Here you go. White chocolate and salted peanut cookies. Hmm….
And off I went, induced into a warm kitchen, Julie and Julia trance, with a thirst to do more high calorie damage. Like a cyborg created by Skynet to whip up a mean buffet. So I cracked open my new book….
Here is the book/hair shot!
There is a myriad of tarte aux citron recipes out there. I did not choose Rosie’s recipe for any reason other than I wanted to use it to justify the cover price. That’s what I tend to do with all my books. Rosie’s book has a real cosmopolitan feel. The type that makes you want to put daisies in the middle of the table and Ella Fitzgerald on the stereo whilst your friends who are named Kellan and Celine come round wearing a cravat and a Cath Kidston tea dress respectively. Alas my life ain’t like that. Myself and my one posh sounding friend, Marie-Claire talk American Idol with regional accents.
So I started with the pastry. Blind baking nonetheless.
Which looked like the following baked:
The only thing left for it was a lemon custard filling. Lemon zest, caster sugar, cream, lemon juice and egg yolks, whisked into a creamy loose batter that just promised a tasty custard.
And the result? Here it comes:
Ok, so the pastry is a little overdone, but this has real promise.
I seem to have neglected the need to make a meal so I have shoved a chicken in the oven and think I may dish it up with more pesto. I’m so damn hungry all the time. Thank heavens I ran this morning, I needed some damage limitation.
– I don’t run for pleasure. I run for the love of cake. And bread. And pie.