It’s a bit of a messy time of the year, the bits between Solstice, Christmas and the New Year. The fridge is full of opportunistically-bought reduced-price stuff, including a large piece of steak that I thought “well, it’s a shame not to get it; I could make a pasty with that.”
We like pasties in Schloss Marland.
So I made the pasty yesterday. It was a good way of using up the great mound of cheese pastry that I had made for cooking cheese straws. The first batch were a bit disappointing, and the pastry was just sitting there….
So we ended up with the biggest pasty ever. It just fitted into the oven. I tied bandages of greaseproof paper round it to stop it from bursting open while cooking.
And then, as the weather has turned mild, I bundled it into a bag and moithered young K into her despised walking boots, and drove us over to the Avon Gorge.
We scrambled through the trees and teetered down a bit of a crag, and ended up in Burwalls Cave. It was very peaceful, and the pasty was very hot. Beyond the prayer flags and across the Gorge were the stately buildings of Clifton. The occasional jackdaw drifted by.
I poured out a small libation from the bottle of Schloer before we left. Sometimes you’ve just got to do these things.