My trusty old Indian pressure cooker, a gift from my mother, finally gave up on me. After enduring many, many years of my eccentric usage, it finally blew its gasket. Well, it blew its safety valve, actually, sending up a steady spray of its contents ceilingward, in a geyser  quite worthy of an Old Faithful. Perhaps word had got around that a shiny, new model was on its way, and that did it in.

I couldn’t blame it, really. Feeling like old faithless, standing on a step ladder and mopping toor dal off the ceiling and walls, I thought about all the good times we’d had together. I will miss the gentle conversational, steam driven bobble-babble of my kitchen companion, punctuated with its occasional shrieks of excitement. I hear its replacement is a bit on the quiet side.

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It was 23 °C with cloudless, brilliant blue skies in early October.

That was the dream end to a glorious run of our seemingly endless summer this year. More than a week of greyness, mist, and “rain, with the promise of plenty more where that came from” days, and I can’t kid myself anymore that autumn isn’t well and truly here.

Thanksgiving in Canada is over, Halloween is coming, and there are gourds, ghouls, and pumpkins of every shape, hue and hugeness everywhere. There are pools of colour in the cranberry fields, and the trees around are clad in  beautiful, warm colours – one last hurrah for summer. The fallen leaves are gathering in soft, crinkling heaps and will be swept away soon, by the wind, rain and street cleaning crews. Shake out the umbrellas and rain jackets – resistance is futile.

Or is it…?

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This is the last “honey post” for a while, I promise! After all that great news about  Nectar Fresh™ , it calls for a celebration. And what better way than with a honey cake?

This recipe is one from my mother’s very eclectic recipe file, filled with recipes collected along her many years of travel as an army wife. Her association with amazing cooks from very diverse culinary backgrounds  paid rich dividends for us – sometimes quite literally! My mother got to learn new recipes, and we got to eat the (almost) always excellent results.  I believe this recipe was one she learnt at a cooking class conducted by an officer’s wife sometime in the late 1960’s.

It has served us well, and was one of my favourite “puddings” as a child. How could it not be, given that it’s basically a sponge cake, doused with generous quantities of honey and cream? I could have written this one myself!

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