I have patched my gardening trousers. Fortunately Lands End make all their trousers for customers who are six feet tall, just on the off chance, and since I'm well short of that I had some material left over from lopping the bottom off the last pair. I must admit that this time round I was too idle to take them up, and simply rolled the hems over several times. That was a false economy of effort, since dust and gravel collect in the turn-ups, and occasionally deposit themselves in little heaps on the bedroom carpet when I get changed. This is why, if you call on us unexpectedly, you may find a pair of filthy chinos hooked over the handle of the door to the outer lobby, because when I remember I take them off downstairs rather than in the bedroom.
I spent the rest of the day weeding and watering, since the other morning's notwithstanding forecast rain never arrived. The humidity this morning was so high that there was rain first thing, but it was not so much proper rain as moisture simply condensing out of the air. We got some fine spray blowing in later on from the lettuce irrigation system in the next field, and I was relieved I wasn't trying to varnish anything outdoors, since the finish would have been ruined. I ended up watering the area where I was going to put the dwarf lavenders before planting them, because it made it so much easier to dig the holes.
And now I am sitting here churning ice cream at half past eight in the evening. I got rather carried away buying ingredients when I thought it was going to rain, and then when it didn't I got on with the gardening, and now the cream is dated to expire so I'd better use it. It is Dulche de Leche Ice Cream, from the big, pink jacketed, Grub Street book on the subject by Caroline and Robin Weir. They are marvellously thorough, and give long and detailed instructions on how to boil the can of condensed milk to caramelise it, before mentioning as a PS that nowadays you can buy tins ready caramelised. Grub Street are splendid publishers if you are interested in cooking, or aviation.
The South African plants in the gravel in the front garden are looking rather fine, but I think I had better tell you about those tomorrow since my attention now is rather taken up with the ice cream. When the note of the motor starts to change, it will be nearly ready. And it's getting too late to devote the time I should to describing the delights of Watsonia. Something to look forward to.
I feel there should be a fifth paragraph. Just as the advice is to plant in odd numbers, I think three or five would look better on the page than four. But the noise the ice cream maker is making has just risen perceptibly in pitch. It should not burn its motor out, since there's an automatic cut-out if the ice cream gets too thick, but once it stops churning you need to switch it off and get the contents out very quickly, or they freeze to the bottom of the churn like cement. The make is Gaggia and I recommend it, if you are serious about ice cream. Before I bought it I made the mistake of reading so many Amazon reviews that I researched myself to a standstill. Every model seemed to have something wrong with it. The worst you can say of the Gaggia is that it is quite noisy, but it certainly doesn't have any silly little plastic catches that break off or other serious drawbacks as highlighted in the reviews of some other makes.
No comments:
Post a Comment