Rhubarb and blood orange macarons

 Although it is still, at least at times, bitterly cold it does feel like spring has at last raised its head out of the frigid depths of winter. The garden is beginning to come into bloom and the heady scent of springtime blossom seems on the cusp of arrival. The hawthorn has been the first tree to blossom, its delicate white flowers slowly filling the hedgerows and filling the air with their heady springtime perfume as the month progresses.

They were pretty enough that I went out to photograph some this afternoon, though by the end my hands were stingingly cold which reminded me that it does feel unseasonably cold for this time of year, particularly so with the heating having broken down (any thoughts of a short-sleeve shirt coming out of the wardrobe is off limits for now) and so I do feel impatient for a spell of warm weather.

At this time of year, there is still very little growing in the garden, especially for fruit, with the first early strawberries and cherries only coming into season in late May, so the crimson crown of rhubarb looks even more prominent. The tart rhubarb here is combined with blood orange in a crisp and chewy almond macaron.

Macarons actually aren't that hard; sure, they may be difficult to perfect but even the worst, most ugly batch I've made, looks aside, actually tasted delicious. I'm not an expert, nor claim to be, however here are some tips for perfect macarons:

1. Give it a bash

For a long time I made my macarons as the recipes stated, even letting them rest, yet they always came out cracked on top and I couldn't work out why. Then one day, I was looking up tips for macarons and it said to hit the baking tray to remove excess air bubbles. So, I made another batch and dutifully did as it said and, although still not perfect, the macarons didn't crack on the top - just by hitting the tray.

2. Not too stiff, not to loose
The consistency of the macaron batter should be just right: not too stiff and not too loose. I've heard it described as 'magma', you'll know it's there when if the batter is dropped from a spatula it can sink back into the mixture in 10 seconds. You should err on the side of too stiff: too thin and it will just spread out like a pancake.

3. Spread it out
When piping the macarons, make sure they are far enough apart that they won't spread into each other, 1-2 cm is about right: there's is nothing more annoying than an otherwise perfectly good batch of macarons which has merged into one.

Carrot cake

Spring is supposedly soon upon us and, although the hawthorn and wild cherry seem on the brink of coming into blossom, I think there is still some way to go. This week has rained and poured and, well, more rain (at one point there were even a few out-of-place flurries of snow) until the ground was sodden and puddles abound. I feel like I spent the most of the week staring at the rhythmic puttering of rain drops on the window sill, watching them slowly form into miniature streams running down the pane.

The last withered echinaceas

I guess because although it seems like months of cold and wet weather, most of it has only been a kind of cold, miserable drizzle with the little actually rain. So for all this I think it did the garden good, with everything feeling decidedly more verdant and refreshed.

A first attempt at 'chiaroscuro' photography

For the photography, I did some usual shots and then, for the overhead photo I tried 'chiaroscuro' style. Basically this (I am told) involves using a much darker shot with a few highlights to give emphasis on things. I was trying to emulate the style of photographs on Desserts for Breakfast, particularly the over-head shots, although in comparison they seem much... lighter. I quite like the shot but I think I need to angle the light better, which is surprisingly difficult to do with the lack of it, but it was fun giving it a go (and also trying to balance a black sheet and a reflector at the same time as holding the tripod steady).

Rain droplets on a leek

So, not quite ready to open-armedly welcome spring, and ice creams and fruit tarts and chilled soups, I decided to stick with a comforting and ever so slightly stodgy cake. Unlike a traditional carrot cake this is much lighter and without a cream cheese frosting, taking inspiration from Scandinavian style spice cakes. Serve it warm with a dollop of crème fraiche as a dessert or have it cold as a cake.