Rhubarb and blueberry sorbet

I've been growing rhubarb for the first time and was initially impressed with how well my little plug was progressing. Its leaves gradually withered though as the constant wind and rain took its toll and I began to regret not harvesting what I had when the red stalks were very still very small but looked juicy. 

The plant is back on track and is making steady progress now the pot is safely tucked under the cover of my makeshift plastic greenhouse and I still hope to taste its fruit in a couple of weeks time. 

Meanwhile, the UK weather has done a complete volte face and has gone from hail and torrential rain to a full on heatwave. It was 34 degrees in our garden today, which suited the Mediterranean herbs quite well but did the seedlings I was potting out no favours. 

Escaping to the cool indoors, I investigated what we could have to quench our thirst. Iced tea and coffee, especially a refreshing roiboos, but there's also a stash of pureed rhubarb my friend Susi gave us a while ago. 

I've cobbled together a DIY sorbet recipe, adding 150g of blueberries to the green rhubarb mix and a dash of mint. Ginger is a good alternative to mint, while most recipes use strawberries for the colour and additional sweetness. Several recipes I found online suggested a dash of spirits such as gin or vodka - this Kimberly Hasselbrink one looks amazing - to break down the tartness of the fruit. 

I don't have an ice cream maker so blended everything in the food mixer to make it as smooth as possible and then kept nipping indoors to stir up the mixture as it froze - a good discipline for ensuring I didn't get too much unseasonal heat. 

Rhubarb and blueberry sorbet recipe

Place 200g of stewed rhubarb (thaw out frozen stewed fruit; use fresh if available) in a heavy-bottomed saucepan. 

Simmer with 100g blueberries, 150ml of water and around 50g of caster sugar. 

Add small sprig of fresh mint or half a teaspoon of freeze-dried mint

Slowly bring to boil, stirring frequently

Remove from heat and allow mixture to cool

Whizz up the mixture in a blender until it becomes smooth

Pour into an airtight container and freeze for around two hours or until begins to firm up. Stir or break up into chunks and blend in food processor using the chopping blade. Return to freezer and allow to freeze. 

Will need around 15 minutes to become sufficiently defrosted to serve. 

Serve with fresh fruit and/bitter chocolate cookie or mouse. Add a mint leaf for decoration. 

Great British Jubilee Bake

Now that's what I call a cake. Edd Kimber's Great British Jubilee Bake

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine posted a photo of an incredible-looking cake on her Facebook page and threw down the gauntlet to her friends to try and bake a Jubilee-themed Victoria Sponge cake too.

It wasn’t an entirely random challenge. Vinnie works as a PR and one of her clients is Bart Spices. They’d got Great British Bake Off winner Edd Kimber to come up with a new spin on the good old Victoria Sponge using some of their spices sourced from various Commonwealth locales. That's his creation pictured above. 

There’s a competition running until 11th June inviting wannabe bakers to come up with their own Jubilee-themed cake: A baking masterclass is at stake.

By way of enticement to get involvement, I was sent the recipe and spices to have a bash at recreating Edd’s cake. To say I messed things up would understate things somewhat. Attempt number one was hastily abandoned after an accident with the spice grinder. This set me back a few days as I waited for a replacement to arrive. My next attempted bake tasted great but fell apart even before I’d tried the tricky feat of horizontally slicing each half of the cake in order to stuff them with creamy icing and blue and red berries.

Fingers crossed it’ll be third time lucky as there’s only a few more days left to submit entries and I don’t want to be a laughing stock on Facebook, where voting takes place: www.facebook.com/bartspices.

I'm dearly hoping it's anonymous. 

Red, white and blues

I don't know about you, but I'm finding all this British jolliness a bit wearying. Red, white and blue is a cheery trio of colours and I've as fond memories of the 1977 Silver Jubilee as anyone else. We had a lovely street party, the sun shone and I remember being made very welcome by the ladies who were pleased to have a young volunteer for buttering sandwiches before we all tucked in to a vast picnic.

But 1977 was a full 35 years ago and there ought to be some more relevant cultural signifiers than Union Jacks being enthusiastically waved and its familiar motif being spattered across anything able to take a print. The good old red, white and blue is having a dreadful effect on fashion, as a stroll down the aisles of most high street retailers proves. Bed sheets with elongated Union Jacks, floor length and with enormous armholes at the sides are neither maxi dresses or beach cover ups. They're just dreadful.

Last week I witnessed the daubing of the Union Jack right across both windows of one of the most prominently placed pubs in the Leicester Square/Covent Garden tourist zone. Sure enough, when I walked past the next day, not only was the view from the windows completely obliterated, but a giant fry-up and a call to come on in for some Great British Grub was superimposed over the top. We have a tough enough time convincing sceptical overseas visitors about the excellent cuisine to be found in the UK, without reminders of such unhealthy examples. Ok, I'm being a bit of a snob here, but I do think we're playing up our dear old stereotypes when there's no need.

This year's Jubilee is also responsible for an outbreak of bunting - and here I'm guilty of encouraging it as I thought some simple garter stitch pennants in bright colours would be the ideal project for a knitting workshop I'm helping run as part of our local community arts festival.

There are numerous examples of kitschy flowered fabrics snipped into shape and finished with crimped edges - perfect if you want to put on an afternoon tea and serve it on your lawn or in a summerhouse to ladies of a certain age with pressed curls, faces powdered and defiant red lips. I'm afraid I don't know many ladies like that and I'm just as fed up with the tweeness as I am as the giant flags adorning every surface.

Luckily, bunting doesn't have to be kitsch or monarchist - it simply signifies celebration. So while I'm sticking to bunting for its conveniently small size and speediness to create, I'm also slipping in a few non-traditional motifs of my own. After all, Her Maj is Queen of the Commonwealth, which currently comprises 54 countries. That gives us an awful lot more scope than simply red, white and blue.