Delicious Delicious Delicious

Spice School: Simple Potato Curry

2012-01-31T09:03:00.001Z

I know. No sugar. Do not readjust your screens: DDD has gone savoury!

Dish Name: Simple Potato Curry
Spice: Mustard Seeds
Level: Tiffinwalla

With those pesky lamingtons out of the way for another year, I am free to shout from the roof tops about the real excitement going on this January: Spice School is finally underway!

I have had to keep this fairly quiet recently (though credit is due to the more eagle eyed among you who noticed me add the little tab up there in the menu a few weeks ago), and am so happy to be writing the first proper post about Delicious Delicious Delicious and Ko Rasoi's collaborative series. You can read all about it here, but the short version is this: Sanjana is teaching me how to become a Spice Guru. Over the next 12 months, we're going to cover the basics (and beyond!) of Indo-Vegetarian cuisine, and I am so excited about it I'm semi-palpitating.

Really!

I hope you at home reading follow along (or even cook) with us and get as much out of this as we do. You have no idea how long we've been wanting to do this, and the both of us really want you to enjoy it.

So, the first assignment for Spice School uses mustard seeds and is called Simple Potato Curry. I should say up front that I was a little disappointed when I read its title. I'd imagined that this project would have me grappling with far more complex dishes than this (not that it tastes 'simple', mind you). However, as it happened, I had such a busy few days last week that the time I'd planned to devote to my first assignment had to be put to, ahem, let's say 'other uses' (basically, ironing - the pile of shirts in the corner was starting to resemble Kilimanjaro, thanks to Mr. Other P who wears shirts socially as well as to the office). I ended up with a scant hour and a half on Monday afternoon to shop, cook and photograph this curry, but managed it with ease. And actually, this is exactly what I wanted to get out of Spice School. I asked Sanjana to teach me to cook Indian food; that doesn't mean only complicated, elaborate and involved Indian dishes (though I suspect they're on their way!). Despite being rushed off my feet, I still managed to get a richly spiced, sprightly, tomato-based curry on the table in under thirty minutes, and learn a few new tricks in the process. I'd say that was not bad going for first attempt.

Mustard seeds aren't new to me; I make a great salad from time to time of shredded carrots, chopped cucumbers and lemon juice, with oil and mustard seeds. It's pretty special, but in this curry, the mustard seeds really are the star. Their rounded spiciness is carried all the way through the slightly sour tomato gravy and accented by the cumin which is added after the hot oil has caused the mustard seeds to pop and release their beautiful fragrance. I know I sound like a bad wine critic, but it's true: this is a really fragrant, spicy curry (though not overly hot, so don't be afraid, Chilli Fearers). I'll definitely be making it again.

Some things I learned from my first assignment:

Preparation is essential - chopping everything only took about three or four minutes, but once the mustard seeds start popping there's not long before they start to burn. Having your spices to hand, and garlic and chilli ready to go will mean everything runs smoothly.
Cooking each spice until you can smell them before adding the next - for example, adding the cumin after the mustard seeds have burst, and waiting to add the garlic and chili until you can smell the cumin - is important. There's no stock used in this dish to add flavour. Everything is natural, so making sure the spices are properly cooked is essential.
Crushing some of the potatoes and returning them to the curry to thicken it is the idea of a genius. It worked perfectly, and the texture of the dish was fantastic.

And now the confession that no student ever wants to make to their teacher - that I didn't follow the instructions exactly as they were written. I couldn't find any red chillies in my local Indian shop and didn't want to make a shopping expedition out of it, so I replaced the chopped red chilli with a long, green finger chilli. Which I didn't even chop; I just pricked it with a fork a few times and left it whole.

In a further display of arrogance and my inability to accept authority, I think I may have added slightly more ginger than required. I think I just love my microplane grater too much. It still tasted wonderful though, despite my rule breaking...

(Sorry, Sanjana - I hope this doesn't mean I fail!)

So that's it. First assignment done and dusted. I'm already looking forward to next month's, and hope you come back to see how I do. And of course, if you make this recipe yourself, let Sanjana and me know how you liked it. Because you surely will!

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Simple Potato Curry

You will need:

1.2kg potatoes, cut into 1-inch dices
2 tbsp oil
1 tsp mustard seeds
½ tsp asafoetida (optional)
1 tbsp concentrated tomato puree
½ tsp cumin seeds
500g chopped tomatoes (fresh or tinned)
½ tsp turmeric
1 tbsp ginger, grated
1 tbsp fresh red chilli, chopped finely
1 large clove garlic, crushed
400ml hot water
2 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
Handful fresh coriander, chopped

Heat the oil in a large non-stick pan (one that has a lid – you will need it later). Add the mustard seeds and wait for them to pop. Next, add the cumin seeds, asafoetida, ginger, chilli and garlic.
Add the tomato puree, chopped tomatoes, salt, sugar, turmeric, and hot water. Bring to the boil.
Add the potatoes and stir to combine. Place a lid on top of the curry and turn the heat down. Allow to gently simmer for around 20 minutes or until the potatoes are tender.
Remove the lid and place 1/8 of the curry into a bowl. Mash the potatoes with a fork and return to the rest of the curry. This will thicken the sauce and give the dish a great finish. Garnish with freshly chopped coriander and serve.

Re-Inventing the Lamington 2012 Day Ten: Half and Half Lamingtons

2012-01-26T10:56:00.000Z

(In which Mr. P makes a half-arsed attempt at justifying shoddy ideas.)

Happy Australia Day folks!

These are not the most inspired lamingtons of my life, let's face it.

The idea was there; I wanted to re-create the half and half cookies I eat whenever I'm in New York. It's been far too long since I was last there, and there's a little deli I know that does really yummy sugar cookies with that well-known, half black half white icing. I thought it would really work as a lamington, and it isn't that it is bad so much as it's just... Kind of like a regular lamington, only dipped in white chocolate. I feel slightly fraudulent claiming that they've been 'Re-Invented'.

Still. Let's not moan. It's the end of my Ten Days of Re-Invention. It's been really fun this year! You know, the last one is always a bit of a 'Scrape the Barrell Lamington', since I've usually run out of steam, but I've made some truly yummy lams in 2012 so I'm not going to feel bad. The popcorn versions were sensational! I'm also pleased to say that there has been a steady stream of entries for my prize draw from you lovely lot, and I can't wait to share them with you all. Remember, the deadline is 31 January. You still have the weekend to bake up a storm!

Before I give you the recipe for these (it's basic butter cake again, so you know they taste of sin), I'm just wondering if any of you readers live in areas that are famous for baking? New York has its half and half cookies, and well, Australia obviously has its lamingtons. What about where you live?

And before you ask: no. Cardiff is not famous for Krispy Kreme. Though it is famous for Welsh Cakes. Maybe I should post a recipe for those...

Half and Half Lamingtons

You will need:

175g plain flour
175g soft butter
175g caster sugar
3 eggs
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp vanilla extract
3 tbsp milk

500g plain chocolate
200g dessicated coconut
150g white chocolate

First, make the butter cake. Grease and line a 20cm square cake tin, and pre-heat the oven to 180°C.
In a large bowl, using an electric mixer, beat the flour, sugar, butter, eggs, milk, baking powder and vanilla together until you have a smooth batter. Scrape this into the prepared cake tin and level out. Bake for 25 minutes or until the cake tests done. That means that when you stick a cocktail stick (or a piece of spaghetti!) into the centre of the cake, it will come out clean, without any uncooked batter clinging to it.
Cool the cake in the tin on a wire rack, and when completely cold, turn out and slice into 16 squares.
Melt the plain chocolate, cool slightly and have ready the coconut in a separate dish. Make your lamingtons: working quickly, dip the cake cubes into the chocolate and immediately roll them in the coconut.
Allow the cubes of cake to dry for an hour, then melt the white chocolate and repeat the dipping. However, this time, only dip the lamingtons half way. I didn't like the way they looked when rolled in coconut for a second time, but you can do so if you wish. There should be enough coconut.

Re-Invent the Lamington Yourself!

Re-Inventing the Lamington 2012 Day Nine: Coconut Ice 'Inspired' Lamingtons

2012-01-25T09:38:00.003Z

(In which Mr. P gains joy through bitterness.)

I recently had an experience about which I would like to tell you. It involves Krispy Kreme donuts and has a happy ending, though starts off rooted deeply in sad embarrassment for my beloved city of Cardiff.

On our way, we'll move briefly through the wilds of false advertising and the disappointment that it causes too. What can I say? We are today having a morning of moral tales.

Last year, Krispy Creme opened a branch in Cardiff's newest shopping centre. This made the national press and even got a mention on the Visit Cardiff website.

I hang my head in shame.

I have nothing against Krispy Kreme. But really: is having one a reason to visit the Welsh capital? Worthy of an article in the newspaper when they open a new shop? What about our great independent restaurants and bars? What about the farmer's market? If having a Krispy Kreme has put Cardiff on the map, well, I think that's an embarrassment. A real, big, sugar coated embarrassment.

But enough of my moaning about their opening and the excitement it caused. Time to moan about their actual donuts. This past Summer, there was a huge poster campaign for their 'Summer Favourites'. I was ridiculously excited to see that this included a coconut ice donut, although I failed to see the Summer connection. (Is that just me?)

Coconut ice is one of my favourite confections in the whole world. Coconut, icing sugar and condensed milk compacted together to form a wodge of heavenly scented sweetness, it is unbeatable. But don't tell my dentist I said so. He'll be angry.

Basically, I ♥ Coconut Ice.

So imagine my disappointment... The donut version was awful. I was distraught. Raspberry flavoured glaze (there's no raspberry in the original sweet) and a gloopy, artificially flavoured coconut 'crème' filling made up this 'treat'. I felt tears in the corners of my eyes, and ill with grief. Money wasted, the donut was never finished.

Sad face. I should have sued them. Advertising a coconut ice donut without any actual coconut ice flavour. The nerve!

Time passed. I forgot the donut tragedy.

