipe, my Google surf advises me that there’s a new book out soon by the same author, called The Joy of Mixing, which picks up the stories of some of the characters. It’s on my wish list already.

I'm linking this up to a blog event I found via the Tinned Tomatoes Blog called Novel Food which aims to encourage people to create dishes inspired by books they have read. Well I was definitely inspired by this book, and there's more where that came from - I am seriously thinking along the lines of Antonia and Isabelles' stuffed turkey breast with rosemary, cranberry and pancetta for a certain feast coming up in a couple of months' time...

My 'Summer' Reading List

When I was much younger than I am now I was tortured interviewed for 2 days to be selected onto a civil service training programme. This consisted of a series of written and group exercises and 3 one to one interviews with variously a senior civil servant, a lawyer (the programme I was applying for included my solicitor ‘training contract) and a psychologist (yes, really). The application form had required me, among other things, to list some books that I had read recently. The senior civil servant commented during my interview with her that I “...read a lot of modern fiction.” This was news to me – I just read books. Still amazed that my reading could be categorised as such (‘modern fiction’ sounded a bit highbrow), she asked me how I chose a book. Without thinking I launched off into a rhapsody about the joy of standing in a book shop and of the ‘book smell’. Of how some books were easier to stroke than others, and finally, by way of example, of how I had chosen The Shipping News because the title reminded me of the Shipping Forecast, that most British of institutions (Cromarty, Forties, Fastnet, Dogger...) which always reminds me of returning to England from abroad.

Plus, the cover had been particularly strokable.

It may worry you to learn that I was accepted onto the programme.

Concerns about the state of the Civil Service’s recruitment methods aside, hopefully, you will have understood that whatever my merits as a candidate to be a government lawyer, I love books. They thrill me. To me, it is one of those true luxuries, to mooch round a book shop and browse, unchecked, reading blurbs, flicking through the pages, stroking covers (Ok so may be that’s a little strange) seeing if there are any recommendations to read – I love it when book shops include staff reviews of the books on the shelves.

When I got an email on Wednesday to say that I had been selected by Idealo.co.uk to receive £25 of books provided I created an Amazon wish list sharing my summer reading list, and blogged about my choices, I couldn’t believe my luck. While I read every day, it is rare these days that I have free reign to choose my books. I am in a book club, so that accounts for one book a month (granted, we take it in turns to choose, so I get a choice every year or so). The other main source of books is my mum, who keeps me supplied with a stream of books that she has already read and thinks I might enjoy. On the rare occasions that I don’t have a fiction book or 2 on the go, I will select something from the recently returned shelf in our small but perfectly formed village library.

But there it was – an invitation to choose books up to the value of £25. Any books I liked. As a summer reading list.  I hurried to Amazon, but it’s been so long since I have browsed in a book shop, that I found it hard to know where to start. And, typically, all those titles that I had stashed in my brain from the occasional flick through the books section of the weekend papers had abandoned me, so I had to formulate a plan to get to a bookshop.

So yesterday, I got up early and worked before the kids got up, and then, children deposited at school and dog walked, I made a dash for town. It was blissful. All those lovely, lovely stories waiting to be read. I flicked and stroked my way around the store for a happy 30 minutes before dragging myself back home.

And so here they are, my summer reading list books:

The Cellist of Sarajevo - Steven Galloway

I am a real sucker for novels exploring the courage of the human spirit in times of adversity – particularly war. At one stage, I was completely and utterly obsessed with the WWI war poets, and alongside all the poetry, devoured many of the novels that used both World Wars as inspiration – Birdsong, Regeneration... The conflict in the former Yugoslavia fascinated me in the same way, and I can’t wait to read this.

Much as I'm looking forward to reading The Cellist..., I expect I shall need some light relief, so my next book is:

A Year in the Merde – Stephen Clarke

Ok so I enjoy reading all those ‘let’s buy a rundown place in Provence/Galicia/Tuscany and live off the olives we grow and our love for each other’ (my favourite is probably Driving Over Lemons), but having also lived in France for a year (as a student) and having spent several summers looking after French children, this instantly appealed to me.  I love France and have some wonderful French friends, but the whole cultural difference thing fascinates me, and I like a good laugh. The French ‘real work' environment is something that I haven’t experienced, but I’ve discussed it with my French friends extensively,  and I’m hoping that this book will be a funny and irreverent take on that.

Then the rest of my books are:

Notes from an Exhibition – Patrick Gale

think I may have read a Patrick Gale book previously, but I can’t remember. However, in a similar ‘Shipping News/Shipping Forecast’ moment, I picked this up because the title reminded me (for some reason) of another favourite book, Behind the Scenes at the Museum, by Kate Atkinson. Rather a spurious way to choose a novel, but I liked the cover picture and the story sounds like it will be interesting - about an artist with bi-polar disorder. I know that Gale is a good writer, so i'm looking forward to an absorbing read.

Tideline – Penny Hancock.

