For K’s birthday, I made a cake with all things he likes – vanilla, extremely important; ghee and lots of it, a little different from the usual butter; a single flavour sponge that is simple, elegant and without too much sweetness. And a Mangalore ghee cake which I had been wanting to try for a long time now fitted this perfectly. I also wanted to bake him something different from the usual favourites I make for him: carrot cake without frosting, Victorian sponge with frosting ofcourse or a coffee cake (we love Anita’s @a_madteaparty coffee cake a lot!) and this turned out lovely – spongy, not too sweet at all and can definitely tell the ghee.
I followed Jason’s recipe, just used lesser egg. I have never had a Mangalore ghee cake so I will wait to try one before saying how alike they taste but I loved this version and texture and even Ishoo who rarely eats cakes or sweets, liked this enough to eat two small slices. Also equally important when baking birthday cakes is they HAVE to be Mili friendly. She is the first to appear for cake cutting anyway, even before the cake is rested on the table. To top it all, this cake matched what Ishoo wanted for his papa – a brown, white, vanleela cake!
You are looking at the first chilli that arrived this season on a plant that was not doing so well to start with. We had just transplanted it when it soon started having white bugs on the leaves and the leaves started to show signs of wilting. I did my usual and my only form of remediation really, with the neem spray and keeping a close watch. One thing that my few years in the garden and more years with children have taught me is to persist and hold on. I hold on with hope but sometimes you need a different kind of faith and magic to turn things around and that was Ishoo’s sticker. When the plant stood as tall as it could and we were talking about how it is being brave, even with a boo-boo, Ishoo slapped a sticker on the soil and said “well done, chilli plant”. And of all the chilli plants in the garden, this little fellow produced the first chilli and promises more. It has rained a few times, we have watered the plant everyday and the sun has been ablaze, but the sticker has stayed put and continues to do its magic since the day a little boy heaped a tender heartfelt praise for this chilli plant.
Following on from where we left off, we drove to Bourton on the Water for breakfast at Croft, by the riverside. I had Belgian waffles with berry compote and dairy free yoghurt while K had some egg Florentine.
We have been to Bourton on the water few years ago with a friend and this is what I remembered of it – lovely walks by the river and endless coffees. It is such a different feeling going to the same place with two littles in tow. We absolutely soaked up the golden sun that morning and walked until we stumbled on a farmers’ market!
The streets were super colourful and cheerful, it felt like everyone was out celebrating the sun!
I was looking for tiny quaint villages in the the north of Cotswolds, villages that are really small and not big market towns and definitely ones we had never visited until then. That is how I stumbled on Lower and Upper Slaughter, the twin villages about a couple of miles away from the more popular Bourton on the Water. And ofcourse, the fact that registered with me is how the word Slaughter came up – definitely nothing to do with slaughtering, it is derived from the old English word “slothre” that means “muddy place” which I can assure you along with every other article on the internet, it most certainly is not.
What it is though, is ethereal.
My research had told me of how scanty parking space is and all of my searches only threw up one road near the Manor House and said there are only a few spots available. And so we found ourselves there at 8 in the morning, with just one or two joggers who were residents, in sight. Bliss.
We parked by a stream that I later realised is the river Eye that runs through the village and was potentially the source of “muddy” banks. It really looks like a stream though it is a river. Walking along the river is one of the most memorable highlights of our entire trip.
I was in love with those beautiful stone foot bridges! You will find a couple as you walk along.
To watch the reflection in that pristine glass like water as we (read: I) tried to be as quiet as possible because I wanted to break into a song and announce to the world of how much beauty there is to be discovered all around us! I am sure the residents would not take too kindly to it, so I was on my best behaviour.
As you start walking further up along Copse Hill road which according to some of the sources has been voted the prettiest road in Britain, you cannot help falling in love with this beautiful village but also wonder how the residents must feel when it gets all busy with tourists. It is not easy being a resident in picturesque towns, is it?
I was really mesmerised by this style of stone houses – hundreds of homes across Cotswolds built in this distinctive style with Cotswold stone. This must have been so time consuming to build and yet stands tall and strong to this day! I was trying to read more about how these stones are formed (makes for a fascinating read, especially so when you are procrastinating on something) and I stumbled on these words by J. B. Priestley who wrote of Cotswold stone that – “the truth is that it has no colour that can be described. Even when the sun is obscured and the light is cold, these walls are still faintly warm and luminous, as if they knew the trick of keeping the lost sunlight of centuries glimmering about them.”
