'You're turning into a little chef' Annie declare as I remove my latest pie out of the oven.
'I have no choice. We have so many cherries this year I have to use them up, and we like a good fruit pie with a dollop of custard don't we? I quickly put the hot pie on the side counter and stand back to admire it and smell the baked pastry and fruit.
'Can I have some custard please?' asks Lottie the whippet who is sitting at my feet starring straight into my eyes and trying to hypnotize me into submission.
'Later, when it's cooled down' I respond.
'I like custard cold. You don't have to warm it up for me.' Lottie's eyes now move from mine to the custard on the counter and then back to me.
'Later!'
The tone of my voice is enough, and Lottie sulks off to find somewhere among her many cushions, beds and rugs to wait.She turns her head at the kitchen entrance to look back as if to check there isn't a last minute reprieve. She then resigns herself to having to wait and finds a position where she can sit and watch the kitchen for movement. We don't have doors on the kitchen, so Lottie has a number of rugs and cushion spots she uses to watch for food opportunities. All whippets would eat you out of house and home if given half the chance. They may look skinny and underfed, but they can always find somewhere to put every scrap on offer.
'So what are you going to do with the rest of the cherries?' Asks my my wife Annie as she looks at the large bowl of ripe cherries that remain uncooked and didn't make it into this pie.
'Cherry crumble?' I offer, thinking there must be masses of recipes online.
'What about cherry chutney/' Annie suggests with a large smile, which either says she is happy of the thought of chutney, or she is winding me up.'I think you can put cherries in rum, vodka or other liquors and add spices to make a sort of heavy-duty cocktail or punch ingredient' I suggest.
'Now we are talking' Annie responds as she moves over to the cupboard where all the freezer tubs and pots are kept and opens it to browse its contents. 'Now, I am sure we had some Kilner jars somewhere/'
'There's also jam' I suggest.
Now half the contents of the cupboard are on the counter and Annie has the bit between her teeth in her search for those jars.
'No, I like the idea of the cherries preserved in vodka,' says Annie proudly holding up a large Kilner jar. 'Just need to sterilise this and we are away.'
Lottie amble quietly into the kitchen to see what progress has been made and whether it's custard time.
'Can we have a taste of this pie to make sure its sweet enough and ready?' I suggest bringing two bowls and spoons eagerly across to the pie.
'You followed the recipe?' Annie asks.
'What recipe?' I rely with a smile.
The crust gives way to the spoon's advances and a spoonful of juice and small piece of fruit is extracted. I offer first taste to my tasting expert. No not Lottie, but Annie.
Her eyes roll, lips smack and she declares,' Perfect.'
I don't wait and two bowls soon contain the right proportion of fruit, crust and a dollop of custard. Each has been awarded a spoon and chef an extra piece of pie, but before they are taken out of the kitchen to be consumed I put a dollop of cold custard into Lottie's bowl.
Five minutes later we are all content, sitting on the sofa. Mind you Lottie is looking towards the empty bowls and asking herself if there is any licking needed.
The big question is what we will do not with the next load of cherries, but the red and black currants, gooseberries, loganberries and rhubarb. These will continue to bear fruit all summer and that is without the masses of blackberries alongside the path to the allotments. Finally, there is my neighbour's Kiwi fruit which I am looking after whilst she is in isolation. It has been heavily laden with flowers and I am watering and watching it and hoping for fruit from it. It has never flowered before so fingers crossed.
The allotment just keeps giving.
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