Spring is tumbling down the stairs like a slinky with its coat on. It’s late. We’ll forgive it tho, we usually do. Once we adjust our clocks, start to hear uplifting birdsong or more likely, the sound of the garden proud neighbour busting out his power mower. We’ll store our ‘big coats’ deep within Narnia-made wardrobes and Bermuda Triangle-esque attics. And leap forward ready for brighter longer days!
But first, Hot cross buns. Toast them on both sides. Butter them, generously in a confident end-of-the-world manner. Corral smokey, salty streaky bacon into a pan, sizzle until rendered fat remains in the skillet and rashers have a measured crispy new life. Then sandwich between the buns, smothered with a marmalade of your choice (I have a kick ass jar of @hamjars at the mo) and eat ensuring you drip elements of it on you shirt and trousers. Making sure you only notice once you left the house, about 2 hours later. Perhaps you’ve been to a meeting, or maybe you’ve been fishing your coats back out from their storage solutions.
nick hook photography 