As you walk along, you will reach the unmissable Old Mill with its trade mark red brick tower and the water wheel.
If you just turn around, you will walk into this charming little horse trailer that doubles as the delightful mobile coffee van and sells some delicious coffee and pastries. What warmed my heart was they have doggie treat and smoothies for the infants/toddlers all served with a smile by the thoughtful owner.
We kept walking further up and had the most peaceful town to savour that morning.
We were peckish and decided to turn back and try the beautiful Manorhouse for breakfast but unfortunately it was only open to residents so we just had a quick look around and decided to head to Bourton on the Water for some breakfast and explore the market centre. All of that in my next one!
I am always blown away by how beautiful Cotswolds is. Quaint, charming, idyllic, oddly familiar from the books and movies you watched and imagined a place to be, and ofcourse, incredibly picturesque. I had read of Castle Combe’s charm a few times I looked up the villages to be at in North Cotswolds so we had to make a trip there and am so so happy we did. It is a tiny town, nestled most rightfully within the Cotswolds Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. The chocolate box village is characterized by its honey-hued Cotswold stone cottages, some dating back to the 12th century. These quaint buildings line the narrow, winding streets and everything looks right out of a fairy tale. I later read that possibly, no new houses have been built in this historic centre of the village since about 1600.
We parked atop the hill in the visitor’s car park and it is such a lovely walk down to the village with the autumnal colours transforming the landscape into a tapestry of oranges and gold!
I always wonder how the people residing here must feel, having tourist stare admiringly at the streets, their houses, taking pictures and soaking what is often referred to as one of the prettiest villages in England. It must not be easy 🙂
Within a few steps, we were met by the beautiful Bybrook river flowing gracefully through the heart of the town and beautifully highlights the stunning Cotswold stone cottages against that rich backdrop that no phot can truly capture.
While Castle Combe gets its name from the castle, I am told that nothing much remains of it so we didn’t really explore anything beyond the heart of the town and its quaint streets which while not totally empty didn’t really have many tourists that day.
We were utterly famished when we stepped into the Castle Inn late that afternoon. It is at such a fantastic location for visitors to have a nice stroll and then step in for a meal or drink. I had a super delicious rosti with portobello mushroom, cavolo Nero (my first of the season), cheese topped with an egg – it was just so good! We shared a panna cotta served with a yummy Garibaldi biscuit.
We did another small walk near the square and headed back, happily full from this beautiful village, a feast for all senses.
When we decided to go away for a surprise weekend away with the littles in Cotswolds, I knew we wanted to stay in a home. It is my preferred way of holidaying these days, especially after Mili and Ishaan have come into our lives. Don’t get me wrong, I love me a good buffet breakfast and a midnight room service and not having to do the dishes. But I more love the prospect of being in a place that someone made a home of, the idea of cooking in a new kitchen and whipping utterly simple meals with local produce, the thought of waking up to someone else’ garden views, the joy of sometimes making friends with a new temporary neighbour and the absolutely divine feeling of having figured how the places come together on your last day of the trip when roads to your home away from home, start to feel familiar. But most importantly, I love how someone else thinks of what a home should be like for a stranger who has chosen to stay at theirs and pour their thoughtfulness into it, in the small corners that bring the living room together, in the fireplace that smells of yours, in the kitchen that overlooks the road where the horses clippety clop away at about 7:30 in the morning as you brew your coffee, in the extremely well positioned baskets with blankets that always seem to be within your arms’ reach and the open spaces that let your crowded mind relax.
We stayed at the beautiful Daylesford cottage in Barton on Heath, very close to Moreton on Marsh, a part of north Cotswolds we had never been to. Here is what greeted us on arrival.
