Saturday was quite a productive day. Much of the afternoon was spent bottling rhubarb. We call it 3 garden rhubarb as it literally did come from three separate “homes”, only one of them ours.
Then there were Morello cherries, frozen, a gift from a friend. They make sensational cordial syrup, not so inclined to gel as blackcurrant or redcurrant, as they contain far less pectin.
Some went into a batch of cherry “vinegar”, which can be used as a salad dressing or as an old fashioned cordial syrup that is coming back into vogue (never found out children would drink it though, screwed up their noses big-time).
Very enjoyable time with all of this, but our Rose was not impressed. She sat disgruntled and sulking in a box that had contained the jars, furious because she considers it her right to have a comfortable lap to sit on for an hour or more each afternoon.
Now it’s satisfying when you look at the preserves all lined up ready to be moved to the pantry. So this evening I went out to the cooking school kitchen with a view to taking a photo.
Sigh. Doesn’t an old proverb say that pride comes before a crash? Literally true – I managed to knock three bottles of cordial syrup onto the floor with disastrous results.
Serves me right. Poor Robert has patiently mopped the floor four times already and it’s still sticky.