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Time For Some Not Fake Food.

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I want to introduce you to my 2014 Christmas cake. This is the cake that started it.
As you can see, it’s a mess.
At the time of making it, I was coping with a serious diagnosis, the first sessions of treatment and was feeling sick, discouraged and as weak as a kitten. But I ‘had’ to make a Christmas cake because I always have made one. Buying one or doing without was out of the question, despite my husband’s entreaties not to be an idiot. It was crazy; I admit it. But I simply had to make the cake. Slowly and with many stops to rest, I managed to bake the cake, ice it and, as I was carrying it to the storeroom, in its tin, I lost my balance and fell. The tin stayed shut but the cake was shattered. As you can imagine, I was desperately upset. And then, as I tried to patch the shattered cake back together—while pushing away two beagles who wanted to help clear it up with great enthusiasm— my first tears of frustration stopped and I began to laugh. I laughed and laughed and laughed. I pat…

Cooking With Spelt.

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I try and eat as healthily as I can, for a given value of 'Oh for God's sake!' when the gluten-free, sugar-free, yeast-free, vegan, lactose-free (and sometimes even raw) effort collapses in the dish either before, during or after cooking or dehydrating. I will point out here that I am not vegan nor vegetarian so you will be facing bacon on this blog.

Like now.

This is a quiche made with with spelt flour. I love cooking with spelt and it tastes delicious and this turned out pretty well

It's a half-and-half quiche in that the left-hand side has cow cheese and the right-hand side has goat cheese. Luckily I only have slight intolerances so I can do that sort of thing — and it helps my husband who is an old-fashioned bloke when it comes to food and who finds quinoia, dehydrated kale and such stuff scarier than spiders in the bath.*

I also make wraps with just spelt, seasoning and a little water, flatten them with my bare hands and dry fry and they are just gorgeous.

Recipe:

30…
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For the Love of Dog© Maggy Whitehouse 2016.
Chapter One. I am 39 years old and I am out of nice. I have done nice all of my life. I have been an angel. I have looked on the bright side. I have compromised and helped. I have done pathetic. I have done the tears. But I ran out of nice about six weeks ago. It’s gone, vanished, simply disappeared. I don’t know where it went and, of course, as I don’t have it any more, I don’t give a toss about losing it. It’s quite comforting really. Not in a nice way, obviously. It’s simply different. There is not a cell in my body which has not felt the pendulum swing. That is why I am currently holding up a queue of perfectly pleasant people at Heathrow airport and refusing to get on an aeroplane. Yes, they are going to miss their take-off slot; yes, they are all going to be inconvenienced and yes, quite a few people are getting seriously irritated. But they cannot go without me without even a further delay because my luggage is on board. What is not on boar…

The Best Christmas Market...Yet.

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When I lived in Birmingham, I used to go to the German Christmas Market in Victoria Square; it was an interesting sparkle of an experience but there really never was much that I wanted to buy—or eat, for that matter.
So when we moved here, to Devon, and I discovered that Exeter had a Christmas Market in the Cathedral Square, I wasn’t all that keen...but I do like to get Christmas cards from the cathedral and you don’t have much of an option if you want to visit St. Peter’s in November or December; you can’t get there without encountering the market.
And what a market it is! So far it’s my favourite. Ever. Okay, I’ve only been to about six and I’m going to Italy next week so I’ll report back on the Florence and Lucca Christmas Markets which may be stunningly incredible but, trust me, if I like a Christmas Market, then it’s a good one. I’m a total Christmas shopping cynic.
How much of a cynic? So much so that I don’t agree with the concept of chocolate Advent calendars. Advent is about wai…