Blossom: Day Twenty-One, Loafing Around

(I didn't really loaf.)

Sunday 21 Frocktober

Outfit/s

• Pencil skirt, cotton blouse, stretchy belt, beret, seamed stockings, black shoes.

 Menu

• Breakfast - toast but this time I had grilled cheese - it's Sunday!
• Lunch - sandwich.
• Dinner - meatloaf, mash, vegies.

Mood

• Headachy.

This morning started, joyfully, with a stint at Darling Central with the divine Miss Jasmine. A very good start to the day!

I wore my new gorgeous petrol-blue ruffly pencil skirt by Miss Candyfloss, from Darling Central, with a cotton blouse belted with a stretchy belt. I wore my favourite beret, and one of my few remaining pairs of nice seamed stockings, and felt very Parisienne.

Life's nicer under a beret. The French have known this all along.

After I got home I fear I still had a lot to get done, and had a pounding headache that has, in all honesty, been there for way too long. A tall glass of water failed to shift it. Hope it's not a storm brewing!

All the same, time and housework wait for no-one, and I knew I had some cooking to do.

I made two loaves today. One sultana loaf, which I intend to share with friends. And one meatloaf, for my dinner and lunch tomorrow.

Here we go: loafing around.

Blossom's sultana loaf

This is very simple to make, tasty and lasts for a long time in an airtight tin. It does use up a fair bit of your butter and sugar ration, but it also lasts at least a week.

 Note: there is NO WAY somebody living in England could have managed this recipe - but in Australia? Absolutely. Even so, you'd have to plan it in advance, and not expect to have butter on your toast for a while.

Start by sacrificing your week's butter ration, left out to soften. Cream it with a week's sugar ration, and some vanilla essence.

It's cruddy margarine from now on.

Beat three eggs into the mixture one at a time, mixing very well between eggs.

These days way too many recipe books say things like 'combine in your electric mixer'. Well, I have no electric mixer - not in the forties, not in present time. Where would I put it? But I have something that works nearly as well.

A rotary beater and elbow grease.

Sift into the egg mixture three cups of plain flour mixed with a teaspoon of baking soda.

I love sifting. So ... FOOFY.

Mix in well and add enough milk to form a stiff batter.

Original recipe says half a cup - what?! No way, it can take at least a cupful.

See?

At this stage you will need to swap your wooden spoon for a metal one.

This sultana loaf takes exactly this many sultanas. Thanks Sunbeam!

Fold in your conveniently-sized box of sultanas, trying not to eat too many.

Carefully grease a loaf tin - ha! Who am I kidding? I've already used up my ration, so I just bung in some pieces of non-stick baking paper. It was that or lard. Spoon in your mixture and smooth the top.

Or in my case, make a cursory effort towards vaguely smoothing the top.

Bake in a moderate oven for 1 - 1.5 hours until a skewer stuck in the centre comes out clean.

It looks like this:

Crumbly and still warm, oh my.

It will keep in a cake tin for at least a week. It is delicious spread with a little butter, but since you've used up your ration, you'll have to slum it with margarine or dunk it in your tea.

Part of a complete 1940s take-to-the-factory breakfast, by the way.

Now, dinner.

Blossom's pork and veal meatloaf

A helluva lot of forties food - aside from being brown - involves minced meat and shredded vegies.

I firmly believe that this is because it seems to make a little bit go further.

This is a fairly typical forties recipe: basically a way to cut down the meat portion of your plate with a whole lot of extra veg to pad it out. You think, oh, there's a slice of meat, but it's at least half vegies. Clever!

I have used pork and veal mince for this tasty treat, which is also lovely cold in sandwiches.

Oh, and by the way, if like me you only have one loaf tin, you'll have to let it cool down from your sultana loaf, wash it and start again.

Cut a generous slice of warm sultana loaf, still warm from the oven. Take it to your local butcher. Give it to him, as a gift. Smile winsomely. Then ask if he might have a nice bit of pork and veal under the counter for an old friend. He does? Smile again. Offer to make him some more sultana loaf when you can get butter again. Ask him to mince the pork and veal together for you.

Go home and get out the Usual Suspects, and whatever else you may have in your fridge. (You may already be seeing a pattern here.)

What's that? A new vegetable? A turnip!

Grate them all and add some parsley from your mutant parsley patch.

I only used half the turnip. I wasn't sure I could have stood the excitement.

Add a small quantity of precious, hard-won pork and veal mince. Use clean hands to squoosh them all together. Yes, this is one of those dishes.

Add some rolled oats, an egg, some Worcestershire Sauce ...

WHAAAAH!

... And the recipe says tomato sauce but I detest it (sorry) so added some tomato paste instead.

Get those fingers ready.

Squoosh it all together again, then bung some more baking paper in your poor overused loaf tin, and press the mixture in.

A bit more neatly than the sultana loaf, apparently.

Your oven is still on moderate, yes?

Put the meatloaf in for 45 - 50 minutes or until it is cooked right through.

In the meantime, boil more potatoes for mash (no butter, sadly - you used it all, remember?) and steam some vegies to accompany.

I am writing this blog as I wait for my meatloaf to finish cooking and my potatoes to boil, so no finished product today, sorry. You will have to wait until tomorrow.

Frock you later,
Blossom