Jasmine’s Not-so-secret Journal: June 2019

Ingredients:

Butter (to grease)

3 Granny smith apples - cored, leave skin on (about 500g)

2 Oranges

1 1/4 cups (185g) GF plain flour

1 cup (220g) raw or caster sugar

2 tsp GF baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp ground cinnamon

1 cup (250mL) Milk (I use Lite but it’s interchangeable)

4 Large eggs (2 whole, 2 yolks)

2 tsp Vanilla Extract

2 Tbs GF plain flour (extra)

2 tsp Cinnamon sugar (you can mix caster sugar and cinnamon if you need to)

Method:

Preheat oven to 170°C (338°F). Line rectangular pan with baking paper (approx 8cm deep, 30cm long, 18cm wide)
Cut each apple into 5mm thick slices (cut into 8ths and then thinner slices). Juice both oranges. Do not discard peel, grate it finely until you have approx. 2 tsp. Toss apple slices and orange juice together in a medium bowl and set aside.
In a seperate bowl (large), mix together the flour (not including the extra flour), sugar, baking powder, salt and cinnamon.
Then add the milk, 2 whole eggs, orange rind, and vanilla to the flour mixture and make sure there are no lumps. Try not to over mix.
Transfer 1 cup (250mL) of the batter to a seperate bowl and add the extra flour. Stir to combine.
Add 2 egg yolks to the remaining batter (the one without the extra flour) and combine. Mix in the apple mixture.
Spoon the apple batter into prepared tray. Even it out with a spatula and push down the apple slices so the batter covers them. Pour reserved batter evenly over the top.
Sprinkle cinnamon sugar over the top evenly. Bake for 55mins or until golden brown. The middle of your cake will be of a custard-like texture.
Serve warm or cold.

Tips:

Serve with whipped cream or vanilla ice-cream
If you want, you can add some orange liqueur to the apple and orange juice mixture

Note: This is an adaptation of a recipe I found in a Coles magazine.

Here is a teaser for a teen fiction novel I am writing. Any feedback is greatly appreciated...

I awoke to the rich smell of warm coffee. I wiped the gritty sleep out of my eyes and staggered to the kitchen. My flatmate, Stacy, was cooking brekkie and whistling a sweet tune. Stacy and I didn’t really know each other before we moved in together, but we’re trying.

“I made you food,” she sung out.

I smiled at her but grimaced on the inside. Stacy was good at many things but cooking was not one of them. Stacy left for her mid-morning shift at Macca’s and I started making myself a breakfast that was actually edible. I was thankful that I didn’t have to work on weekends. The doorbell rang, loud and clear, reverberating throughout the house. I opened the door, only to be tackled with a hug, instantly greeted with a whirl of dark hair and the scent of fresh strawberries. I awkwardly patted my overly-excited sister on the back as she squeezed me tight, emptying the air from my lungs, which was not very helpful considering I have really bad asthma.

“Breathe...need to... breathe!” I choked.

“Oh sorry, I just missed you so so much!” She said, talking too fast as usual, and thankfully releasing me from her loving death trap.

“I missed you too, B, why didn’t you tell me you’d be in town?”

My older sister, Bianca, loved to travel and she hardly ever stuck to one place. I’m honestly not even sure where she lives anymore. We sat down and had a coffee each – hers decaf – and she told me about her travels in Spain. The pictures were stunning. She left, saying she had an errand to run, telling me she’d call later, although she was always too busy to. I didn’t blame her though, that was just her lifestyle.

I went for my morning run, blasting Bowling for Soup as loud as my earphones would allow. It took me a while to notice I was being followed. I started running faster, but so did they. I changed my path, cutting across the park, so did they. I paused my music but kept my earphones in, pretending to have not noticed them. I faked getting a text so I could look behind me in the reflection of my phone. It was a girl, about my age, maybe slightly older. Like me, she had fire-red hair, which was poking out of the hood of her grey jumper. I found that kind of strange, considering it was like forty degrees outside. I think she saw me looking at her because she stopped. I whirled around to face her, she was closer than I thought she was, only a few metres away.

“Are you following me?” I called. Why not be direct? No point in hiding. I wasn’t scared of her, although I probably should have been.

She nodded her head silently. She then gestured for me to follow and turned on her heel, assuming I would too, and I did. I’m not quite sure why I did, she could have been dangerous, yet I followed her blindly anyway. After what seemed like forever, with her walking way too fast, I caught up to her, puffing. The only reason I had managed to catch up was because she had stopped. She stood there, blankly facing a house I didn’t recognise. I stood there, still out of breath, wondering if she would speak – if she could speak. And finally she spoke.

