Oven Moments and Christmas Madness

 

A man is a very small thing, and the night is very large and full of wonders.

Lord Dunsany

Hello, Lovelies.

I had a very late night last night. After a busy day and appointments that ran into the evening, I realised that I still needed to bake two last fruitcakes – a new recipe that is gluten, sugar and dairy free. All the prep had been done – so it was really just a matter of assembling the final ingredients, preparing my tins and chucking everything in the oven.

Ah, I thought to myself, two extra hours of being up. It’s nearly Christmas. I have no other time to do it. I’ll just pop them in the oven and then do other things.

Of course, when the two hours were up my cakes were still half-cooked.

Ben had gone to bed, the dogs were snoring, it was late, late late, but I couldn’t leave my cakes unfinished.

And so began a couple of the loveliest hours of the season. I meditated in my quiet house, redolent with Christmas spice and that wonderful fragrance of festive baking.

When my meditation was done I sat in the quiet, dark loungeroom with just the Christmas tree lights for company, waiting for these big dense cakes to cook through.

I poured myself a small drink, and I sat and thought about all the people I love, all the loved ones I have lost (some so recent), and all the things for which I am grateful. It was blissful, having this time to myself, doing things I love for people I love.

Finally, my baking was ready.
I pulled the tins from the oven, poured a splash of rum over the hot cakes, wrapped them in towels to slowly cool, and then I showered in the dark and put myself to bed.

After the madness that has been the last two crazy-busy months, my slow quiet night of cooking and contemplation was a special kind of restorative magic.

I hope you can find a few pockets of calm for yourself this week too.
Love, cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves, Nicole xx