One of the only plus points of my recent toothache* has been the omnipresent taste of clove oil in my mouth. I won't bang on about My Toothache* as there's nothing duller than hearing someone else's hard luck story ( and, have you noticed, people take it as cue to tell you theirs - only you can guarantee that their story is far more dramatic , heroic amounts of pain withstood, fortitude and suffering, the likes of which Andy McNabb would have a hushed reverence for) . I find the taste of cloves just the right side of antiseptically spicy, both treaty and medicinal. And very seasonal. Most of my recent baking has been suffused with the good stuff,  cinnamon, cloves, ginger and brown sugars - spiced pumpkin cakes, carrot cakes, sticky toffee cakes, both for the shop and for private orders. I have a wedding order in a couple of weeks for a spiced pumpkin cupcake tower that I'm particularly looking forward to working on. The decoration is on an autumnal and ivy leaf theme which I think will work beautifully, all russets and greens and golds. I'm also working on a cupcake order for an 18th birthday, going with a vibe of elegant sparkle, and that feels sneakily festive too, silver sparkles and stars. I am such a sucker for the festive vibe, I've already got my seasonal candles on the go of an evening ( spiced apple, honey and chocolate, spiced pear, red apple wreath, silver fir) and tonight, some people are coming over for a meal and I'll be cracking out a mini Christmas dinner, roast parsnips, stuffing, sprouts and all ! Sticky toffee sundae for pudding. Having had a fairly heavy baking time of it particularly over the last week, its almost a novelty to be making something non cake related ( and easy to eat - me teeth, you know..).Still,spaghetti hoops on brown buttered toast with grated cheese takes some beating ( had for tea twice this week. Never knowingly restrained..) but beaten it was this week, by a 7 course meal at Ramsons Restaurant in Bury. I've long wanted to go, having read the reviews , and finally made it late last week. Carpaccio of brill, seared scallops, breast of woodpigeon, brown shrimp ravioli, roast loin of venison, cheeses, pannacotta with fragolina grapes and then marmalade sponge with drambuie custard. Each course matched to a particular wine. All very well executed, smartly served , with purees and dashes of sauces and oils ( pea, saffron, lemon, beetroot, liquorice, rowan and juniper) here and there as you might expect, but I dunno...something lacked a bit. It felt, perhaps rather than tasted, all a little bit uniform. The owner was keen to make his presence felt and seemed to make sure we knew how much he knew about his wines. His bon mots felt a little bit over polished., as if he was determined to make himself the very epicentre of Your Ramsons Experience.  I don't want to be churlish about a place that starting serving raw fish to Bury diners in 1985, and I won't groan that the scallops were served with a pea puree, because a classic is a classic ( spaghetti hoops and grated cheese) but I did find the atmosphere to be a little off. And try as I might, I just don't like wood pigeon. I want to, I think I should, but I don't. Same with duck and seabass. I'd love to love them, and airily order them..I've had them all done well, done badly but I just can't enjoy them. No-one knows what I suffer. Have I mentioned me teeth ?
* painful
*  very painful

buns, buttercream, business as usual

Halloween theme cupcakes, made earlier

Buried under buns and buttercream all day, then got the urge for another preserve-athon, so rattling through my cupboards for glass jars to pour the goods into (the chutney, not the cakes, obviously) . The house smells fuggily sweet and spicy and the windows have steamed up quite pleasingly. V busy day ( v busy week !,), my favourite apron still to mend (one of the cords ( straps ?) frayed off ( see how busy I must be ...) but good glass of red now and pancakes for tea , exhausted ...wouldn't have it any other way . Looking forward to half snooze-watching Downton Abbey, then electric blanket on ,drift off dreaming up ways to use some new gourmet extract oils I've invested in (note to self - internet shopping when sober would be cheaper) and wake up ready for a New Week Of It All. Hope you've had a good one.

this week, I have mostly been....

pepsi max rather than diet coke
coffee rather than tea in the morning
pizza rather than burger
cream rather than custard
toast rather than cereal
dark rather than milk chocolate
red rather than white wine
thai rather than chinese
carrot cake rather than lemon drizzle
butter rather than margarine
ribena rather than vimto
roast lamb rather than roast pork
never - liver, seabass, duck or Radio 1
always - parmesan, wotsits, chorizo, sushi, Radio 4
You ?

Edward Woodward, Kenwood(ward) and the best beloved Boxer.