“I’m Thalia,” she said, still facing the house, which freaked me out a little.

“Um...my name’s Jasper,” she wrinkled her nose at that, “It’s a girls’ name too you know,” I often had people give me funny looks when I told them my name.

“It’s not that. I have a lot to explain,” She was still facing the house.

“So are we, like, going to actually go in, or just stare at it for a while? You know admire some architecture. Wow I love the stonework don’t you?” I asked sarcastically.

She turned to me, looking unimpressed with my attempt at humour.

“We’re waiting,”

“For what?”

“Not what, but who.”

“Who?”

“Him,”

“Him?” I was clearly getting nowhere with this girl.

“Yes. Him. He will come,”

“When?”

“Soon,” She smirked, knowing she was being incredibly frustrating. I folded my arms, giving up on conversation. The mysterious ‘him’ arrived shortly, ‘him’ was a young man, older than me, dressed in a long black trench coat. You know, just your typical summer everyday wear. He beckoned us to follow him into the house. The air was stifling and I longed for my inhaler which I had stupidly left at home. He led us to a long hall with a large wooden table in the centre. The table could easily seat 30, but it was empty.

Thalia sat at the head of the table and the guy in the trench coat disappeared. She had swapped out her hoodie for a black leather jacket, although I didn’t see her do it and I wasn’t even sure where the jacket came from. I could now see her face properly. She looked astonishingly like me, pale skin and green eyes – though they betrayed no warmth. Her hair was much shorter than mine and she didn’t have glasses but otherwise she looked just like me. Oh that is except for the fact she had a nasty looking scar down the left side of her face, narrowly missing her eye. The cut looked like it happened a while ago as it was thin and only slightly red. I looked away quickly, I didn’t want her to think I was staring, although I sort of was. She gestured for me to take a seat, and I did, keeping 6 or 7 seats between us. She had her hands clasped together and her elbows leaning on the table. She gave me a thin smile and took a deep breath before speaking.

“So you’re probably wondering who I am, why you’re here and what’s going on?” her voice didn’t match her face. She sounded like a business-like lady in her 30s. But she only looked about 19.

“Uh yeah that just about sums it up,” I wasn’t keen on sitting still so I grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl in front of me and started tossing it in the air and catching it. She looked at me disapprovingly but I ignored her.

“Well, Autumn, we have a lot to discuss don’t we. Have a cookie,”

“A cookie? Autumn?” Ignoring my questions, she clapped her hands twice, making me jump – which gave her a satisfied smile. The trench coat guy appeared as quickly as he disappeared before holding a tray of what looked like chocolate chip cookies. Although based off the host, they were probably just raisins. I picked one up, inspecting it apprehensively but didn’t eat it. I was always taught to never eat food from a stranger, then again I was also taught not to follow a stranger home and go in their house. Thalia nodded at me encouraging me to eat it I took a bite. Thankfully it wasn’t poisoned or anything but it may as well have, it tasted like Stacy made it.

“Mmm yummy,” I faked a smile, swallowing the cement-mix flavoured cookie.

“That’ll be all, Erik,” Thalia said sternly, the trench coat guy must have been Erik since he left as quick as a flash, before I even had a chance to say thank you for the cookie – although it was horrible.

“So um, nice cookie and all but who are you? And don’t just say Thalia,” I rolled my eyes, expecting only as little information as possible as her answer.

“Okay then. I guess there’s no point beating around the bush. I am your sister. No sorry, not your sister that’s wrong, sorry. I’m your twin.” I sat there gaping at her. Then I shook my head in disbelief.

“No you must have it wrong, Bianca is my sister. She’s my only sister.”

“No, Autumn, I’m your twin. I know this doesn’t make any sense right now but it will,”

“Ha! That proves it! I knew I wasn’t imagining it before. You keep calling me Autumn. My name is Jasper. J A S P E R,” I said each letter slow and condescending like I was teaching a two year old to spell.

“No, it was Autumn, I mean it is Autumn, I...ugh!” She threw her hands up in exasperation and touched the bridge of her nose like I was giving her a headache. I should’ve been the one with the headache; she was making absolutely no sense!

There may be more to come of this novel. Note: I own this story and all the characters in it, please do not copy it.

Jasmine’s Not-so-secret Journal

Sunday, 23 June 2019

All Things Wednesday - Drawings

Saturday, 22 June 2019

Apple Cinnamon Custard Cake Recipe (Gluten Free)

Wednesday, 19 June 2019

Thalia - Drawing

Tuesday, 18 June 2019

Embers - Teaser

Monday, 3 June 2019

A Candle - Drawing