I really miss taking pictures of farmers’ market finds. So here is the latest one. The purple cauli is absolutely lovely, a bit sweeter and on cooking becomes a little chewy (not in a draggy way but just different from a white cauliflower). The peaches and nectarines have arrived as have some delicious tender marrows (love a light pan fry on them with a knob if butter). I have to make @d.srujan peach salsa. I haven’t grown broad beans for 2 years now but it feels lovely to bring some fresh ones home and look up an interesting way to cook them. This time, we found enticing litchis and they have lived up to our imagination. We are big litchi lovers here, such a beautiful flavour profile it has so we buy over priced ones from super markets often so this was a nice surprise. I always pick oyster mushrooms because they are delightful in Kodava kumme curry so everytime we bring them, it is a default dish with piping hot rice. Tender cucumbers for Ishaan, snap peas for Mili always. I love this trip so much, it is also a trip I absolutely dislike being rushed so if I go to a farmers’ market it is always with enough time to admire every produce. I start with a pragmatic mind that leaves me 5 minutes in, as I throw the last bit of restraint whatsoever far far away and chug the growing cart in absolute glee. Thank God for fresh produce and families that recognise you with a smile. .
I finished reading this and did this come at an incredibly needed hour. Books do find you because I have had this in my collection for so long now and yet chose this moment to pick this up hoping it would be a balm to my senses that seem to be pulled in very many directions each day, from the joy of the simple and the routine to the sadness of the loss of the simple and routine for many to an absolute disdain for the inhumanly acts only humans are capable of and the anger at having to watch it all. But if you were to watch from the big tree far away, everything seems to move on, as if untouched. Eddie’s story is of not just survival but he champions the power that hope brings in the darkest and most dreadful of times. It is a story of how you do everything to squeeze out that last ounce of innate strength and keep going for the light at the end of the darkest tunnel. Eddie highlights the most simple and profound truths and remind us of what truly matters in life. His stories are vivid, uncomplicated and there is a quiet dignity to the book that made me hold onto it. He starts with “my dear friend”, and that is how I left feeling.
Days at the Morisaki Bookshop
By now, you know my love for Japanese writing and well done translations. I love how familiar, simple, relatable conversations are dealt in simple yet profound ways. The ones I have read are not exactly fast paced, infact, the lives move with slow deliberation and it is exactly that kind of pace that gets me every time.
The Days at the Morisaki Bookshop follows Takako, who quits her day job and her relationship. It is at this point, she receives an invitation from her uncle whom she considers quirky/unrelatable, to move into the apartment on top of his bookshop, which changes the trajectory of her life. Her uncle whose wife leaves him without any explicit reason, lives and manages the bookshop alone. The book has two parts – the first one around Takako finding her next steps and the second one is about the uncle’s wife coming back and reasons behind her departure and return.
It is as much a book about finding your ground as it is about connecting with and re-learning about people whom you’d already formed an opinion of. This book is magical in its own way, different from the kind of magical feeling that “Before the coffee gets cold” evoked in me. This magic is in its comfort, in the characters who feel so endearing and real, in the books, bookshops and coffee that wraps you in a warm embrace letting you cozily engage with a very well written and translated story. I recommend
Siddhartha Street
Here is the thing about rain. It evokes something poignant and nostalgic and wishful all at once if I only sat by the window and watched it hit the ground. Slowly surely and in an oddly comforting way that does not seem extraordinary at first but then I sort of begin to realise how this is exactly the kind of quiet that I have been busy for. I am talking of a drizzle that gains and loses momentum as you get lost in a world thousands of miles and sometimes, years away. The extraordinariness of the ordinary and the familiar is something that energises you and reminds you of a self you may sometimes forget in the humdrum of life. Like this book and its stories. Simple, everyday movements that seem slow and set in environments that seem so familiar that I started imagining my street, my neighbours we knew but not necessarily the stories that came with them. The book touches on an event in the lives of different neighbours along Siddhartha Street through slow, everyday actions that are visible to a naked eye and through conversations and emotions that reveal the story behind them all. A lovely read that I finished long back but the rain today reminded me of my street and then this book. Rain does that to you, takes you to places and people and books in the deepest corners
Nobody will tell you this but me
I cannot remember a single day when I haven’t played back something a loved one has told me in the past or imagined what they’d tell me in a situation am in. For no reason at all, sometimes when I sit down with my coffee (okay this one is not exactly as calm every time), I rewind to a conversation with someone who is far away. This experience itself can be sweet, bittersweet, funny, poignant – anything. Imagine writing this all down – all these conversations real and hypothetical (because you can do that when you know someone really well) into a memoir – that is what Bess has done, giving us a glimpse into the life – love, laughter, legacy and all with her grandmother. I absolutely loved the grandmother’s character as Bess outlines it – such a strong personality, opinionated, humorous, knowing exactly what needs knowing. I loved the message she reinforces throughout, “If the earth is cracking behind you, you put one foot in front of the other.” I love memoirs, stories, the simple stuff. They teach us things that matter, in a manner that stays and a relatedness that makes you pause. This one made me laugh and teary and in an odd way comforted me about how people never pass. They live on within you, in those memories you made with them and through the words and moments you shared with them. And they live on in others too, through the memories you share of them.
