Knickerbocker glory!

As a child growing up in Mumbles my local ice cream parlour was Fortes. 

Bordering the bus station its blue wicker seating, glass-topped tables and distinctive smell attracted me from a very early age. In the display cabinet at the entrance - that you had to pass - there were examples of the sundaes you could buy and, taking pride of place, a knickerbocker glory.

I longed for a knickerbocker glory, positively yearned for it. It was the unattainability of it as much as anything. The gasps that would go round the customers as one was delivered to the next table, children with eyes popping while parents quickly tried to distract them because it was a prize that only the rich could afford.

So I never had a knickerbocker glory. Until today.

Husband and I took Uncle to Verdis's where in spite of our protestations he insisted it was his treat and, 'Go on, Liz, have a knickerbocker glory.'

I refused at first but, well, it would have been rude.

And it was delicious. Apart from the difficulty of eating it without allowing too many drips of ice cream to escape down the side of the glass and possibly go to waste. And my spoon wasn't narrow enough nor my tongue long enough to get the final bit out of the bottom!

Project Bombard begins!

Having received two rejections in two days (Friday/Saturday) for novel 4 I decided I'd going to have to take this thing seriously or not at all. So on Saturday afternoon I sat down, went through a list of literary agents and chose three lucky winners, each of whom would receive one of my three unpublished novels.

In each case a synopsis, the first three chapters and an introductory email winged its way through the ether and is even now sitting on someone's computer waiting to be read/rejected/recognised for the wonder it is. 

And then we went for a walk that led us to Verdi's. I repeat: if I get fat I shall blame literary agents.

What are the odds of receiving three rejections on the same day? If that happens I shall make myself a Knickerbocker Glory. 

The other day I was remembering Fortes ice cream parlour in Mumbles when I was growing up. There was a display window at the entrance in which they had mock ice cream sundaes, including a Knickerbocker Glory, which took on an out-of-reach quality. Only the very rich would eat one of those surely? (According to this article the KG was 2s 3d.)

I seem to recall that a KG would include some tinned fruit cocktail. None of that in mine. Mine will be ice cream (probably Kelly's Cornish clotted cream and honeycomb), strawberries, bananas, cream, chocolate flake and chocolate buttons, all in lovely luscious layers.

Mmm, I might have to experiment with different combinations ...