Crunch

Obviously everything I cook is completely yummy but there are some dishes, such as borscht, that provoke spontaneous delight in others: who knew that virtue could taste so good. My granola works like that. It was one of the many things I discovered in Japan thanks to the excellent wholefood cooperative that catered to homesick Americans in far-flung inaka. When I got back to Britain I had sporadic attempts to make some myself but it was the blog by Orangette that kickstarted the crunchiness. It was then the lovely Japanese Kaori who requested this recipe and reminded me how good it is.

Maple & Olive Oil Granola (adapted from Orangette's adaptation of Early Bird Food's version)

300g porridge oats
250g pumpkin & sunflower seeds
50g dessicated coconut
150g flaked almonds
1tsp coarse salt
85g brown sugar
175ml maple syrup
120ml olive oil
chopped dried apricots, prunes, cherries


Stir together the oats, seeds, nuts and salt. Mix the brown sugar, maple syrup and olive oil ... add to the oats and seeds and stir to coat. Spread the mixture in a large baking tray and bake until golden brown for 45 minutes (180C, 350F, gas mark 4) checking and stirring every 15 minutes or so. When the mixture has cooled, add the dried fruit and store in an airtight container

While baking this I was making my first stab at sorting the family photographs that arrived from my dad's flat in some buckets and carrier bags. This was just the first sort of the photographs: dividing them into "Drumbuidhe", "Anywhere Else" and "Rubbish" ... if I didn't recognise the people or place then it got binned. Thankfully my mother had labelled most of the negatives but I've still got a stack to get through. As far as sorting out my dad's estate goes, this isn't one of the arduous tasks but my sister is trying to wring as much drama out of it as she can (even if that means she misses out on the gentle pleasure of revisiting my parents lives through the years). It was she who dumped all the photographs into buckets and bags so that she could A) rent out dad's flat less than a month after his death and B) sell the bureau that they were stored in. As I sorted through the photographs I came across a few where my sister has been cut out of the photograph and then, most bizarrely, the photograph has been returned. Apart from having my sister removed, the photographs have little else in common - they feature me, my mum, the Cambridge academic Pip Gaskell and my sister's Chilean friend Loretta. I don't think there's any grand meaning behind this, I think my sister was just being a bit daft ...

The deeds of dad's flat have recently been passed on to my sister (I'm inheriting my dad's 1/3 share of Drumbuidhe but that takes a wee bit longer to sort out). She was also up from Devon in Glasgow this week without telling me. I'm not upset at this (I very rarely take offence and I'm up in Drumbuidhe anyway) and I assume it's because she's selling my dad's flat and, after making such a fuss about how she was the only one who knew my dad's intentions, she doesn't want to admit that she just really needs the cash. Hey ho.