It had been one of those weeks which had underscored the old adage ‘Life is what happens to you while you are making other plans’. Doing a fair imitation of a ‘whirling dervishes’ I moved from task to task without hardly time for my feet to touch the ground. Motivated by the solemn promise I had made myself – that Sunday morning I would lie in bed indulging in fresh jam on newly baked croissants from our local bakery, listening to the radio where others were taking care of the world while I smugly snuggled into the luxuriant warmth of the duvet.
Sunday arrived and happily tucking into my fourth croissant with a Jam sent to me by some American friends, which had been made by Trapist Monks who know how to spice up a jar of jam with half a bottle of Port, I was rudely awakened from my self-indulgent state by the jangling intrusion of the door bell.
My cheeks stopped in mid chew, my face resembling that of a chipmunk, and me feeling like a naughty school girl caught in the larder enjoying a midnight feast. Again the bell went stridently demanding attention. Who could it be on such a well planned Sunday morning? How was I going to transform myself from a bad hair, pyjama clad wreck into a respectable homeowner within the time it would take me to get from the bed to the front door.
Quickly pulling on some handy but crumpled trousers and T shirt and prodding my hair into some semblance of a L’Oreal advert, I descended the stairs cursing roundly under my breath the person who dared to invade my Sunday reverie, fully intent on sending them away with a flea in their ear before returning to the comforting sanctuary of my bed.
Opening the door with as much charm as I could muster I was greeted by Ted and Sue with two of their visitors from the UK – who I had invited round while promising them tea and cakes this very Sunday. Tea and cakes the voice in my head screamed! “You know the cake that you were going to bake especially for them” Swiftly changing gear and attitude while putting on the full charm’ I showed them into the lounge, supplied them with a bucket of tea and the obligatory photos of how we renovated the house.
Making my excuses I retreated to the kitchen and let the pretences drop. Tea and cakes, me and my big mouth, what was I going to do now? I had less than 10 minutes to produce something. My first thought was a croissant dessert until I remembered that they now resided in my stomach. The cupboard provided me with a packet of digestives, the fruit bowl nothing more than a lemon (very appropriately) but my friendly fridge was my saviour with a tub of mascarpone cheese. Hallelujah!!
Once more my ‘whirling dervishes’ act came into play and in a frenzied ten minutes the digestives were crushed and mixed with some butter and placed into small cake rings. The lemon rind was peeled into small strips and the juice added to the mascarpone which was then spooned on top of the biscuit base and decorated with strips of the lemon rind.
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Patting myself on the back I entered the lounge just in time to be greeted with sounds and smiles of delight at the wonderful dessert that I had promised for tea. Now the stress was off I actually had a great morning and felt a glow of pride and sense of achievement, but, still I went back to bed thus fulfilling my promise to both my guests and myself.
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How to make a Swift Lemon Cheesecake
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Serves 2
4 digestive biscuits
20g soft butter
2 tsp clear honey
Juice and zest of ½ lemon
250g Mascarpone
1 tbsp icing sugar
Crush the biscuits in a bowl to small pieces and add the melted butter and honey. Put the mixture into a small cake ring pressing down evenly.
Put the mascarpone into a bowl add the lemon juice chopped rind (leave the rind out if you prefer it smooth) and icing sugar. Have a taste to test if you like more lemon or icing sugar.
Spoon the mixture onto the biscuit base and decorate the top with 4 pieces of lemon rind. Keep in the freezer till ready or like I did eat straight away.
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