Cornflower

Stuff and nonsense

    Having written most enthusiastically here about Harris Tweed (posts 1, 2 and 3) I couldn't let the somewhat crass, shortsighted remarks of Scottish politician Roseanna Cunningham pass without comment. This article will tell you what she had to say on the subject of wearing tweed, but pay no attention, people - wear your tweed with style and pride!

Guilty pleasures

     Mr. C. is writing about guilty pleasures in a bookish sense over at C.B. today, so I thought I'd adopt the theme here and ask what your non-literary ones are.

    My confessions first. I have a weakness for an occasional breakfast in bed with good book to hand, though I rarely linger long after eating unless the book is exceptionally gripping.

    I do like a mug of special hot chocolate*, preferably sipped - as on freezing Saturday evening - in front of a roaring log fire while watching Gracie or the like on television.

   And a final indulgence: cashmere bed socks!!

   How about you?

*3 oz. very good dark chocolate, 6 fl. oz. milk, 1 tblsp. double cream, brandy (optional).

Melt the chocolate gently, either on the Aga warming plate or in a double boiler. Heat the milk until hot but well below boiling point. Pour the milk slowly over the melted chocolate while beating vigorously with a wire whisk. Return to the heat for a few moments then transfer to a mug (ideally pre-warmed). At this point, bearing in mind Julia Child's dictum that a little cognac never hurt anything, add a splash of your favourite tipple. Put a tablespoon (rounded side up) into the chocolate so that half of it is below the surface, and pour the cream over it for a full and even distribution!

Cornflower Book Group 2010: Volume 1

     "It was a small, almost insignificant fire, the smouldering consequence of wiring overdue for replacement a decade earlier; an irritating addition to the maintenance team's job-list rather than a major item of college news. But when the carpenters came to remove a small section of charred oak panelling they were confronted by an image that would change the history of Kineton and Dacre College."

If you'd like to read on, please come and join us!

All done!

Phew!

Knitting against the clock - 3

     At the risk of boring everyone - myself included - here is yet another post about this week's scarf knitting exploits. Two down, one to go, and as you can see, I've cast on and am heading for the finish this evening!

 

    Three scarves in three days, and stiff neck aside, it's do-able, even with other commitments and the occasional need for sleep or food!

     It's all for charity, though, so worth the effort, but I'll be glad when the 'violet fondant' one joins its fellows ....

Knitting against the clock - 2

     6" x 36", under 24 hours from cast on to cast off, blocked and ready to go. Another Airy Scarf from Last-minute Knitted Gifts (but using two shades of KSH).

With that one done, I've cast on a second - must be mad!

 Another word about p/hop, though. As you'll see on the site, it's all about "pennies per hour of pleasure": making a donation to MSF to represent the hours of pleasure you'll get from knitting the patterns available to download. For example, you'll find Jane's lovely Cranford Mitts there (a Cornflower favourite three times last year - red/grey, grey/red, and these) and lots more good things besides. In addition, everyone who makes a donation will be entered into a draw to win a year of yarn from Natalie!

A p/hop, skip and a jump

     I'm still knitting against the clock (three hours to go and a thousand other things to do besides) but in fact I should be finished in little more than a p/hop, skip and a jump. What's p/hop? Just pop over here to find out, and then go and see what I'm knitting!

Knitting against the clock

     To augment the goods for sale at a fundraising event I've undertaken to knit something against the clock. I'm not a fast knitter, having neither a speedy technique nor much time to devote to it in an average week, so I'll be pushed to finish, but thought I'd have a go anyway (progress pictures when the light permits).

 

    In hazarding a guess at how long my project would take me from start to finish, I remembered this amazing story of true knitting speed and prowess! Staggering, isn't it?

How about you - are you fast if you have to be, or do even small, straightforward items tend to stay on the needles for months?

Toasting

     "It is impossible not to love someone who makes toast for you. People's failings, even major ones such as when they make you wear short trousers to school, fall into insignificance as your teeth break through the rough, toasted crust and sink into the doughy cushion of white bread underneath. Once the warm, salty butter has hit your tongue, you are smitten. Putty in their hands."

From Toast: the story of a boy's hunger by Nigel Slater.

     "In 1782 Carl-Philip Moritz, a German visitor to London, enthused that '...there is a way of roasting slices of buttered bread before the fire which is incomparable. One slice after another is taken and held to the fire with a fork until the butter is melted, then the following one will be always laid upon it so that the butter soaks through the whole pile of slices. This is called 'toast'.'" 

From Taste: The Story of Britain through its Cooking by Kate Colquhoun.

    "Milk Toast for the Ill, Weak, Old, Very Young, or Weary... The basis for the whole is toasted bread soaked in warm milk. The sweet butter, the seasoning, the cream and the milk - these are sops indeed to the sybarite in even the sickest of us. I have used this bland prescription more than once upon myself, recognising a flicker across my cheekbones, a humming near my elbows and my knees, that meant fatigue had crept too close to the fortress walls. I have found partaking of a warm bowl full of it, in an early bed after a long bath, a very wise medicine - and me but weary, not ill, weak, old, not very young!"

From The Art of Eating by M.F.K. Fisher. 

