Pandemic Pondering #322

This blog is not going the way I planned. But it can start with Brunch which is not a bad way to start the week.

Brunch featured egg islands. Fried bread with a fried egg served in a hole in the middle of a slice of bread and the remaining circle of bread also served fried, to dip in the egg. Fried bread for both of us is something our Dads did well.

Both our fathers also loved blood oranges which was the planned route this blog was going. We could have pondered on over tea and cake about our fathers and their domestic skills. My domestic skills, however blew a hole in that comforting scenario.

© Clare Law

So successful was the whole orange cake I made last week, I planned to make another one today using blood oranges for extra flavour. The boiled oranges were good subjects for photography.

The ripe red orange colours of the days cooking stop right here.

There was an error in the making of the cake. Instead of adding Baking Powder I used Baking Soda ( Bicarbonate of Soda) Any other cake would have just looked beautiful but tasted nasty with this error. An Orange cake containing three whole oranges was a completely diiferent matter. Bicarbonate of Soda reacts crazily when combined with acid. The acid of three oranges combined with Baking Soda was a thing not dissimilar to an erupting volcano. Not realising the extreme cause of the problem I trimmed off the extra crust and binned the volcanic run off caused by effluvial action and had something resembling a cake, passable only to a desperate woman who wanted to serve gorgeous slices of cake to prove the afternoons efforts were not in vain. Eating the slice was worse than looking at it. Bitter and cloying are not words that are ever said between mouthfuls of comestible pleasure.

There is no sumptuously moist photo of domestic triumph to neatly end this blog. Instead all I can offer is some flowers that match rather well with the now extinct, in this house, Blood Orange Cake. The flowers are anonymous, I found them in a supermarket.

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