Sugar Mice And Other Birthday Treats

Dear readers,

To paraphrase the French writer, Erik Orsenna, in his book dedicated to sugar, bitterness, sourness and saltiness bring us back to our everyday lives whereas sweetness always evokes an air of festivity.

Sugar holds magical powers.  It can unlock the gates to an enchanted kingdom of childhood memories.  Biting into red lacquered toffee apples - can you hear the music of the fun fair? - nibbling paper-thin, buttery pancakes on Shrove Tuesday with dribbling white sugar and lemon juice, dropping a generous dollop of strawberry jam into a bowl of creamy rice pudding, deftly pinching a piece of Christmas cake marzipan behind your mother's back (was I the only one to do that?) and the unequalled treat of being presented a vast assortment of chocolates to choose from.

Caster, granulated, confectioners, Muscovado, Demerara, liquid sugars both amber and white. Regardless of its multifaceted forms, sugar always has the ability to metamorphose into different forms simply by the application of heat.  Who has not succumbed to the delights of making jams and marmelade or marvelled, whlst stirring and waiting patiently for the soft ball stage, at the deepening colour of caramel and the aroma which holds the promise of bowls of ice cream with lashings of caramel or fudge sauce?  Reach the hard crack stage instead and you will be subjecting your teeth to the pleasures of brittle toffee.  For me the humble meringue is the most miraculous of all. Combine two ingredients, sugar and egg whites, to create clouds of white billows, creamy inside with a crisp exterior.  A most heavenly delicacy.

Dani Sunshine's knitting pattern, Brook, is like inviting an old friend for tea; hours of peaceful pleasure spiced up with moments of frivolity and laughter.  Those dinky twisted cables are deliciously addictive; take a peek here and here for proof.  I called this pullover Coloured Sugars.  The Uncommon Thread colourway, Manuscript, makes me think of raw cane sugar.  And don't your just love that spring-like assortment of colours in the stripes?  I bought a skein of Koigu Painter's Palette one Easter, on a whim, and chose to knit it double here (it's a fingering weight) for the rows.  The colours remind me of a display of flavoured sugars I spotted in this fabulous tea and coffee shop in the Loire Valley town of Blois a fortnight ago.

My birthday cake - yes, yes, it's my birthday - simply had to be Maple Syrup Cake this year.  It's quick to bake, fluffy and, doused with richly flavoured syrup, becomes as sticky as a steamed sponge pudding.  The best part for me was watching the children's faces light up as each evoked their special memories of enjoying this cake, some of which had slipped my mind.  Tristan recalled eating it one snowy sunday with candles and his eyes simply sparkled.  I found this recipe once in an old Sainsbury's recipe book but I've made it so many times that I know it by heart.  It's delicious with vanilla ice cream, strawberries in late spring, or slices of apples sautéed in a little salted butter with a dusting of cinnamon.

You will need:

250 ml (8 fl oz) maple syrup

125g (4oz) self-raising flour

125g (4oz) sugar

125g (4oz) softened butter

2 eggs

2-3 tablespoons milk

1. Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°C and butter a dish.

2. Heat the syrup in a saucepan until it comes to the boil.

3. Sift the flour into a large bowl and add the sugar.  Mix.

4. Add the butter and eggs and mix until the mixture becomes creamy.

5. Add the milk and mix.

6. Pour the hot maple syrup into the prepared dish and spoon the cake batter on top.

7. Bake for around 40 minutes.

8. Remove from the oven and turn upside down onto a pretty plate while still warm.

Those tiny pink mice and rabbits, gazing up at silvery snowballs and flakes on a sparkly linen, were designed for a sweet girl who will be celebrating her fifth birthday tomorrow (five is SO much better than forty-five); a gift by way of showing my appreciation for her most generous grand-mother.  As I reached out for my favourite The Gentle Art hand-dyed cotton embroidery threads in the Spun Sugar and Pink Champage colours, unsure of what to make,  my mind conjured up SUGAR MICE!  Another childhood memory.  Do let me know, incidentally if you would like the reference for the sparkly linen.*  It is stunning even though you can barely catch a glimpse of the glimmering threads on the pictures I've taken.  The hare, Miss Twinkle Toes, is also made from the same linen.  You cannot have too much of a good thing, right?

