Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Peter Doig The White Canoe

i can try? (Delicious scones)



That now over a year since I put my bag in London, one year of a life together in a cozy cottage full of charm in the English - soft carpet and sash included.
If I admit feeling a bit apprehensive prior - have experienced cohabitation version only roommate Vietnamese well supplied with sociopathic serial killer cockroach , I was wrong, because apart from some problems quilt, everything is serene and delightful, like a soft scone fresh out of the oven.

Some fear the daily habits and routine. I can understand the anxiety with respect to the single errant sock (but where is the planet inhabited by the second sock?) tacky and dishes, of course. But when you have the chance to live with a namoure modern nor übersexual nor macho, you can savor. Yes, namoure does the dishes and coffee before leaving the morning, he knows how to change the sheets, turn the machine install blinds so I can sleep and get my bike by installing lights that I drive safely. My namoure not complain when I watch the series or stupid when I squat the bathroom, he likes a good steak as much as fried tofu, it makes me a hot toddy when I'm sick, and bring me cake and sublime stocks of chocolate.

Our little ritual, I love them and I keep them. ( We hear about it in fifteen years, right?)


There is, apparently, just a small thing that I must work: pitting of the plate .

You see, day out cracking I tend, in a restaurant or at home, to choose things rather healthy, back cod style rather qu'entrecôte, gazpacho instead rillettes, finally we see the kind .
That suits me just fine, since I love more than any stitching across the table from the dark side nutritionally incorrect, full of fries, sauce and chocolate sauce.

And all went well, we were sinking of happy days. I went free, totally uninhibited range. Until one day, uninhibited by a few glasses, namoure confesses that the only NO, it's not cute , it's just annoying at the end, I do not like when you pikes on my plate!

Really? It's not cute?

Well, I was a little shocked instantly. Years of exquisite stitching and free guilty collapsing suddenly, all the romantic memories that flow and disintegrate with voice-over thoughts of namoure exceeded (" but you'll let me eat my gnocchi mess! )

And then I opted for a brainstorming session. Me neither, I like it when they shoot on my plate. Especially not blank in my example.
I can make efforts handcuff me and when the mood subvient . The welfare of the house depends. So instead of promising more than I ever prick on his plate, I will limit myself and risk of succumbing to anemia by deprivation of prime rib, and I want to share my flan.

And then, even the blank, so it is less good when it is not there.

With that sweet scones made in England, clotted cream to spread if it is motivated. Light cream cheese for me, they never change.


***
Scones

for a dozen scones


1g 250g flour salt baking powder 8g

50g sugar 50g butter

30g raisins (optional)
125mL milk

Mix flour, salt, yeast, sugar, and melted butter. Add milk and mix until a smooth paste. Add raisins.
Let the dough rest in refrigerator at least an hour.
Spread the dough about 1.5 cm thick. Turn the dough and trim scones.
Brush with egg and let sit 2 hours
Preheat to 210 ° (at least if the oven is very powerful)
Brush a second time before baking. Cook 8 minutes, invert the plate and continue cooking 6 minutes.

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