Monday, November 18, 2013


The second broken plate in my unintended collection. A vintage dinner plate I've possessed for many years cracked under the heat of pressure, leaving the centre in perfect knick. I couldn't part with it being so cute, and incidentally, it used to hang on the wall as part of a blue and white plate display on the Greek white washed wall in the worker's cottage kitchen in Sydney. Downsizing is good.


So... (yes, never begin a sentence with a conjunction).... onto a cheese sandwich before dinner after the savage daisy slaughter here at the bach. Yum! This is my florist friend's divine quince jelly. I obtained a second jar recently after quietly giving Sue back the cleaned empty from previous devourings. Is that a word? It is "to die for" as the Americans say, and perhaps I will! It was created very funkily I've been told, strung up over the chef's shower. I'm still trying to get the recipe.  

Perfectly cracked and almost a heart shape.

No comments: