The Homemade Heart

James and the Uffizi

Leaving the house at 5.30am last Monday, I was..

....excited (three days in Florence, two dear friends, tickets for a James Taylor concert.)

...a bit anxious (would everyone really be ok without me?)

...tired (I had spent the preceding days cooking, cleaning, ironing, organising, writing lists..)

...in a quiet state of disbelief that the trip was happening at all.

However, after all the dreaming, wishing, hoping and planning, here I was, leaving the boys still in bed, Derek waving me off sleepily at the door. I took a taxi through quiet, early morning streets to the ceaseless activity of the airport, and I was on my way.

Florence may have grey rainy days, and sleety days, and cold, miserable days, but not so the April days we spent there. The sky was azure; the river Arno flowing voluptuously through the city, lazily reflecting the light back onto the facades of riverside buildings, like a beautiful woman kissing her hand to innumerable, smitten admirers.

It was beautifully warm, and being able to wear just a linen dress and sandals, after a long Scottish winter of woollies and wellies, was bliss.

The centre of Florence is small, and easy to navigate. Every corner you turn there are beautiful things to see; buildings, churches, flowers, fountains, statues.

 
 
 

On Tuesday we visited the Uffizi Gallery in the morning, offset by a little retail therapy afterwards, a lingering lunch outdoors, followed by James Taylor concert in the evening. There are not many days so perfect in a lifetime.

The Uffizi Gallery was a revelation. I could have spent days there, impressing the paintings, colours, light and beauty on my inner eye, to be recalled at will. I have never studied art, and know nothing about the technical aspects, but to stand in front of paintings that I had seen in books and prints, and see the brush strokes, realise the vividness of the colours, the tender sweep of an eyelash, the detail of a foot, or a lock of hair, the light and shadow in the fold of a gown, was so absorbing, so rewarding, my soul soared.

 

Of course, we weren't the only people enjoying the Uffizi that morning, and a little patience was required to see some of the more famous works on display.

In the evening, James Taylor. This was hugely exciting for me, particularly as we realised when we arrived that the theatre was small, and that our seats were in row B. I do love James Taylor, and have seen him many times, but Florence was absolutely fantastic. James was as gracious and gentle as ever, the music was outstanding. Here he is singing 'You've Got  Friend' at the end, and yes, I was standing right in front of the stage (you might as well know the truth about me now, so you can decide if you want to abandon this blog for ever).

The next day was time to come home; sad to say goodbye to Florence, and to my friends; but so immensely happy to have been there. I have dreamed about being in Florence every night since my return, I hope the dreams are prophetic. The highlights? James and the Uffizi.

52 Across

52 Across; Florence. Clue in today's crossword. Coincidentally  where I am going next week, to see a dear friend, and to catch James Taylor in concert again.

Year in books: April

Once again joining Laura and her  Year In Books link up, which has introduced me to lots of excellent book recommendations, and lots of excellent bloggers who love to read. I strongly recommend you make yourself a nice cup of tea and go for a browse if you haven't visited before.

Last month I read 'Bellman and Black' by Diane Setterfield.

A young boy, William Bellman, throws a stone which kills a rook, almost by accident. His life ever after is monitored and (possibly) influenced by the clever, pitiless spirit of this ancient breed of bird.

The book is really a psychological study of William, whom we follow from childhood to death. He is an intelligent, highly motivated man, though a melancholy streak runs through him. After tragedy strikes his family, he turns the energy of grief into a business venture by building and running a huge department store, devoted to the accoutrements of mourning. Everything from full mourning garb to black edged correspondence cards is stocked, and he runs the business with an almost feverish energy.

He seems to have a business partner, the mysterious Mr Black, who exerts a significant and unnatural influence on William, though nobody else ever as much as catches a glimpse of him. William's life follows the same trajectory as the stone he aimed at the rook on that fateful day in his childhood, a steady rise, followed by an equally steady decline. As readers, we don't know if this is due to the malignant influence of Mr Black, the vengeful spirit of the rooks, or simply inherent weakness in William.

I greatly enjoyed this book, it was gripping, slightly creepy, and intriguing. I have already recommended it to several friends, and will be finding a place for it on my bookshelf, rather than dropping it discreetly into the bag destined for the charity shop.

This month I am going to read 'A Spool of Blue Thread' by Ann Tyler.

This is the story of Red and Abby Whitshank, and their family. As the blurb explains:

'Red and Abby are getting older, and decisions must be made about how best to look after them and their beloved family home'. A lengthy review here summarises the plot and gives measured praise to Anne Tyler's writing skills.

I chose this book partly because I have read and enjoyed many of her novels in the past, and my non-virtual book group is reading this book for our next meeting in May, so it seemed a good idea to keep things simple for Spring and have the same book for both groups.

Happy Easter

 

a ribbon can be added

At Easter, I like to make food gifts for family, friends and neighbours. This year I decided to make small Simnel cakes. At 4" in diameter, they are small enough to be cute (without venturing into dinky territory), and large enough to provide four or five respectable slices.

Presentation and transportability are important when giving food gifts. I save pretty glass jars from jams and jellies, tin trays from pre packaged meals, plastic tubs that held fruit, all of which can be pressed into service when giving gifts of baking or preserves. These can of course be bought from shops and many worthy websites, but I like to be resourceful, and cupboards full of empty jam jars and small cardboard trays waiting to be used bring me peculiar pleasure.

For the Simnel cakes, I first wrapped a small square of cling film round the bottom of the cakes, so that they could be carried without sticking to the fingers. I wrapped a collar of greaseproof paper round the cake, folded over and snipped at regular intervals to lend a festive air. This was secured at the back with a clean dressmakers pin. Over this, I wrapped a strip of bright tissue paper, holding it in place at the back until I whipped out the pin from the greaseproof paper, and re-pinned through both layers. Then a length of broad ribbon, followed by raffia or baker's string to finish off. Any cakes going a distance in the car will have a further loose enclosure of cling film, or cellophane. A ribbon can be added, and a small pretty label. ( I have found that lowering decorated cakes into cellophane bags is terribly difficult to manage neatly without damage to the cake, so now cut a square and sit the cake on top, bringing up the corners to a point, and securing).

Decorating Simnel cakes with a thick disc of marzipan and marzipan balls is easy. The cakes are traditionally placed under a hot grill to give the characteristic toasted look (or blow-torched of course), however I make life much easier for myself by brushing some Sugarflair paste concentrate in 'Chestnut' on the marzipan balls instead.

I used (marginally adapted) Jane Brocket's recipe  from 'Vintage Cakes, tremendously good cakes for sharing and giving'. Full of old fashioned, hard working cake recipes, this is a book I have turned to many times. I made double quantities, which gave me five x four inch cakes. Single quantities give one x eight inch cake. 

Ingredients.

500g marzipan

400g mixed dried fruit (raisins, sultanas, currants)

50g mixed peel

50g glace cherries, rinsed, drained and quartered

finely grated zest of one orange and one lemon

175g plain flour

1 level teaspoon baking powder

2 teaspoons mixed spice

175g butter at room temp

175g light soft brown sugar

4 L eggs

2 tablespoons apricot jam

icing sugar, for dusting

Method

Preheat oven to Gas 2

Roll out 400g of the marzipan on a surface dusted with icing sugar, and cut two 20cm discs, using your intended cake tin as a guide, pressing the top rim into the marzipan and cutting slightly inside the lines. Lay aside, wrapped in cling film. Keep any scraps wrapped in cling film and set aside.

Grease and line cake tin.

Place dried fruit and grated zest in a bowl.

Sift dry ingredients in a bowl.

Cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy using electric hand held whisk or stand mixer, until light coloured and fluffy.

Add the eggs and flour alternately until the mixture is thoroughly combined.

Tip in the dried fruit and zests, mixing by hand until thoroughly combined.

Spoon half the mixture into the prepared tin, then drop in one of the pre-cut discs of marzipan. Spoon the remaining mixture into the tin, and smooth with the back of a spoon.

Bake for 2-2 1/2 hours, until well risen. Bear in mind the marzipan layer will be soft and sticky when  sticking a skewer or cocktail stick in the cake to test for done-ness, so might give a misleading result. The top of the cake will be firm, and dark golden brown.

Place on a wire rack and allow to cool before turning out.

When the cake is completely cold, brush the top generously with the apricot jam, warmed slightly to help it spread. Cover with the second disc of marzipan, pinching the edges if liked, to give a crimped effect. Roll the remaining marzipan, and any scraps from making the discs, into eleven equal sized balls, placing one in the middle, and the rest evenly spaced round the cake. Brushing the undersides of the balls with a little water helps them stick. Grill very carefully, or blow torch very carefully, or brush with colouring as I do. Decorate with pretty ribbon.

The smell of spices, citrus, and cake wafting round the kitchen signal 'celebration' to me, and making fruit cakes, at Easter and Christmas is one of the great pleasures in life. Happy Easter.