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Yesterday a friend mentioned she baked the lemon cookies from my recipe book The Mystic Cookfire. (Available from www.veronikarobinson.com, www.starflowerpress.com, Amazon and other online retailers, good bookshops and libraries)

Here’s my updated gluten-free version.  They’re quick and easy to make, and taste fabulous!

 

lemon

Veronika’s gluten-free lemon cookies

½ cup softened organic coconut oil or organic sunflower oil
2 large spoons of egg replacer or two organic free range eggs
Zest of one large fresh lemon (organic)
¼ cup fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon quality lemon or orange essence
½ teaspoon gluten-free baking powder
1 cup quinoa flour
1 cup rice flour
½ cup coconut flour
1½ cups coconut blossom sugar or soft brown sugar

Cream oil and sugar with a whisk, then add the egg replacer/eggs, followed by the zest, essence and juice. Keep mixing. Add the baking powder and flour. Put the dough into the fridge to chill for 20 minutes.

Preheat oven to 180C. Use baking paper on your baking tray. Place a spoonful of dough for each cookie. Bake for fifteen minutes.
Cool for a few minutes before putting onto a cooling rack.

These cookies are delightfully chewy and perfect at any time of year, whether for a garden party, picnic or lazy afternoon reading a book by the fire.

astromentorpngClick on image to enlarge.

My novel, Bluey’s Café, will be FREE to download on Kindle from Oct 8th to 12th!

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Blueys-Caf%C3%A9-Veronika-Sophia-Robinson-ebook/dp/B00H4CVEBG/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top

Cover illustration by the talented and gorgeous Sara Simon!

 

My second novel, set in Australia.

My second novel, set in Australia.

Don’t ask me why Saturday night is dessert night in our home, rather than say Wednesday or Monday…because I don’t know.

Last night we had one of my favourite desserts: pear and coconut crumble. It’s quick and easy to make, and tastes gorgeous!

I first wrote about this dessert in my novel, Bluey’s Café:

Home alone on Saturday night, instead of crawling into bed or watching late-night TV, Bluey headed to the kitchen. A small hessian sackful of ripe pears were begging for her to take notice of them. She peeled half a dozen, and sliced their tender juicy flesh in half, laying them in a pan with coconut oil and brown sugar. They began simmering. Their buttery and gritty flesh was perfect for a crumble. Coconut cream swirled around the pears, and a sprinkling of ground ginger dusted the top.

Bluey loved cooking with coconut, and always found it lent an erotic edge to her recipes, not to mention that it reminded her of Cole Hadden, a dashing young English businessmen who had taken her to dinner while in Jamaica several years ago. His kisses tasted like coconut with a hint of cinnamon and Caribbean sunshine. She could never look at coconuts in the same way again.

 

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Serves four to six

4-6 large ripe pears
30g coconut oil (or margarine)
50g coconut sugar (or other unrefined sugar) or maple syrup
Juice of half a lemon
500ml coconut cream
Dusting of ground ginger

Crumble:
85g solid coconut oil (or margarine, but coconut is better)
100g coconut sugar (or other unrefined sugar)
2 cups jumbo oats
1/3 cup desiccated coconut
100g 80% dark chocolate, broken into pieces (ginger chocolate is especially good!)

Preheat the oven to 180C. Peel the pears, cut in half and remove the stalks and seeds. Drizzle with lemon juice to stop browning.

Melt coconut oil (or margarine) in a pan, and add the pear halves. Add the sugar, and allow to caramelise.

After about fifteen minutes, add the coconut cream. Place the contents into a casserole dish. It will look like there’s too much liquid, but don’t worry, as it will be absorbed by the crumble.

Make the crumble. I prefer not to use flour in my crumble as I’m gluten free, but if you’d like it, use about 80g flour, and half the amount of oats. Rub the oil or margarine into the oats. Add the sugar and desiccated coconut. Add the pieces of chocolate and mix well. Place the mixture onto the top of the pears. Bake for 45 minutes.

Serve with soya cream or soya ice cream.

The Blessingway: creating a beautiful blessingway ceremony

The Blessingway: creating a beautiful blessingway ceremony

Just wanted to share the new cover for The Blessingway, illustrated by Susan Merrick. I really love it!

Equinox blessings, and happy New Moon in Libra.
Issue four of Starflower Living is now available to download.

  • Editorial
  • Walking with Beauty
  • New Moon in Libra
  • Officiating Weddings
  • Healing Adrenals
  • Thyme Honey
  • In my Kitchen
  • Conscious Uncoupling
  • Love (poem)
  • The Starthrower
  • Autumn Equinox
  • Creating a Charmed Life
  • May Di Vorce be with You
  • The Mirror of Relationships

Cover photo by Sabine Scherer Photography.

Cover photo by Sabine Scherer Photography.

http://starflowerpress.com/living/index.shtml

On an Autumnal day in New Zealand in March, 1996, I gave birth to my first child at home in a birth pool by candlelight. Mozart’s music played in the room, and she arrived in this world peacefully. She didn’t cry or fuss, but just looked into our eyes and took in her surroundings.

