When life gives you sour plums...

There comes a time when even the most ardent wordsmith struggles with something to say. I seem to have hit that wall a while back, and although I am not an ardent wordsmith, I am certainly loquacious. So, I wonder why I am finding it so difficult to find a suitable topic to post about? 

The move to shores anew certainly sparks a number of new stories, but most of these have been wildly frustrating in navigating new systems, mindsets, and routines that while understood and taken for normal by locals, frankly baffles the hell out of me. I certainly do not want to relive the Saga of the Wood Effect Bookshelves, or the Tale of The Too Short Shoe Rack. 

Instead, the past few months have been spent away from the new place we call home. That has given us a new sense of appreciation of what we now see as an abode that we have put our mark to, and somewhere we can find solace in after a long day. It also helps that we have stocked up on duty free. 

Iceland is a place of outstanding beauty. Naturally, I got more excited with these amazing works of public art instead of the scenery. (Not pictured, the 2 headed goat)

This summer saw us gallivanting through parts of the UK, Iceland, and Canada. For the most part, it was a break to see new places, experience new things, and generally, kicking back and having a laugh. For me, mainly, it was a time to spend with friends afar, and that after 2 weeks and a bit of being together all the time, and not being totally sick of each other, bodes well for the friendship we talked about for years to come.

 This is Thkipper, Barbie's Galician cousin. This picture is also totally unrelated to the post, apart from the fact that it seemed a good idea that the Spanish themed dinner we planned suddenly went via Mexico.

My friend Hillary has written a much more succinct post on the incredible light that completely discombobulated us. Imagine after almost constant light, stepping off a plane to find yourself in the darkness that is called night. That struck a sense of awe in us, arriving in Halifax, after 4 hours on the flight where I mainly got overexcited with the meal plans we had ahead. In the end, time itself limited our voracious appetites, and while I went a bit mad at the markets and shops, the true thing of wonder was when both Hillary and I stepped into Canadian Tyre. 10 minutes later and our arms laden with various things, we suddenly remembered what we had actually gone in for.

There were lobsters to be dismembered and grilled. There were punnets of berries to be turned into jam, sorbet, pies, tarts and other things. There was meat to be charred on the barbeque. We did all that, and more. 

I may be digressing, but, I have come to the thing I wanted to write about, which mainly, is the experimentation with the various foods that we had. I bought some golden plums, which, when cooked, turned out to be even more tart than sucking on a lemon. A whole upside down tart had been baked, which was essentially inedible. Even after having sprinkled lots of sugar over it and whipped back in the oven to caramelise. So, instead of sending the whole thing to waste, we improvised and turned it into a golden plum and cardamom ice cream instead.

Here is the recipe:

Ingredients
1 inedibly sour Golden Plum Tart
1 handful of more sour Golden Plums
1 measure of sugar
1 portion of prepared custard for ice cream, infused with cardamom instead of cinnamon

Method

• Scrape off plums from the tart, put in pan with some uncooked plums (stones removed), add an amount of sugar to mask any tartness.
• Cut up the soggy tart base into small pieces, set aside.
• Prepare the ice cream base. Chill, and churn, adding the plum mess and soggy tart base.
• Eat with gusto. It really is more delicious that I have made it sound.