However, when thinking about this year's lamington challenge, I remembered this cake and wanted to try the coconut and raspberry combination again, but as a lamington. I also remembered my love of glazed lamingtons (which I think are not technically lamingtons at all, since we're doing away with the chocolate completely!), and low and behold, that ridiculous Krispy Kreme glaze gave me an idea.

Raspberry glazed coconut lamingtons!

My version uses fresh raspberry purée to create a glaze so luridly pink it actually shocks. Happily, the coconut tempers it somewhat, but it has made me very pleased to note that severe donut disappointment can sometimes end in supreme joy. These are my favourite lamingtons of 2012.

But don't tell the others! They'll dissent.

I give you my Coconut Ice 'Inspired' Lamingtons. Eat them. Profess your love. To them and to me. You'll see.

NB: I made these with left over chiffon from the lamingtons of Day Seven, but you could use butter cake or even make them from this recipe, which would also taste sensational.

Coconut Ice 'Inspired' Lamingtons

You will need:

115g plain flour
150g caster sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
60ml vegetable oil
5 egg whites
4 egg yolks
90ml coconut milk
40g dessicated coconut
1 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 tsp cream of tartar

1/2 cup fresh or frozen raspberries (defrosted if using frozen)
1 cup icing sugar
hot water as needed

200g dessicated coconut (or even grated fresh coconut, if you had the time and energy)

Heat the oven to 160°C. Have ready a deep 23cm springform cake tin. Do not grease or line it. If you have a 'not nonstick' (for want of a better description) one, so much the better.
In a large bowl, mix everything except for the eggs whites and cream of tartar together using a wire whisk, or wooden spoon. Beat everything well until you have a thick, smooth mixture.
Beat the egg whites until foamy, then add the cream of tartar and beat until stiff peaks are formed. Fold this meringue into the coconut and flour mixture, and transfer to the cake tin.
Bake for 35 minutes, until the cake is well risen and a cocktail stick inserted into the centre of the cake comes out clean.
Immediately invert the cake, till in its tin, on a wire rack and leave to cool. When it has completely cooled (give it a good hour or so), run a knife round the edge of the pan and un-clip the tin. Remove the base (you'll need to use your knife here too - chiffon cake sticks to the pan!), turn the cake the right way up and cut into squares or whatever shape you like. Hearts would be great here, since the lamingtons are bright, bright pink.
Make the glaze. Mash the raspberries and icing sugar together, adding hot water as needed to get a mixture that is the consistency of thin cream and lump free. Basically, thin enough to coat the cake cubes but thick enough to stick; adjust quantities of sugar/water as needed. Sorry for cup measurements by the way - I know that grams are more accurate, but with something like this glaze, you can pretty much just wing it.
Dip the cake cubes into the glaze and then roll in the coconut. Allow to set before eating the majority, but allow yourself and a loved one a couple of them while still wet: these are truly delicious.

Re-Invent the Lamington Yourself!

Re-Inventing the Lamington 2012 Day Eight: White Chocolate and Rosemary Lamingtons

2012-01-24T09:13:00.001Z

No Kewpies. An 'All In Good Taste' lamington.

I find that as I get older I become less and less excited about new and unusual sounding flavour combinations, in much the same way that I grow less and less tolerant of cheap bin liners, but the world keeps throwing them out at me regardless.

We do not need mackerel flavoured macarons (scroll down and for God's sake, someone please tell them in Brittany!), foie gras flavoured ice-cream (you know, I love SF, but for this, I hate it) or azuki frappuccino ('Taste the daydream'? Taste the sick more like...). We do not and never have. So why are they being produced then? It is a mystery worthy of Holmes and Watson.

I can say though, no word of a lie, that today's lamington recipe is a thing of great beauty and deliciousness. I know this having eaten one mere moments ago, but can offer further evidence in support of the combination of white chocolate and rosemary, though it is anecdotal since I never posted the cake to which I shall now refer; you must believe me. I implore you.

Last Summer I made an apple and rosemary loaf cake and topped it with white chocolate cream cheese frosting. The one from this cake. And it was killer. We ate the lot. I meant to re-bake it and post it, but life got in the way. I did take something away from the experience though, and that was that my favourite flavour pairing in the cake was not the rosemary and apple, but the rosemary and white chocolate. It just worked.

These lamingtons are a little different to that original cake. Obviously, there's no apple included, but I have also added the herb to the icing (well, coating), rather than the cake. It's quite a lot stronger this way (and rather surprising as well, because you can't actually see the flecks of rosemary in there; the coconut obscures them), but I like it like this. I can't claim that it was on purpose mind you. I actually forgot to add the little pile of rosemary I had chopped in readiness to the rich batter that made up the cake component of today's lams. This is what happens when you have only two days to Re-Invent and 10 lamington recipes to come up with - you turn into a sieve-for-brain-nincompoop.

I'd like to draw attention to the lovely flowers my rosemary bush was covered with, which garnish the lamington you see here. Further evidence of global warming? Well, maybe. But pretty at any rate.

White Chocolate and Rosemary Lamingtons

You will need:

175g plain flour
175g soft butter
175g caster sugar
3 eggs
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp vanilla extract
3 tbsp milk

1 tbsp chopped fresh rosemary (I don't have any dried stuff, but it would work here, though I'd only use 1 tsp)

500g white chocolate
200g dessicated coconut

First, make the butter cake. Grease and line a 20cm square cake tin, and pre-heat the oven to 180°C.
In a large bowl, using an electric mixer, beat the flour, sugar, butter, eggs, milk, baking powder and vanilla together until you have a smooth batter. Scrape this into the prepared cake tin and level out. Bake for 25 minutes or until the cake tests done. That means that when you stick a cocktail stick (or a piece of spaghetti!) into the centre of the cake, it will come out clean, without any uncooked batter clinging to it.
Cool the cake in the tin on a wire rack, and when completely cold, turn out and slice into 16 squares.
Melt the chocolate, cool slightly and mix in the chopped rosemary. Use this mixture to make your lamingtons: working quickly, dip the cake cubes into the chocolate and immediately roll them in the coconut.
They can be laid out on greaseproof paper to dry and set, and if you want to garnish with fresh rosemary flowers, like I did, be sure to put the flower stems into the lamingtons while the chocolate is still fairly liquid. Otherwise it will solidify and you'll find it impossible (read: very difficult) to break through the crisp shell.

Re-Invent the Lamington Yourself!

Re-Inventing the Lamington 2012 Day Seven: Chiffon Cake Lamingtons

2012-01-23T09:17:00.002Z

(In which Mr. P comes over all glamorous.)

I have spoken at length about my love of chiffon cakes. Something I absolutely adore about them is that they are really, truly old fashioned. As well as being unheard of in the UK.

When you find a recipe for one in old American cook books (so I'm told - no old cook books here!), the cakes are often described as 'elegant'. Clearly, after the war, and rationing, for housewives to be considered elegant again when entertaining their dinner guests was a big deal. It explains why, along with the hefty clout of Betty Crocker and General Mills marketing powers, the chiffon rose to fame, before swiftly falling from grace some time later. (I've always loved a fallen angel.)

I do actually agree with those old recipe books. There is something very sophisticated about a real chiffon baked in a tube pan. The shape, the smooth sides and airy texture are all very 1950s trophy wife, very gingham print apron and heels.

Another reason I love them.

Today's lamingtons have taken inspiration from all this and are therefore my elegant, deconstructed lamingtons. They take the classic lamington make up of cake (flavoured with coconut and vanilla here), chocolate icing (sour cream ganache for me - not trad., but horrendously yummy) and coconut, but the composition is very different. It is chic. Beautiful without screaming 'look-at-me!!'. An instant classic.

At least that's what I think. How about you?

Use my adapted recipe for coconut vanilla chiffon if you make these; no tube pan required. I'm repeating the recipe below.

Deconstructed Chiffon Cake Lamingtons

You will need:

115g plain flour
150g caster sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
60ml vegetable oil
5 egg whites
4 egg yolks
90ml coconut milk
40g dessicated coconut
1 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 tsp cream of tartar

200g plain chocolate (not more than 60% cocoa solids, or it will be bitter)
100g sour cream (at room temperature!!)

a large handful of coconut chips

Heat the oven to 160°C. Have ready a deep 23cm springform cake tin. Do not grease or line it. If you have a 'not nonstick' (for want of a better description) one, so much the better.
In a large bowl, mix everything except for the eggs whites and cream of tartar together using a wire whisk, or wooden spoon. Beat everything well until you have a thick, smooth mixture. Obviously, 'everything' does not include the chocolate, sour cream or coconut chips; they are for garnish later.
Beat the egg whites until foamy, then add the cream of tartar and beat until stiff peaks are formed. Fold this meringue into the coconut and flour mixture, and transfer to the cake tin.
Bake for 35 minutes, until the cake is well risen and a cocktail stick inserted into the centre of the cake comes out clean.
Immediately invert the cake, till in its tin, on a wire rack and leave to cool. When it has completely cooled (give it a good hour or so), run a knife round the edge of the pan and un-clip the tin. Remove the base (you'll need to use your knife here too - chiffon cake sticks to the pan!), turn the cake the right way up and slice the cake into cubes. You can eat the cut off round edges as a baker's treat.
Make the ganache just before serving. Melt and cool the chocolate and allow to cool slightly before stiring in the sour cream. Instant, delicious ganache. Yum.
Top each cube with a generous spoonful of ganache and sprinkle with the sweetened coconut chips. Devour. Elegantly.

Re-Invent the Lamington Yourself!

Re-Inventing the Lamington 2012 Day Six: Funfetti Failure Lamingtons

2012-01-22T13:28:00.000Z

Stupid.

(In which Mr. P expresses regret for the lamingtons that never were.)

