A Trip Down Memory Lane

When I was a child we used to go on day trips to visit various family members, or sometimes they would come to us.

One particular favourite relly was (still is) Auntie Dot, she of Avon Crisp renown (more of which later.)  She still lives out in the wilds of the Cotswold countryside.  Autumn was always a brilliant time of year to visit, as we would go out for long walks across rolling hills, along bumpy farm tracks and over magical bridges spanning fast-flowing rivers where we would always stop for a family game of Pooh Sticks.

Sometimes we would borrow a neighbour’s dog to take along.  I remember one, a shimmering red setter who bore an uncanny resemblance to a race horse.  He shot off like a streak of lightening across a field  in hot pursuit of a hapless rabbit, selective deafness coming into play when I blew the comedy ‘soundless’ whistle his owner had handed to me, saying he would come straight back if I gave it a good blast.  I think the clue lies in the name!  Surprisingly enough, he, like me, showed no signs of hearing the soundless whistle as he disappeared out of sight over the horizon, tongue lolling about somewhere behind his ears such was his speed. He left me in a total state of panic.  I’d lost the dog!  That was the first and last time I ventured out alone for a walk there.  Suddenly, the fascinatingly beautiful and mysterious countryside seemed vast and remote and very, very lonely.  I ran all the way home to Auntie Dot’s, tears streaking my face, only to find the wretched hound sitting on its master’s doorstep drooling like a halfwit.

‘Oh, um, here you are.  I’ve brought you his lead back,’ I said, as though he was meant to beat me home.

The best part of getting home after a long constitutional in the crisp autunm air, pockets crammed with shiney conkers, was the pot of tea and selection of home-baked goodies that Auntie Dot would wheel out on her golden hostess trolley.  Oh, how I loved those cakes and what exquisite agony it was to have to make the choice of which to have first!  A second slice was always permitted and somehow that hostess trolley lent the whole ritual a pedestrian glamour, a small spark of magic in my childhood world.  Did I mention that it was all consumed in front of the log fire cuddled up with the cat?

Now, as I said earlier, more about Avon Crisp, which is really just Very Special Rice Krispie Cake.  Auntie Dot made it for the first time on a boat on the River Avon – thus the moniker.  Here, for your delectation, is the recipe, which I share with you at the risk of alienating my lovely Auntie.  I swear though, one bite of this heavenly sweet treat and you will be transported straight back to somewhere very special in your childhood:

Ingredients
100g / 4 oz of each:  butter, toffee, marshmallows
Small box Rice Krispies

Method
Melt the first three ingredients gently in a large saucepan, stirring with a wooden spoon from time to time.  Remove from heat and add enough Krispies to coat them all in the mixture. Stir in gently and tip into a dish lined with baking paper.  Once set, lift out and cut into squares.  Enjoy (with a good cup of tea)!

Having shared the secret with you, I expect you to make it and report back to me.  (Did I mention that I have a sweet tooth and that you, too,  might need one to enjoy this?)

On the subject of a sweet tooth, I am ashamed to admit that I have lost count of the amount of Hallowe’en tuck I have stolen from Thirteen.  I wonder if she has noticed yet.