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Easter egg

One of the nicest thing about spring in the Cambridgeshire fens is fields like these, full of daffodils. (Completely inedible, but very pretty.) I took this picture from the side of the road heading north; we’ve been away for a few days visiting family in Yorkshire. Some very good things have come out of this for later blogging, including a plastic bag full of wild garlic, a new Australian Women’s Weekly book of Malaysian recipes, three new kinds of thyme, a recipe for Fat Rascals (a Yorkshire spiced bun of exceptional deliciousness) and the most gorgeous Easter egg I have ever, ever seen.

It’s my Easter egg, a present from Dr and Mrs Weasel Senior. (I suppose that at least half of it belongs to my husband, but I am hoping he will mistake it for some art and fail to eat it.) A picture can, in this particular case, speak a thousand words; isn’t it beautiful? These eggs are handmade at the Betty’s bakeries – the glossy dark chocolate has hand-moulded icing roses all over the front.

I can’t bring myself to start eating it. It’s too pretty.

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