For many years I walked past our current abode, brazenly ignoring it, never once did I allow my thoughts to mentally wander up the stony unkempt drive where remains of a bonfire lay and peer through the key whole and visualise living inside it. My eyes very rarely lifted from the country road I so often followed to give the house a caring look or a cheeky flirty glance from over my shoulder.
I visited friends who rented it, sat in its starved from light living room and slept in one of its grimly dampened black patched bedrooms, all the time the repulsive attitude I inhabited about this house drowned out its gentle child – like sweet and innocent song it was so desperately wanting me to hear. Living there seemed like a ludicrous idea, one that I didn’t entertain and one that I never had to.
Within a couple of years the previous residents upt and left, without any love lost they stuffed their suitcases with light fittings, copper pipes and anything else of small pitiful value and scarped, leaving nothing but the burning ashes of their strategically placed bonfire they had so carefully plonked on the front lawn.
Whether it was out of pity or boredom that I started to consider the possibility of living there ourselves I’m unsure, but it was me that when the opportunity arose showed the greatest interest in what was to be a challenging and fulfilling project.
The restoration of our unloved cottage is another story, what I want to tell you about is the one thing that finally after all those years of my adulterated ignorance lifted the hazy judgement that had once clouded my vision and opened my eyes to the attainable possibility’s that had been lying in wait for all this time, coyly trying to attract my attention and cast its mesmerising net over me and entrap me into restoring it back to its true glory.
Surreptitiously shrouded by a solid block of tightly knitted ivy, the rose patiently stood unable to bloom but impervious to any kind of threat that would damage its delicate exterior. Thumb sized patches of sunlight penetrated through the thick ivy cloak, powering any bare stems its strong rays could reach, forcing out tiny tightly wrapped red buds that so distantly began to hypnotise us with her romantic song.
Once freed from its plant like prison the rose burst into operatic rapture and made us fully aware of the magnificent possibility’s that lay before us. Bewitching us with her enticing scent we became fully enthralled and gave our once unloved cottage our full and undivided attention.
My heart weeps a little inside every year when the end of summer is nigh, and the last delicate petals of the country rose fall gracefully to the autumnal floor. That’s when I came up with the idea that this year I was going to en - capture that beguiling perfume like aroma so I can be euphorically enhanced all year round in the form of an oil. Not entirely feeling fulfilled with just the smell of the flower I made a rose and vanilla scented water so that I could fully feel the benefits of this calming fragrance by adding it to a number of different recipes.
Unlike the unpleasant perfumed taste you get from the synthetically scented parma violets, rose water adds a pleasant and distinct essence that dreamily adds a bit of Jane Austin like romanticism to whatever you add it to. I have added the tonic to meringues, Victoria sponge cake and even a pot of tea, start off with a table spoon and add more according to your desired taste.
Whilst it has potion like feel and a desirous name, I am unable to promise that it will have you darning socks and embroidering wild flowers like a modern day Jayne Eyre or that by dousing your partners supper with a healthy glug or two will turn them into your very own version of the admiringly broody Mr Darcy, but we can always try!
If you don’t have any scented roses in your garden or are unable to find any, most supermarkets sell a high quality rose water that will give you the same effect.
Rose and Vanilla Water
One teacup full of highly scented red or pink rose petals (free from pesticides and sprays)
300 ml boiling water
1 vanilla pod
Suitable container e.g. Kilner bottle
Gently wash and bruise the rose petals and place in a sealable sterilized container, fill up with the boiling water and leave until cold.
Once cold remove the petals from the water, carefully squeezing out any excess liquid then discard.
You will be left with pink rose scented water that is ready to use straight away. To store the water place it in the kilner bottle or similar sealed container and place the vanilla pod inside. Use within about one month.
Rose Scented Meringues
4 egg whites – older eggs are better
225g Caster sugar
2 tablespoons rose water
Pink food colouring – optional
Pre heat the oven to 100oc (fan) and start to whisk the egg whites until soft peaks form. Start to add half the sugar a tablespoon at a time until the egg whites become stiff and glossy. Carefully fold in the rest with a large metal spoon. Once the sugar has been incorporated fold in the rose water and a couple of drops of pink food colouring.
Place large spoonful’s of the mixture onto a lined baking tray and bake in the oven for around 1 ½ to 2 hours then leave to cool in the oven until ready to eat.
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