cream cake

I knew it would not be long before i returned to the Queen of Baking: 

Nigella's Chocolate Expresso Cake 

150g dark chocolate

150g butter

6 eggs

250g caster sugar

1 teaspoon of vanilla extract

75g plain flour

5 teaspoons instant expresso powder

4 tablespoons Tia Maria

Melt the chocolate and butter together (I use the microwave, stirring every 15 seconds or so) and leave to cool slightly. 

Beat eggs, caster sugar and vanilla until thick and mousse-like and doubled (at least) in volume. 

Gently fold in flour (I used gluten-free, and you wouldn't know it from the outcome) and instant expresso powder and then the melted chocolate and butter. Pour in to a 23cm springform tin (buttered and lined) and bake at 180ºC for a mere 35 minutes until the top is just firm. Immediately pour over the Tia Maria and allow to cool totally before taking out of the tin. The centre will sink and dimple, but this is a good sign that the moist brownie texture is safe.

If you have the inclination, or the occasion, whip a little double cream with a slug of bailey's cream to serve alongside; rich, sweet with a hint of liqueur to heighten the hit of mocha. For a glamorous sight, pile the cream into the centre of the cake before slicing carefully. 

He straddles me, moving upwards from my toes with a certain intent (i believed) but my breasts distract him, so i squeeze and he pushes; a minute later and he is wiping wet warmth off my ear lobe and i am gazing with awe at the sticky lake coating my decolletage.

"I've been wanting to do that ever since i met you" he says.

I'm tickled pink at the thought of him so gentlemanly and proper on our first date yet quietly imagining how he might slather me in his whipped cream.

where in the world?

Never knowingly smut-free. 

We bought a family ticket, and made plans to return without qualm. It is almost normal. 

getting to know you

"I think I might" he says and i know he will, just from watching the tell-tale tremor in the curve of his belly.

whenever

Getting ready for the weekend is still a thrill, even tho' i am bleeding. He has always been cautious about this time of the month, respectful and tentative. I want to be flamboyant and dirty, but will be content to be expressive with my favourite lube. I shall tell him that the spasms are soothing, practically medicinal, and he won't mind my greed. 

not spring

The bridge at Kew Gardens.

We stood over the dark water and nibbled on salty chocolate. It is strange not to have the children with me, i think of them (almost) all the time we are apart, imagining them skipping ahead of us. Squabbling. Eating all the chocolate. They would have enjoyed watching the teenage swan stomp all over the coots, rubbery feet pining down indignant, wriggling bodies in the dash for treats.

We held hands (almost) all the day long.

Supper for one, with spices. 

Mustard seed, cumin, coriander & cayenne.

A little onion, cooked to sweetness.

A fillet of salmon.

A cup of cooked peas. 

It doesn't take long. 

if i am giving

the impression that all is peaceful and settled here, don't be mistaken. Reality is more akin to a truck hurtling towards the precipice, and i'm trying to steer with my chin.

on the bone

After the children had been put to bed we returned to the small, squidgy sofa to watch more Disney, with plates of crackers and blue cheese, glasses of Shiraz balanced on toy boxes. During a particularly moving scene I smeared a knob of butter over his pyjama-ed thigh. I had better take these off, he said slyly, I wouldn't want to butter your bedsheets later.

I had a shoulder of pork in the freezer, and an inclination for potent crackling.

I began with a rub of 5 garlic cloves, 3 inches of grated ginger root, 2 teaspoons of coriander seeds, plenty of black pepper and 4 tablespoons olive oil, blended together furiously. The piece of pork was slathered in the paste and left overnight to breathe in the aromas. Cooked gently for about 4 hours the following day, with a half an hour of serious heat to start the crackle, and a little more blast at the end of the cooking time until the edges blacken and singe and the meat falls away from the bone under the pressure of a fork.

The idea for the asian-style rub came from Ruth Watson's Something for the weekend, a recipe book that I have occasionally enjoyed, as opposed to the majority of my cookery books which i have barely looked at, and the favourites, which i constantly have at hand. My shelves sag with the weight of culinary hopefulness; i need this blog to remind me of the nuggets, otherwise i suffer the pangs of knowing a flavour, but not being able to recreate it.

