cake break!

The arrival of autumn brings with it that lovely snuggly feeling - along with the usual clichés of swirling golden leaves and endless images of merino-clad people laughing joyously as they frolic through said leaves (before popping into a cosy gastro-pub for a hearty yet healthy Sunday brunch of foraged mushrooms on toasted rye-bread).

And we just love it! Autumn here in North Devon is spectacular - it really is the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.  Toadstools are springing up in the woods like someone has gone mad with the fairydust and the luminous early evening light at dusk peppered with the wheeling dark shadows of the rooks coming in to roost could never be bettered with an Instagram filter. 

And then there are the apples.  In the trees.  On the ground.  On our car roofs. There are apples bouncing around everywhere.  Every village has at least one roadside bucket with a handwritten please help yourself sign at the summit of a mountain of scarlet and green orbs.  The apple crop (following hot on the heels of the risking-life-and-limb harvest of the vergeside blackberry crop) is delicious this year.  Eaters, cookers - all fantastic. 

Jo had popped in for a chat - perfect timing!

...and so this happened.  Nish walked in with a just-out-of-the-oven apple crumble tart.  Tools were downed.  Replies to e-mails were forgotten (sorry Dom) and we not very politely ate it as quickly as possible. 

We've said it before and we'll say it again...Bake-Off next year Nish?!