A sweet unrest

 
       I hardly ever go to the cinema, but on a sudden whim yesterday I went to see Bright Star, Jane Campion's film about the love affair of John Keats and Fanny Brawne. I'd go to it again like a shot.

     It is superb: visually very, very beautiful, scripted and filmed with subtlety and restraint, extremely well acted, and of course, terribly sad - but the emotional pitch is perfect, it is not sentimental. Do go and see it if you can.

    The marvellous costumes are on show at Keats House in London's Hampstead, and the film's title comes from this poem. You can see a short interview with Jane Campion here and another trailer here.

I ought to act on sudden whims more often if they are as successful as this one was!

The Marmon

    

     "[The car's engine] panted at us in the whiskey-and-emphysema whisper of an Edith Wharton dowager. 'Dollar-dollar-dollar-dollar-dollar,' the Marmon said."

From Crossing to Safety by Wallace Stegner. More on it here.

Books and cakes - 23

    Tomorrow on Cornflower Books, the CBG will be discussing Wallace Stegner's novel Crossing to Safety, so here is the cake to go with the book. This is not what I'd intended to make, but a happy alternative - as it has turned out - when the infelicitous results of my first choice meant it had to be abandoned!

    The book itself is a bit short on food - yes, there are various convivial gatherings including picnics in it, but the fare is mostly savoury, bar some Sara Lee cakes, and grilling enormous steaks on a New England hillside was not a practical option for me, sadly. As the story is largely set in Vermont, I thought maple syrup would have to be a key ingredient, and I started to make this tart but alas, my pastry went to pot, and I had to think again.

    So, ladies and gentlemen, I give you a Cornflower concoction: Chocolate, maple and pecan cake!

 

Grease and line a 23cm. baking tin (slightly smaller will do but adjust the cooking time). Pre-heat the oven to Gas 4/350/180 deg. (I baked mine on the rack on the floor of the Aga baking oven).

You will need 4oz. pecans plus extra for decoration, 7oz. butter, 4oz. caster sugar, 3 large eggs, 2oz. self-raising flour, 100 ml. maple syrup, 3oz. dark chocolate.

Grind the pecans in a food processor. Cream together 6oz. of the butter and the sugar. Beat the eggs and fold in along with the flour and the ground pecans. Melt the remaining 1oz. of butter with the chocolate and the maple syrup, stirring as you do so. Combine that with the sponge mixture and pour into the prepared tin. Decorate the top with pecan halves. Bake for 20-30 mins. until a skewer comes out clean.

 

You could serve this warm, with cream, as a pudding, or cold with coffee or tea. I'm very pleased with the way it has turned out, unlike the shrunken, somewhat blackened pastry from the abandoned tart (no pictures of that!).

Winter white

     I like the dull whites and greys of these dogwood berries backed by a drained winter sky.

     I could show you the shrub's festively red branches, but instead I'll point you towards Snapdragon's heart-shaped wreath (scroll down to her second picture).

     Then, if you haven't already discovered it, I suggest you pay a visit to Drawings from Nature and admire the beautiful, seasonal pictures there.

Recycling

    Following on from yesterday's talk of recycling pullovers, here's a very early Cornflower post (probably read by around three people at the time it appeared) which is partly about turning an old sweater into a bag. I followed the instructions given in an ancient copy of Country Living, and here they are for anyone who wants to have a go:

First, felt your woollen jumper by washing on a hot cycle. Turn it inside out and sew up both armholes. Use the bottom edge of the jumper as the bag opening and sew across the top of the garment under the neckline. Cut off the arms and excess from the neck area and turn the right way out. Line with satin. Turn an arm inside out and sew 3cm in from each side seam. Trim close to the seams and turn both tubes the right way out to form two handles. Cut to required length and hand sew them to the outside of the bag [I fixed mine to the inside, between bag and lining]. Add decorative detail such as beads or a brooch - I used some of the offcuts to make leaves/petals which I stitched on and embellished with french knots.

    This was fun to do and rather quicker than the other one in that post (second, chunkier version here) which was knitted from scratch and then felted (pattern in this book).

Unravelling

     A bit of a clear-out yesterday threw up an old (bought) sweater of Mr. C's. Made from a tweedy wool (yes, it's pure wool again!) it's showing its age both in terms of wear and tear and style. Although the picture makes it look grey, in fact its base colour is a very attractive dark mossy green, but that's the back and sleeves - the front is a sort of chequerboard of equally muted and toning colours, very à la mode in its day but not so great now.

    Once, ages ago, Mr. C. was wearing the jumper on a plane when the man sitting next to him exclaimed "that's my sweater you've got on!". It turned out he was the designer.

    But what to do with the old thing (that is the garment, not Mr. C.)? I have the urge to unravel it and use the wool to knit something else. What's more, I've found a tutorial to show me how to go about taking it apart (I love the bit about the little thread!). My husband, of course, thinks I'm mad, but we'll see.

    Also on knitting, I saw this picture of Ernest Shackleton in the paper and I noted his sweater. I can't decide whether the yoke is garter stitch or moss stitch, but it bears a resemblance to Jared Flood's Cobblestone Pullover, don't you think? And if knitting sweaters isn't enough for you, how about making some of these?