Tuesday, October 19, 2010


My beloved and I were in the kitchen bickering companionably about my perceived shortcomings in the culinary area. She was preparing a sweet. There are some fabulous Autumn fruits about and I have been poaching pears and plums in mulled wine and honey. Today it was to be plums with cinnamon: I watched my beloved liberally sprinkling the cinnamon.

First course over it is time for the plums. I am chatting to the daughters when another little voice says:

I think I may have put cumin in the plums instead of cinnamon.

I try the plums. She is right.

It was an easy mistake. Cinnamon and cumin are the same colour.

I look doubtful.

My beloved goes into the kitchen and returns with two jars, their labels turned away from me. I correctly identify cumin from its colour immediately.

Well, they're Indian plums. she continues, unabashed. They're quite sweet and not unpleasant.

I can't tell, having covered mine in cherry yoghurt. There is a certain je ne sais quoi. No actually, there is a definite Je sais.

Your friends can contact me for the recipe via Facebook.

Go on. I dare you.

Update: My beloved wishes it to be known that in nearly 30 yrs of marriage there have been very few recorded culinary mistakes on her part and that if the tables were to be turned I would be seriously embarrassed. Fair point.