Oops
11:00am - Flick puts marrons glacés in Aga, and sets alarm for three hours.
1:00pm - Flick realises that the alarm will go off while she's being de-haired, cancels it and SMSs Mike to say "please take them out in an hour or two".
7:00pm - Flick thinks "I wonder if Mike took the marrons glacés out of the Aga? I don't remember seeing them on the worktop while he was cooking. Must remember to check." And then forgets, on account of being in a field at the time.
9:30pm - Flick remembers thinking the above when last in the field. And continues to remember for long enough to get into the kitchen and take them out of the Aga.
I wonder what that's going to do to them...?
(They are rather experimental, and made from windfalls. We shall see!)
(The sugar has, finally, all dissolved in the sloe gin, though, which I take as a good sign! Anyone know if I still need to keep periodically shaking it now or not? Am contemplating taking some carrier bags out and gathering fruit for a second, post-frost batch, but all the ones I'd been vaguely considering for that are now looking a bit old and withered, due to late frost.)
(I paraphrase only slightly when I say that one of the Aga cook books describes the process thus: "Making marrons glacés without an Aga is a horribly long and tedious process. With an Aga, it only requires three or four hours of initial prep time and then popping them in the simmering oven for two or three hours each evening for a fortnight while preparing dinner! So simple!")
1:00pm - Flick realises that the alarm will go off while she's being de-haired, cancels it and SMSs Mike to say "please take them out in an hour or two".
7:00pm - Flick thinks "I wonder if Mike took the marrons glacés out of the Aga? I don't remember seeing them on the worktop while he was cooking. Must remember to check." And then forgets, on account of being in a field at the time.
9:30pm - Flick remembers thinking the above when last in the field. And continues to remember for long enough to get into the kitchen and take them out of the Aga.
I wonder what that's going to do to them...?
(They are rather experimental, and made from windfalls. We shall see!)
(The sugar has, finally, all dissolved in the sloe gin, though, which I take as a good sign! Anyone know if I still need to keep periodically shaking it now or not? Am contemplating taking some carrier bags out and gathering fruit for a second, post-frost batch, but all the ones I'd been vaguely considering for that are now looking a bit old and withered, due to late frost.)
(I paraphrase only slightly when I say that one of the Aga cook books describes the process thus: "Making marrons glacés without an Aga is a horribly long and tedious process. With an Aga, it only requires three or four hours of initial prep time and then popping them in the simmering oven for two or three hours each evening for a fortnight while preparing dinner! So simple!")

no subject
And, apparently, "all country dwellers find that their freezer fills up with game". Am looking forward to that one, though I doubt it. Maybe if we could induce the hunt to cross our land....
It really does do some lovely roasted meat, though. You'd know that, if you'd been to visit us. Hmph.
Still not convinced by the scrambled eggs (ie, only thing I regularly cook), though: hot plate is too, cold plate is too, sigh. Toast fabulous, though. Thoroughly converted to Aga toast. Nom. And Mike's Aga-cooked sour-dough crumpets? Worth a trip on their own.
no subject
Scrambled eggs is doable, but you need to embrace the French method: plenty of butter, plenty of time (and use Le Creuset). Once your butter has started to foam, crack your eggs straight into the pan, then remove from the heat and start whisking with a fork. Only put it back on for five-ten seconds when you need to bring the temperature back up.
I hear great things about Aga toast, but the one I dealt with didn't have the toast rack. Pretty slack, really.
Your subtle hints about visiting have been duly noted.
no subject
FF