The lost summer



Have you seen summer? I missed it.  I completely seemed to have lost it.

Autumn is here already, it's taken me by surprise and I find myself feeling wistful for the warmer days.  Which is not like me I know, but somehow, with a full life of work and parenting, this summer passed by and I didn't have time to stop and notice it.  It didn't drag on like normal, it seemed to be over in the blink of an eye and I don't think I did enough awesome summer stuff.

Not enough swims in the cool water, no Friday night fishing, no garden filled with zucchinis.  I didn't scoff enough cherries or eat enough juicy peaches standing over the sink.  We didn't have enough BBQs, eat dinner outside and certainly not enough late evening walks in the cool night air.  Somehow, somewhere summer just passed me by. How did that happen?





I checked the calendar, yep, December, January and February were certainly there.  So I checked my photos and there I did find summer, well glimpses of it anyway.  Photos from a swim in the legendary Longley water hole, a sail down the river, picking blackcurrants, a picnic in a paddock, a weekend road trip in the country heat.

Seems there was an actual summer, and bits of it were glorious.   And I have proof that it did happen, but still, it went too fast and I'm left feeling nostalgic for summer.

So here's the proof of my lost summer.  But it still feels over too soon. I miss it. The lost summer of 2015.












Chocolate Plum Cake




Abundance is the word that sums up this time of year.  Even though the days are starting to get noticeably shorter, in the garden and in the kitchen it's bursting with delicious things to eat.  There are tomatoes of all shapes and colours, a glut of zucchinis and the stone fruits keep on coming.





My friend Lara has a lovely garden, over an acre in size, filled with generous old fruit trees with sweeping boughs that groan under the strain of so much fruit.  Every visit I leave with a bag full of perfectly ripe nectarines or dark blood plums, which we eat as quickly as we can, or make into jam or freeze them or poach them to have with yoghurt for breakfast.

These will be followed by nashi pears and golden delicious apples to add to the coming autumn harvest.

Then there's this cake, an old favourite from a book called Luscious by Michele Cranston.  A moist chocolate cake studded with plums and dark brown crunchy topping, I've been making it for a few years now and I still never get tired of it.

It's perfect cake to use up the abundance of the season.



Chocolate Plum Cake recipe as it appears in Marie Claire Luscious by Michele Cranston

165g firmly packed brown sugar
280g plain flour
185g unsalted butter
2 teaspoons baking powder
3 tablespoons dark cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon of salt
230g caster sugar
3 eggs, lightly beaten
185ml milk
16 small plums, cut in half, stones removed


Preheat oven to 180c. Grease a 25cm spring form cake tin.

Put the brown sugar in a bowl with 30 grams of the flour and mix together.  Add 3 tablespoons of the butter (leave the rest to soften to room temperature) and rub the butter in with your fingertips until the mixture resembles course breadcrumbs.

Sift the remaining flour, into a mixing bowl along with the baking powered, cocoa powder and salt.  Put the caster sugar and softened butter in a separate bowl and cream together using electric beaters, then add the eggs and mix well.  Add half the flour mixture, then half the milk mixing well after each addition.  Mix in the remaining flour mixture then the remaining milk.

Pour the cake batter into prepared tin and arrange the plum halves cut side down.  Sprinkle with brown sugar mixture and bake for 50 - 60 minutes or until a skewer inserted in the middle comes out clean.

Remove from oven and allow to cool before turning out of the tin (the plums will keep their heat and make the cake take longer to cool down than usual)

Serve with ice cream or cream.




Rose Geranium Meringues with blackcurrants and cream


The cherries are finished, must be four of the saddest words in the English language.  The end of the all too brief cherry season always leaves me feeling a little downhearted that there will be no more scoffing bags of roadside stall purchases and spitting the pips out the car window.

Which is why we stuff ourselves silly on the juicy purple fruit for the few weeks in summer we get to enjoy them.  We make them into jam, dehydrate them, pickle them and plonk them into jars of brandy, to quietly do their thing for a few months before opening on a chilly midwinter night.





Of course, the end of the cherry season isn't the end of the summer fruits. You can still catch some blueberries, there are peaches, and apricots, nectarines and the start of the plums.  We find our weekends scrambling for buckets and sun hats to go picking and then come home and scrounge for jars whilst going through an alarming rate of sugar as we preserving everything.

Last weekend we picked several kilos of blackcurrants from a picturesque farm by the river.  My favourite berry, although blackcurrants are not much chop to eat raw, adding a little sugar and heat creates the most delicious dark and moody fruit concoction ever.

We've made blackcurrant jam, blackcurrant curd and blackcurrant vodka, well actually, trying to make a cheats cassis, we shall see how we go.   But inspired as ever by Nigel Slater when it come to classic English fruit recipes, I made these delicious meringues with blackcurrants and cream.

Rosey fragrant crispy meringues with a fudgy centre, smothered with tart blackcurrants mellowed with cream, eating this makes me not so downhearted after all.






rose geranium meringues with blackcurrants and cream

Don't worry if you don't have rose geranium leaves in the garden, these meringues are lovely without.

