Sweet Mary was going to be at a very special market this weekend but unfortunately it has had to be postponed. However, the following weekend I will be at the Craft&Design market held around the Hawthorne Coffee shop. I will post details nearer to the time.

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Ginger Crunch

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Ginger Crunch - a New Zealand classic with a twist. Lois Daish ( much missed food writer for The Listener a couple of years back) says this version is from the Wholemeal Cafe in Takaka. It is absolutely delicious. Two good sized pieces have been eaten rather quickly already. Base: 150g butter 2 tbsp golden syrup 3/4 cup soft brown sugar 3/4 cup desiccated coconut 1 1/2 cups rolled oats 3/4 cup plain flour 1 1/2 tsp baking powder 2 tsp ground ginger Preheat oven to 175C Line a 20x30cm slice tin Put butter, golden syrup and sugar in pan and melt gently together. Remove pan from heat and mix in all the other ingredients. Press into tin and bake for 15 minutes - I find if I go over this time it goes too crunchy when cool. Mark into squares while still warm and spread with icing. Leave to cool completely (if you can!) before cutting through icing. Icing: 60g butter 120g icing sugar 2 level tbsp golden syrup 3 tsp ground ginger Melt together and beat till smooth.
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Te Koha organic, biodynamic wool, fresh from the sheep. Cleaning and sorting the wool to use in my lavender and wool filled pincushions, see the previous post. One gorgeous pile of the softest, sweetest smelling wool for me to use. Now to the story which my friend Bev, of "French Street Plum Jam" fame, told me last week. I have typed it out exactly as it was written: I was five years old when my mum invited me and my five siblings to go wool picking and the wool would be made into half-quilts for our beds. Mum would make a picnic of fresh homemade bread, butter from our churn and delicious plum jam made into sandwiches and a bottle of cordial for each child which we stuffed into our leather school bags and slung over our shoulders. In our hand we each carried a sugar sack to gather our wool in. We walked up hills and around the fence lines picking the wool off the barbed wire fences where the sheep had stopped to scratch, leaving behind little tufts of wool snagged on the...
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