Fancy Dress Etiquette, Halloween Birthdays & a Toffee Apple Cocktail Recipe

My husband’s birthday is two days before Halloween; inevitably the events amalgamate and he has an excuse to dress-up in some ghoulish garb. In recent years, he’s been The Joker from Batman, a horned demon, a hatchet man and the Grim-est Reaper. 

This year, who knows what he’s got up his sleeve? He asked me to extend a fancy-dress party invite to all our friends, and I did a little half-heartedly, adding ‘fancy dress is certainly not compulsory.’

I’ve never been a great fan of fancy dress, for this reason Hallows' Eve makes my heart sink a little. I don’t mind very well-done fancy dress on other people, it’s just that when I wear it, I lack any credibility and find myself apologising for my shoddy-outfit to those born to shine in frippery and trinkets . The truth is, I just feel silly in fancy dress. 

It’s not like I’ve imposed a blanket ban on wearing it to be a party-poop; my arm has certainly been twisted when told I’ll be the only person not wearing it, or if I’m convinced to be part of a fancy dress team (that I can hide behind.) 

My husband jokes I’m not into fancy dress because I’m scared my second self will escape and take me over … me and myself are still laughing. As far as fancy dress etiquette goes, I think : never force anyone to wear it and only do it you are good at it.  

So, the good thing about having a loved one’s birthday this time of the year is that there’s many delicious and inspiring ingredients for a crisp, Autumnal menu. I’m posting my recipe for a scrumptious Toffee Apple Cocktail that can be served  hot or cold (serves 4)

Toffee Apple Vodka Cocktail Recipe (serves 4)

For the toffee syrup, melt 120g of unsalted butter in a saucepan on a low heat with 120g of Muscovado sugar until dissolved. Add 300ml of warm water, a pinch of sea salt, pinch of nutmeg and cinnamon,  a split vanilla pod with its scraped-out seeds and three cloves. Bring to the boil and simmer, and keep stirring until the syrup has thickened and glazes the back of a spoon . Immediately take off the heat and strain out the spices. You can easily increase the quantity, and store the syrup in a sterilised wine bottle in the fridge.

To serve a cold version of this cocktail (per person) blend 50ml cooled toffee sauce, 50ml Crystal Head Vodka or any your preference , a couple of ice cubes and 75ml of organic apple juice. Serve with apple slice that’s been soaked in lemon juice.

For the warm  version (per person), warm  50ml of warm toffee sauce with 100ml of  apple juice in a pan, and stir in 50 ml of vodka before serving.

                                                  

What’s your view on fancy dress etiquette?

Have a happy Halloween… I’ll leave you with the haunting words of Clive Barker:

“Everybody is a book of blood; wherever we're opened, we're red.”

Cumbria Sci-Fi Novel 'The First Sense' - Rated 5 Stars

This week I'm printing a 5 star review of my science-fiction, future fantasy novel based in Cumbria, The First Sense, left on Amazon Kindle  . It was wonderfully detailed, entertaining and heart-warming review for a rainy Sunday. Thank you to reviewer J. Crowther. 

Nisha P Postlethwaite

5.0 out of 5 stars Delicious nouvelle fiction!
By J. Crowther

This review is from: The First Sense (Kindle Edition)

I felt compelled to add a review on here, something which I have never done before, after a friend drew my attention to this book.

I consider myself a bit of a tough crowd when it comes to my tolerance for bad literature, I am a huge fan of David Mitchell, Salman Rushdie, Gary Shteyngart, et al. and am definitely not a fan of chick-lit.

So with my tastes established, I just wanted to add some praise for this debut novel. I found the characterisation to be strong and believable, the elements that set the story in the not-too-distant future are imaginative and entertaining. There are some beautiful pieces of observational descriptive prose, some very moving passages and several genuine belly laughs.

The strongest ingredients of the book are the engaging characters, the storyline, which intrigues and surprises right to the last page, and critically some of the most sumptuous descriptions of food and emotion that I have read since Chocolat. 

I sincerely hope the author is planning 'The Edible Remedy Cookbook' soon, as my mouth will probably never stop watering until I've tasted salt chocolate and toasted peanut muffins, or fennel bread with butternut squash pate, or rosewater and cardamom buns!

Considering this is a self-published book that hasn't gone through the rigorous editing process of a published novel, there are of course a couple of bits of grammatical tinkering to be done, but the absence of the strong editor means you get to taste the book raw, as the author intended it. 

