NBthis post is from 2012 but I thought id repost simply for its climactic crazy comparison :)
This Easter Sunday, my parents will have been married for 35 years. On that day there was snow on the ground.
Isn't it odd, a bit befuddling and an utter wardrobe quandary? Sunshine but an icy wind? Daffodils almost passed their best but snow on the windowsill? Pretty vintage dresses on the back of the bedroom door but my standby 'winter woolly and denim skirt' combo back in circulation?
So perhaps I may have been more drawn to something lemon-y, frothy and light should the balmy spring high remained. Or perhaps cinnamon spiced, frosted and adorned with marzipan carrots should the garden still have been calling us out to play? As it is, molten chocolate was the way my glad soul wandered, closely followed by a couple of small noses and two pairs of shiny, hopeful eyes.
I talk often of this cake. I bring it out in many guises as the year slips by, festivity by festivity, celebrations, anniversaries, cups of tea and natters, meet ups and cheer ups.
It is right in a way that only good chocolate cake can be. Damp and fudgy, comfort in a mouthful but all at once a little glamorous stood high and celebratory on its stand, bedecked in seasonal fabulousness. Gold glitter magic or heart shaped and raspberry bejewelled or smooth as an Easter Egg encircled with mini pastel coloured, sugar powdered, be-speckled sugar eggs.
N.B. are these little bad boys singularly the most addictive things on the planet?!
So while the chill wind blows, I bring in my tiny radish seedlings, with their achingly sweet heart shaped new leaves and take out my knitting once more.
I would pour you a cup of tea and serve you up a generous slice of cake. Pretty vintage crockery providing us with our hit of spring prettiness, patterns of lilac and yellow pansies, green willows and blousey roses. For the April showers bring May flowers!