Don’t these look festive? Somehow they remind me of Christmas. These rolls came about because rodent on the premises (don’t get me started…) has led to an inventory of the food supplies, uncovering the tub of custard powder we bought on holiday. Yes, when we were holidaying in Bob’s home, we actually looked for Bird’s Custard out of nostalgia ;))) Shockingly we were unable to find any—how could this be possible!!?!—and had to settle for some Moris or Moirs brand, which to my mind, is inferior. If my memory serves me right, Bird’s has more of a vanilla (all fake of course) taste and isn’t this scary yellow bordering on orange. Mind you, this is from someone who eats Bird’s custard once every five years or so. Bob makes it when absolutely desperate for dessert and nostalgic for some comfort food.
Anyway, I must be the only person who can fail with custard powder. It didn’t thicken in spite of all that powder—i suspect I was impatient and heated it up too quickly—and I had to try to salvage it the next day with even more powder. Why would anyone eat this stuff, I wonder. Except we still have almost an entire tub to go through! I’ll add some vanilla in the milk the next time, and I wonder if one can actually add some powder to an actual creme anglaise – i know, the irony of it. But the lack of egg in the custard is really sadly obvious.
I had wanted to make it with fresh raspberries but laziness got the better of me and I used these dried berries we had bought from Italy. We had set out for a walk in the mountains but chanced upon a little market at the foot of the mountain. A lady was selling unusual and gorgeous dried fruits – huge cherries, raspberries, strawberries, kumquat, kiwi, etc. They were amazingly plump, barely sugared, and actually looked and tasted of the original fruit. If I could, I would have bought everything in sight. (And I still regret not buying that olive oil chopping board, sigh). So while they might look like those garish, plastic ‘fruitcake’ mix, they are anything but. It’s funny how some dried fruit in a Ziploc bag can evoke memories, but throwing those berries in made me sad. I remember the forest, the high sun and dappled paths.