Rhubarb vice

I have become addicted to chutney. Rhubarb chutney. It's a sad state of affairs when that becomes your major vice, isn't it?

I blame the weather. Although I have a rather smashing balcony overlooking the back lane, it's too damp and cold to be sat out there sipping exotic drinks with cocktail umbrellas, so that kind of rules that one out. There's also not much call for wafting about in long flowery summer dresses and elegant strappy sandals while brandishing secateurs in the garden (a la every young lady in a Miss Marple drama).

Neither will I be spending hours in front of the goggle box, due to the fact that as it's summer there's absolutely nowt on the telly. The cinema listings aren't up to much if you're not into superheroes (although, I have to admit, I'm rather liking Heroes now we're finally getting round to watching series one on DVD), and most concerts/gigs are Proms in the Park type stuff involving horrendous amounts of money to sit around in the rain wearing bin bags.

It really is make chutney or read a book, isn't it? Chutney's winning at the moment, probably on sheer novelty value.

The antidote to conference food

I should point out that I wasn't in charge of decoration.

Cake!

Spicy banana and sultana loaf, to be precise. Slightly adapted from a recipe in the Somerfield Magazine (not hip, I grant you. But free. And therefore far better than your Olive, Delicious et al. £3.20? Pah.).

Smug

I like that word. And the way it feels. Especially when you think you can legitimately have a quiet bit of smugness for five or six minutes. I reckon that today I've cracked it, given that I've

• made cheese, leek and potato pies for tea
• done 8 months-worth of filing which had been hiding under the bed (why on earth do I have SO MANY PIECES OF PAPER???)
• finally got round to dyeing my hair blonde again (boy, those roots were bad)
• and read 'Hippos Go Berserk' and 'Dear Zoo' about 97 times (can you tell we're on an animal-fixation at the moment?)

Mind, I haven't managed to clean the kitchen floor, but you can't have everything. And anyway, that's just too frighteningly domestic, and making pie is Nigella-ish enough for one day.

Sew sew

Am feeling rather pleased with myself today - as well as actually making pie for tea (bacon, leek, cheese and potato, since you ask), I have finally finished a cushion! Yes, I know it's a small achievement in the grand scheme of things, but trust me, when the other highlight of your week has been a trip to the rather dull and smelly Pets' Corner in Jesmond Dene, then a fully finished cushion is not to be sniffed at. Anyway, here it is in all its glory.





I had to get my great-great-great aunt's Singer sewing machine out of retirement for this project, which was entertaining in itself, as it weighs about as much as a small elephant. But it does have very comprehensive instructions (printed 1930), which with many "shewns" and "theretos" allowed me to actually thread the damn thing up and sew a straight(ish) line. Not sure I could manage anything a great deal more complicated (the last time I did a proper bit of sewing was probably age 12 at school, when I made a rather pink, floral-sprigged nightdress), and usually I head straight for the wonderweb stuff that you iron on if I have to hem anything. But I found this fabric in the charity shop (its previous existence was as a tablecloth, apparently), and couldn't resist. One down, another one to go...whereupon the cat will probably throw up all over them, and I'll have to start again.

Lady Marmalade

Or 'six-jars' Rach, as they will shortly be calling me. Yes, it's that time of year again, where those of us of the marmalade persuasion go in search of Seville oranges, preserving sugar and huge oven gloves to avoid being splashed when pouring the liquid inferno (can infernos be liquid, or technically should they be gaseous? Some kind scientist please reply) into ridiculously small-necked jam jars.

Anyway, I did it, and emerged unscathed. Although the oven gloves took a severe beating. Thanks go to the lovely Nigella for a tip top recipe (check out the photo on her homepage, and tell me that success isn't going to her head...).

Coffee cash

OK, so I've been a bit busy, and haven't got round to posting. But to make up for it, here's a photo of R's birthday cake which M and I made this afternoon...classic Vicky sponge, with a raspberry jam layer in the middle. There would have been cream, but there was none in the fridge, and as it was (a) blowing a gale and (b) freezing cold I couldn't be bothered to walk all the way to the shops. And check out the glass stand action - Nanna's cakestand is getting its first airing of 2007. Now what I really need is one of those glass domes that sits on top to stop the cake drying out...