This is no fast-food manufactured pulp fiction, this is lovingly crafted, homemade and delicious story-telling, which you will devour greedily in one sitting!

The Second Letter: The Bitter End of A Relationship

Following the mysterious and somewhat chilling letter I published last week, a second letter appeared on my desk again from 'Dominic' to 'Mia,' and a photograph; I've published both below. 

The story between these two people becomes clearer and is most poignant. If you know anything these people, please enlighten me... I am not sure if they are real or fictional.
N P Postlethwaite

Dear Mia

Grief is a funny thing. It rises like the strong wave of a tide and when it hits, it leaves you breathless; then it ebbs away and you forget your loss for a short time. But today the emotional pain feels more physical - more tangible somehow; I suppose it’s reminding me I’m still here.  

I want to pick up from where we left off but I know I can’t. The last few days have been a total blur; time seems irrelevant when I have no future. 

You have been so silent these last few days; I can see you’re scared by the life growing inside of you, but do you really have to look at me with such cold resentment? I can’t have that you see – I can’t have you poisoning our child with hate through your womb as she grows - poisoning our child against me. 

That is why I’ve made my decision, Mia; this has to end - whatever it is. I’ve made this decision for her, so she will never know how much you hate me for changing your life, for stalling your ambitions, and making you share me. 

I want you to be kind to our child Mia - if you’ve got it in you. I want you to love her well and tell her the good things about me and how we fell in love and were happy in the time that we had, before it all turned sour. Every time I left, I know it killed something in you, Mia, I know, but please leave that out.  

I bet you never knew I could read your feelings so well. Well, I could spot them welling up inside you before you even knew what they were. 

I know your disappointment, Mia; I know you wondered what life would have been like with someone richer, cleverer or more handsome than me - someone that was there for you all the time, who you didn’t have to share. I know you wondered how you ended up being with me, Mia. You don’t have to say it. Your silence speaks volumes. 

Yet Mia I love you. I know sometimes the most beautiful things in life are the ugliest. I’m glad to have known you and loved you, but you know this has to end, before you completely ruin me, and I you.

Dominic 

N P Postlethwaite's novel, The First Sense is now available 

Is This a Break Up Letter or Something Much More Sinister?

Today, I'm publishing an undated letter along with a photograph that was mysteriously forwarded to me this week. I'm wondering what's happened to the person that wrote the letter and the addressee. 

Is this a letter about a relationship break up, a work of fiction, or something much more sinister? I found it really sad, but it also sent a chill right through me.  I sense there is more to come. Readers, your thoughts would be valuable...
N P Postlethwaite

                                  

Dear Mia  

 

I don’t think I’ve ever written a letter, but it feels like the most natural thing to do now and easier than saying these things to you in person. The truth is, I felt us breaking away for some time, but I couldn’t gather up the pieces fast enough to put us back together again – they seemed to run, rather than fall, from my hands. All the while, you pretended everything was normal.

I’ve had a terrible pain in my chest since yesterday and I’ve taken a few of your strong painkillers, but it hasn’t gone. I think it’s heartache. You can’t take pills for that, can you? I don’t know the point where your love became resentment, Mia, but I felt the resentment behind your mask of love, and I know you blame me for cutting short your future. 

You used to greet me with such raw passion, but then I felt flames of hate burning me instead. Yet still, I can’t believe we’ve disintegrated to this wretched state. I keep thinking I can’t cry over you anymore, but I do and I’m surprised by the intensity of my tears and how they leave me feeling completely  crippled. 

I see things from a different perspective now. I see right over our relationship, what we once were, and how pathetic we’ve became. I know I can’t climb back down to where we were, especially now we’ve reached this point; too much has happened and I’m tired of all the secrets.  

I tired Mia, so tired, but I can’t sleep. I don’t know how you can lie there so peacefully, when I am utterly haunted by how you reacted to our news. I know you didn’t intend for me to know how devastated you were, Mia, but nothing you feel escapes me. How you actually felt was the final knife wound to my soul. 

Your bitterness resonates right through me, my love. Sleep escapes me, but I must try. I just want the pain to end. We’ve had our chances. We fucked them all. I’ll finish writing to you soon, but now I’m tired.

Dominic 


N P Postlethwaite's novel, The First Sense is available at http://goo.gl/m1hycJ