Saturday 18th September
Day 150
Unlike my father, I’m not someone who sets out to break the rules. There is a culinary dictum, some would say papal, which states -
‘NEVER HAVE TWO PASTRY COURSES IN THE SAME MEAL.’
I’ve always adhered to this in my menu planning. Until tonight’s supper in the company of some delicious, precious young people, we tucked into TWO TARTS. The first was with a crisp, buttery pastry ( frozen, courtesy of Mr Sainsbury) puffed around melted layers of basil pesto, Gruyere cheese and tiger striped tomatoes - the last in the greenhouse. Closely followed by my husband’s favourite dessert - an upside down tart tatin - a fat disc of sweet short crust pastry topped with a mesh of sliced apples - from our tree - glazed in deep amber caramel scented with orange zezt. One tart to wave goodbye to summer the other to welcome in autumn.
Luckily no one notices the broken rule. I think I could break it again.
As the light fades we six re-connect, dovetailing our lives together in the candle light. Outside, surging across the fence in a draping tangled mass, the solarnum crispum of the deadly nightshade family, opens its clusters of white star flowers and drops perfume into the dusk. It feels like a blessing on our table that the Pope could never match.
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