 A surprise choice this one. I hadn’t heard of this book (or the author) or seen it in the book shop but it was included as a suggestion by Amazon. I clicked on it by chance and was immediately sucked in by the favourable comparisons with Before I Go To Sleep by S J Watson and Into the Darkest Corner by Elizabeth Haynes, both fast paced domestic violence psychological thrillers that have kept me totally and utterly transfixed as I read them. Into the Darkest Corner, particularly saw me carrying the book round the house with me, reading it as I emptied the washing machine, cooked and did all the other mundane tasks. The reviews that I subsequently read also compared Tideline to The Collector by John Fowles which is one of my favourite books.

Jubilee –Shelly Harris

Well, inevitable really, what with everything that's been going on, I found myself drawn to the bunting on the cover. However, once I'd read the blurb, I knew this was one for the list  -  the main character was a small child in 1977, the Silver Jubilee. I was 5 then, and have memories of going to see the Queen when she came to Liverpool and of the street tea we had afterwards. I had a red white and blue dress, and I waved a flag. This book tells the story of the adult that the young boy has become and of the secret that threatens his life. It’s promising to be a book about how Britain has changed in the last 25 years, and explores racism, childhood relationships and hidden secrets.

Now, I can't wait for my books to arrive. It's paper all the way for me at the moment, but I have been thinking about an e-reader. If you are too, you could visit http://www.idealo.co.uk/cat/10672/ebook-readers.html and see what you think...

Still grumpy, even with the prospect of sunken cake for breakfast

I am in a bad mood. The Husband has gone to California on business and I have felt increasingly out of sorts all day. Tired (he got up at 5.30) and a bit fed up I guess. He’s not gone for long and goodness knows I’m used to longer from when he was out defending the realm, but I’m out of practice because he hasn’t really been away since Christmas.

So, the bad mood has pervaded my day. Nothing specific, just grumpy. By the time I picked up the kids from school, I was just about holding it together, but teetering on the edge. Fortunately I’d remembered to take the kids something to eat which meant I didn’t get a whinge from Pink (who never eats much of her lunch because it wastes too much of the ‘giggling and huddling in corners’ time so beloved of nearly 6yr old girls), but she’d hurt her foot and was clearly tired – and still 31/2 weeks of term left – so I took a deep breath and set off back down the hill homewards.

Blue decided to run off ahead – not much of a problem as he walks to school on his own in the morning already, but I had assumed that at a particular point in the journey I would see him ahead of me, and I couldn’t. Now, I have had 3 “I HAVE LOST MY CHILD” moments with Blue. Once, he managed to disappear in a car park outside the houses we were living in at the time. A second time, he ran off from Clarks in the shopping centre in Basingstoke (with a brand new pair of unpaid for shoes still on I might add) and didn’t get apprehended till he’d got as far as Marks & Spencer, almost 3 sides of a square – quite a lot of shops and people. The last time was at Harlow Carr Gardens near Harrogate, when he’d come out of the loos in the entrance area and disappeared. My father was supposed to have been keeping an eye on him. We didn’t know if he’d gone back in to the gardens or out onto the road. Fortunately he went in to the gardens, and was found after about 10 minutes. I can think of a few “longest 10 minutes of my life” and that was one of them. His disappearance this afternoon wasn’t quite in that league, but it added to my general grumpiness. However, as predicted he had just made it home quicker than I had anticipated. Be proud of me - I didn’t to lose it with him and instead managed the “I was scared – you need to tell me what you are going to do” speech, although I grant there may have been a touch of hysteria laced around the edges. Pink didn’t want to go to ballet, and the TV went on as soon as we got in.

Sunken (and now I come to think about it, slightly charred)
cake - enough to make anyone grumpy

I decided to take advantage and try to cheer myself up by baking a new cake – well, ‘oatmeal in a slice’. The real driver for this particular confection was the possibilities it presents for ‘cake for breakfast’. I gave the kids the usual “you can watch half an hour” and closeted myself in the kitchen. This is a recipe from Baked in America – my new cake porn – and I have been eyeing this recipe up for a few days. It calls for ‘applesauce’ for which I substituted the appelstroop I brought back from Holland. Also I had forgotten to get buttermilk in my last online shop so I had to make do with yoghurt cut with white vinegar. It’s a very easy and straightforward recipe, but dammit, it sank in the middle. Probably because I was reheating Saturday’s biryani in the oven for supper at the same time and kept opening and closing the oven door – but just because I know WHY it's sunk it doesn't make it any less distressing to look at. Tastes pretty good, though, and I reckon the kids will give it a go for breakfast, being as how it's full of oats and raisins - just like porridge really (come on - indulge me)

The kids watched more TV than they were supposed to – cue slightly more hysterical rant about being trusted (it’s only the TV for goodness sake – come on get a grip woman) – and then had to endure homework which is mainly consisting of paperwork to support Blue’s sarcophagus building project. The outline paperwork was supposed to be up on the school’s website over half term but it wasn’t, so we made a start on the sarcophagus anyway (with thanks to a Boden shoebox) and now have to recreate some back up nonsense about planning and evaluating. Drives me insane.