 

There have been A LOT of hares and a handful of mice being created behind the scenes (all to be seen over at Madame Millefeuilles) in time for Christmas.  They've been clamouring to be displayed here this evening but only two were invited, Miss Twinkle Toes and Mademoiselle Violetta (with twenty five hand-embroidered sugared violets trimming her skirt).  I told them it would not do to bombard my readers with a gaggle of giggly linen creatures.  These little ladies will be requiring some boy companions soon, I think.  After Christmas, I hope.

I've been counting my days in hare parts and garments these past months which, some would say, is a sign of obssession.  That is the way I am.  One evening this week, dear Héloïse invited me to the theatre as a birthday treat.  We saw Molière's Les Fâcheux, written in haste for the unfortunate Nicolas Foquet, Louis XIV's minister of finances, for the grand festivities at Vaux-le-Vicomte in 1661.  Whilst I sat through this remarkable represenation, given by La Fabrique à Théatre, I marvelled at the Baroque dance, music and burlesque, and realised that in some sense I had lost my way a little over the past few years.  I felt tears of joy pricking my eyes and felt as though I had returned home into the world of Baroque art.  Now I feel quite fired up and pretty certain that change is afoot for me.

I've think I've rabbited on long enough about sugar and treats, my friends!  I leave you with a picture of my sweet-toothed Tristan, my favourite musician, who always has a creative project up his coat sleeve!

Thank you SO much to all those who take the time to leave a message here.  I know how busy you all are and I truly appreciate the time you take to write a few words.

A bientôt,

Stéphanie

ps Joining in with sweet Hannapat's Weekly Bake. 

* Here is the reference for the sparkly linen as requested by some kind souls: Zweigart 32ct Belfast Lurex Linen.  Now, I found it pretty tricky to find some in the UK but purchased mine from my favourite central Paris shop, Des Fils Et Une Aiguille which has a fabulous online shop too.

Flower Meadow

Belle Ile en Mer is an enchanted island stretching away from the Quiberon peninsula in southern Brittany.  Fennel and marjoram grow wild on the verge of its narrow lanes and the sea air is so pure it deserves to be sipped like the finest champagne.









 Along the rue des Impressionnistes on the outskirts of the tiny village Kervilahouen, where Claude Monet dwelled from September to November 1886, there is a flower meadow of breathtaking beauty filled with drowsy, drunken bees.  On the final morning of our holiday the children asked to see it one more time before heading out to the beach.  Angélique wore a simple Liberty summer dress, adapted from this book, (and sewn on the eve of our holidays when I should have been packing, sorting, and cleaning instead) and a beret made from The Uncommon Thread's merino fingering in the vibrant Meadow Grass colourway.  The pattern is Alana Dakos's Rustling Leaves Beret, an adult-sized hat which I knitted up on smaller needles to fit  my sweet daughter's head.  The hat was a treat to knit thanks to Alana's flawless pattern.  I had to shake out a sprinkling of sand after casting it off and the look on the kind hotel employee's face when I requested a plate to block the beret with was priceless! 

 

My Ravelry notes may be found here.

 I am grateful to my husband for taking all the picture above of our daughter together with this one below of Port Coton - a stone's throw away from our hotel - where Monet painted Les Aiguilles during his ten-week stay on the island.

 Mostly, however, I am deeply, deeply grateful to my wonderful parents (do you recall my father's ninetieth birthday celebration last November?) for making this holiday possible.  Thanks to them my children's heads are full of precious memories and the bond between cousins, aunts and uncles is stronger still.  My heart is aching now that we have waved good-bye to each and every precious member of this family of ours once again.  Distance can sometimes be cruel, don't you think?

Warmest wishes to you all.  I hope your summer has been filled with magical moments too. It's not over yet!

 

A bientôt,

 

Stephanie

 

ps Dear, dear Claire I simply must tell you how much your beautiful parcel soothed my sad heart on our return to reality yesterday.  You are the most generous-hearted lady and very soon you will be reading more about your exquisite gifts right here.  Thank you!



Violets: Elusive And Enduring

Dear readers,

Sweet violet season is drawing to a close in our neck of the woods.  Their first blooms in February demurely gracing our hedgerows and the shady outskirts of our neighbouring vineyards fill me with a quiet joy which whispers 'spring'.  How do I know they are sweet violets (Viola odorata) and not the tinier dog violets (Viola riviniana)?  Unlike their small cousins, the dog violet, which has no smell, these little beauties have that unmistakable perfume; the most elusive of all fragrances.  There have been abundant clumps of purple this spring - perhaps due to the equally abundant rainfall - and, soggy ground permitting, I have got down on my hands and knees to sniff.  Did you know that violets get their ephemeral scent from ionone?  After stimulating scent receptors, ionone binds to them and temporarily shuts them off completely. This substance cannot be smelled for more than a few moments at a time. Then, after a few breaths, the scent pops up again. Because the brain hasn't registered it in the preceding few moments, it registers as a new stimulus.  As magical as an illusionist's trick.  This year violets have been popping up, as if by magic, everywhere in our back garden.  I simply felt I had to do something with this unexpected crop and turn the elusive violet into something more enduring.



