The weekend passed without fanfare. I didn’t have much time to cook and even if I had been granted an extra 12 hours tagged onto Saturday for good behaviour, Tim insisted that we watch all three Six Nations Rugby matches. As I choked back boredeom, I did, however, manage to make a jar of Quince Brandy. It wasn’t much of a stretch of the skills to prepare: cut the quince into eighths without peeling or coring, poke into a sterilised jar alongside a stick of cinnamon and some star anise and bathe generously in brandy (i.e. fill to the top). It does look lovely, I must admit, but waiting 6 months before consumption will be a test of my patience.
A Slow Baked Weekend
A Slow Baked Weekend
A Slow Baked Weekend
The weekend passed without fanfare. I didn’t have much time to cook and even if I had been granted an extra 12 hours tagged onto Saturday for good behaviour, Tim insisted that we watch all three Six Nations Rugby matches. As I choked back boredeom, I did, however, manage to make a jar of Quince Brandy. It wasn’t much of a stretch of the skills to prepare: cut the quince into eighths without peeling or coring, poke into a sterilised jar alongside a stick of cinnamon and some star anise and bathe generously in brandy (i.e. fill to the top). It does look lovely, I must admit, but waiting 6 months before consumption will be a test of my patience.