110 grams white sugar
a sprig of rose geranium
3 egg whites
300 grams blackcurrants
50 grams sugar
300 ml pure cream


Heat the oven to 180g.

Place sugar on a baking tray and bruise the sprig of rose geranium and nestle it into the sugar.  Place the tray in the oven for 10 minutes or until the sugar is just warmed through. Remove form the oven and fish out the rose geranium sprig.

In the bowl of a stand mixer whip the egg whites until foamy.  Then gradually add the warm rosy sugar a tablespoon at the time, not too slowly but not too quickly either.

Whip the egg whites and sugar mix until they are very thick and white and glossy.

Place generous spoonfuls of meringue on a lined baking tray - leaving some space between each one so they have room to expand.

Place meringues in oven and reduce heat to 120C.  Bake for one hour and remove from oven. Allow to cool.

Meanwhile, remove any stalks from the currants and place in a saucepan with the sugar.  Bring to a boil over medium heat, reduce heat and cook only until the currants start to burst.   Remove from heat, allow to cool, then chill in the fridge.

Whip the cream to soft billowy peaks.

To serve...

Place a meringue on a plate and make an indentation in the top with the back of dessert spoon and dollop with cream.   Spoon over a generous amount of currants and their juice - three or four tablespoons.

Serve straight away.

Any left over blackcurrants are rather good with yoghurt and granola for breakfast.




* Thank you Alan Benson for letting me use your cherry photo.

A camping master list




The perfect formula for camping is one part Enid Blyton, one part Wes Anderson (Moonrise Kingdom)  and one part reality.   That's what I'm thinking as I pack the car....lashings of ginger beer, plaid blankets and practical things like a sleeping bags if there's room.

It's that crazy thinking that means I usually forget something critical...like the camp oven, or the children's flip flops, sunblock or rain coats.  And we always need rain coats, because if we're going camping, in Tasmania it's highly likely that it will rain.  It's how we roll.


















We're just back from a six night camp with friends at our favourite camp ground on Bruny Island. The first day the weather was glorious but from then on things got a little wet, quite a lot wet actually, the biggest downpour for January on record.   And it got windy too.  Very windy.  

But we were in the most delightful place and made the best of it.   We saw loads of baby echidnas up close, swam in the sea, didn't catch a single fish but caught plenty of waves.  We ate paella, bacon sandwiches, watermelon, and peaches.  And toasted jaffles with cheese and tomato with bacon on the outside, plus oysters, and samphire that we foraged along the shore.  Cooking outdoors on the fire is the best part of camping for me.

Round the fire one night, I got talking to my friend about camping lists, and she shared some camping wisdom about "the master list." A document listing camping essentials that you keep on your computer and update if needed when you return from each trip.  I need a master list, so I won't forget things, so of course I jumped on the idea as soon as I retuned.  I not sure this is what she had in mind, as my version is not at all practical but it's all very nice and filled with my favourite camping things.

My camping master list

Tartan :: blankets especially, but we also have a tartan esky to add to the mix. It seems very fitting in the outdoors.

Canvas :: we took a our new canvas tent and it stayed bone dry in the downpour, along with canvas stools, canvas shoes and canvas hats.

Enamelware :: mixing bowls, washing up bowls, plates, cups and tea pots.

Cast iron :: jaffle iron, tripod, frypan, dutch oven.....when cooking over a fire, cast iron is the best.

Wool :: woollen blankets, wool for knitting and woollen  beanies and jumpers to keep warm at night.

Tea :: goes without saying, I like strong builders tea like Yorkshire.

Paper :: books to read and note pads for drawing and writing lists.

Coffee :: absolutely essential, I bring my little italian espresso pot.

Bacon :: also an absolute must, each day must start with bacon. That's the camping rules.

Khaki :: on anything really, our new tent is khaki, but we could do with more. Second only to tartan.

Baskets :: Great for fishing, carting stuff to the beach, and storing kitchen essentials.

Timber boxes :: I use vintage timber boxes to lug stuff to camp, then they can flipped over for little side tables or used to prep dinner. No plastic storage bins for me thanks.

Cotton :: I have warm cosy cotton sleeping bags that are so comfortable, plus I bring cotton sheets and cotton face towels.  Not practical in the wet, but super comfy when it's dry.

Lashings of ginger beer :: It's the rules.  Ration of one ginger beer per day.

Cake :: a sturdy and honest cake to drink with tea, stored in a pretty cake tin.

Famous Five books :: those adventures are even more inspiring when read under the stars before bedtime.

Dark chocolate and whisky :: for adults to nibble and sip when the children have gone to bed.

Bunting :: I think so.

Binoculars :: For bird watching and that important Moonrise Kingdom touch, or swap for a vintage portable turntable.





When we got home, smokey, salty and tired we slept so soundly that first night, dreaming of the next outdoor adventure.  But not before writing my master list.

Do you have a camping list? What are your essentials?