Margo's Marmalade

Dear Cathy

Nice of you to drop me a note but I wasn't worried about you. I remember only too well last year when you went AWOL for a month and it turned out you were sitting on your backside without a care in the world somewhere on the Costa del Sol. I was beginning to wonder about Margo though, as we haven't heard from her for a while, so I popped in on her today.

It was a surprise visit, and I found her in her newly remodelled kitchen making Marmalade. The kitchen looked beautiful I must say. She has a classic cream Aga, a stylish kitchen island, several stained-glass windows, one of those fab red food mixers they use on The Great British Bake-Off, and not one, but two HUGE chandeliers. The place was spick and span, and there she was, just about to do the wrinkle test - on her Marmalade.
When the boiling mixture had reached setting point she lifted the huge preserving pan off the Aga and poured the contents into jars (and over the table) 'freehand'. I was holding the jars steady and let me tell you it's a wonder I've got any skin left on my arms. If you want to know what to buy Margo for Christmas next year, for god's sake get her a funnel. Anyway, while I was there she made a phone call and while she was distracted I took the opportunity to run my finger along a few of the less conspicuous work surfaces, but not a trace of muck anywhere. (I bet her bedroom is strewn with wet towels and dirty underpants.) She was kind enough to send me home with a (small) jar of her freshly made marmalade - pictured. I could ask her to write with the recipe if you were interested?

Did I ever tell you about the time Margo and I went to see The Vagina Monologues together? We were waiting for curtain-up and Margo was just telling me that she'd left her brood with a roast chicken, stuffing, roast potatoes, carrots, beans, cauliflower, cabbage and god knows what else, when she received a text from Mr Margo which read: "No gravy - gutted!"
I'd left Mr Latte a piece of toast on a plate with an unopened tin of sardines on top. Some men don't know they're born do they?

Speak soon dear. Love Lucy. x

PS Did I tell you about my new Breville 'Cafe Style Sandwich Press'???

Happy New(ish) Year!

Happy New Year, Lucy! I can't believe that we're almost in February! Where is the time going?

I have to apologise for my lack of baking - I'm afraid that my beloved has transmogrified into somewhat of a foodie fascist in a bid to rid himself of a spare-tyre's worth of festive fayre. The least mention of anything more fattening than a limp crudite has him launching into a rant about health and fitness. I wouldn't mind, darling, but there is a cupboard full of left-over chocolates that I'm having to consume, surreptitiously; it's a dirty job, but someone has to do it...

I'm hoping to be able to bake later in the week as the Chino children are about to take packed lunches to school, and shall want something 'cakey' to accompany their sandwiches. I do hope it all goes well, Mr Chino has volunteered to make their lunches, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the responsibility will fall to me ere long; 'twas ever thus - I remember the long discussions we had as a family before we got the dog, last summer: "Oh, yes! We'll all walk her!", "I'll get up at 6 o'clock in the morning to take her around the block, Mum.", "We'll have lovely family walks at the weekend!"Needless to say, I'm the only person who remembers the aforementioned conversations and the only one who turfs out at all hours and in all weathers! (But that's how I can get away with finishing-off all of the chocolates without my jeans giving me away!)

I'll write to you again very soon, with results of my latest bake.

Hope all is well with you and that your oven is sparkling, once again.

Much love, Cathy x