Jane Brocket's Blog, page 34

happy monday

 

out and about

I was invited back to the Malago WI to give another talk. (It's always nice to be asked back somewhere.)

From my bath in the place I stayed, I enjoyed a spectacular view of the rooftops of Bristol, and I had a sunny swim at the Lido which combines a brilliant heated outdoor pool with fantastic food and drink.

There's an interview with me in the October issue of Mollie Makes,

and a feature about my baking in the very sweet Sweet,

and a Q&A and extract in Love Patchwork.

I've seen my knitting book in Finnish in a Finnish book shop, but I still can't say the title: Lempeää neulontaa.

I was very surprised and terribly pleased to find my quilting book in the Marimekko flagship store in Helsinki with other textile reference books out on a reading bench for customers to read.

I went to Foyles for a knitting group 'ktog' reunion plus four babies born in the twelve months. Knitting and babies really do go together.

I saw Liberal Arts at the Curzon Soho (how civilised to have a Konditor & Cook and a non-mainstream cinema in the same building). It's a thoughtful film, about love, literature, books, reading, growing old, looking backwards, looking forwards, not wishing your life away.

I've been to the Knitting & Stitching Show. The tea and refreshment arrangements are as bad as ever (see here and here; Ally Pally is the antithesis of the Curzon Soho/Konditor & Cook and Clifton Lido set-ups). On the plus side, it was good to see some Nancy Crow quilts, and the excellent Charles Holden-designed Wood Green tube station on the way home.

But the architectural and social highlight of the week was Goddards and a lovely Persephone party. I was too busy talking to take photos, though.

 

closure

[various fabrics, The Eternal Maker]

Today I finished writing a book. In effect, I have closed it and delivered it to my editor. In reality, I have just sent the last document to a distinctly modern and unromantic Drop Box file. There is none of the old-fashioned shuffling of papers, tying up with ribbon, or flourish of typing THE END in large letters, but there is the utter relief and delight of having got to that point. It is a lovely feeling; for at least two years I have woken up every day knowing that the book is coming up and has to be thought about, then that it has to be written and the quilts need to be made. When you do everything yourself, as I do, a project like this fills your mind, days, evenings, weekends. And now, with the last full-stop, it no longer does. I can honestly say that there aren't many moments of satisfaction that are better than this.

It doesn't last long, though. Because very soon there will be the photoshoots, the editing, the technical queries, the illustrations, the corrections, the proof-reading, then a wait before publication when the book comes back full-on into my life. But for a short while I can bask in the finishing of the work only I can do for this book. Now that it has gone, it is part of several other people's work, too, and not my responsiblity alone, which makes the rest of the process so much easier and me feel quite light-headed.

And now I am going for a walk with a very empty brain.

best font forward

All cities are full of interesting details, especially if you look up, but not all locals appreciate the wealth and history of the fonts and numbers and letters and signs that surround them. So I loved the fact that a small, off-beat publisher created a Font Walk Map for the World Design Capital Helsinki 2012 programme. The map has sold out but can still be downloaded for free, and it's a clever piece of design in itself.

The walk takes about 45 minutes and guides you past all sorts of wonderful, curious, stylish, bizarre details on buildings, gates, fascias and doors. It makes you realise just how much you miss most of the time, and how much thought, ingenuity, skill, artistry and history is on view for free.

Helsinki is particularly rewarding in terms of fonts as there isn't the same rush to strip away the old and replace with the new and modern that you find in so many fast-forward places, so the city has a great mix of styles and eras (like Lisbon and Porto) and a real respect for craftsmanship and design; even if a sign or font is no longer cutting-edge, it still adds to the visual richness.

The above are all taken on the Font Walk, but there are plenty more fabulous fonts and numbers elsewhere. The Central Railway Station (below) designed by Eliel Saarinen is quite spectacular and worth spending time in and around,

and I particularly like the 1938 main Post Office building.

Having learned so much on a 45-minute Helsinki Font Walk, I think it's time more cities put their best font forward.

helsinki

[Berries including lingonberries at Hakaniemi Market Square]

Fifty hours in Helsinki.

[round the corner from the Aalto House; there are two rows of windows behind the creeper - and the lights were on inside]

Filled with walking, sitting in old-fashioned cafes drinking coffee and trying different types of pulla (favourite: cardamom), visiting the Alvar Aalto House, spending hours looking at the brilliant range of Finnish books on crafts and gardening and architecture in the Aalto-designed Academic Bookshop*.

['Wave' plant container at the Aalto House designed by Aino Aalto]

Travelling around the city by tram and gazing out of the window. Enjoying the design details everywhere. Appreciating the lack of pretension and the modesty of the city.

[Old Church Park]

Going to an exhibition of Finnish design and craftsmanship (such a rich history of passementerie and hat-making).

[Hakasalmi Villa, now a museum, above and below]

Looking for colour, and being richly rewarded.

And following Nigel Slater's recommendation and eating one of the best bowls of soup ever in a small, simple, very popular soup kitchen in the indoor market.