I had this idea, way back at the start of the original Re-Inventing the Lamington in 2010, of making lamingtons out of rainbow cake, using the recipe for my Rocky Horror Cupcakes as the base. They were going to be Sydney Pride Lamingtons (for the gays!), and I was going to tell you all in the post about how Sydney's famous Mardi Gras ruined my life in 2008 when I was travelling back (or trying to) on standby from Singapore at the time it was going on. We (me and him indoors) had been in Malaysia, but hadn't even considered what was happening Down Under and its effect on our plans. Why would we? We were strictly Equatorial, nothing Southern Hem. about us.

Mistake.

Rule #1 of standby travel: consider if your destination is a connections hub. It effectively doubles the number of passengers flying there, and halves the number of available seats.

I wasn't flying with my own airline so my priority was pretty much non-existent. And do you know how many airline emplyees were flying in and out of Australia for that damned Mardi Gras? GABILLIONS!

You know, Singapore is lovely, but being stuck there at the airport watching hung over revellers who haven't even been there for longer than a few hours getting on planes ahead of you even though you were there first is not. Especially when you have to get back for a flight duty.

Needless to say, we made it, at great personal expense. But the memory is a bitter one. And I never got round to making the lamingtons that the story inspired, so it has until now gone unshared.

But, I still liked the idea of a party lamington and decided to get hold of some Pilsbury Funfetti Cake mix as an easy alternative to the food colouring nightmare that is the RHC. Easy but expensive. Do you know what it costs to buy that stuff in the UK? It was out of the question. I decided to appropriate my own version using Victoria sandwich batter and my beloved sanding sugars in blue and purple. Well, I do love a challenge.

While the cake was baking, I watched a program about the Great Barrier Reef and, well, shave my legs and call me Grandpa if it didn't feature that crazy old hunk of corals glowing purple, blue and green under UV lights at night. This in itself didn't excite me (though it was pretty), but it did make me think it would be appropriately Australian to change things up and make a Great Barrier Reef Lamington out of my baking cakes instead of the Sydney Pride version.

Well, reader, I'm pro change. I envisaged cubes of purple, blue and green flecked cake, coated with ganache and blue sanding sugar (to represent the ocean) - the Smurfs of the lamington world. I thought how fun it would be to accessorise the pictures I would take with plastic fish and coral. (Well, fun of sorts.)

But upon slicing the cakes, I realised, to my great dismay, that it was not to be. The sanding sugars had, well, sort of 'baked out'. The colours were muted. I won't lie: I was momentarily devastated. I think making all these lamingtons in such a short space of time had gotten to me to be honest. The clean up takes so long; it gets me down. Add that to unexpected colour loss, and the tears were ready to fall.

But am I not pro change? Am I not made of sterner stuff? I decided to just get on with it, and turned these into my failed-but-still-enjoyed lamingtons. The fact is, the cake part is butter cake. It looks a little funky with it's oddly dispersed waves of colour, but it tastes delicious. Lamington disasters do occur. Remember Mathea's house fire? I guess I should feel glad that my disaster is only botched cake.

Funfetti Failure Lamingtons

You will need:

175g plain flour
175g soft butter
175g caster sugar
3 eggs
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp vanilla extract
3 tbsp milk

1 tbsp of sanding sugar in each of your three chosen colours

400g dark chocolate
200g crème fraïche (or sour cream) at room temperature

200g dessicated coconut (I like to use really finely chopped stuff)

First, make the butter cake. Grease and line a 20cm square cake tin, and pre-heat the oven to 180°C.
In a large bowl, using an electric mixer, beat the flour, sugar, butter, eggs, milk, baking powder and vanilla together until you have a smooth batter. Scrape this into the prepared cake tin and level out. Do this in three batches, sprinkling a little of the sanding sugars in each colour over the top after each layer. Bake for 25 minutes or until the cake tests done. That means that when you stick a cocktail stick (or a piece of spaghetti!) into the centre of the cake, it will come out clean, without any uncooked batter clinging to it.
Cool the cake in the tin on a wire rack, and when completely cold, turn out and slice into 16 squares.
Make the ganache: Melt the chocolate, cool slightly and mix together with the crème fraïche until you have a smooth icing. I always use crème fraïche for ganache now by the way; you can use it instantly, unlike double cream-based ganache which takes thirty seven years to cool and thicken.
Make the lamingtons: working quickly, dip the cake cubes into the ganache coating evenly. Immediately roll them in the coconut and set on a sheet of greaseproof paper to dry.
Or don't do any of this. These are failure lamingtons after all.

Re-Invent the Lamington Yourself!

Re-Inventing the Lamington 2012 Day Five: Marshmallow and Rice Krispie Lamingtons

2012-01-21T11:11:00.002Z

Teddie looked on longingly. How he wished he could join in with Lamington Jenga! But the fear of Watermelon Kewpie's anger when she found out he'd lost her copy of 'Catch-22' at the teddy bears' picnic kept him away...

(In which Mr. P finds a friend in fine literature of the 20th Century.)

Watermelon Kewpie would be pretty mad with me as well. Teddy didn't lose her copy of 'Catch-22'. I have it! Ha ha ha!

And she's not getting it back.

The reason? I identify too strongly with Yossarian. I offer the following as evidence:

... there were many officers' clubs that Yossarian had not helped build, but he was proudest of the one on Pianosa. It was a sturdy and complex monument to his powers of determination. Yossarian never went there to help until it was finished; then he went there often, so pleased was he with the large, fine, rambling shingled building. It was truly a splendid structure, and Yossarian throbbed with a mighty sense of accomplishment each time he gazed at it and reflected that none of the work that had gone into it was his.

Is that not the exact story of me and my lazy-arse Chocolate Fudge Brownie Lamingtons? Well, what can I say? Why work hard when Ghiradelli can do it for you?

'Catch-22' was my 'A'-Level English Lit. teacher's favourite novel. He used to quote the opening as the greatest first paragraph of any novel ever written, though since this is my first time reading the book (SHAME! I'll be 30 next birthday!!), I'll have to let you know if I agree with his praises. So far, so good.

Anyhow, today's offering is Marshmallow and Rice Krispie Lamingtons, and let me be 100% clear about this: I plagiarised the idea, shamefully and shamelessly, from Mary the Food Librarian (who judged Re-Inventing the Lamington 2011 along with Edd, who wrote the book that is this year's prize, and Stef of the great CCP). I saw her Rice Krispie Bundt and knew right then and there that there was lamington potential. And there was: these are the light weight, appetite-saving lams. I can eat three in one sitting, though admittedly I did make them small.

Want to make some too? Here's how:

Marshmallow and Rice Krispie Lamingtons

You will need:

50g butter
300g marshmallows
200g Rice Kripies

200g milk chocolate
100g dessicated coconut

Butter generously a 20cm square cake tin (or similar: you'll be cutting them up anyway, so size, as they say, doesn't matter).
Over a low heat, melt the butter and marshmallows. Stir constantly!!
Remove from the heat, stir in the Rice Krispies and then pour into the prepared tin and level the surface. This is to ensure nice, neat, crisp edges on the lamingtons. Set aside for a few hours (or overnight) to set.
Cut the block of 'confection' (well, it's not a cake is it? What do we call these things?) into small squares or rectangles, or whatever shape you like.
Melt the chocolate, put the coconut into a shallow bowl and then get dipping and rolling. You could use something else instead of coconut if you liked. Flaked chocolate would be amazing.
When the coating has set, serve with gleeful abandon!

Re-Invent the Lamington Yourself!

Re-Inventing the Lamington 2012 Day Four: The Lamingtini

2012-01-20T09:10:00.002Z

(In which Mr. P revisits Brideshead, and the lamington gets a look in as well.)

The fact is, readers, quite a few of my lamington creations in the past have been inspired by drinks, and not just any old beverages. In the main, they have been rather naff drinks from my liqueur cabinet. Witness and appreciate the violet liqueur infused Purple Rain Lamington (my, my, they were delicious), the Pina Colada Lamington (a joy!), and my botched Snowball Lamington (well, you can't see that one because it never made it onto here, but rest assured: there WAS Advocaat and there WAS lime zest. It just... Never quite came into being.) for proof.

Alcohol can be a real brain stormer.

Anyway. While plundering the 'stash' looking for inspiration this year, I thought it was time to give the lamington a drinks cabinet makeover and create a cocktail in its honour. I'm glad I had this idea by the way, because on the reserve list was a Tanqueray and Tonic Lamington, which actually, probably would have been vile.

That just shows you how non-elitist my cocktail cupboard is by the way. The Tanqueray sits quite happily next to the Malibu and Tia Maria, and they all get along fine. Why just yesterday I heard them discussing at great length the best way to rim the glass when making Salty Dog, and honestly, I felt for a short moment that we really were living in a society free from class bias.

Sadly I have to get back to the point.

Meet the Lamingtini. It's not technically of the Martini family, I actually based it on a Brandy Alexander, but using rum, coconut rum and (don't laugh) chocolate milk. In my defence, I couldn't think of a way to get chocolate in there without buying Crème de Cacao, and we've no room in the cupboard. Plus, Frijj is actually pretty good stuff. Don't knock a good thing.

I have a great soft spot for Brandy Alexander by the way, because of that heart breaking (to me at least) scene in Brideshead Revisited (the TV series - sadly I never made it past the first few pages of the novel, which you'd think I'd prefer given it's lack of Jeremy Irons.) when Anthony Blanche orders four of them ('two for you and two for me, yum yum'). If none of you know what I'm talking about, get yourself the DVDs. Though beware: they do feature Jeremy Irons.

I can't find the picture of all the bottles that I took to illustrate the abundance our cupboard contains, but if I remember to look it up, I definitely will post it for you. You'll just have to believe me when I say that I am not an alcoholic, just a young man in his very late twenties with a lust for life and an addiction to kitsch.

The Lamingtini

You will need:

1 measure dark rum (I used Mount Gay, which normally goes in my Rum Punches)
1 measure coconut rum (I used Malibu, which is for my Snow Queens)
3 measures Frijj chocolate milk (though you could use cream, and change the dark rum to Crème de Cacao)

Put some ice cubes into a cocktail shaker, and pour in the rum, coconut rum and chocolate milk.
Shake for a minute or until your hands are so cold they feel like they might fall off.
Strain into a chilled Martini glass.
Garnish with optional mini-Lamington.

