Darling father is visiting, here and the local pub. He likes it there, he chats with the landlord, he gossips and watches the football. And he comes home with a full carrier bag of cherries.
I have never cooked cherries, I don't actually like them that much. I do not know what to do with them except not waste them.
I took a deep breath and left them around and some of them disappeared. Little bear lubs cherries. Actually I would have preferred if Darling Father had not just handed my three year old cherries with stones in and let him get on with it. I would like to have been able to 'risk assess'. Of course little bear is alright, but it would have been nice.
Then I painstakingly sat and pitted enough cherries to fill two IKEA kilner jars, added sugar and covered with brandy. At Christmas we (mainly darling father probably) will drink the brandy and the cherries will contribute to a spectacular fruit cake. If I can find a recipe.
Then finally I made a ginormous cherry crumble which did two days.
I am actually quite proud of myself at the lack of waste. And with the crumble, well, all things were aching and I was sick of the sight of the kitchen walls so I thought I would buy some crumble mix. I was ashamed, but decided I could live with the shame. Well, I would have lived with the shame if anywhere local had sold crumble mix and I ended up making it myself after all, which took all of two minutes and tasted very nice, actually.
I have quite impressed myself.
5 comments:
Well done! I like eating cherries. In fact, they are the only decent substitute that satisfies any cravings for chocolate. For me anyway.
Do you remember the 17lb turkey DF won in a raffle for Christmas one year that wouldn't fit in our small-ish electric oven? I think we were eating it 'til March.
I remember the turkey - the one that our mother had to take the shelves out of the oven for!
It happened every year, though. The turkey usually came from darling father's cousin, and they couldn't give him a small bird, could they?
I used to really loathe Christmas. love WS x
Oh dear. I just remember it as quite funny, from the viewpoint of a 9 or ten year old boy that is!
Didn't mean to trigger unhappy memories!
Lots of luv n' hugs.
I was the one listening to mother when darling father had promised to come in by 10pm and then rolled in after a Christmas Eve lock in at daft o'clock. I can laugh, but I don't look back at happy Christmases. WS x
Well, they weren't a barrel o' laughs sadly.
It's much more important to have good celebrations now and there must be a lot of joy in watching Little Bear enjoying himself so much.
((((((((((big hugs)))))))))))
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