Puff Puff

Last week's pear and almond tart was a triumph. A very hastily consumed triumph. And there was a little tub of leftover frangipane in the fridge crying out to be baked into something. Hanging around the kitchen was a flyer I picked up from the supermarket with a recipe for rough puff pastry. I've made lots of pastry before, but never puff. "It's Tuesday," I thought. "Let's try something new."

The kid was disappointed that there were no eggs to crack, but she was all over the pressing of the 'pulse' button on the food processor. She quickly turned the butter and flour into something resembling coarse bread crumbs, then added the ice-cold water as I gently kneaded, brought it together and began the rolling. Roll, fold, fold, turn. Roll, fold, fold, turn. Roll, fold, fold, turn.

And rest.

Roll, fold, fold, turn...

You get the picture.

The leftover frangipane was smeared onto the pastry, which we then topped with sliced apples and some frozen raspberries. And then - an egg to crack after all - we brushed the pastry border with some egg wash and popped the whole thing into a hot oven to hopefully puff puff puff.

And puff it did. It landed on the bench top looking like something out of a rustic French farmhouse kitchen. The pastry had a beautiful, crisp, delicate crumb which combined beautifully with the cakey, fruity topping. Just the thing for dessert with a scoop of vanilla ice-cream.

I wonder how wonderful the unrough version will be! We might try that next week and make this Try Something New Tuesday a habit.

Rough puff pastry recipe from here - it made the perfect quantity for one tart.

The frangipane is from the Bourke Street Bakery cookbook. I reckon this was about a third of the full recipe, so adjusted accordingly, beat 1/4 cup caster sugar and 60g butter until pale. Add one egg and beat well. Add 90g ground almonds and 20ml of grog - they say Grand Marnier, I used Cointreau. Or just leave that out if you like.

And I baked my tart for about half an hour, initially at 200 degrees Celsius, and then reduced to 170 after about 10 minutes so the apples could cook without the pastry burning.

Quick Change Trousers

Just when I thought that every baby pants pattern was the same...

I dipped into my supply of vintage pillowcases this week to make a couple of pairs of the famous Quick Change Trousers from this lovely book by Anna Maria Horner. They're reversible - so that's really four pairs of pants in the picture above. They're a fab fit, fun to make and just so cute on those little tushies. 

I'll shut up now and let the pictures do the talking.

Magnolia

May my future sprawling country garden have a grand magnolia as its centrepiece...

..countless fruit trees that burst into flower the minute winter lets her guard down...

..and great swathes of unruly jasmine to fill the air with the scent of my childhood for a few weeks a year.

Oh, and maybe another magnolia for good measure...

Bag/Tart

Hello, lovely new bag. Made by moi! Out of some Ikea upholstery fabric and a vintage sheet from the oppy. Using the Everything Tote pattern from 'Weekend Sewing' by Heather Ross.

It replaces the faded old khaki thing that I've been using as my baby bag for the past 17.5 months, which I received as a little bonus with the lovely Bourke Street Bakery cookbook a couple of birthdays ago. (Thank you, Garbageman.) It was designed, no doubt, to carry home one's semi-sour baguette and Sunday morning croissants, but I've been hauling around nappies and wipes and other babyphernalia instead.

And speaking of the Bourke Street Bakery cookbook...

We were invited to brunch last Sunday and grabbed a pear and almond tart from a little French patisserie on the way. Somewhere between pointing to it in the glass cabinet and handing over my 20 bucks, I thought, "I should have made this." When the oldest child, having enjoyed her slice, asked if we could bake one, the deal was sealed. And I turned to the oracle, my Bourke Street Bakery cookbook.

Before we could even get started, there was a trip to the land of all things exquisite and divine for vanilla beans. $34 worth - oops!

Then back home to begin work on the four elements - the sweet shortcrust pastry, the poached pears, the frangipane and the creme patissiere. That was day one out of the way.

Day two - this morning we set to work on assembling our tart. Pastry was rolled. Tins lined and blind-baked. Frangipane and creme patissiere gently folded together. Pears arranged like a glorious sunny-day daisy.

The result? Unbearably good. Far more rustic than the one purchased on the weekend, but tasting just like the BSB ones I've purchased far too many times.

As the Garbageman would say, yumbo yumbo.

Look! No Pattern!

 

I am nurturing, ever so softly and tentatively, a quiet desire to design my own knits. A few things stand in my way. There's so little time and so many other wonderful things I want to knit, it's hard to spend precious hours on potential failures. But more importantly, as far as design goes, I really haven't a clue.

