The Horniman Museum

During the Easter holidays I thought it would be lovely to visit the Horniman Museum and explore it as I had never been there before. It was a gorgeous sunny day, fresh and bright after early morning rain, and I didn't really know what to expect but I particularly wanted to see the gardens and the Victorian conservatory.

The large conservatory is a seating area for the restaurant where I enjoyed a lovely bowl of soup for lunch. It is also hired out for weddings and I can imagine it would look absolutely stunning by candle light.

Inside there was a range of displays including a large Natural History section full of so many animals and birds native to the United Kingdom, such as this gorgeous badger sett.... 

....... to ones from further afield, such as a now extinct Dodo and one of the highlights of the museum, the Walrus. 

The massive walrus, which was brought to London by the Victorian hunter James Henry Hubbard, who collected it from the Hudson Bay in Canada, was put on display in the Horniman Museum in 1890.

I am not really keen on taxidermy per se, but I guess you have to view it in the context of the time it was created, and these specimens were important in the study of Natural History.

It also must have been amazing for the Victorians to be able to see and appreciate these animals for the first time, and even for us, when images on television and the internet are so prolific, it is still interesting to see them in such displays.

That doesn't always mean that they are accurate. The walrus in the museum is an unusual taxidermy specimen as it appears stretched and 'over stuffed' with none of the skin folds that the walrus has in the wild. It is thought that the reason it is not so true to life is because over 100 years ago very few people had ever seen a live walrus. It is still one of the most popular exhibits in the museum.

There also the enjoyable African section. I loved the mummies in particular, as I have always had a fascination with Egyptology that at the time of my visit I was feeding by reading the thoroughly enjoyable but widely improbable Amelia Peabody mystery books by Elizabeth Peters. There heroine is the determined and intelligent Victorian female Egyptologist, Amelia Peabody, who gets into countless scrapes and manages to fight her way out of most of them with her specially adapted parasols, while catching criminals and murderers along the way.

This gorgeous lion is also in the African section. It is so unusual as well. I adore it!

But my favourite display was the Romanian Easter eggs, which were simply exquisite, and the fascinating exhibit, 'Mummers, Maypoles and Milkmaids' with photographs of English regional rituals and celebrations, such as May Day and Wassailing, taken by Sara Hannat.

It is an interesting museum with an eclectic and slightly surprising range of displays. Perhaps that is because it was originally a private collection and reflects the whimsy and interests of its founder and original curator.

The museum was opened in Victorian times, when Frederick John Horniman, a tea trader and avid collector, opened his house as a museum and moved into another residence, as he could no longer contain his extraordinary collections and wanted to show it off to visitors.

It seems it is the museums diversity, as well as the aquarium and the gardens, that seem to make it such a popular place for young families to visit as well. Aside from expecting places to be busier with families in the Easter school holidays, it does seem to be a favourite place for people to come with their young children throughout the year.

And to top it all of the gardens, and the views of London, were spectacular. Perched on top of Forest Hill as it is, with fair reaching views, it was a lovely place to be on such a lovely Spring day.

Magnolia and Quince

Quince? But it's Spring, I hear you cry! Quince is in season in November .... now is the season of Magnolia's and blossoms, not quince, surely? 

But despite being surrounded by blossoms flowering on all of the trees around me there were still quinces sitting in my pink wire cupcake stand. Gorgeous, plump and yellow, I bought them when I went into Borough Market one rainy day in November - when they were in season - and they have patiently perfumed my kitchen for months, only occasionally reprimanding me for not making them into the Membrillo I had fancied when I picked up the three for (gasp) £1.50 each. 

I was determined to use them ..... and on one gorgeous March day, when the Magnolia tree in my front garden was in full bloom, I knew the time had come when I noticed one of them was developing a brown spot. The weekend that I had to cook my quinces was here.

Firstly, I cut out the browning part of one of the quince, chopped them into small to medium sized chunks, and then covered them with water and boiled them. I mashed them up as they boiled down, making sure I kept topping them up with water.

They smelt divine.