One of my most treasured French cookery books, L'Appel gourmand de la forêt, offers a handful of delicious recipes starring the modest wild violet.  Have you ever eaten toasted sandwiches with goat's cheese and violet leaves?  I haven't but I'm willing to give it a go!  Apparently the leaves taste like spinach.  Linda Louis, the author, explains how the elusive scent disappears completely once cooked.  The best manner of preserving the delicate taste therefore is by mixing the flowers, stalks and leaves removed, with alcohol, butter, vinegar, or sugar, of course.

I gently ground, as suggested, 40g of violets with 200g of sugar with a pestle and mortar, spread the purple sugar onto a paper-lined baking tray and let it dry overnight.  Sprinkled over fromage blanc, pancakes, waffles, meringues, and my favourite rice pudding, this sugar suffuses us for a few moments with nostalgia.

 

If the scent of violets is ethereal it can be equally difficult to capture the colour violet on camera.  My passion for violets compelled me to purchase some delectable yarn from The Uncommon Thread in the Viola colourway and knit something simple and a little old-fashioned for our sweet Angélique.  Do you see those adorable mother-of-pearl buttons, found at La Droguerie in Paris during a wonderful day last week?  They have tiny violets engraved on them.





 



The pattern is Granny's Favourite.  This is my first Georgie Hallam pattern. I was slightly taken aback when I saw sixteen pages printing off but I hasten to add that it is a perfectly wonderful pattern to follow; a delight to read with its colour-coded size instructions. Granny’s Favourite - we are talking Little Red Riding Hood’s Grand-mother of course - can be knitted with short, middle-sized, or long sleeves which makes it sound a little like Goldilocks And The Three Bears!  My Ravelry notes are here.

 

I am delighted to announce that the winner of my French harp music giveaway is An Cailin  Please email me your postal address so that I may send it off to you  I just know that it will make your heart sing.

 

A bientôt,

 

Stephanie

 



Confetti





 

 The Old and the New sharing a similar colour theme: 

 

1. A hand-stitched instrument case hastily put together when I received my Baroque oboe in 2008 wrapped up in newspaper!  For the smattering of readers who have been following me since I started Millefeuilles in June 2011 you will perhaps recall that I used a detail of the embroidered flowers for my first header.

 

2, 3, and 4. My twelfth and last pullover for the 12 Sweaters in 2012 over on Ravlery which has now become 13 Sweaters in 2013.  I remain undecided about whether to participate this year for the simple reason that I have set myself some other challenges which I am so very excited about.  Very excited indeed!  I cannot wait to share them with you.

 

The pattern for this little knit is Bella by Dani Sunshine which, should you wish to purchase it, comes together with Beck in an ebook called Small Streams.  The yarn is from The Uncommon Thread in the Confetti colourway: flashes of bright colours on a muted celadon.  A match made in Heaven which made for an amazing knitting experience.  As I type these words little Angélique, who is running around on her tiptoes (why isn't she wearing her slippers?), is wearing her new cardigan and it fits her beautifully.   It is also the softest knitted garment in her wardrobe to date. I am so happy with it as she is too.  Her eyes lit up when she caught sight of her completed Winter Confetti.  What a perfect image to celebrate the New Year with.  A multitude of coloured pieces of paper dotting the sky and ground at celebrations and at carnival.  (The origins are from the Latin confetti the plural of confetto, a small sweet. Interestingly, the Italian word for paper confetti is coriandoli which refers to the coriander seeds originally contained within the sweet.)  Confetti captures perfectly the way I perceive life: small, perfect, magical moments gently falling upon our everyday existence in plentiful quantities.  May each day of your new year have a generous dusting of confetti moments.  Which would you prefer?  Bright or muted colours?

 

The Uncommon Thread is filling her shop with a generous supply of new yarns tomorrow January 4th!  Be warned: this BFL wool is dangerously addictive.

 

Happy 2013 to you all!

 

A bientôt,

 

Stephanie