So what have I been up to? Well, mostly eBaying...I've been bitten with the bug. My target at the moment is to earn enough from selling stuff (things we found when we moved that we no longer needed) to buy myself a proper Gaggia coffee machine. But it's addictive - I keep logging on to see how many people are watching or bidding on my items. So far they seem to be going down well...and I'm becoming well-known at the local post office (if only as "that irritating woman who insists on using her switch card for trivial amounts of money because she never has any cash on her"). I reckon £150 should do it - maybe by Christmas?

Oof.

Too much christmas cake, and too many mince pies does not a happy me make. I think I might need a quiet lie-down somewhere, while I contemplate the meaning of laundry, life and why exactly I thought it was a good idea to mix champagne, red wine and dessert wine last night...

Can't see the wood for the trees

Next year, when I blithely say I'll make all my Christmas cards, somebody please remember and shoot me. 60-odd later, I've had enough of folksy-Scandi style and have progressed to Habitat-chic. I reckon that at my hourly rate, each card is costing me about a fiver...

Arts corner - tv cookery

At the time it made sense to watch some cooking while I was eating my tea. Yes, I know it's uncouth and leads to rack and ruin, but I was on my own and couldn't be bothered to sit in state in the dining room. Anyway, I'd completely forgotten how annoying Nigella Lawson can be. While I think she's a brilliant food writer, and I have several of her cookery books (How to be a Domestic Goddess is my baking bible), she doesn't half bug me when she's on the telly. I started to watch her Christmas Kitchen earlier on, but had to turn it off halfway through. It's all this pouting, swinging her hair about and delving into cream that gets me. She's just turned into a caricature. Mind, some of the others are no better (stand up Jamie Oliver, Gordon Ramsay et al). I suspect that once you've made it on the telly, the mannerisms/enthusiasms that made you famous become ever more exaggerated, in a desperate attempt to keep/increase the numbers of viewers. There's only really ever been Delia, whose presentation skills seemed to be non-existant, who stayed the same.

So I've had it with tv cookery for the moment. What I really need is a bit of Julia Child.

Pies (mince)

Here are the fabled pies that M and I made last week. They look quite fancy, don't they? There were a lot more of them originally. And no, I haven't eaten them all.

Buns (2)

No not that kind. Unless they are gorgeous George's. No, more bun cases, this time from the lovely Rice. I saw these at the Baltic Centre for Contemporary Art, and was smitten. It was a bit odd finding bakeware in the gallery's shop in amongst all the modern art books, but maybe I should get some and be an urban trendsetter.

Tea and buns

Carrying on the subject of domestic-ness (as always seems to be the case round here), here's some rather fantastic bun cases. You can't go far wrong with a fairy cake, that's what I reckon. And all the better if they're dolled up in spots, stripes or even Black Watch Tartan (thanks to the lovely Vic for finding these, by the way). Although I suppose it should really be mince pies, given that it's December. I've not got round to making any yet, although my Delia mincemeat is sitting in the pantry ready and waiting. Pictures to follow when I do.

I realise that my baking exploits probably aren't wildly exciting, but there's a limit to how much excitement you can squeeze out of suburban life. I keep trying to kid myself that we're still living in the city, but once the Avon lady and the Betterware catalogue man have been round I know there's no hope.

Seasons greetings

Not content with attempting to do the domestic goddess-thingy food-wise, I've taken it upon myself to make some Christmas cards. It's December 4, and I've just begun. No pressure, then.

Above, you'll see a sneak preview of this year's card. As the design afficionados among you will obviously guess, it's a Scandinavian theme (which may have something to do with the fact that the wrapping paper I'm using came from IKEA last year) using the traditional four-year-old's drawing of a Christmas tree that seems to be my default setting. I expect the orders to come rolling in at any moment...

Actually, it's rather satisfying cutting and sticking, and takes me back to being about six and making scrapbooks on that weird coloured paper. Did anyone else save sweet wrappers and cut pictures out of the Mothercare catalogue, or was that just me?