Re-Invent the Lamington Yourself!

Re-Inventing the Lamington 2012 Day Three: Brigadeiro Lamingtons

2012-01-19T09:00:00.001Z

Slightly festive is today's Kewpie, yes.
But then we are joining sweets from different corners of the globe.
It's cause for (trouserless) celebration!

(In which Mr. P travels without moving. For once.)

(I always disliked Jamiroquai by the way. Greatly. It was the stupid hats. So don't start...)

Greetings, friends. Today, we are off to Argentina, and we don't even need to leave the kitchen. Which I know my more local readers will particularly appreciate: it is FREEZING out there. As it is inside my kitchen as well, truth be told. Mr. Other P has done something to the boiler and I can't get the heating to come on properly. He doesn't like me to keep warm during the day, evidently.

I say we're going to Argentina, but in actual fact, we might end up in Brazil. You see, my recipe book says that brigadeiros are Argentinian, but my mate Wiki seems to think otherwise. Whatever: I bet both countries' people and the good men and women of Australia alike will think I am pushing the boundaries of what can correctly be called a brigadeiro (or indeed a lamington) with today's gift to you, my sweets. But I face all criticism head on. These are yummy little goodies, and took about five minutes to make (plus cooling time), which is more than you can say for any more 'trad' kind of a 'lam'.

Brigadeiros are little chocolate flavoured caramels made from condensed milk, cocoa powder and nothing else. That's it. Two ingredients only. They are, apparently, ubiquitous at children's birthdays in Argentina, and let me just say right now, would be more than welcome at my birthday party too. They are like a homemade Toffee Poppet, and with my lamington-inspired coconut exterior, have taken my respect for condensed milk and things that can be made from it to a whole new level. I remember once wanting to produce 'I♥HFW' pin badges, such was my love for the great gentleman of River Cottage. But 2012's buttons will only read 'I♥♥♥CM', and no doubt take the fashion world by a storm.

I got the idea for these from "Green and Black's" Chocolate Recipes, but have adapted the recipe and method a little, as well as adding coconut (and let's face it, removing the cake - these are lamingtons after all. Though in my eyes only, perhaps!). Please try them: they are fabulous.

This not-particularly-lovely-looking cocoa-caramel is what you have after completing stage
one of the recipe. Fear not: your Brigadeiro Lamingtons will end up looking just fine, I promise.

Brigadeiro Lamingtons

You will need:

1 can of condensed milk
2 tbsp cocoa powder
4 tbsp dessicated coconut

Over a low heat, in a medium saucepan, combine the first two ingredients. Stir occasionally until the mixture boils, and then mix constantly until it comes together and forms a ball. Be careful. It will get quite hot. This will take less than ten minutes, by the way, and you do not need a sugar thermometer. Easy peasy!
Allow to cool until you can touch the chocolate-brown caramel without burning yourself. Then, pinch off chunks of mixture and roll them into small balls between the palms of your hands.
Next, roll the balls in the coconut. If they are still warm-ish, it should stick easily. If they have cooled slightly too much (it's January, after all...), grease your palms with a little butter when rolling the remainder of the brigadeiros, and the coconut should adhere a little better.
Allow to cool completely and eat.

Re-Invent the Lamington Yourself!

Re-Inventing the Lamington 2012 Day Two: Chocolate Fudge Brownie Lamingtons

2012-01-18T09:08:00.003Z

Moist!

(In which Mr. P does the unthinkable.)

No plastic pandas today, unfortunately. Just my good taste chinaware. Don't be too disappointed though, because tomorrow we have the return of the Kewpie. It's been too long without them, hasn't it?

I have a confession today. I've been keeping a big, dirty and reputation-destroying secret from you. For much too long. I feel like it's eating me up inside and I just cannot bear it any more.

Are you prepared for this? Get ready if not. Because here it comes...

I have boxed chocolate brownie mix (catering size!) in my kitchen cupboards.

You look shocked.

I'm not lying.

I got it at Costco.

It's by Ghirardelli, it's Triple Chocolate Flavour and it makes amazing brownies. I forget now where I read about it online, but basically there are Americans out there (many, many Americans) who think that it makes better brownies than a from-scratch, home made recipe would.

Do I think so too? Well, we'll get to that. Right now I need to know that we're still OK. I shouldn't have kept it from you, I know. I just... I need to know that in time you can learn to forgive me. Do you think you can?

I hope so. I feel like the very foundations of my blog are in tatters...

In fairness, I don't think it's better than homemade brownies. I've posted a couple of my favourite brownie recipes on here in the past, and I stand by them. Especially those Chocolate-Ginger Brownies. They were truly memorable.

But I do actually think they're good, these box brownies. Though I cannot put my finger on why. Is it the excitement of using a box mix when everyone knows I'm against them? I'm like those Anti-Fur Activist Types who still wear leather. (And yes, I know it isn't the same thing...)

I like the sweetness. And the fudgy texture - which you can actually see from the photo is particularly inviting.

And let's face it: since these brownies were made with the sole intention of turning them into lamingtons, surely it was OK to use a mix? Well, that's the angle I'm going for...

And what of these lamingtons? How were they? Well, they were fabulous. Moist, fudge-like brownie and crisp chocolate and coconut coating (I opted not to use a ganache for these lamingtons, mainly out of laziness, but it is true that I like the snap you get from a pure chocolate dipped lam) - why wouldn't they be?

If I made them again - and you never know, since these (thanks to Ghirardelli) were a very low-effort undertaking - I think it would be fun to use a white chocolate for the exterior. Make the brownie centre more of a shock.

Though, in retrospect, I think we've had rather enough shocks for today. Don't you?

Chocolate Fudge Brownie Lamingtons

You will need:

1 package of Ghirardelli brownie mix

400g chocolate of your choice
200g dessicated coconut

Make the brownies following the instructions on the box. (I feel sick inside writing those words.)
Cut the cooled brownies into cubes ready for lamingtoning.
Melt the chocolate; put the dessicated coconut into a shallow dish for easy dipping and rolling.
Dip and roll.
Allow the brownie lamingtons to dry and set on greaseproof paper.
Don't tell anyone you used mix. It's not worth it. You could always make these instead. If you feel that strongly about it.

Re-Invent the Lamington Yourself!

Re-Inventing the Lamington 2012 Day One: White Chocolate Toffee Popcorn Lamingtons

2012-01-17T09:06:00.006Z

Pandas (especially those made of plastic, and in miniature) love popcorn. Fact.

(In which Mr. P makes crap up about the diet of pandas.)

I am not a panda, obviously. (Well, I hope that's obvious. Do pandas wear Ray-Bans?) But I do love toffee popcorn, the type that comes in foil bags. I don't really eat it very often, because, well, frankly, with all the cake that I find myself in possession of most of the time, buying sweet things to eat seems a little stupid. But I love it nonetheless and often gaze longingly at it in the snack aisle of my local Co-Op, wishing I could spare the calories and that everything wasn't so over-priced.

I indulged recently at my friend Al's while watching 'The Killing', and could barely concentrate on what Sarah Lundt was doing, so much was I enjoying those buttery morsels. I know that to some this is disgusting - Mr. Other P really hates sweet popcorn - but I care not. Good TV and a bag of Butterkist = ace. Even if it means you lose the plot line a little. I am happy to report, though, that the sacrifice was worth it. I had my own little 'Eureka!' moment right there in crime ridden Denmark: I was going to make a Toffee Popcorn Lamington.

Ostensibly for the pandas, but also for me. Let's be honest.

You know, I can't believe that I didn't think to do this for Re-Inventing the Lamington 2010 or 2011. These lams are amazing! Sweet white chocolate ganache, soft, vanilla scented sponge cake and a buttery, crunchy toffee popcorn coating. They are to be remade. And soon! Though perhaps in a layer cake incarnation, because as some of you are hopefully discovering right now with your entries for Re-Inventing the Lamington 2012, lamington making can be a true labour of love.

Incidentally, if I'm not doing enough to glamorise popcorn, and you also think it's more for the bin and less for the mouth, check this out. Admittedly, not the toffee variety, but still... Maybe if I limit myself to a dollar a day popcorn and cranberry juice diet, I'll become a rich, famous pop icon? You never know...

White Chocolate Toffee Popcorn Lamingtons

You will need:

175g plain flour
175g soft butter
175g caster sugar
3 eggs
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp vanilla extract
3 tbsp milk

400g white chocolate
200g crème fraïche (or sour cream) at room temperature

200g bag toffee popcorn, crushed

First, make the butter cake. Grease and line a 20cm square cake tin, and pre-heat the oven to 180°C.
In a large bowl, using an electric mixer, beat the flour, sugar, butter, eggs, milk, baking powder and vanilla together until you have a smooth batter. Scrape this into the prepared cake tin and bake for 25 minutes or until the cake tests done. That means that when you stick a cocktail stick (or a piece of spaghetti!) into the centre of the cake, it will come out clean, without any uncooked batter clinging to it.
Cool the cake in the tin on a wire rack, and when completely cold, turn out and slice into 16 squares.
Make the ganache: Melt the chocolate, cool slightly and mix together with the crème fraïche until you have a smooth icing. I always use crème fraïche for ganache now by the way; you can use it instantly, unlike double cream-based ganache which takes thirty seven years to cool and thicken.
Make the lamingtons: working quickly, dip the cake cubes into the ganache coating evenly. Immediately roll them in the crushed popcorn pieces and set on a sheet of greaseproof paper to dry.

Re-Invent the Lamington Yourself!

Re-Inventing the Lamington 2012

2012-01-09T13:19:00.006Z

The very first lamingtons I ever re-invented. Good times!

Well, I give you what you want, readers. Or so I like to think. Thanks to input (pressure?) from the Delicious Delicious Delicious Facebook Page (which is a great way to follow the blog by the way, if you use Facebook. Or indeed to get in touch with me - hit 'like' and join the fun!), I am once again going to Re-Invent the Lamington. Will it be the last time? Who knows.