So for a first effort, I'm pretty pleased with this little experiment in going pattern-free. It's plain, plain, plain, garter stitch all the way, with zero embellishments. But in terms of shape and fit, it's spot-on for this little girl and exactly what I had in mind - a tiny torso-warmer to see out the last weeks of winter.

I used some stashed yarn - Harmony 10ply by Naturally. It's 100% New Zealand merino and has a lovely almost felty texture. This little vest used about half a skein.

Oh, and I've finally been getting some time at the sewing machine in the past week. These little corduroy pants were a bit of a failure, however - far too short in the leg and the waist, despite adding the extra length given as an 'option' in the pattern. I ended up adding a thick lace ribbon to the cuffs so they wouldn't look completely like half-mast clown pants. 

Stella likes them, though. They match her red shoes. Or "soozh", as she calls them.

I Won MasterChef!

Well, not me exactly. But the actual winner is my age, has as many kids as me, lives in the town I grew up in, has reddish coloured hair that seems permanently pulled back in a pigtail and wears glasses. My own daughter saw a picture of her back in the early days of the competition and shouted with excitement, "Mummy, it's you!" She has even admitted to pretending she was hosting a television cooking show when she used to bake as a kid. I DID THAT TOO!

We're different on two counts, it would appear. A quick google today revealed that she's an evangelical Christian. And she is clearly a far better cook than me.

But what's important in all this is that there is a winner, which means 14 weeks of six-night-a-week viewing has come to a close. I've made no secret of being a fan, but I'm not sad that it's over.

Hello, evenings. Glad to have you back.

Two cheeky monkeys watching MasterChef last week. Both of them had already been put to bed at least once.

this moment

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. 

Via Soulemama

Yarn Along

Joining in again with Ginny's Yarn Along. I'm still reading the same book from the last time I joined in - 'When God Was a Rabbit' by Sarah Winman. I'm mentioning it again because after a few false starts, I'm well into it now and can definitely plug it as an absorbing read. I'm actually wishing I was snuggled down with it now rather than upright at the computer.

I'm still knitting the Abalone - very little progress has been made. And there are a couple of navy blue requests inching along for the Toowoomba mob. But here, begun today, is what I hope will be a little grey vest for one (or both) of my little ladies. There's no pattern. I have dozens of vest patterns but I'm winging it here, eager to finally put into practice my plans to try and design something original...ish. Of course, I have no idea where to begin or what I'm doing, so stay tuned. The yarn is some lovely NZ merino left over from a slouchy hat I once knit before I realised slouchy hats don't suit me. The vest is all garter stitch and not much to look at yet, but that little ball of lovely soft wool is quite lovely, and very photogenic, don't you think?

Of course, I'm also flicking through that other dazzling publication - a belly laugh on every page there...

Vintage Handcrafts

Having recently discovered the fun that can be had op-shopping, I've started to amass a small but charming collection of vintage craft books. This recent find from 1972 is a true delight, with a variety of "novelty articles to sew", some smocking and crochet, as well as an assortment of "decorative articles from tulle". I was drawn in by the author's rather  lofty claims in the introduction - "How many times have you bought a handcraft book and have only used one article from it? In this book there is a use for every article." Every article? Really?

At first I wasn't sure if I'd have much use for this tulle swan, but the author Mrs Harris suggests it would be lovely for a wedding, especially if made in a colour to match the bridesmaids' dresses. I'll keep it in mind for my friend's wedding in December. I'm thinking peach tulle, Amanda.

I don't own a great many pairs of stockings, but the few I have would fit beautifully into this useful stocking bag. Mrs Harris suggests hanging it on a hook in an inconspicuous part of the bedroom, but I say something as classy as this should be out on display, perhaps somewhere near the front door.

Who wants their Mixmaster uglying up the kitchen bench? Better to cover it in something that is far more aesthetically pleasing and not cluttering in the slightest. I wonder if it works for KitchenAids too...

And this one's pure genius! My kitchen string is always a shambles, getting knotted up and twisted around the clingwrap and alfoil in the drawer. Wouldn't this not-even-slightly-freaky-looking monkey string holder solve all that? There's a doll face version too, but I reckon the monkey wins hands down. Now if only I can find 1 plastic monkey face...

Please Don't

"Please don't go in my room and please don't touch my toys."

At least she said the magic word.