I have been really touched by some beautiful books recently. While I have been reading some academic material and re-reading children’s literature, I have missed reading. You know what I mean? 🙂 Somehow the brain compartmentalises reading so it is not enough if you have been reading anything. I have stopped fighting it but I have missed it.
So when I laid my hands on this beautiful epistolary novel, I dived right in. I love letters, reading them, writing them and waiting for them. And every night for the past few nights, I have sparingly read a few letters that transpire between two beautiful women who write to each other of their culinary experiments, of their little escapades, of the people they met and of life itself. I have waited to appreciate the friendship that blossoms through their letters, a bond that had me in tears from being overwhelmed at how beautiful life is and how little is needed to feel that sense of absolute delight. Ironical, isn’t it? And I wept at the end at how intertwined lives can get when you devote your everything as you write a letter. Not a phone call, not a message but a letter that requires you to sit still and let your ink flow to your mind and nothing else, as you reflect and confide. I remembered my own letters to a friend who was a nurse in the same hospital as my aunt. All our letters were in Kannada and after sending a letter of mine, I’d wait and wait with utter impatience for the postman and I was never disappointed. We wrote until she confided in me of how things were changing for her and that her address and letters are no longer certain. But I am so happy for that phase of my life and wonder why I didn’t do it more.
Kim Fay @kimkfay has written such a beautiful piece and inspired by real people. As much as I wanted to devour it all in one go, I didn’t. I waited every night for bedtime and read only a few letters and I’d wait for the next. And the whole wait was so tearfully worth it. And I am sharing this with you as I enjoy some saffron which K very thoughtfully brought back from Dubai. My very own Love and Saffron 🙂
Sweet Bean Paste
I read this book a while ago when A posted about how she couldn’t stop thinking about it. I am so grateful for this recommendation because it is one beautiful book, another evocative Japanese writing that truly touches on a multitude of intense issues with a clarity so simple and eye opening.
In writing about the unlikely bond that develops between a formerly incarcerated confectionary shop worker who makes dorayakis, a 78 year old woman he hires and a troubled teen girl who visits, he brings out the stigmas that prevailed in Japan around health and the kind of impact they had.
The story drives home a beautiful message on acceptance and understanding and therefore inclusion. ‘That’s why I made confectionery. I made sweet things for all those who lived with the sadness of loss. And that’s how I was able to live out my life.’
One of the things I have admired in people who do the same thing for years AND take pride in it, is the devotion. Cooking for example. It takes a lot to be so observant, skillful and driven to keep at it consistently. To know it all, like the back of your hand, to hear the ingredients speak and to watch them change. Meaningful work is not necessarily monetarily profitable work, not always. And to make something with joy and for joy just humbles me. And that belief was rekindled in me.
Why do we live? What purpose does a cruelly short life have? Or one with sickness? Or one that is ostracised? When Tokue answers this in the most profound and simple way, it left me thinking for days on. Each of our existence gives the universe its purpose. Everything else exists because you exist. And you exist to give it meaning.
To celebrate, I finished the last pages of the book with a dorayaki with sweet bean paste that I spent a few hours searching for. I will never forget the way this book made me feel.