Half an hour later, it was time to cut the cord (if I knew then what I do now, we’d have had a *lotus birth and not cut the cord). She howled and screamed. It has been said that cutting the cord doesn’t hurt, but she clearly felt ‘something’ as our physical connection was severed.

 

Seconds after giving birth at home, by candlelight and Mozart, to my daughter Bethany.

Seconds after giving birth at home, by candlelight and Mozart, to my daughter Bethany.

 

aucklandgarden

For eighteen years, we have shared our lives. At seven this morning, we waved goodbye. That umbilical cord was well and truly cut. And it bloody well hurt me too. She’s on her own now. This part of my mothering journey with her is over.

I’m no longer there to protect her, make sure she eats her greens, warn her off certain boys, and prompt a bedtime to ensure adequate sleep. My job is done.

I look forward to hearing all the stories about university life. But today, I grieve. Today I trust the tears which fall so freely to cleanse old wounds.

I have found it interesting in these past few weeks how differently people respond to pain. Those who have attachment parented their children ~ they understand. They allow me my grief without trying to band aid over it.

And then there are people who are quick to remind me that she’ll be home in ten weeks. It’ll zip by, they say. Maybe. But I doubt it.

If you ever miscarry, someone is bound to say ‘never mind, you can try again’ or ‘it wasn’t meant to be’…rather than just honouring the loss. They mean well, of course, but it doesn’t help.

Yes, Christmas might be just around the corner (at my age it’s always just around the corner!)…but that’s more than 150 meals we won’t be sharing together. More than seventy mornings where I won’t get to see her smile or share a cup of tea.

As a bonded family, every day is a lifetime to savour. So, in some people’s world ten weeks is nothing. This morning, for me, it is a long time away.

I appreciate she’s not going off to war or ill in hospital. She’s a beautiful, healthy young woman with adventures ahead of her ~ but that doesn’t make the cutting of the umbilical cord any less painful.

The eighteen years between giving birth and saying goodbye, now THAT has zipped by.

beth

Pharmacy shelves abound with ‘remedies’ for coughs and colds, but I can promise you nothing will come close to being as brilliant as your own home-made elixir.

I’ve made up a batch of Autumnal cold syrup so my daughter can take some to Bangor University when she leaves (in two days). There are rumours of Freshers Flu which are leaving all the new students rather terrified.

 

lemonsyrup1

What you’ll need:
Organic lemons (you’re leaving the skins on, so make sure they’re organic)
Fresh ginger root (one decent chunk, about five inches long)
30 ml 100% eucalyptus oil (do NOT use synthetic oils)
Raw honey (depends on how much you’re making)
Old glass jars

Place the glass jars and lids into a large pot and fill with water and bring to the boil. While they’re sterilising, get to work make your mixture.

Slice the lemons. (I used three bags of lemons, but one bag is fine)
Slice the ginger root.
Sprinkle liberally with lots of eucalyptus oil.

Gentle warm the honey if it’s ‘set’ honey. Don’t boil it. You just want it soft enough to pour into your jars.

When the jars are done, and have cooled a little, place the lemons and ginger root in each one until filled to the top. Sprinkle in more eucalyptus oil. Pour honey in until covered. Screw lid on tightly. I tip my jars upside down, and upright, and down again a few times over the course of the next day.

To use: simply take a spoon of honey (including lemon and ginger) and pop it into a mug with boiling water. Sip as often as needed throughout the day.

 

lemonsyrup2

This can be used as a preventative, too. This mixture will last for months in the fridge.

So, all you Freshers starting university life, get drinking this remedy. Stay strong, study hard, have fun ~ and most importantly, phone your mother!

*You can also find a recipe for Thyme Honey (also effective for coughs and colds) in issue 4 of Starflower Living (publishing Sept 24). http://www.starflowerpress.com/living/index.shtml

 

New Love April 1995

New Love April 1995

It’s such a gorgeous Autumn morning here in the Eden Valley. My husband Paul and I are in ‘my’ writing room (which doubles as a guest room and second lounge room and general workspace for the whole family) at work on our various projects. Eliza’s at school. Bethany’s asleep (four days till she leaves for university!!!!) I love this time of day when the early morning Sun isn’t long over the hills, mist is in the fields before me, and there’s a gentleness to the morning.

It took a long time to get to the point where we could create a life where we mostly work side by side rather than Paul being at other work. I enjoy this daily companionship so much (though I still need to find a way to press the ‘off’ button when Paul starts talking to me about sports).

In April, we will have been together for twenty years. I have no sense of our relationship being ‘old’, even though when we met it was:

 

“I’ve known you forever”

at first sight.

 

I still love it when Paul holds my hand as we walk down the street, or puts his arm around my waist for a cuddle as we’re waiting in a queue. I never tire of the way his face lights up when he sees me.

 

So, in April, we will have a Vow Renewal Ceremony shared with our friends to honour this chapter of our lives. We both feel we’ve grown and changed a lot in that time. Renewing our vows is about recognising this, and saying ‘we still do’.

 

The story of how we got together still makes me smile. I invited Paul for dinner and he never went home again. We moved in together straight away. This photo is from the morning after that dinner. My flatmate said ‘let’s get a photo so you can remember this day’… as if I’d forget!

It is, indeed, a privilege to grow old together (even if he has few wrinkles than me!)