* Galinsky is a brilliant website and an incredibly useful, free resource if you are interested in modern architecture.

25

This is why I am glad I married Simon.

I thought I was buying 25 'Mount Hood' daffodil bulbs. But by mistake I went on the wrong page for that variety and bought 25 kilos. I didn't realise what I'd done until a huge sack of bulbs arrived. When, feeling pretty stupid, I phoned to tell Simon, he didn't call me an idiot, or say that I shouldn't expect him to help me plant them, or that I should send them back. No, he just laughed and laughed, and said that it looks as though we'll be having lots of daffodils next spring. 

Next year we will have been married for 25 years. It won't be our silver anniversary, it will be our daffodil anniversary. 

busy daisies

My 'busy daisies' which are not lazy as they work quickly to cover fabric. They are stitched with lazy daisy stitch and French knots, and are inspired by the most common-or-garden flower to be found on vintage hand-embroidered tablecloths. I don't make a plan; like self-seeded flowers, they just bloom where they find a space.

They can be found in The Gentle Art of Stitching which will be out any day now.

sweet

It's so obvious. Sweet Tooth is the perfect title for a baking book.* Sweet, in fact, as the cool ones say.

I spoke too soon in my earlier post; Lily Vanilli's book has so many recipes I'd like to bake that I can put my own book back on the shelf. I began this morning with the Pink Grapefruit, Almond and Brown Sugar Teacakes. The slightly bitter, zesty pink grapefruit works beautifully with the sweet frangipane sponge; when eaten while still warm (no-one was prepared to wait), the cakes are sticky and very delicious.

A couple of Sundays ago we stumbled upon Lily's little bakery off Columbia Road and brought home some Bakewell tarts and brownies so we knew we liked her style. Her book not only has the perfect title, it's full of fabulous recipes and takes the adventurous baker a little further  into sweet techniques. The hard candy 'jewels' and sugar shards are top of Phoebe's list, and I want to make the mini-Bakewells so I don't have to wait for a Sunday to eat them.

And the colour of the book cover is just lovely; when it's shut, it looks like a very unusual layer cake.

* so good that there are two new books with this title, but I don't suppose they do clever things with sugar in Ian McEwan's Sweet Tooth.

personal space

[where I work]

After almost five months of one teenager or another at home, I can't quite believe that on Monday I won't have any interruptions or distractions or requests or chat during the day, and that I'll be able to occupy my personal space, well, personally.

Tom moved into a flat with friends a week or so ago and has been doing a week's work experience (an 'internship' in CV language), but is now a full-time student again. And, as of yesterday, Alice is at university. She decided to give it another go; as soon as she left the first one, she reapplied for this year and got a place at a university that should suit her far better. She held onto it even though she wasn't sure until quite recently whether she'd be going. She was then offered a room in her first-choice hall of residence, and things just came together. With the minimum fuss she got ready and went off, and now she's a student. She has had a fine gap year, earned a living, proved herself to be extremely well suited to the world of work, gained lots of new skills and friends, and now knows she's very employable. Plus, she saved lots of money so won't be a penniless undergraduate. And now we just wait and see how things go.

In the meantime, we have two newly very clean and tidy bedrooms. You lose a couple of teenagers, but gain some space. And, lest we become too fussy and houseproud, we still have one messy one at home to keep things real.

baking energy

For a while after finishing Vintage Cakes, I suffered definite cake-fatigue. The book contains more than ninety recipes and I made every single cake you see in the book. Each shoot required nine or ten cakes to be ready to photograph (no baking on the day, too much else to do), so the run-up to each one was full of shopping, testing, experimenting, making, icing, decorating, finishing. I've never bought so much butter, sugar and flour in my life, and I got through dozens and dozens of eggs, gallons of cream, catering size bags of icing sugar, many jars of jam, and inordinate amounts of glacé cherries and dried fruit.

There were plenty of disasters (one Angel Food cake which looked great when it came out of the oven sank horribly and ended up looking like a deflated rubber ring), but also plenty of successes and new discoveries. Phoebe was my helper (but she couldn't come to the photshoots because of school), recipe-tester, decorator, and calming influence. She also knew what to do with all the leftover cake. She put it in tins and bags and took it on the coach to school. The coach has about four times as many boys as girls, and the boys were brilliant cake-eaters, although the girls at school also did their fair share to help out. I kept getting messages via Phoebe about who liked what best - and it was often surprising; one boy loved the French madeleines, while Phoebe surprised herself by liking the parsnip cake.

For several months after finishing the book, I craved savoury, salty, spicy food, and couldn't face cakey, spongey treats. But now I'm over the cake-fatigue and I'm starting to think about baking again. Today, I just fancied making something small and tasty so I looked through a few books for ideas, before realising that all the recipes I like are in my own book. So Alice and I made raspberry friands (page 108) - sweet, damp, almondy cakes which will not be going on the coach tomorrow.