Before the Coffee gets Cold
One Wednesday not long ago, I took an hour off early morning and went for coffee at a restaurant a few hops away. My favourite coop was empty and as I sat down, the staff who was fixing a coffee smiled widely at me, “I’ll be with you in a mo”. I peeled my layers off, took my book out and sat. As promised, she was with me, “would you like some coffee or tea?” The eeriness of the striking similarity between what I was reading and my context hit me so hard and I must have smiled so amusingly at her as I told her how lovely coffee would be, because she went away without asking me what kind of coffee I wanted. The book is set in a cafe that lets you travel back in time with a few conditions, one of the most important ones being the inability to change the present. The rules get clearer as one advances further in the book through different stories. It traces the stories of four different characters as they travel back in time for various reasons despite this knowledge and it struck me that while a lot of us think wistfully of a time bygone, we often want to go back and change our decisions and actions in the hope of bettering the present. But there is much more to it, in these stories. It is about changing or saying something despite the knowledge that the present will remain the same if only because it lends a different meaning to the lives involved. Even if there is nothing that one can do to change the circumstance, there is so much one can do to make people feel better about it, about themselves. And that alone makes the journey worthwhile. While the concept seems out of the ordinary, the author approaches some of the most sensitive topics with a clarity so simple that is so characteristic of some of the Japanese fiction I have read.
As I write this, I cannot help longing for this very morning when the restaurant staff served me the most amazing filter coffee with some milk on the side as if she knew that it was what I wanted. I’d go back to this very morning and change nothing at all ❤️
I have been long wanting to document our travels and yet I have never gotten to doing them, despite making a beginning. This time I am determined to not let the trip to Dorset and Cornwall slip away in the endless gallery on my phone. So if you are reading this, I know that I have at least persisted with my beginning.
A while ago, K applied for his paternity leave and we had decided we would do a holiday together, our first long one since Ishaan’s arrival. Not having explored the English coastline at all, we decided to spend a few days in Cornwall. Now a trip to Cornwall is about 4 hours from where we live and we didn’t want to have Ishaan in the car seat for so long even if we were taking breaks. And so it was decided a day before the trip that we would look for a place enroute for a day trip and stay the night there before moving onward.
We picked Dorset with its beautiful Jurassic Coast.
On our way, the staff from the glamping site gave us a call to confirm when we were likely to reach. The office closes at 5 PM so it definitely helps to plan your arrival before then or let the office know so your check in is arranged even when the office is closed.
That is just as we entered the glamping site. The directions are very straightforward and right at the entrance is the office (cum shop) to check in and pick up the keys.
As we drove in, we were met by this beautiful sight. I have never glamped before so these adorable eco friendly pods that dotted the green had me all excited!
One can park right next to their pod or across it – there is plenty of space. We were living off the car so as to keep our pod free from too many things and so parked right by the pod.
This is what you walk into – it is cozy and perfect for two. Now with four of us, two adults and two babies this was definitely a sort of adventure because the pods do not have a bath/restroom inside them. One needs to walk out to shared baths/toilets which by the way are very very well maintained. We have never stayed in a set up like this before so the novelty of it all was really exciting.
Needless to say, the pods are pet friendly and it is great given how much field there is to walk around. As always, Mili got her Sherlock cap on the minute we entered and picked her bed. That was a pull-out bed as well so it can in theory it can sleep 4 people.
It was quite the rainy thunderous night and only Ishaan slept well. But that was a much better situation than none of us sleeping at all.
The thing about glamping especially for absolute amateurs like us is how often we tend to forget some really fundamental items to pack because they are almost always available in the accommodation. However since moving to UK and choosing to spend holidays in cottages, we remember to pack the basic stuff well. Still, one of the things we really appreciated on this glamping site was having a shop that was well stocked with everything that one would need – toiletries, snacks, doggie biscuits and treats, baby calpol too! But they went several steps ahead and had a bakery where they sold fresh croissants, bread and swirls in the mornings for breakast. We loved their pain au chocolat. The coffee was very decent too.
I even managed to pick some local goodies from there – Dorset knobs and some honey marshmallows from a lady who made them in her home nearby.
In the evening, as we stood out and looked at the views behind our pod, we saw these caravans, some really well furnished and it felt strangely familiar. I had been reading some stories based on van lifers, in fact I had one right with me here to read on the trip.
I have often wondered what it must feel like, this life on the move quite literally. Are there more opportunities to pause when you are on a move like this? How liberating it must be to live with exactly what you need, to constantly look up for new places to explore! Certainly it is not wrought without challenges but the charm is very tempting.
I leave you with this. Our little Mili, always up for a journey. She loves home, she didn’t have great sleep in the pod but – there is always a wag in her tail, a spring in her step and an infectious spirit every time we say, “Let’s go!”
Life and Times of Piyu 