Strawberry Thyme Semifreddo

It started two years ago. On a hot, sunny day, I happened to notice a little bird sitting atop a water tap, on the side of the building. The tap was shut and it wasn't as if any water was dripping from it and yet this birdie has its beak inside the tap, trying to access whatever little moisture it could get to. It made for stark imagery. Man and his unempathetic concrete jungle had not only taken away their natural habitat by cutting down most of the trees but hadn't even left them any watering holes to survive. For someone who doesn't deal too well with Summer's excruciating heat, I took it awfully personally. 

The next morning, I stopped at the potter's and picked up a terracotta bowl that was filled with water and placed outside the kitchen. I know a lot of people do it but it was a first time for me. For the first few days, no one stopped by. And then, one fine day as I made my morning coffee, I peeked out to find this red whiskered bulbul, sitting on top of the bowl. It hopped on and off the bowl, looked around, dipped its beak into the water, once and then again and then flew off. The city dweller in me looked on transfixed. I may have put out the bowl of water for the birds but the joy was all mine.

Not just the bulbul, a whole lot of different birds have stopped by, each with their unique birdsong, from the shrill to the musical. And they have a little order and schedule among themselves for when they stop by. And as the days get hotter, I've watched one of the bulbuls fluttering in the water, taking a little bath to cool off while the much bigger crow pheasant simply plonk itself into the water, whilst dislodging much of it. Some have gotten used to us, others, mostly the smaller ones, fly away at the smallest sound from us. And not just the birds, I've even seen the odd squirrel drop by for a drink.

And before you think it, no, I've not become a crazy bird lady but I will admit to a small pleasure in hearing the birds outside while we go about the mundane inside. 

Usually once the rains arrive, they come by in lesser numbers and again pick up when the days get drier and hotter after the Winter. And that's usually my signal that Summer has arrived. And I got that signal last week.

If you know me a little, you know I'd love to launch into a rant about it but I'll leave that for another day because we all know there's a long, hot Summer ahead and I'll have my say one day. Instead, I made a strawberry thyme semifreddo over the weekend. The absolute last of the strawberries are in the market and this Winter, I had success with growing thyme, so this semifreddo recipe from Samantha Seneviratne's book seemed just the thing to ease the misery of Summer that seems to arrive earlier each year. 

The addition of thyme adds a herby touch when you encounter it but in no way does it overwhelm. If you don't want to use thyme, mint would be a excellent substitute. The addition of herbs gives a tiny savoury note to the dessert, a trend that is increasingly popular these days. 

A slice of the semifreddo served with some fresh strawberries is a celebration of the fruit and a beautiful, fresh and not overly sweet way to round off a meal. My suggestion of a drizzle of some pure, raw honey on top of it all is a lovely touch that you might like to try.

As for you, do think of putting out a bowl of water for the birdies this Summer, a terracotta one preferably, as that will keep the water cool. As Ruskin Bond puts it charmingly as only he can, "Don't drive those sparrows out of your veranda; they won't hack into your computer."              

Lemon Butter Cake

Anyone out there who was also sucked into the craze that is colouring books for grown ups? Well, I for one was, when I first discovered them about two years back from an article in the New York Times about this new activity that had everyone hooked. For someone, who had spent many of her childhood summer afternoons with a colouring book, it was a chance to be a child all over again. And of course, I might as well admit that it also gave me the stationary addict an excuse to indulge in a brand new set of 24 colour pencils. Oh, don't roll your eyes, I nearly bought the 96 pencil set if you must know! 

As with all things that are a craze, the experts are not too far behind with their analysis. Turns out, our lives have become so simplified with technology that our hands have not much to do and our heads are too crammed with social media feeds. So, there is an increasing demand for activities where you need to work with your hands while your mind tunes out the world. So, it's not just colouring books that have taken off, but there's been increased interest in hobbies that would have been considered old-fashioned or even too slow a few years back like pottery, calligraphy, macrame and even Grandma's favourite past-time, knitting. As the headline runs, 'Pottery is the new Pilates and Macrame takes away the crazy'. I must admit I do agree with the reasoning and I can see the appeal because those pottery classes are really calling out to me.

We are now discovering, our grandparents had life more sorted out on a lot of issues with a lot less fuss. No wonder, we are also being told we should also eat and cook like the way grandma did. So, I took that advice seriously and over the weekend I baked an old fashioned lemon butter cake whose recipe a sister-in-law had got from her friend, Helen, who probably got it from her mother or even grand mother. 

It all started with me making a batch of lemon curd from the orange lime tree outside our home. The identity of those orange limes have been much debated but on last count, we have decided these as Rangpur limes. Well, we don't know what all we can use them for as they are quite sour but they are excellent to make a fragrant lemon curd, or should I say lime curd. And to use up the curd, I turned to this simple recipe that my sister had raved about. 

It's a simple enough butter cake that has a layer of lemon curd sandwiched in the middle of the batter. While piling on the batter into the tin, after three-fourths of the batter has been put in, layer it with lemon curd that you then top off with rest of the batter. So, the outside bakes into a lovely, golden brown crust with this lemony, moist, fragrant inside. I had topped it off with flaked almonds because I had a lot to finish off but it is entirely optional and a sprinkling of sugar will do just fine instead. 

This is a good, solid, homey cake that sings of all things lemony. The fragrant lemon quotient completely envelops and infuses your palate with all its delights and there is nothing subtle about it. Needless to say, you must enjoy the twang of citrus if you bake this cake. 

While I look around for pottery classes, has anybody picked up knitting needles lately?! As for the aforementioned Helen whose recipe it is, I am told it's her birthday today. We've never met but Happy Birthday Helen and here's to a beautiful year ahead!