Last week two young men came by and pruned down our beech hedges to manageable shape. It was a great relief when they turned up, and our neighbour–whose garden had been impinged by one of the leafy monsters–was satisfied. The tough love had resulted in a dozen or so apples falling from the adjacent tree, so Benedict Ambrose gathered them up and I made the first apple pie of the season: a szarlotka, recipe from Sugared Orange by Beata Zatorska.

The thrill of eating our own fruit and vegetables never palls, so I am embarking on a Five Year Plan for the garden. 

Meanwhile, I have bought the metal tubes necessary for the manufacture of cannoli. If we can’t go to the Nonna Vincenza in Rome,  we can at least summon up the spirit of Nonna Vincenza in our own kitchen. 

Praise the Lord

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