Eating an orange as it comes is something I do not enjoy. Peeling it and eating it makes such a mess and there’s pith everywhere; slicing it into segments and chewing the orange flesh from the skin isn’t particularly pleasant either. However, slicing it and adding to desserts or using the juice is something that I think it worth the time. Nothing beats properly fresh orange juice. A nice glass of Saint Clements breakfast juice was on the cards with my latest delivery of oranges; a fantastically zingy way to start the day.
I absolutely love blood oranges for several reasons: firstly they are just so pretty it’s hard not to like them, secondly as they are in season in January they are a welcome citrusy start to the year and thirdly I love squeezing a big bowl full to make my own pink juice. I wanted to make something to show off blood oranges at their best and I’ve fancied my hand at a tart au citron for a while. So I thought a sort of blood orange tart (or tart au blood orange) topped with caramelised blood oranges would be pretty tasty.
You know when the nights start to get dark earlier, it’s a bit colder than it was before and people start sneezing (not due to hayfever) that you just want to be on holiday? I have a significant desire to be on a beach from November to February; unfortunately it’s not a practical option. So, to make the best of it I surround myself with fruit. The more tropical and bright the better but there’s only so many pineapples one person can eat. I was delivered some beautiful green clementines with my recent veg box and they deserved to have a bit of a fuss made of them: a lovely bright green clementine fruit salad with a mint and vanilla syrup.
You will need (per glass):
- Blood Tonic
- Hot water
- 1 small orange
With the exception of water (and even then maybe not) people are very particular about how they like their beverages; strong, hot, milk in after and many other variations can enhance or upset our enjoyment of a drink. When it comes to making this concoction it is all about how strong you like it. For this unbelievably simple drink just dilute the Blood Tonic with hot water, squeeze in a little orange juice and then top with a slice of orange.
A new house and a new kitchen, a tricky transition I find. What will the oven be like; a brute or a wimp? It turns out the oven is a pretty good one although I am yet to bake a cake and discover its true character. We have managed to save enough space to have a pantry; something I’ve always wanted. There are a few boxes yet to be unpacked and a few more bits of furniture to be put in place but progress has been good. So, with all the unpacking, swearing, cleaning and tidying there had to be time for a beautiful breakfast.
There have been many times where I’ve fancied something in particular and invariably I never have what I need to fulfil my requirements. But this time I did. I was having one of those days where I just needed a bit of warm cake; a spontaneous bake if you will. It was also one of those days where a plain sponge just wouldn’t do; I wanted some spice in my life and so this orange and caraway cake was born.
I was one of those children who would pick out the sourest, most mouth puckering and sharpest of sweets. Sherbert wasn’t quite tart enough for me and so rhubarb and custard sweets were my saviour when all the sour apple ones had gone. They soon became my favourite; when you were turning the sweet over in your mouth you never knew if you were going to get a burst of sour or a shot of sweet. Although I do enjoy one of these sweets occasionally I have moved on to a more grown up version.
This is the very first of the English forced rhubarb I could get my hands on. It was nestled amongst a load of potatoes, swedes and cabbages; poking its pink feet out asking to be picked up. Admittedly my first thought was crumble but on my travels I walked past a sweet shop and my thoughts turned to rhubarb and custard.