my revered mother, who was not from Yorkshire made very fine Yorkshire pudding. no idea how she did it though. sorry, no help. but it was Yorkshire pudding. always singular. it was made in a tray and cut into squares. i have never found anything like it since.
long ago days, and her sharpening the knife on the granite slab in the back yard, and plucking the mint.
wish i'd told her how wondrous it all was. but too stupid to realise it would all be gone so soon. and her.
July 23 Limerick (continuation of July 21)