I am nervous and anxious about whether or not I can do it to be honest. Both in 2010 and 2011 I felt like I had more fails than passes when it came to the crunch. Not so much in terms of flavour - let me just tell you right now, homemade cake and chocolatey coconut goodness can NEVER taste bad - but more in terms of beauty. I am not a shallow man, really I'm not. But I do want the desserts I post here to look the best they possibly can. South Wales in January is not the most ideal place to be shooting photos when you rely solely on natural light, as I do. But whatever; I am up for the challenge, so come along for the ride!

Now. Qu'est-ce que c'est un lamington? I feel like I spend my life explaining this one. Lamingtons are cakes that are popular in Australia. Traditionally, they are cube shaped sponge cakes coated with chocolate icing and coconut. However, I was unimpressed with them when I visited Australia in 2009, and made it my mission to Re-Invent them in 2010, in the process offending several Australians, who are very proud of their nations confections.

I say upfront that I am not here to step on Australia's toes. I am only doing this for fun! 10 days (the run up to Australia Day!), 10 lamington recipes. Are you with me?

As ever, I am opening up the fun to the whole wide world. Why not bake along and Re-Invent the Lamington yourself? In 2011 and 2012 we had a ton of great entries and I even got to speak about them on radio for ABC Canberra. I really hope you get inspired and join in this year as well.

There will be a prize! Want to know what it is? OK then! A copy of The Boy Who Bakes.

For those that don't know, this is the baking book written by the winner of BBC2's Great British Bake Off 2010, Edd Kimber, and let me tell you, it is fabulous. I've been following Edd's blog for years now, and am so pleased to see he has a book out at last. I rooted for him all the way through the show, knowing full well he would win it, and the book is full of all the great recipes you'd expect from him (except no lamingtons). It is the perfect prize: lamingtons are Aussie, but I'm British, and this book is by the guy who put British baking back in style.

Want to win it? Well, then, you'll need to enter!

The rules:

First come up with a unique lamington recipe. Go wild. I will.
Make and photograph your lamington, and post it on your blog, along with the recipe. If you don't have a blog, you can still enter. Just email me photos of the lamington with your recipe, and I'll post it on Delicious Delicious Delicious, as part of the lamington round-up for 2012.
Make sure to mention in your blog post that you're entering the lamingtons as part of Re-Inventing the Lamington 2012, and be sure to email me at the address above with a link to your post. Or leave a comment with a link to it, either way is fine.
Deadline is 31 January 2012.
Multiple entries are permitted. In fact, they are encouraged; everybody likes a lamington!

My Re-Inventions will be posted daily, starting 17 January, and finishing on Australia Day. Make sure you follow along!

Spiced Honey Gingerbread

2012-01-04T02:16:00.001Z

'You're what the French call 'pain d'épices'...'

Well, that is officially it for 2011 people. We're all older, have more grey hair and have wasted another year of our lives. But there is great joy to be shared: we have in our hands another new year, and with it high hopes and dreams of a better life. Make them come true! We only live once.

I actually had a fantastic 2011 by the way, so please do not be misled. My bitter tone is entirely for effect.

I trust everybody had a wonderful holiday season. I was working for most of it ('My Carmex Nightmare'), but did squeeze in all the right celebrations. I missed out on seeing my brother and his family though, so am going to have to schedule another feast at some point soon.

Today's recipe is actually one that I made to give as gifts in mid-December. Yes, I have become one of those awful, 'Here's something I made for you' type of gift givers; it must be my age. But actually, this gingerbread is truly fabulous, and even though I never got chance to post the recipe in time for you to follow suit and give loaves of it to friends and family, I am taking inspiration from one of my Christmas presents (a copy of One Day by David Nicholls) and telling myself that it is never too late. Some things are worth waiting for. So you get it now.

Now. I didn't actually like the book all that much. It was an easy read, but quite flawed. I got bored of all the extended internal monologue and lack of action: is there anything worse than people who spend their lives wanting something but but being too scared to do it? Also, the characters' attitudes towards love, sex and relationships irked me. Let's just say you can tell it was written by a man. The male, Dexter, is attractive, popular and sleeps around; the female, Emma, is a good girl. She waits for him, puts herself second. All rather tired if you ask me.

Plus it doesn't seem well researched. Littered with annoying anachronisms. Or maybe I just love the Eighties too much?

Nonetheless, coming back to the point, this honey gingerbread is wonderful. It would be worth waiting twenty annoyingly long years for, even if they were twenty years filled with awkward exchanges and difficult conversations. Fortunately though, you don' have to wait that long. The recipe is right here.

You can't go on honeymoon without buying honey, can you? Well, no. You can't.

Spiced Honey Gingerbread

You will need:

150g butter
125g demerera sugar (that's turbinado for those in US)
200g honey (I used pine honey, from California)
200g treacle (or molasses, or just another 200g honey)
1 tbsp ground ginger
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground all spice
1/2 tsp ground cloves
2 eggs
250ml milk
300g flour
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda

Pre-heat the oven to 170°C and have ready either 6 small foil loaf tins, each about 350ml capacity, or a deep-sided 20cm square cake tin, which should be greased. Don't worry about greasing the foil loaf tins.
In a large pan, and over a medium heat, melt the butter, sugar, treacle, honey and spices. Stir well.
Add the milk and eggs, and mix together thoroughly. Then add the flour and bicarb, whisking well to avoid lumps in the batter.
Pour into the prepared tins and bake. The small loaves take 22 minutes, the large cake will take around 45-50. Cool completely in the tin.

Lemon and Poppy Seed Cake

2011-12-16T13:25:00.000Z

If only I still had some of this cake left...

Despair is subjective. What proves devastating to one person might not even register on the sadness scale of another.

I know this having recently had a long conversation about the film 'The Pianist' with some friends, in which none of us could agree on the most awful scene. I'm not going to talk about that in depth here, because I feel that connecting a movie about the holocaust with lemon-poppy seed cake would be in rather poor taste (and you might all disagree with what I think is the saddest scene, which would probably make me feel argumentative and as though you didn't respect my right to an opinion or ability to have one). So instead, I'm going to relate it to the film 'Pretty Woman', starring Julia Roberts and Richard Gere, which the more eagle-eyed and elephant-memoried of you will know is my favourite film.

(Is prostitution more palatable than WW2? Well, there's only one way to find out... We're on shaky ground today, friends.)

Back to the subjectivity of despair. On the whole, 'PW' is quite a happy film. You might even call it a rom-com, if you were a film critic in 1992. But it is not without its upsetting moments. Some of them are skirted over, quick as a flash (the death of 'Skinny Marie' for instance, is awarded little time - 'She was a flake, she was a crack-head. Dominic was trying to straighten her out for months.), and some of them linger.

I have a good friend who practically sobs out loud every time Edward and Vivian have big fight at the end and he tells her he has never treated her like a prostitute. ('You just did.')

I personally don't care about that scene though. For by that point my heart has already been broken; it breaks when, at the polo match, Edward, spurred on by jealousy at seeing Vivian (in that gorgeous sundress and hat) laughing and smiling with David Morse, tells Stuckey that she is in fact a prostitute he met on Hollywood Boulevard.

It is at this point that, each time I watch the scene, I break down and my faith in the power of love and its ability to conquer all shatters.

Why do it, Edward? WHY? You already know you love her.

Readers: this is the power of jealousy. The root of all despair! Honestly, Pretty Woman is like a modern day 'Othello'. (But don't tell my secondary school English teacher I said so!)

This does connect to cake. Promise. You want to know how?

Flour. Specifically cake flour. It's only available in the States, and let me tell you, is something that I feel very jealous of indeed. I have a whole book of recipes telling me to use only it, and that unbleached flour (read 'the only flour available in the EU) will not give anything like the same results. Yep: I have my own green eyed monster and he lives in the pantry on the flour shelf. He's caused me some major despair in my time, let me tell you.

I remember at the time thinking that the yellow on white in this photo was beautiful.
Now, I just think 'What the hell did you take that for?'

I did, when in the US on honeymoon, pick up a box of cake flour, and have noticed a difference in the texture of my cakes. (I didn't make it to Hollywood Boulevard, mind you, but I did get my picture taken outside the Reg. Bev. Wil.) But since you, my wonderful UK readers, cannot get hold of the stuff, I have taken it upon myself to adapt the first recipe I made with the cake flour I brought back, to use the plain flour you can get at the supermarket.

Say 'thank you'.

I didn't do a side by side comparison of this cake and the original recipe from 'Rose's Heavenly Cakes'but from memory, the result is almost the same. It's moist and lusciously lemon flavoured, given its soaking with a sharp-tasting lemon syrup after baking; it has a soft, tender crumb, thanks to the cornflour I used to replace some of the plain; it is jam-packed full of poppy seeds which add great interest to each bite.

I love this cake stand!

I do admit that the cake is a little darker than the cake flour version, but plain flour has higher protein content, which explains that right away. There's also the fact that I had to answer the phone and missed the alarm telling me to take the cake out of the oven, which negated my using yogurt instead of sour cream to attempt to further lower the protein levels. But still: a perfect cake nonetheless.

According to those who know about such things, new season lemons are now in the shops. So this is actually a great example of seasonal eating. And a slice makes perfect accompaniment to any film you end up watching while sofa bound. You know which one I'd suggest.

And no. Not 'The Pianist'.

