Daffodils, pancakes and the clocks

Yesterday I got out for a bit of a walk, found a couple of brand new golf balls out of bounds, tossed them back onto the course, and noticed these 

My shadow photo-bombing the new daffodils. All over this area they're coming up.  They're our family's 9.11 memorial, Handsome Partner's idea.

At that time he was still walking but couldn't dig, so he pointed and Handsome Son and I planted, all over, under the trees. We observed that he had the easy way of planting -- delegating it. 

He asked everyone, later,  to plant daffodils in his own memory, too, so there are plantings in many places. My own garden daffodils I showed you the other day are part of it.

And the pancakes made with aqua faba are really good, fluffy, nice color. I used whole-wheat flour for them 

Here's last night's supper, two pancakes with apple slices between, honey over. This morning it was pancake with blueberries and honey for breakfast, no picture, it went fast. 

I found a light successor to Hamish, and to my surprise, they too are set in Scotland, this one alternating with the two main characters between London and near Loch Ness. 

It's an entertaining read, though the subject is serious.  It handles PTSD and recovery, transgender issues and the illnesses the two main characters, medics, attend. That sounds so dark, but it's not depressing at all. Light touch.

Happy day everyone, I'm up at dark o'clock but the clocks changed and got me all confused. Again.

Pommes vertes au miel au-dessous de deux petites crepes

So, after a large bowl of chicken veg soup, for Sunday supper, there arose the need for some sort of dessert.  After looking around the kitchen in a wild surmise, I finally settled on a Granny Smith apple, which I peeled and cored, love that apple corer, use it all the time, then sliced thin and microwaved for a couple of minutes with honey drizzled about.

Then used up the last of the pancake batter to make two little crepes, well, pancakes, a bit sturdy for crepes.  

And it went down very well. 

So I thought I should give it the pretentious name you see above, no doubt what Aunt Dahlia's French chef Anatole, would have said. And Bertie Wooster would probably have been very impressed with. But I bet Anatole would add a dash of kirsch to the contraption.

Pancake batter keeps for days in the fridge.  Just shove all the ingredients into a blender, I add extra milk to the usual recipe, which comes out too thick for my taste.  And go from there.  A lot less trouble than pancakes usually sound.

Pancakes growing up in my house were usually strictly a ritual Shrove Tuesday event, since making them for a large family is a bit of a pain, so it wasn't a casual sort of thing. And the approved condiments were lemon juice and a scatter of sugar.  No honey, syrup, jam, nothing exotic like that. So I feel quite daring making them any old time, and  using honey instead.   And if you like cinnamon this is a good place to shake some.  Or amchur, come to that.