When they resembled a pulp, I put them into a linen jelly bag and then, as I didn't have a jelly-making stand, I took the gadget free approach of wrapping the muslin around a wooden spoon and then let it drip overnight, squeezing it at intervals to hurry it along.

I was somewhat distracted the next morning by looking out at the gorgeous blossoms and feeling delighted that Spring was finally here. When I woke up the next morning, excited to finish making my Membrillo and go out and enjoy the day, I threw out the pulp and Quince flesh that was in the muslin and then looked at the recipe. I hadn't properly read the recipes that I was flitting between on the internet and realised too late that I would not be making Membrillo after all as that delicious paste had the flesh of the Quinces in it. Ooops!

So my gorgeous Quinces became gorgeous Quince Jelly. 

These happy accidents occur, and I added jam sugar, boiled the mixture, occasionally testing for a set by putting a side plate in the freezer and every so often dropping the quince jelly on it, pushing it with a fingertip to see if it wrinkled, and then greedily licking it off. 

Finally, my Membrillo turned Quince Jelly was ready to place in the jars that had been prepared in the dishwasher and there they stood, a gleaming orange, ruby, geranium, colour, ready to enjoy at last.

I could have it with slices of Manchego cheese and it still tasted nice.....

........ or by itself on wholegrain bread, with butter...........

 ..........along with a  lovely view of the blossoms out of my window.

Divine Food

It is always so lovely to have a friend invite you to dinner and to cook for you. It makes you feel so cherished and looked after.

One of my best friends truly eclipses Nigella in the kitchen, and her husband surpasses Jamie. They are fantastic cooks and even better hosts, and make you feel automatically welcome and at home.

I was so excited to go to dinner this time as they had just purchased a pasta maker AND a blowtorch and I could not wait to see the process of what was being made for dinner. I had never made pasta myself before, or seen someone use a blowtorch.

I would like to say (proudly) that I was able to hang the pasta out to dry and it was SO MUCH FUN! Who would have thought something that simple would be so much fun?

At first it was nerve-wrecking to try to separate the wet pasta strands which had just been cut through. After all, I had seen all the effort it had taken to get to that stage, and I didn't want to be the one responsible for making it collapse. But separate it did, to hang elegantly out to dry.

And we all sipped our champagne out of the stunning vintage champagne glasses until it was time to cook the freshly made pasta and stir in the delicious sauce which had been bubbling away on the stove.

And it tasted stunning!

And what better way to finish such a lovely meal than with delicious raspberry crème brúlée. We devoured them and were scrapping the bottom of our individual pots before I would have had the chance to take a photo of them. 

Divine!

The Green Country

I went for a trip to Cork for a long weekend to visit one of my bridesmaids - a thoughtful Christmas present from my husband. I had a fantastic time gossiping and catching up, exploring Cork, and being shown around some more of stunning Ireland by my lovely friend and hostess. We also went to Adare to spend some time with her brother and sister-in-law, who extended me such sincere and heart warming Irish hospitality. 

Adare Manor was absolutely breathtaking. When we arrived we had a pot of tea in the stunning manor, cosying up on a couch next to the massive fireplace, surrounded by candles.

The next day we went for a walk to admire the grounds. It was such a bright, crisp day. . . . stunning.

Adare Manor was the main attraction but there were a lot of other pleasant suprises.

From a modern sculpture of a Veteran Memorial.....

                                                                    ....... to ruins........

........ to ivy covered cottages........

We then walked into town, past the quaint thatch roofed cottages, and enjoyed a refreshment stop.

Later that day we went to the famous Limerick Milk Markets. The food smelt and looked divine. Lunch was a stunning curry from the stall Green Saffron, which served the most delicious Bombay Potatoes and Chickpea Curry that I have ever had. They also sold small sachets of Indian Spice to enhance even the dullest vegetables.

The sweets looked amazing, but I was so full I could only feast with my eyes while I sipped my latte.

It was such a wonderful weekend with great landscapes, great food and great friends. It couldn't have been any better.

