i’ve been spending a lot of time with my grandmother recently. yesterday she taught me how to make one of yummiest of sri lankan cakes; appropriately called ‘love cake’. it has such things as chopped cashew nuts, crystalised pumpkin, crystalised pineapple, crushed pineapple, semolina, all kinds of waters and essences and 22 eggs and lots of butter. we cut and diced everything by hand. we only used the stove to roast the semolina. and we beat the cake batter with a long wooden spoon. halfway through cutting the crystalised pineapple i came across some adventurous ants, in a state of a coma from too much sugar. and promptly my grandmother pulled out another bag from her pantry. a pantry like mary poppins’ handbag.
half way through baking we realised that the oven had blown and was reaching temperatures of 200 degrees, not 100- 150 degrees required for 2 hours baking. so i brought home with me yesterday afternoon a massive tray of cake batter to be baked in my dingy but reliable oven. since last night, the apartment has been smelling of sweetness.
since wednesday the apartment has been smelling of summer. summery pineapple. my mother and bought eight pineapples between us when we went up the road for milk. and we are both going to give jam making a shot this week. i have the pot of chopped pineapple, sugar, cloves and cinnamon sticks simmering away. the jars have also been tended to, and are ready for preserving. it tastes like summer. like sri lanka. like home.