Sometimes I go to bed wondering what stories my dreams will tell me. Sometimes I enjoy the entertainment and other times I learn what the dream is telling me. In one dream, I was a magpie and I flew up, up, up then turned on the momentum, then swooped down as fast as I could. It was so much fun. The dream itself was great, and it’s left me wondering what it all means. While I’m thinking about that, I painted a watercolour and added the magpies digitally. They were from an earlier drawing/painting which I had scanned.
With what I hoped was a sage nod and a wise look, I announced that I was having a mental health day. I think I was the only one there at the time, so if I didn’t look too sage and wise, it doesn’t matter.
What did I do on this particular mental health day? I pottered around the house, played with watercolour on paper without actually painting anything, and then in the afternoon, I made a Custard Apple pudding. Invented it, really.
When it came out of the oven, I decided that there was no point waiting to have it for dessert, so I had it for afternoon tea just as that beautiful golden light of the setting sun appeared in the garden. It was delicious, and reminded me of Bread and Butter Pudding – except healthy! What more could anyone ask for.
Custard Apple Pudding, served hot for afternoon tea.Serve it on one of your favourite plates, because you deserve it.The golden light doesn’t last very long at this time of year. It’s important to make the most of it and go out there – be golden with the rest of the landscape.
To make the pudding, simply mix one large custard apple (take the seeds out first), four eggs, a drop of vanilla and a good shake of both nutmeg and cinnamon. Pour into a buttered dish with 3 or 4 dried figs and dried fruit of your choice. (I used sultanas, raisins and cranberries soaked in sherry.) Make a bain-marie by placing the dish in a baking tray that has water in it. This will keep the pudding nice and moist. Bake in a moderate oven for about 40 minutes. Serve hot with whipped cream.
