Anticlimax. Antithesis. Polar opposites. Diametrically opposed. This was my very weekend. One moment I’m complaining about ‘no harmattan’, and the next morning I’m the glorious recipient of a cold wave when I open my front door – ‘Harmattan’ has officially arrived. So now I can make my declaration ‘Its time to get ready for Christmas’....
New York. Fruitcake. Me. I’m in New York. Again. I arrived via Paris a few days ago. Via Paris because if you had a choice to transit through a European city, you too would choose Paris over Frankfurt. Even over Amsterdam. Just for some great, if rubbery airplane bread. And wonderful cheeses. And Fromage Frais....
No corny statements about how quickly Christmas has come this year.No, none. Only cake. A fruit cake. The likes of which I’ve never made before. Dreamt of making….yes but one of those dreams which die hard and early. I grew up with Fruitcakes every Christmas, lovingly made by Mrs O, a friend of my mum’s....