Good afternoon everyone,
Whatever is the opposite of the Hungry Gap, that's where we currently find ourselves. The Glut Rut? The Satiated Stage? The Replete... Well, whatever you want to call it, we are certainly revelling in its riches. Conveniently dove-tailing with the strawberry season losing its lustre, we are entering peak cherry season, and last week blackcurrants and gooseberries entered the scene courtesy of Styan Family Produce, and our dear friends Tim and Alison's allotment. This coming week, due to the remarkably and persistently warm weather, we will have the first of the plums, a fruit which we normally miss entirely due to our August closure. And furthermore, Styan will also be delivering English apricots. The plums will be lightly poached to adorn our ricotta bun, whilst the apricots will make a delightfully tart compote to fill the choux au craquelin. The blackcurrants can be found in the muffins, the gooseberries and cherries atop the almond frangipane galette.
Following the success of our scone pop-up, we've been looking for opportunities to utilise the bakery forecourt. Saturday just gone we held a plant sale for Oxford City Farm, and next Saturday we host Tiny Teahouse. Based on Magdalen Road, and the creation of friend of the bakery and man about town James Thirlwell, Tiny Teahouse is a two-seater teahouse offering private tea tasting and tea ceremonies by appointment. On Saturday 12 July James will be on the forecourt of the bakery running a pop-up matcha bar. From 9am-1pm he will be serving iced matcha lattes and yuzu matcha tonics. All drinks will be made to order with Canton ceremonial grade matcha from Uji, organic oat milk and home-made syrups.
Finally, the first in a new series (possibly regular, sporadic, or never, we'll have to see) entitled...
This week Hugo drank... C'est Tous les Jours Dimanche. It was rarebit night at chez Hamblin on Friday, calling for something cold and zingy, and this unfiltered beauty from the Atlantique bit of the Loire fit the bill admirably, crisp and zesty with a leesy texture that lingered pleasantly after the initial hit of citrus and salty sea spray. Hugo assumed the name of the cuvée was a reference to a certain Mancunian, but it turns out there's a Maurice Chevalier song with the same title, a paean to the joys of love, which certainly seems more in keeping with the spirit of this vibrant wine than Moz's magnificently gloomy evocation of silent and grey English Sundays.
And there we are. Thank you for reading and may your Sunday(s) be filled with love and laughter,
Kate and Hugo