Lemon and Poppy Seed Cake

You will need:

3 eggs
200g natural yogurt
2 tsp vanilla extract
200g plain flour
50g cornflour
250g caster sugar
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
a pinch of salt
finely grated zest of a lemon
50g poppy seeds
200g unsalted butter, at room temperature

100g caster sugar
juice of one lemon

Pre-heat the oven to 180 degrees Centrigrade. In a large bowl, mix the flour, corn flour, 250g caster sugar, leavenings, salt, lemon zest and poppy seeds together using a wire whisk. Or you could use a stand mixer.
In a separate bowl, mix together the eggs, all but 3 tbsp of the yogurt, and vanilla together. You just need to break up the yolks, so it should only take about 20 seconds with a fork to do this.
Add the remaining yogurt and the butter to the dry ingredients and mix together using an electric beater or stand mixer until everything is moistened. Scrape the sides of the bowl and then beat on high speed for about a minute.
Add the wet ingredients in two parts, beating on medium for 30 seconds after each addition.
Pour the mixture into a well greased 10-cup (2.5 litre) capacity bundt tin and bake for about 40 minutes, until golden brown.
While the cake is baking, heat the sugar and lemon juice together to make a syrup. Do not let it boil!
When the cake comes out of the oven, immediately make holes all over the top (which will later become the bottom) with a skewer or cocktail stick, and brush over half of the syrup. Cool in the tin for 10 minutes on a wire rack.
Invert the cake onto a serving plate and brush the rest of the syrup on to the top while still warm. For best flavour, make the cake a day ahead, and serve sprinkled with icing sugar in generous slices.

Honey-Cinnamon Peanut Butter

2011-12-06T10:12:00.000Z

My condiment addiction.

I feel as though I live my life trying to catch up with myself. I spend my time away at work making lists of urgent things that I'll need to do when I get home and then never have the time to do them. It is a race to get everything done on the last of my days off.

I am never up to date with the laundry. This makes me feel especially inadequate because I am the son of a woman who always has an empty wash basket and freshly ironed clothes. Even raising three children never stopped her from getting it all done on time. How ashamed she must be.

I can't even watch television programmes on time. Thank God for that ugly digital box thing that sits under the TV set and means that I can watch 'The Killing' after everybody else has already seen it. You know, when it was actually broadcast. (We don't get BBC4 at 33, 000ft, and even if we did I can't imagine the passengers would be too impressed if I sat down to watch Sarah Lund get thrown off of another case. I feel for her. I really do. Though quite frankly, I feel for myself too.)

I'm playing catch up with the blog today as well. In two ways! We're making peanut butter - people have been doing that for years, I'm hardly being original - and also, posting this recipe and video was number one on my list of things to do this week. I can tick that off now. Or would if I could find my Sharpie. It's a start at least.

I know making peanut butter seems crazy when you can buy it in the shops. But you can't buy Cinnamon-Honey Peanut Butter (at least, not in Cardiff...), and I had to use my Allure 3-in-1 Hand Blender. Do me a favour and try this out. But get help shelling the nuts. Hell. On. Earth.

Cinnamon-Honey Peanut Butter

You will need:

325g roasted peanuts
2 tbsp oil
1 tsp salt
honey
cinnamon

Basically, chuck the lot in the processor and set it to work. For more detail, watch the video!

Snow Queen

2011-11-24T17:58:00.001Z

If I told you this was taken at night with the kitchen light on,
you'd be able to believe me, wouldn't you? This is white as snow, honestly.

I have to be quick. I have so much to do. But I wanted to share video number 3 for the Russell Hobbs Allure Challenge. Yes, that is Mr. Other P shirking around in the background of the video. He's never far away when there's a cocktail being blended.

One confession I have is that I stole this recipe - shamefully and shamelessly - from my favourite local cocktail place years ago. They don't do it anymore, you can only get something called a Coconut Daiquiri (which is not the same thing). So it turns out my theft was both timely and fortunate. Lovely.

If you hate coconut, then this is not for you. But for the rest of us, this is officially the best cocktail out there.

I'm pretty much fighting a losing battle in this competition. But I hope you're enjoying the videos, since all this really is is a bit of fun!

I have some non-competition posts coming up too shortly, so stay with...

Snow Queen

You will need:

1 measure Malibu
1 measure vanilla vodka (I use Absolut)
1 measure sugar syrup
2 measures coconut cream
good squeeze of lime juice
ice to taste

This is one step deliciousness. Just chuck it all in a blender and whizz. Amazing stuff.

Banana, Sour Cream and Golden Syrup Cheesecakes

2011-11-17T07:52:00.001Z

Plastic pandas in their natural habitat - the banana cheesecake. Honestly: who needs David Attenborough?

My second video for the Russell Hobs Allure Challenge is now online. You can watch (and 'like'!) it here. If watching me make little Banana, Sour Cream and Golden Syrup Cheesecakes is your thing, that is. It's amazing what you can watch on the Internet these days.

And by the way, that's my favourite T-shirt (I identify heavily with Linus, though am perhaps more of a Charlie Brown, truth be told.). Please appreciate.

OK, enough self promo. Time to apologise to Paris. I have been overly harsh in previous posts and feel I should make amends. It's going to be difficult: there's no 12 Step Programme for this. It's just that as I write from my hotel room here and I remember the lovely day I spent walking around the 15th yesterday, all I can think of is how bad I feel about my previous slatings.

Walking down Avenue de Souffren in the late afternoon sun (freezing though it was!), it struck me how beautiful this city is. I know that area is not exactly a tourist hot spot, being as it is so close to the various ministries and administrative buildings, but I don't care. It was beautiful. The old buildings, fading sun and falling leaves were, dare I say it, semi-romantic. If only Mr. Other P were with me. We could have shared a vin chaud.

I even had a little day dream about living here for a while, but a glance into the estate agency's window brought me straight back down to Earth with a crash, bang and wallop. (As did grazing my hand on a rusty rail while brushing against it: do I now need a Tetanus? Oh God. The worry...) You would not believe how expensive flats are in Paris. I'll make do with Cardiff for the time being.

I'm going to rush round the market later and buy some goodies to take home. This new found liking for things French will mean that my inner Julia Child needs to be sated, even if it's only with quince jelly and unusually flavoured tisanes.

To the task in hand: cheesecakes. I'll be honest. These were VERY delicious. Definitely on my list of If-People-Reading-This-Have-Any-Sense-They-Will-Actually-Make-These dishes, though maybe not in pole position. That spot is still accorded to these. But whatever: here's how to cheesecake.

Banana, Sour Cream and Golden Syrup Cheesecakes

You will need:

5 hobnob biscuits (optional)
150g cream cheese
75g caster sugar
1 egg
squeeze of lemon juice
1 tsp vanilla
pinch salt
150g sour cream
1 banana
golden syrup to taste

Whisk together cream cheese and sugar until smooth (for about 2 minutes). I used the Russell Hobbs Allure Hand Mixer, and in all honestly, was really impressed. This thing has LOADS more power and is much sturdier than the old mixer I have in my cupboard.
Add the egg, lemon and salt, and beat again until just incorporated.
In a separate bowl, mash the banana, sour cream and vanilla together; add this to the other mixture and beat well.
Prepare the cheesecakes: put a hobnob (can be made without if you prefer a crustless cheesecake) into each of 5 little ramekins. Top with the mixture and bake in a bain marie at 180°C for 20-25 minutes.
Chill in the fridge and top with syrup before serving.

Crab Apple Jelly

2011-11-10T14:46:00.000Z

Hey everyone! Do you want to make crab apple jelly? Brilliant, me too. Let's get started.

You'll need a big bag of crab apples. Good luck with that; they are a bit of a pain to harvest. If you don't live near a tree, you can just use cooking apples from the greengrocer, but your jelly won't be the same beautiful claret-y pink colour. I know that sounds unfair, but it's best you're prepared for the shattering truth.

Wash your crabbies well. Outside is not as clean as we like to think.

I got my apples from my friend Rowanne's garden by the way. I've said I was going to make crab apple jelly with her under appreciated pommes for the past two years and this year I finally got around to it. Someone somewhere is applauding me, I just know it.

Chop the apples up roughly and put them in a large pan with a few cloves. Just barely cover them with water and turn on the heat.

Cook them gently until the fruit is pulpy. I warn you that this takes about 40 minutes. Having expected it to take 10, I was rather annoyed at this point. That's half an hour I'll never get back.

Now everything gets rather busy. You need to strain the pulpy fruit through a jelly bag for about 4 hours. Or through muslin. Or, if you're me, an old Ikea tea towel. Before using it, boil it in a pot of water for a minute or so. Cleanliness is next to Godliness, after all.

Look at the beautiful pink juice! Can you bear how pretty it is? (I can't.)

It all gets a bit exciting at this point, and I didn't have time to take pictures. But basically, you need to sterilise some jars. I used regular old jam ones, and did it the simple way: washed them in hot, soapy water, rinsed them and dried them off in a low oven.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, measure the juice you collected. For every 600ml, weigh out 450g granulated sugar. Heat the juice in a large pan, and when it boils, add the sugar, stirring until it dissolves. Then boil rapidly for about 8 minutes without stirring, until setting point is reached.

I hear you thinking, 'Wha..?'. Don't worry. This is easy. Pop a saucer in the fridge to chill before you begin, and when the 8 minutes are up, drip a little jelly onto it. If it gels (and it surely will, because crab apples are Pectin Kings. If the fruit garden had a fitness scene, the crap apples would be the guys working out on Muscle Beach), you've reached the setting point. Pour the hot jelly into a jug, then into your waiting (still warm) jars. Seal immediately with clean lids, which you can sterilise by boiling in water for 10 minutes.

Serve with cheese or roast meats.

That was free deliciousness I just showed you how to make there. Hope you liked it.

Chocolate Marshmallow Pots

2011-11-06T14:50:00.001Z

Until you have eaten one of my chocolate pots with a hot pink melamine
teaspoon, you cannot have truly known happiness.

And that's just a fact, friends.

I have some exciting news. I have been asked, by the good people at Russell Hobbs, to road test some of their Allure appliance range. I'm taking part in their cookery challenge, and submitting four (count them!) videos and recipes. My first video, for these luscious Chocolate Marshmallow Pots, is available to view here. Please do NOT mention how awful I look, and how messy my kitchen is. I am no professional TV chef!

