Raspberry-almond shortbread and renovation confessions

(Where are the meals? Where is the mail?)

Dear friends, Melanie has been baking raspberry shortbread biscuits that are buttery and divine, based on a stunningly-illustrated recipe posted to us by Kimberlee in the USA. I am going to tell you about that today, and share Kimberlee’s letter with you.

But first… greetings from Renovation Central!

Where it will come as a surprise to absolutely nobody that our building works are not progressing to plan. There’s a long, boring list of things getting in the way of progress, like missing or broken parts, mis-drawn plans, delayed shipments and, most disturbingly, unreliable foundation footings based on some scientific term which I can’t remember but which loosely equates to “dodgy soil.”

My daughter took this photo of me last night, cooking dinner in the hallway by the light of the open front door. It’s certainly not the most flattering portrait I’ve ever had taken, standing awkwardly in the hallway, tongs in hand, stirring up what turned out to be a fairly indifferent stir-fry (the pan was too hot and all of the lovely, fresh vegetables pretty much disappeared. I think they melted.) But I’m happy to have it because in the years to come, I know I’ll look back on this time of our lives with laughter if not fondness.

At least I hope so!

I am sorry to say that I vastly underestimated the sheer amount of time it would take to live the way we are living. How ridiculously long it takes to cook a very simple meal in an electric frying pan (thank you to everyone who recommended getting one of these!) when you have to run up and down stairs carrying buckets of water, don’t have any bench space to chop or prepare, have literally nowhere but the floor on which to put the hot frying-pan lid, and then need to carry everything upstairs in cardboard boxes to wash up in the bathtub.

Everything from clothes washing (and drying and folding and putting away) to cleaning, to cooking – even to eating – takes longer.

This is what our kitchen, dining room, living room and bathroom look like right now. The rest of the house is not much better either.

So I am sorry, to you and to everyone else reading this, for the delay in writing. My breezy assumptions of “Oh, I’m working at an office for four days a week now, so my nights will be my own and I can write Meals in the Mail whenever I like!” has turned into something altogether less free and less enjoyable.

Currently, this is what my daily schedule looks like:

• Work at the office from 7am to 6pm (the work-day being punctuated by multiple calls from various trades, two of whom are in a feud and refusing to talk to each other)

• Walk home (this takes an hour and it’s mostly on a busy road, but still rather lovely to get outside)

• Pick up kids from whatever activity they are at with the Accidental Au Pair (that’s another story!), then go home and cook something mundane but ridiculously time-consuming in the electric frying pan or microwave

• Get the kids showered and into bed (frequently easier said than done)

• Carry all the washing up upstairs and wash up in the bath tub (frequently rinsing, tipping out water, refilling, then stopping to dry up piece by piece, because there is nowhere available to drain it or indeed put it down)

By this point it’s about 9.30 at night, and I sit down (finally!) to go through emails from my other clients, check in on any outstanding work I owe them, and read through and respond to emails from all the trades I’m handling (currently including: builders, a geo-tech engineer, a structural engineer, a plasterer, an electrician, a plumber, someone who pulls up tiles, someone who levels floors, someone who lays parquetry, someone who switches off and on hydronic heating, a carpenter, a tiler, an entire kitchen company, and a painter).

This takes me through to somewhere between 10.30 and 11pm, by which time I am no use to anyone, let alone you and the rest of this beautiful Meals in the Mail community.

Oh and also, we have mice! It’s not surprising, given that both the walls and the ceilings of our 150-year-old house are open and exposed. But they are EVERYWHERE. The children think all the mice are just one mouse, and have called it Patches. I, after spending years weaning my family off as much plastic as possible, should probably now buy shares in the stuff: everything in our hallway kitchen is now sealed away from the mice in 10-litre plastic containers, from food to flatware to cutlery to lunch-boxes.

