toffee apples for bonfire night (and fulfilling a childhood dream)

crunchy and sticky: toffee apples

As a small child I yearned for toffee apples; for their beautiful enticing shiny jewel-like colour and promise of sickly sweetness. But they were forbidden fruit as my mother refused to buy one for me. This was less because she was mean (hardly) but more that experience suggested that since toffee apples are very sticky, it might end with disaster.  My one and only experience of pink bubble-gum at the age of seven had left my long golden blonde hair in piles around my feet as my head was shaved . . . seriously, don’t ask!

These days, while still a little accident-prone, I decided to make a simple caramel and coated my apples in the vibrant toffee ready for tonight's bonfire party

where the wild things are . . .

Mrs Fox and her three cubs

The bottom of my garden is where the wild things live. I'd like to tell you that it's because I have created a wild garden to give the local fauna a bit of a feeding playground. In my heart of hearts, I really want to believe that that it might be hiding a few wild fairies too, but the truth is that I don't particularly like manicured gardens and I am something of a lazy gardener. 

so excited and just can't hide it . . .

I am so excited, though a bit nervous too, as I was asked by my local library if I would like to take part in their Adult Learners Week programme of events.

I adore libraries. I think they are one of the most fabulous of local resources. It is what makes us civilised! So on being asked to run a taster session on How to Start a Blog,  I could hardly say no. so I said yes. And while I am really excited I am also thinking yikes, what happens if no-one turns up?

intermission: ahem . . . your attention please!

Musical notation photo by Marja Flick-Buijs

Do you like to sing in the bath or shower? Do you warble while you work? Are you passionate about music? Would you like the thrill of singing in a lovely, local choir?

Vox Holloway, a community choir in north London, is starting rehearsals of The Prophet by Harvey Brough, based on the Khalil Gibran book. We are looking for new members.

Rehearsals start Tuesday 23 April, 7.30pm, St Luke's Church, Hillmarton Rd, N7. All are welcome, no auditions, no previous experience required!

a taste of tapas: small plates of something delicious

a selection of tapas

"I love anything that involves getting to eat seven different kinds of food in a single sitting"

So says the character Ellie Hatcher in Alafair Burke's City of Fear referring to her love of tapas. A woman of impeccable taste, I suspect.

To me tapas mean several things - simple food cooked really well; a myriad of gorgeous flavours; a gathering of friends - convivial and ever-so slightly bibulous; of Spanish holidays and the ultimate taste of summer. Tapas is the perfect food for hot summer days when traditional British stodge just won't cut it; when you want something that is full of profoundly Mediterranean flavours.

tip: making breadcrumbs

a simple loaf of white bread

I suppose I am lucky that I've always got a loaf "on the go". I make my own bread and if a loaf doesn't turn out so well then it is sacrificed to the altar of thrift. When life gives you a bread disaster, you make breadcrumbs! 

a feast from the (not-so) mysterious east (that's dalston not the levant) and there's a party going on in my mouth!

heathcliffe's splendiferous mezze

What is a feast?

• A festival of food
• A joyous, happy meal
• A sumptuous entertainment
• Something highly agreeable, which is partaken of, or shared in, with delight
• To gratify or delight (as in to feast your eyes or your soul)
• To treat at the table bountifully

happy birthday to me! (or why I love the pea)

My love of peas has been a constant in my life. I have often wondered if it is to do with things that happened on and around the day of my birth. It’s a long time ago, a distant memory but I was there, remember!

My pregnant mother had decided to have me at home - a home birth. Her GP, a fierce ex-miner called Dr Heathcote, had advised total bed-rest for the last month of her pregnancy. And as a woman who was full of energy this was always going to be difficult. A solution was reached. My father arranged to have a television installed in their bedroom in order that my tennis-obsessed mother could watch Wimbledon during the last weeks before spawning.

save (the) bumblebee . . . i hope it's not too late . . .

No, not that bumblebee although you should. This is actually me coming over a little bit NIMBY; I want you to help save a local and much-loved shop - Bumblebee on Brecknock Road in Kentish Town. Please, please, please help prevent a much-loved local shop being forced out of business; reject the application!

a tale in which I conquer a fear of pancakes!

I don't have a pancake phobia, but for some reason, illogical though you might think it, I had thought pancakes were difficult to make. They rather worried me. They involve batter and while I can usually make Yorkshire Puds, my Toad-in-the-Holes have been a bit dismal. But an article in a newspaper announced that 90% of Brits couldn't cook a pancake if their lives depended on it and laid down the gauntlet, challenging me to face my batter fears.

o frabjous day! calloo! callay!

She chortled in her joy . . . *

What, you may reasonably ask, am I on about? Quite simply I have managed to upload some digital photographs from my camera to my computer. Not in itself something that should be difficult but I was, as usual, flying a little blind.

should I issue an apology or just an S.O.S?

BBC Test Card c.1967

It seems that my life has been invaded by marauding Internet imps; the Luddite little blighters. Not only is my formatting all akimbo, but I cannot reply to any comments here at Marmaduke Scarlet nor can I comment on other blogs. Arrrgh (she says inarticulately, in frustration). So apologies and hopefully normal service will be resumed shortly.  

it wasn't my fault!

Old books - Marja Flick-Buijs

In the immortal words of  'Joliet' Jake Blues:

"I ran out of gas. I, I had a flat tyre. I didn't have enough money for cab fare. My tux didn't come back from the cleaners. An old friend came in from out of town. Someone stole my car. There was an earthquake. A terrible flood. Locusts. It wasn't my fault, I swear to God!"

And that is my excuse for not posting anything recently, and I am sticking to it.

watching the day break with Oscar

This morning has started early. Well, early for me anyway. It's not often that I can say I was up at 5.30am (well not unless I had stayed up all night, and those nights are firmly in my past). So it was with some surprise that I found myself in the kitchen at dawn, feeling wide awake.