Please DO 'like' or tweet about how much you like my video, using the link provided. There'll be another each week for the next four weeks, and I'll be counting on all of you lovely lot to make sure that I get at least two 'likes'. I don't mind losing though. Having you all come back here regularly makes me the happiest loser in town!

Now: the recipe theme for this first challenge was Bonfire Night. I'm not really a fire and smoke kind of a guy to be honest. I mean, I love a sparkler under the right circumstances, but only if there's a bucket of water nearby for me to drop them into afterwards. I remember those terrifying firework safety campaign videos. I was an Eighties child after all.

Chocolate pots don't scream 'Guy Faulkes'. But give a moment to explain myself. I got the idea from the hot chocolate and marshmallows that saved me from icing over at the firework display we went to four years ago in Cardiff. We were 'on time' for the 7pm start. A mistake, friends. The organisers hadn't even lit the fire yet. We had to wait until 9pm in the cold, dark fog. I wanted to die I was so cold, and had it not been for Francesco and his kind purchase of marshmallow topped cocoas, I probably would have. It is now my November beverage essential, and thus the inspiration for my recipe. (Though only the video has the full, marshmallowed and sparklered version - I forgot to take photos of those.)

(Which also should have been for a condiment or dip, but hey: I'm a rule breaker!)

My Lady Grey tea packaging reminds me on a daily basis that Noel Coward once said it would be awful to live in a country where people didn't drink tea. Noel - you're a man after my own. But really, it would be even worse to live in a country without HC and M. Especially on Bonfire Night.

These are so easy to make. Watch.

Hot Chocolate and Marshmallow Pots

You will need:

175g plain chocolate
250ml single cream
1 egg
marshmallows

Heat the cream until it is about to boil (but don't let it!).
In a chopper or food processor (I used the Allure Mini Ball Chopper , process the chocolate until finely chopped. Pour the hot cream over the chocolate and leave for a minute to melt.
Process the mixture for a few seconds.
Crack the egg into the mixture and process for thirty seconds.
Pour into small pots or jars, and chill until set. Garnish with marshmallows, though this is optional. Pink melamine spoons are not.

Frangelico-Infused Genoise Cake

2011-10-19T13:12:00.001+01:00

Bundt cake! For 'I Like Big Bundts 3', why ever else?

We all make mistakes sometimes. (Don't worry, I'm not talking about getting married.)

Once, I dusted and polished the entire upstairs of my house with a can of Raid ant poison, thinking it was Mr. Sheen. I consider it a miracle that we didn't die and have actually only recently (as in within the last 6 months) stopped worrying about possible health problems we could end up facing.

I also once accidentally tipped a waiter in Chambéry around €20 for bringing us the hugely difficult to remember order of a citron pressé and coffee (which came to about €6). I am actually appalled that he didn't give me the money back to be honest, but hey: you'll never be able to call me a bad tipper

The mistake I made today was dancing for too long in the kitchen when the good light (for taking photos) was available. I'm sorry readers, I just couldn't help it. I'm powerless to resist the charms of a well timed pop song on the radio. This could all lead to a new career change though: I reckon I could be one of Britney's dancers. I've been told I am all shoulder (in terms of style), so would fit right in to her video anyway. Look. Specifically at 2:03. I could do that. And make genoise cake at the same time.

I just wouldn't be able to photograph it in decent light...

I know that, really, a plain cake like this should have some sort of garnish. But it's for a dinner party and is going to go with some Frangelico whipped cream and raspberries. I'm so not mucksying up my beautiful cake stand with that lot just to get a photo of it now. They're more of an 'on the side when you actually eat it' type thing. The obvious choice - that's flowers from the garden to those who don't know - is not an option in freezing Cardiff today, so, searching around for something else to brighten up my pages with, I decided to snap a quick portrait of my Doraemon hand wash dispenser. Enjoy.

Lovely.

Oh, and thanks for all your lovely comments and well wishes. I feel very happy indeed. Maybe I'll post a few more photos of the day when I get a chance. And the cake!

Frangelico-Infused Genoise Cake
adapted from Rose's Heavenly Cakes

You will need:

50g clarified butter

1 tsp vanilla extract

5 large eggs

125g caster sugar

66g plain flour (cake flour, should such be available)

60g grams cornflour

For the syrup:

65g sugar
160ml water
45ml (3 tbsp) Frangelico, or liqueur of your choice (please not Jägermeister)

This recipe is for a regular 10-cup bundt tin, such as those made by Nordic Ware. Please grease the hell out of it before proceeding. If you can get hold of baking spray oil, then please do. Heat the oven to 180°C.
Follow the method given in this post to make the genoise batter. Bake for around 25 minutes, and immediately unmould the cake onto a wire cooling rack and allow to cool completely.
Meanwhile, make the syrup: heat the sugar and water in the microwave until dissolved; add the liqueur when cool.
Brushing the cake with the syrup (and all of it) is essential. It will take a few minutes, but make sure to apply all of the syrup. Set the cake aside for at least 12 hours, ideally more, to allow the syrup to distribute and flavour the sponge.
Serve with cream and berries.

2011-10-10T13:08:00.004+01:00

You might well all be thinking, 'Where the hell has Mr. P gone?' (If indeed there are any of you left. I haven't updated for so long that I'd be surprised if anyone ever came around here anymore...)

I have been taking it easy after a busy few months. I didn't mention it before, but one of the reasons that my posting has become so infrequent is that I have been so pre-occupied with other projects and just haven't had the time to maintain my blog as well do everything else.

I say 'other projects'; I think it is pretty obvious from the above photograph that I am talking about getting married. I think it's a rather good reason for letting one's writing schedule slip a little though, don't you?

Normal service will resume. It might just take me a while to get into it.

Photograph courtesy of Dave Fletcher Photography.

Gujarati Dry Mungbean Curry

2011-09-06T13:05:00.000+01:00

You know, anyone who bakes a lot (guilty!) is likely to have a shelf (or several shelves) cluttered with 'essentials' that they didn't really need at all. I notice this everywhere. More so than with enthusiasts of other types of cooking, bakers in particular hoard flours, spices, extracts and chocolates as if they were gold ingots. They spend huge sums on ridiculous items (jasmine extract anybody?), convincing themselves that said product will change their lives and make them better at their chosen hobby.

They are delusional. The only people worse than them are the cake decorators. My God: they could fill entire rooms with all manner of strange shaped, food safe plastic made apparatus. And for what? Sugar flowers that nobody eats.

(In fairness, I have used the jasmine extract three or four times.)

One of the 'essentials' I bought a while ago - a super-sized bag of ground cinnamon from my local Indian grocer - has, though, made the leap from baking shelf to my actual food cupboard. By that, I mean the one above my work space, next to the mugs and glasses. We're talking the prime real estate location of my kitchen, the Zone 1 of Number Eighty-Seven. And it's not because I like to make cinnamon toast. Although that's actually a blast from the past that needs revisiting at my earliest convenience (not going to happen for a while though - finding myself in a hotel room with neither grill nor cinnamon, I'm filing that thought under 'next time').

No, it's because of my lentil addiction, which I touched on briefly in my previous post. I just can't get enough of those damned dals! Or daals. I am never sure how to spell that one.

Have you ever tried cinnamon with lentils? The combination is going to drive you crazy. I'm not going to take any credit for it, mind you. I got this recipe from Ko Rasoi, so it's Sanjana we'll be giving thanks to. As I said last time, I cook from her blog all the time (at the moment, weekly). and this curry is my favourite so far. I just can't get over the ease with which it all comes together (Sanjana posted this during her finals, which tells you everything you need to know), and how exotic and adventurous I feel cooking with curry leaves.

There is also the excitment of the mustard seeds popping. Special attention must be drawn to that.

I am not going to give the recipe here. You can go to Sanjana's blog to get it, and others. I will, though, tell you a few things about me and this curry.

It has twice been voted 'the best thing on the table' when made as part of a selection of curries for friends I had round.
I never add the asafoetida, but only because I haven't ever bought any.
I like to keep a little back when I make it to eat the following day for lunch, in wraps from my local Middle Eastern shop, with corriander and yoghurt. It's probably an inauthentic way to eat, but it's delicious.
It saves me from eating badly when the bank balance is too frightening to look at. You shouldn't be paying more than a pound or so for a big bag of mung beans. This means you can have the expensive shoes (I recently had the expensive shoes) and dinner as well. How perfect can life be?

Go. Make. Eat.

Sindhi Style Chickpea Curry

2011-08-17T19:44:00.000+01:00

I have just returned from a weekend of what can only be described as 'bareback' camping, in a friend's valley. (Yeah, my friend has a valley. What of it?) There are no facilities in the valley. It was an interesting (and sobering) experience, and I learned several things about life, myself and what we shall call 'the human spirit'.

Firstly, running water and modern sewerage systems are a blessing. I give thanks for all of us here and now. Washing up in cold stream water in the rain is a chore that would cause most people to contemplate suicide seriously (which is why I am particularly thankful to Rish - Mr. R - for doing most of it), and when the lavatory is a shovel and a quiet spot in the woods near the slate quarry, well, let's just say that I was quite happy to get home a few days ago.

Secondly, positivity and happiness can be achieved by looking for the good points in the numerous evils which we face daily. In the context of bareback camping, this means giving thanks for the acrid, woody and black smoke emitted from the enormous campfires (Mr. Other P and Julia are a little over-zealous where log and flames are concerned) in front of your tent. Yes, it gives you red eyes and makes everything smell horrendous, but it does keep away the dreaded mosquitoes. Vile little bastards, I wish death upon thee.

I also learned that Coca Cola cleans grease and filth off of extremely dirty frying pans simply by being heated inside them. People of the world: stop putting this stuff into your bodies. I mean it!

It's not my first time in the valley, and it definitely will not be the last, but we certainly had less than ideal weather conditions this weekend and I can safely say that I am more 'The Call of the Mild' than full-blooded outdoor enthusiast. Still, we are all of us Campers Who Cope and I loved it. So thanks guys for a great time, if you're reading.

(You better had be.)