Only half an hour ago, as I began writing this letter to you, a worryingly-fat mouse walked right past me. Normally mice scurry: Patches was so confident that he practically sauntered, and I’m fairly sure he flipped me the bird. I yelled, “The mouse!” and, in the nanosecond it took me to do so, said mouse moved out of my direct eyeline and vanished. I mean, he pretty much lifted his top-hat, waved a cape in front of his face, and disappeared in a puff of smoke. We searched high and low, but Patches continued to evade us.

The Accidental Au Pair (who is French), declared, “Ze mouse knows ze ‘ouse belong to ‘im now.”

To be continued…

But none of this is why you’re reading this letter, is it. You’re here for Meals in the Mail and are probably wondering, “Where are the meals? Where is the mail?”

I know things have been slow and that is all on me, not Melanie. It has taken me this much time to accept the reality of my situation, and what that means for my capacity to be creative. In response we’re taking a short pause, but not an end.

Here’s what’s happening:

1. Everything is free for now

The first thing we’ve done about this is to turn off paying access to Meals in the Mail. This means that anyone who has already committed to pay won’t be charged over this period, and anyone who has paid up front for a year will have that year extended until I have rediscovered my time and you and I have rediscovered our groove, and we can pick up the pace again. Probably around about the middle of the year, if we’re being realistic.

Melanie and I will continue to pop in from time to time with letters, updates, cooking adventures, and stories from our lives. (Mine most likely renovation-related, hers much more exciting, as she is about to embark on an overseas adventure). These letters will all be free for everyone.

2. We’re working on the first Meals in the Mail book

The second thing we are going to do is gently turn our attention to the first volume of the Meals in the Mail books. This book will share some of the recipes and letters you’ve already seen, and many you haven’t, in a celebration of everything that Meals in the Mail stands for. Once finished, the book will be free for all the contributors, and free to anyone who already has a paying subscription to Meals in the Mail. It will also be available to purchase for everyone else.

3. The mailbox is about to reopen!

The third (and possibly most exciting) thing we are going to do is open up the mailbox – for the first time in six years! – to Meals in the Mail. So while I am renovating and Melanie is globally gallivanting, we would be thrilled if you would like to share your own recipes and stories with us!

There will be some instructions around this, so stay tuned for a separate email about the letterbox reopening, coming very soon.

And in the meantime, finally, behold Kimberlee’s beautifully illustrated letter! Her mouth-watering recipe! (And you’re going to love what Melanie does with it).

Kimberlee’s recipe is a work of art, even before you enter the kitchen. Hand lettered, with a lower border of summer flowers, it’s a joy to look at.

But, as with most recipes, it’s the making of it that truly brings it to life. Not only the taste but the meaning behind it. For Kimberlee, this recipe is confidence, creativity and therapy, all in a biscuit! That’s a pretty impressive outcome from just six ingredients, wouldn’t you agree?

Kimberlee writes in her letter…

“Ah, my raspberry almond shortbread cookies. The first recipe I ever experimented with and made my own (so simple!  I started basic!)

“I pull this recipe out when I am feeling down. I learned with this recipe that baking is therapeutic and creative and such a release and escape for me. Even if the ingredients are simple and the recipe is easy. Great outcomes are possible!!

“Maybe all of our problems are easier to solve than we think?”

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Recipe: Raspberry Almond Shortbread Cookies

Yield: 36 cookies

Ingredients:

• 1 cup butter, softened

• 2/3 cup sugar

• 1/2 tsp almond extract

• 2 cos flour

• 1/2 cup raspberry jam

• sugar for sprinkling

Method:

1. Beat butter for 30 seconds on medium speed

2. Add the sugar and almond extract, beat until well combined

3. Slowly mix in flour

4. cover and chill for one hour

5. Preheat oven to 350 degres Farenheit (180 Celsius)

6. Shape into 1-inch balls and place on cookie sheet

7. Using your thumb, press an indentation into the centre of each ball

8. Spoon 1/2 tsp jam into each indentation and sprinkle with sugar

9. Bake for 10 minutes

Enjoy!