Impressive moves

Well, continuing with the theme of our little dance class, last night I really wowed my fellow dancers. Unfortunately not with my dance moves I must confess. It is customary for someone to bring along a cake of some sort which we tuck into along with a glass of spumante at half time. All the calories which we burn off during the first half are immediately thrown back on again with the consumption of the dessert but hey, who’s complaining? Well, it was my turn to bring in the goodies and I must say, the competition was high. Every week, we had been delighted by the fluffiest of sponges, the creamiest of Tiramisus and the most delectable ricotta cheese cakes. I racked my brains – “That’s it!” I cried triumphantly, surrounded by recipe books in my little kitchen. And so it was with pride that I unveiled an apple crumble last night much to the amusement of my fellow dancers. They peered over my shoulder, somewhat confused “Looks like a box of sand” chirped one little Italian man “Are you sure it’s cooked?” quipped another podgy woman. I sighed. They had no idea what this was and yet were so ready with the comments. I made them wait while I ceremoniously spooned our helpings for each attendee. I could tell some of them were thinking “Hah, English food – no chance! A silence fell on the hall apart from the careful munching of the proffered platter. I knew a lot rested on the final opinion of the ‘panel’. One of the builders started “This is great! Can you make it again for us”. I caught his wife eyeing up the remaining portion. The rest of the motley crew nodded approvingly and two of the women asked simultaneously how I made it. Not one to divulge secrets, I answered vaguely with a flamboyant wave of the serving spoon “Oh, a bit of this and a bit of that, then bake for 30 minutes”. Hah, I don’t want everyone making my crumble – where would the exclusivity be in that! And so, all’s well that ends well. The crumble went down a treat and I think fuelled even further the ardour of our dance instructor…