Home in time for apple fritters.

After a blissful three nights on our own we went to pick up Fin from Granny Jane and Grampy Dick. As always seems to be the case, even three days renders Fin older and taller looking than you last remembered him. He shone with delight. We drove home to the sounds of Orchestra Baobab and the sun turned the hedges gold. (I had to turn the CD player up a little though - to help us all through a little winy patch of Fin's).

On the way home I remembered that Apple day was coming up - something Bridport celebrates by having a mini festival in Symondsbury, with apple varieties on show, fresh pressed juices, cakes, games and (my favourite) hippies. Just up the road from us is a Discovery apple tree, early cropping and fragrantly perfumed. We spilled out as soon as we got back and went to collect the best windfalls for a supper of apple fritters with honey. Fin cored and chopped them into rings while I made a thick batter with rice flour and arrowroot. I might do something like this for apple day with a standard flour batter. In moments the fritters were on the table, dusted with cinnamon and a drizzle of Dorset honey. Fin gobbled them down and then went out for a water fight with Nick.

After the water fight they sat on the doorstep in the last rays of sun, like old Spanish gents, while I pottered in the kitchen. I think I like it here.