We made it through to bedtime though, with only one all out hysterical rant about how mummy was tired and it really wouldn’t be a good idea to have a bath tonight and just get into your PJs, do your teeth and there will be time for stories.

Thank God for story time. That’s all I can say. Pink forwent (is that a word? Spell check seems to think so) the Secret Garden (Mary Lennox has just met Colin Craven – I am LOVING reading it to her) in favour of one of her fall back favourite picture books (‘Pond Goose’ about a goose who wants to be part of the gaggle) and Blue chose Emil and the 3 Twins, by Eric Kastner – a follow up to Emil and the Detectives which, if you haven’t read it, is a total must for the kind of 8-10 age range. I totally loved it – proper ripping yarns stuff, for all that it’s very old fashioned and set in Germany. Nothing better than cuddling up with the kids and having a story and a cuddle.

Am still annoyed about the cake though. Not even story time could fix that. And the time difference between here and California means it’s going to be tricky for me to talk to the Husband – which may be a good thing anyway. Now, just need to log on to Sainsburys to top up my order - let’s keep fingers crossed that today isn’t a maintenance day on the website, shall we.

A damn good read

Does anyone remember the film ‘Malice’? It had Nicole Kidman and Alec Baldwin in it, I think, and they weren’t very nice in it, but I can’t remember why or to whom. The reason I remember it is that where I saw it as a student (20 years ago – eek), it was preceded by a ‘short’ film that is one of the scariest things I ever saw. Did anyone else see it? Basically, Joely Richardson gets a bit pissed and cops off with a ‘lovely guy’ and she wakes up the next day to find she’s locked in his flat. She’s pretty freaked out and even more so when she finds some photos of dead naked women in his desk. Clearly, she is going to die. Then there’s a phone call during the course of which she asks about the photos and he explains, perfectly reasonably (on the phone) that he’s a policeman and the pics are evidence. Phew. Then the next (and last) scene she’s obviously out of the flat and on the phone to the ‘lovely guy’, a couple of weeks later,  being embarrassed about thinking he was a sexual predator type of serial killer etc etc, cue film of the ‘lovely guy’ selling art and clearly being not a policeman – urgh - she’s going to die after all. If anything was going to put me off casual drunken sex, that was it.

The reason for telling you this is that I have spent the day sneaking around the house totally gripped by a book called ‘Into the Darkest Corner’ by Elizabeth Haynes, which is along the same lines. I just had to finish it. Thrillers are not normally my thing. I read most of the Dick Francis novels as a teenager, and have more recently ploughed my way through a number of Dan Browns, am not averse to the odd John Grisham, and totally loved the Millenium trilogy (Girl with the Dragon Tattoo etc), but it’s not my genre of choice. This is one of the great things about being in a book club and particularly the one I am in at the moment. We are quite a diverse group in terms of our literary tastes, and Into the Darkest Corner is one of the forthcoming books. A bit of a change from Suite Francaise by Irene Neremovsky, and Still Alice by Lisa Genova, both of which I’ve read recently, or The Choral Society, by Prue Leith (yes, really, cookery person Prue) and would recommend, but for totally different reasons.

 I reckon it took me 6 hours from cover to cover and was like watching an episode of Waking the Dead (uncovering what happened in the past from a point in the present, as the past then starts to wash into the present in an alarming and dangerous way) at the pace of an episode of Spooks. Two of my favourite programmes rolled into one. I should have made my excuses yesterday when I was crippled by hangover, and just stayed in bed to finish it. However, feeling guilty because I’d got drunk as a skunk on rose wine and crawled in at 1.00 a.m. on Friday night, I felt that I had to make the effort to function. Today, without hangover, and with little to trouble me other than the making of chocolate brownie pudding to go with lunch (and, let’s face it, that’s hardly ‘trouble’ is it), I caved in to the craving to read.

There were a couple of times I felt myself physically jump – and this is a book, for goodness sake. It was a good job that the temperature dropped and it started snowing so that we could justify a ‘movie afternoon’ with the kids (they get to watch Harry Potter, I get to read surreptitiously on the sofa), otherwise I would still be reading and nothing would have got done.

I do love it when I get a book that is so completely gripping that I simply can’t put it down. II remember the Da Vinci Code whoch, let's face it, is a load of old tripe when all's said and done, keeping me up until 3 in the morning to finish it while we were on our first proper holiday when Blue was about 7/8 months old. You'd think I'd have been desperate for sleep but the urge to read was too strong. It’s not just thrillers, though – The Bridges of Madison County had the same effect. I seem to remember it being passed round from housemate to housemate one weekend in our final year at Uni.

I’m not sure I could cope with another in the same vein, straight off, but I look at the list and see that Death Comes to Pemberley is there – PD James writes Jane Austen. I wonder what kind of death? I am intrigued. Maybe the latest Prue Leith that Allotment Junkie slipped me, wrapped in a sainsburys bag, in the manner that a school boy might pass a porn mag to a friend, will have to wait after all. Maybe I am becoming a Thriller Junkie...