Spring Flowers for Valentine's Day

It is nearly Valentine's Day, the snow has vanished, the sun is shining, the ground has thawed, and Spring is nearly officially here.

When the first Snowdrops appear, I always embrace it as the first sign of Spring. I know it is still technically winter when they flower. But it still signals Spring to me. It makes me feel so happy that the long, cold, dark days are now (nearly) behind me.

Snowdrops were my grandfather's favourite flower so there is always that thought and memory when I see them as well. Perhaps partly because of him, although I love having flowers in the house, I would never dream of picking them as they are so beautiful in the garden, there is always so few, and they have such a short life. They seem to belong just where they have appeared, etheral and fairy-like.

Today when I went into our garden, a slightly wild place with overgrown trees and ivy and a rope swing, I was once again reminded of the story 'Tom's Midnight Garden' by Philippa Pearce. We live in a top floor flat in a converted Victorian mansion, much as Mrs Bartholomew from the story, and I think that our garden has some of the romantic echo and magic of the garden she dreamed of from her youth.

When I went into it today I was delighted to see bright clumps of Spring had appeared as if by magic overnight.

There were also gorgeous purple Crocus flowers dotted around.

But it was still the Snowdrops which entranced me.

I love them in small, delicate clumps, heads bowed almost reverently, the delicate inside flower streaked with lime green, with the larger outside flower hanging protectively about them.

I love them in large clumps as well, especially when the sun shines through them, making them translucent.

I love how occassionally you can find a rogue one or two standing apart.

But mostly I love that, for me, Spring is here.



Snow on the Sphinx

Just when you think spring is finally here, that the long harsh winter is finally drawing to an end and the flowers are starting to bud and blossom, the weather can turn and plunge us right back into winter. But it usually isn't quite as dramatic as what it was this weekend, when we had heavy snow fall in London on just the right side of Valentine's Day.

I love the snow. I adore everything about it - the cold of it, the blanketing crispness of it, the feeling of walking or skiing on it, the inevitable days off work which it results in....well usually. That was the only down side this time - everyone was prepared as the snow fell on the weekend and so the roads were cleared on Monday.

Still, it felt like an extra long weekend, even when it wasn't, as snow just gives such a different perspective on things. I felt like I had been on a mini-break after I went for a long walk in Crystal Palace Park.

It was a grey and cloudy day, but it was still glorious.

The Spinxes looked more majestic and aloof than ever in the snow.

They are still guarding the stairs of the old Crystal Palace. The spinxes and stairs are all that remains of the glass and steel building that housed the Great Exhibition in 1851. The palace had been moved two years after the exhibition in Hyde Park, at a significant loss to the company (which they never recouped). It slowly declined in this location in Crystal Palace, at the top of Sydenham Hill  (then Penge Place) until it literally went up in a blaze of glory in 1936.

I can't help but wonder how fantastic it would have been to see towering glass glinting in the sunshine there. I wonder if it really did look like crystal. I know that it fell into disrepair and was not the success that had been envisioned. Perhaps that would have meant it was more eyesore and less the elegant building I would hope it to be. But one thing I know for sure.... the view over London, Kent and Surrey is still breathtaking.

I walked down the hill, past the maze ..... the ponds ...... the site of the 1909 Scout Rally in Crystal Palace which girls attended declaring themselves as Girl Scouts ........ past large expanses where people had built a range of snowmen, snow dogs and even a snow pig ......... past forts that had been built up to protect those launching snowballs.

Finally I ended up at the dinosaurs.

They were unveiled in 1854, some six years before the 'Origin of the Species' was published, and although considered largely inaccurate now they are still impressive, and must have been awe inspiring for the Victorian's to visit.

They looked right at home in the snow.

Feeling delightfully cold, it was time to go to my favourite cafe in Crystal Palace, Domali. They served me an amazing sweet potato and goats cheese pie, with the most delicious gravy I had ever tasted. I read the paper, eating a late lunch and sipping gluhwein stirred with a cinnamon stick, feeling blissfully content. I couldn't have been happier - it was though I was in a chalet on the slopes of Austria, enjoying the Apres-ski.