Now: back to the matter in hand - my curry. I made this a while ago, and wasn't going to post it, since it doesn't contain any sugar and I know what my readers want. But it was so good that I ended up taking this picture of the leftovers and filing it away for when I had time to write about it.

I make a lot of Indian food (and yes, I am perfectly aware that Sindh is a province of Pakistan, but the recipe is from 50 Great Curries of India, so leave me alone), and love curried lentils and pulses. A good dal is one of the most amazing things to eat in the whole wide world, and the fact that they cost next to nothing to make is all the more reason for gleeful indulgence and hysteria.

This chickpea curry is savoury and well-spiced, and was just delicious with some brown basmati rice. I have adapted it slightly here, purely because my spice cupboard doesn't run to amchoor (dried mango powder). I wouldn't normally dare make a change to a cuisine I don't fully understand but I have been spurred on by a recent run of successes.

Usually, I follow the lead of my beloved Sanjana. I have cooked my way through a good five or so of her recipes and never had any problems. If you fancy trying some Indian dishes in your own kitchen, you'd do far worse than start off with something from Ko Rasoi.

But recently, I realised (while, unable to sleep, I was flipping though Camellia Panjabi's book) that I'd never made a curry (or anything at all for that matter) with real, proper chickpeas, the kind that come dried, in a packet, and need soaking, instead of ready-to-go canned ones.

Well, readers, until several years ago when I first went to the valley, I'd never had a bath in river water either, but the fact is that there is a first time for everything, and this was it for me and dried chickpeas. The fact that as curries go this one could scarcely be easier leads me to suggest you make it your first time too. And if you manage that successfully, well, who knows? You might even be ready for bareback camping.

Sindhi Style Chickpea Curry

You will need:

250g dried chickpeas
3 large onions
a thumb sized knob of fresh ginger
4 cloves garlic
400g tin chopped tomatoes
2 black cardamoms
8 cloves
2 bay leaves
15 peppercorns
1 tsp cumin seeds
4 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tsp turmeric powder
1 tsp garam masala
1 tsp ground coriander
salt and pepper

Soak the chickpeas overnight in cold water.
Chop two of the onions roughly, and the third very finely with the garlic and ginger.
Put the soaked and drained chickpeas into a cooking pot with half of the roughly chopped onion, the black cardamom, the cloves, bay leaves, peppercorns, cumin seeds and a teaspoon of sea salt. Cover with cold water and bring to the boil, before simmering the mixture for 50 minutes or so, until the chickpeas are softened. Drain, reserving the liquid (you can through away the spices now).
In another pot, heat the oil and sauté the remaining chopped onions slowly for about 20 minutes or until browned. Add the finely chopped onion, garlic and ginger, then cook for another 10 minutes.
Now add the turmeric, garam masala and coriander, stir for a minute or so, and then add the tomatoes and chickpeas. Add as much of the reserved cooking liquid as you like to make a gravy (it can be thick or thin, whichever you prefer), and cook for a few minutes until everything is warmed through. Season well.

Coconut and Mango Macarons

2011-08-03T13:04:00.000+01:00

The top left mac has cellulite, but if you don't tell him, I won't either...

I know I'm not supposed to have favourites, but when it comes to macarons I do, and these are, definitively, them.

I feel this is OK because of all the people out there who whine that they don't like coconut. Someone has to, and that someone is me. You're all missing out!

I was in Taormina, Sicily, recently for a wedding (which was amazing - congrats again, Sam and Jen), and ate really well. The local cakes of choice are cassata (which is going to get made, so we won't be talking about it here), and canoli, which are little tubes of fried pastry, filled with creamy ricotta cheese and topped with candied orange peel and chopped pistachios. They are delicious, but presented a huge problem when competing for a place on Delicious Delicious Delicious: I have a 'Just Say No' policy when it comes to deep frying.

This is not because I am fat-phobic (as if - these macarons are filled with Swiss meringue buttercream!). It is because I never know what to do with all the oil afterwards. Wouldn't keeping it be gross?

I digress. I was at home for all of about five seconds after Sicily before I had to come back to work, so there just wasn't time to get a cassata made and photographed. Well, actually, that's not strictly true, but I would have had to leave the whole cassata in the fridge for Mr. Other P to eat while I was away working, and that seemed a little unfair to me. I mean, I love the man dearly, but a whole cassata? Hell no.

So I decided to craft a macaron recipe (we've not had macarons for a while, and too much of a good thing can be wonderful) that would take all of my favourite Sicilian flavours and combine them with a little Parisian chic to make a quick little petit four to wow and dazzle. I know that coconut and mango are neither of them Sicilian in any respect, but you're going to have to work with me here.

The thing about Taormina is that it's best by night. It's too hot to be in town during the day, which is why we spent almost all of our time on the beach. But in the evenings, when it's a bit cooler, the Corso Umberto and little streets that run off it are startlingly beautiful. Everywhere you go, the night air carries the sweet fragrance of jasmine and orange blossom, and flowers of all colours decorate the church steps and square; it is truly one of the most lovely places I've ever been.

Now. I went as far as buying the orange blossom extract. But when it actually came to making the macarons, I just wasn't feeling in the mood for it. My bottle of coconut extract was giving me the old puppy dog eyes, and when I found some mango buttercream in the freezer I knew I was good to go.

Yes, jasmine-scented macaron shells filled with orange blossom infused white chocolate ganache sound wonderful, but only a fool would make ganache when there's ready-to-go Swiss in the freezer. I am no fool. And I had less than 12 hours at home.

So Taormina will have it's time on these pages when I get round to that cassata. In the mean time, let me introduce you to my favourite macarons...

Coconut and Mango Macarons

You will need:

110g icing sugar
50g ground almonds
1 tsp coconut extract
2 egg whites (60g), aged for 24 hours (just leave them on the kitchen counter, uncovered)
40g caster sugar

Mango flavoured Swiss meringue buttercream - follow the recipe here, using mango purée instead of strawberry. You'll need about a quarter of the recipe; freeze the leftovers for up to 6 months.

Sift the 110g icing sugar into a large bowl, and mix in the almonds.
In another bowl, whisk the egg whites until frothy, then slowly whisk in the caster sugar until you have soft peaking meringue. Add the coconut extract and carry on whisking until stiff peaks form. If you want to add a colouring to your macarons, I recommend the gel type, and you should add it with the extract.
Add the almond and sugar mixture, and fold in. You are supposed to do this in exactly 50 strokes, and turn the bowl 45° after every tenth stroke. I don't think it's of paramount importance - you should just have a smooth mixture. Thick is good here. If you spend too long folding in, you'll get a too-thin batter and your macarons won't stay in pretty little rounds.
Put this mix into a piping bag with the end snipped off, and pipe circles about 2 inches in diameter, well spaced apart on a lined baking sheet. You should have between 28 and 30 blobs of mixture. Let's call it 29.
Let them sit for 30 minutes while you pre-heat the oven to 150°C.
Bake for 12 minutes on the bottom shelf. Cool completely on the sheet, and then remove using a pallet knife.
For the filling: use the Swiss meringue buttercream to sandwich the mac shells together. If you don't fancy all the work of a Swiss, you could use strawberry jam and sprinkle in a little dessicated coconut for extra texture. It would be delicious, and I'd be happy to taste them for you.

Orange-Glow Chiffon Cake

2011-07-07T12:12:00.002+01:00

I know it looks scrappy, but this is actually the best cake you'll ever taste.

You can see that I may have treated myself to a chiffon cake pan since I got one year closer to the big three zero a week or so ago. I even took a photograph of it, which has since been misplaced, but let's just say I ♥ my Wilton and every inch of its diameter.

Lovely.

Before we go any further with this chiffon appreciation, mind you, I just want to say something very serious and quite outside of my usual gently-negative, if-this-genoise-doesn't rise-then-I'm-going-to-blinking-well-kill-myself register.

I want to say how proud I am of my mother.

She is a woman who has worked incredibly hard every day of her life to make sure that we (my two siblings and I) have wanted for nothing. She has gone without to make sure that we get plenty; put everybody else before herself and carried on smiling. She is beautiful, selfless, open-hearted and caring.

Unsurprisingly, these sorts of attributes have allowed her to carve out a very successful career in the years since she returned to work after having had children. Without wanting to go into much detail (I'm scared of being sued!), her work situation got pretty shitty a few days ago. My mum is at the top, yet her first thoughts were of the people she manages. Her team, and their teams. People who depend on her, however indirectly.

Mum, I know you don't really read Delicious Delicious Delicious, and especially not right now, but I just want to say I love you. You are amazing, inspirational and can do anything. Now go get 'em.

And he's back...

So, this chiffon cake. It's pretty good. The neighbour's new housemate said it was so soft he wanted to use it as a pillow when we took some around to eat in their garden. (See, this is why I always tell people they should live in friendly old Cardiff. It's like an episode of 'Cheers', only there's no bar. And no Ted Danson.)

Getting the cake out of the tin is a little unnerving, mind. Rather like the first time you have a manicure and can't believe that you're actually paying someone to torture you in this way (Anyone else bleed? Thank you, 5th Avenue bitches!), it is an uphill struggle to cut the cake out of its aluminium casing without tears or a quickened heart rate.

In fact some of mine stayed in the tin. But with a texture and flavour such as this cake has (Hello there orange! Nice to see you again!), I don't really mind the less than perfect presentation. Besides, those pieces which stay behind are there for a reason: so you can eat them to make sure the cake is perfect. And it will be. This is another Rose Levy-B cake, after all.

I have waxed lyrical about chiffon cake enough on these pages, and I hate to repeat myself. But I will tell you one thing. The small cost of a Wilton tube pan is going to give you a lifetime of forties Hollywood glamour. Worth it. I say here's to Harry Baker!

Orange Glow Chiffon Cake

I watched Rose Levy Beranbaum make this cake in a video posted on Youtube. It seems silly to reprise the recipe here when you can see her do it herself. The video is here, and the recipe, here. Enjoy!