Pink nubs and spicy rubs (Spice Trail Fudge)

1005  Gachala, Columbia    Barometric Pressure 29.92  Wind S 2 knots. Chicken evil.

Dear Diary,

Clearly I need to remember any 'little shopping trip' suggested by Miss Ladybird should come with a warning to pack decently stout boots, additional underwear and a spare Enfield. Especially when she asks me to 'collect a few emeralds' on the way for her.

Quite why my guides have been muttering about the gathering darkness and 'La Pollo Maligno' I cannot understand. Apparently it's bad chicken soup tonight or something. Mind you, it's not been a total nightmare of unsuitable mounts and unsavoury bathroom facilities. I was handed a Chica drink by one of our local cooks. Once the world had stopped spinning and we had established just what an invitation to 'see the pink buds' actually entailed, I was show a handsome and very fecund tree with long glossy green leaves and dangling bunches of bright berries.

Clearly related to the Cashew, it contains bountiful bundles of charmingly pink buds around a bitter seed. Although remarkably like black and white peppers in heat, it is nowhere near as harsh and is positively aromatic when rubbed (yes, I know, I'm aware Miss Felice D'Ville has the same reputation but we don't talk about her in public). 

I'm quite convinced they would go extremely well with a touch of Cocoa. In fact our cook has assured me that these little pink nubs have been used since Aztec times in both cooking and brewing, and the French expedition here last week named them Baie Rose. The tree is very vigorous and looks as if it could become quite invasive given a warm climate.

I shall ensure I collect a sample and see what I can do when I return to London...

Diary Update:  0135

Awoke to a considerable squawking and rustling in the bushes and terrified cries of 'La Pollo, La Pollo Malgino!' from our guides. Luckily the Majors training held firm (as does the Major), it turns out the leaves of this lovely new tree are poisonous to fowl, the smell of roasting is now wafting across the campsite and I have a rather nice new cockade for my hat. Honestly though, I'm almost embarrassed to mention it was apparently the 'Evil Chicken' of local legend. Looked like a Black Rock to me. Hardly a destroyer of worlds.

(Incidentally, my lovely little Arc Reactor in the picture was built by the very talented Mr Nick Lock of www.shootthecuff.co.uk -it not only lights up but stores data and is invaluable on expedition.)

The Earl Greys Tart (well, biscuits)

2300 Cairo Landing Strip, Barometric Pressure 30.08 Wind NNE 4 knots, Sphinx Pensive

Dear Diary,

Ran into the Brigadier today! How joyful, although he looks rather drained. Unsurprising as the ongoing vampire attacks seem to be taking their toll on men and machines alike. Although he passed on his regards from the Earl Grey before he retired for a cool drink and long soak. Ah it has been an age since I last saw the Earl - his delicious Bergamot tea has somewhat taken London by storm, and I've not had the heart to tell anybody we were actually using it as an insect repellent after that awful Von Rottenburg let the tea moths loose. Just as well it wasn't kerosene as I can't see that going down terrible well at the Pump Rooms.

Which reminds me.. as I boarded the Earls sleek dirigible, I clearly heard the Lady Grey tell him not to return 'with that tart'. I can only assume she was watching her figure. Never did discover the pie but we ended up in a rather sticky situation and there was some dunking done on the return trip.

Earl Grey and Lemon Dirigible Dunkers:

250g unsalted butter, softened (you can use salted if that's all you have)

150g sugar of some description. Caster by preference.

1 egg

300g flour - plain if you want the biscuits to stay in shape. 

Zest of 2 lemons and a squeeze of juice

About 200g icing sugar

3 good quality Earl Grey Teabags

Stoke your oven to 180c/160c if you have a fan, Gas Mark 4 or 'moderately hot' if you don't have any way of measuring it.

Warm the butter and beat soundly together with the sugar until pale and fluffy. Using a mechanical device for this is perfectly acceptable and tastes just the same as a wooden spoon.

Add the egg and open the teabags, shaking the contents into the mix as you go. If you have a mortar and pestle to hand, it is a good idea to grind the tea finely before you add it. Otherwise you may get the odd stray chewy bit. Beat until well mixed. Add in the zest of one lemon.

Stir in the flour to form a fairly stiff dough. If it's too runny, add more flour and get your hands in there to knead it. Roll it out, cut to your desired shape and place on a lightly buttered tray. Place in your pre-heated oven and keep an eye on them until they are golden brown - this will be somewhere between 10-15 minutes, depending on how hot your oven is and how thinly you rolled them.

Take out and allow to cool. Mine seemed a bit floppy at first, but the Earl was right to tell me to be patient - everything stiffened up after a few moments. Once they are suitably firm (and cool) mix your lemon juice and remaining zest into your icing sugar until a slightly runny paste is formed. Paint this over the top of your biscuits (or dunk them in it) and leave to set. 

Make a large pot of Earl Grey tea.