Today I’ve had a day off. In fact I have two days which means combined with the upcoming bank holiday I’ve managed to sneak five days at home in a row. It’s been a while since I’ve managed that, and I’m feeling rather smug about it.
I’m mostly using the time to “get stuff done” which actually tends to mean spending the entire time in the kitchen. Not content with having spent the last two weeks at work frantically in the kitchens making batch after batch of jam, the first thing I planned for this morning was to make jam. Not just any jam; wedding jam.
Like the over ambitious sort that I am, when the suggestion of having a wedding cake was floated I knew that I’d have to get involved in some way. My immediate thought was to roll up my sleeves and offer to make it. Fortunately Mr L talked me down off that ledge reminding me that it would be a whole different kitchen, and oven, and country, not to mention it would be the day before the wedding and it was possible that maybe, little bit, there’ll be other things to be getting on with.
So I stepped graciously (okay, reluctantly) away from that idea and went back to pondering. I’d already suggested the recipe and flavour that I hoped they could produce right down the jam flavour for the filling. Then it struck me, the jam! Obviously it couldn’t possibly be a cake at our wedding filled with jam that wasn’t mine. That’s just wrong.
Which is why I find myself in the kitchen today, up to my elbows in red plums and rosemary. My signature flavour, which the chef in Italy has said he needs over five litres of in order to fill the cake sufficiently. That wouldn’t be particularly daunting if I didn’t have to then transport it to the wedding venue in my suitcase!
It’ll be worth it though to slice into our cake and have it filled with the most delicious marmellata di nozze (wedding jam) that a bride could hope for.
If those jars don’t break during my flight and cover my honeymoon wardrobe in red sticky fragrant goop that is.