I am so sorry. My poor blog has been neglected, if not by my heart. I have incomplete posts but I've had a lot on. Maybe I'll be able to post my Türkiye and mushroom and autumn colour thoughts soon.
I had a craving for bread and butter pudding over the weekend. I have never made it before but decades ago, when mums made a main course AND a pudding every night, my mum used to make this. In those days they did not waste food and so it was with this.
We had most of a large white nominally sourdough loaf left over from J's Aga cooking course in Dorset last week. I'd been wading my way though it but the huge loaf is hardening by the hour. And this was a way of using it up: Easy B+B pudding, cooked in the Aga this evening.
It's funny isn't it: your memories of parents come out in all sorts of ways. My mum and I had a brittle relationship as she succumbed to disappointment and then dementia, and it was a relief when she went but I do think of how, back in the 60s as part of her lodgers' duties, she had to learn to cook alien English dishes from scratch. My parents spent the first five years of their married life in a couple of rooms at Mrs Birstow's house in Petts Wood, and my mum learned to make Sunday roast for the three of them every week and clean out the oven afterwards.
She was desperate for a home of her own and she used to say that she didn't speak to my dad for a whole weekend away in the Trossachs - an incredible feat for her - until he agreed to put down a deposit on the house she'd seen in Chislehurst (Mottingham end).
Anyway, I made Nigella's Easy Bread and Butter Pudding this evening between emails and calls, and it was delicious, and perfect for a chilly autumn evening, and it reminded me of my mum when I was small.
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