I also followed Ruth's suggestion of red-hot sweet potato gratin. I recommend it thoroughly, but only alongside a gym membership.

Flipping through the pages to find the recipe again to repeat for this post i found 'well-buggered lamb' on page 66, which must surely be the reason i bought the book in the first instance.

sunday scenery

My local piece of the Thames. I'm still giddy with excitement at seeing blue sky, although the sun has the strength of a new kitten.

It's not glamorous being my boyfriend. There is always a dishwasher to fill, or a child to pacify. Last night we all watched disney on the tiny, saggy playroom sofa among the boxes of matchbox cars and plastic dinosaurs. It is not something we ever did with their father.

instant soup

My new favourite cookbook Kitchenella is unashamedly written for woman and appeals to me hugely; simple recipes with a gallic twist, sophisticated family food that appeals to both sides of the table, written always with an eye to economy but with style. 

Broccoli Broth from Rose Prince's Kitchenella

Quick, light and soothing with so much green that you can't help but feel angelic. This was more than enough for my lonely supper; a huge bowlful (it doesn't keep). 

50g butter

1 onion, chopped

450g freshest broccoli, chopped

1 litre boiling water

salt & white pepper

Melt the butter in a pan, add the onion. Cook for a couple of minutes and add the water. 

Make sure you are ready to eat .. and cook the broccoli for 4 minutes. Liquidise until smooth, season.

I added a poached egg and a spoonful of greek yoghurt to my bowlful, with 2 slices of toast on the side. What more could i want? 

 

going places

His cock fidgets between the tight fit of our bodies as we slumber together in the warmth of morning glimmer. I imagine, through a lazy dream, how much more it will be agitated by this evening.

*

It is a truth, isn't it, that the more i reveal of my identity the less i can share.

It is not so much that i worry about strange 'net people; i haven't once regretted the intimacy spawned here in the past. I do, however, worry about hurting him. Maybe that is why i'm not writing as i used to, or perhaps i haven't yet conquered the trauma of writing as the sexually dominant.

Christmas, in brief.

Next: My christmas, in briefs. 

Still wearing hats and gloves inside while the heating struggles to revive the house. Fish belly up but may be sleeping #hopeful

30 Dec  

Found cine film of 35 years ago, me with long brown legs and long dead relatives

29 Dec 

In a house with 14 people and yet very peaceful. Wifi is working hard.

28 Dec 

All 14 of us at the beach hut and the blue sky appears

28 Dec 

Am being read to in bed. I now know all there is to know about Ham Solo and the droid wars

28 Dec 

Sharing my bed with a six year old. These small bodies make lots of heat.

27 Dec  

turkey and chestnut stuffing sandwiches. Still confined to indoors but i'm not objecting.

26 Dec 

Oh, and some bondage rope. I forgive him for the iron.

25 Dec 

my bf gave me an iron for christmas. AN IRON.

25 Dec 

had no breakfast and a bottle of bubbles. damn.

25 Dec 

drunk in charge of a turkey baster

25 Dec 

the bird is resting. Cherishing the cherished feeling. Love to all tweeps x

25 Dec 

merry christmas everyone, and THANK YOU xx

25 Dec 

it is such a privilege to be santa for my children. I just hope they don't wake especially early.

24 Dec 

"be careful when opening your present in front of your mother. It is from Coco de mer"

24 Dec 

what a girl loves to hear on christmas eve: "be careful, he says .."

24 Dec 

Wrapped up in front of a roaring fire. Where's my bf when I need someone to take advantage?

24 Dec 

Breakfast time, with gluten free black pudding *leaps out of bed with glee*

24 Dec 

Unpacked turkey and found 4 packs of gluten free black pudding nestled among breast and thigh. Thank you bro

23 Dec 

Discussing whether Santa and tooth fairy might go to the pub, if their paths crossed tomorrow

23 Dec 

Snacking on Macarons Parisiens and maccers coffee, in traffic, in snow

23 Dec 

Half my house in my car

23 Dec 

a small boy eat my breakfast #poachedeggenvy

23 Dec 

Lelo Gigi and her naughty little sister are locked and packed deep among socks.

23 Dec 

There is a 22lb turkey sitting on a garden chair in my garage.

23 Dec 

The last few minutes in my bed well spent, not returning here until the new year.

23 Dec