Look, I don't want to bore on about this, but I've been having muffin dramas again. Its a slap of the face and a honk of the nose to me from muffins. I am actually starting to sneak up on the recipe now, trying to distract it before they realise I've gone and baked them. This time, the batch rose , tall and tender, but the tops were completely flat. Like spirit level flat. Ice skating rink flat. It was the lemon and poppy seed recipe again. And you know what I'm going to say - I did nothing different from last time. Weary sigh. Same spot in the oven and all that. Exasperated ( for these muffins only ever do this when they know they are bound for sale in the shop) I made a batch of berry muffins instead (with a little lemon zest* - blueberries, raspberries and blackcurrant, so jammily jewel like when they burst in the muffin, beautiful) and they came out Just As They Should. And very pleased with them I was too. I guess lemon muffins are tired of me taking them for granted. I never take them out or send them flowers, I turn the telly up when they're speaking to me.  They are putting their (flat) foot down. I'll make it up to them somehow. Right after I've finished my honeymoon with Berry Burst Muffin. And as if all this weren't pale shivery nightsweat high drama enough - fasten your seat belts - my best beloved balloon whisk from my best beloved Kenwood mixer has given up the ghost. As ends go, it was a good and noble death, in amongst a batch of chocolate meringue buttercream, working , like Boxer from Animal Farm, tirelessly to the end. One of the metal wires just pinged off ( suspect cahoots with lemon muffins). I've had this mixer for ever - it has Never Ever let me down. Its a Kenwood Chef, its older than I am, (they were manufactured between 1962 and 1976, fact fans) I've never had to replace a part or have it serviced, and its used , heavy duty, weekly. I love it. It has its quirks - it sounds like a whale with tummy ache when its doing its thing, and I have to hit the hinge button thing with a hammer to make the top bit ( I simply have no idea what this bit of the machine is called) swing up so I can attach the accessories. I don't think my baking life would be possible without this reliable, sturdy, no nonsense beast. So I've been looking on ebay for spare parts ( I have me eye on a meat grinder attachment also, I fancy a bit of a go at sausage making. Or to be able to mince pork fat for pates and such) and thankfully, there are some. I'm just not sure I'll be able to throw the broken one away. I see you smirking and thinking I'm being all whimsical, but I bet you'd feel grousy if someone threw away your favourite fork, or cracked your favourite cereal bowl. The lure of the ShinyNew is strong - see the gleaming red of curvy kissable KitchenAid ! - but my heart belongs with my Boxer like mixer. Old is Gold as they say. One box of chocolates and bunch of lillies for the lemon muffins then.

*My reader has suggested that some of my muffin dramas might be due to the levels of acid in different lemons. In most baking recipes where there is acid content, bicarb of soda is added ( aswell as baking powder) to neutralize the acid ( the Edward Woodward Equalizer of the kitchen) and help the stuff to rise (its 4 times more powerful than baking powder  ( Edward Woodward pimped in a cape then, who can now fly and shoots laserbeams from his eyes). So maybe thats why its changeable. Maybe.

Sausages, Simply Red & Simpering

If you filter the world and its goings on through the newspapers and tv alone, its almost obligatory to take a pretty dim view of proceedings. And there is a lot of dim and grim, there’s no doubting it. And that, coupled with the wearying routines of most peoples working day leaves little energy for wide eye wondering at well, natures wonders. I get irritated by, rather than amused by, the harmless posturing squealing chatter of a group of actually, fairly decent teenage girls. This isn’t an original sentiment, I know . Its RH Davies "What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare" and Ferris Bueller "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it" And to be anything other than smartly cynical in the gimlet eyed and purple bloated face of politics, economics, populist entertainment and adverts cashing gold meercats in car supermarkets or whatever ,would leave you wide open to the charge of being the greenest goofiest simpering chump who ever dared evince a Chewbacca like groan. Fair enough, there is plenty, ( and always plenty more to come) to be waspishly cynical and despairing about. Or even just things to be quietly ,intensely sad about - I’m thinking here of some friends who have had recent news of a terminal illness, a thing that can’t be soothed or bargained or loved away. I’m thinking of someone close who’s just lost a job, someone else who’s just had twins but now diagnosed with cancer. Much to be despairing about. And Piers Morgan mugging all over the telly, and Mick Hucknall, warbling mercenary little goblin not having the decency to call it a day. In casual conversation with a wise friend a couple of years ago ( I forget what we were bemoaning - it may have been a State Of The Nation opinion piece - or more likely a theatrically appalled dissection of yet another disappointing meal out. My friend has the most remarkable track record here. She attracts bad food and shoddy service the same way Greggs stock sausage rolls - constant, reassuring, inevitable If we ever get the time ( to stand and stare together), I’d love to give you a run down of her personal top ten bewilderingly thwarted attempts at simply enjoying a meal. One of her recent triumphs was being served the same ratatouille , at 4 distinctly advertised different courses over the duration of an evening. By the cunning insertion of a handful of raisins in one serving, an imperceptible change in temperature in another , serving it in a shot glass in the next and lastly ‘dressing’ the next serving with ( not hiding, definitely not hiding) rice, 4 different courses were indeed claimed by the restaurant. Room Restaurant, Manchester, I’m looking at you. And you’re not even looking away embarrassed are you ? Anyhoo…..there we were, bemoaning something) and we concluded that the best you can do, really, is to make your little corner of the world as pleasant as you can for as long as you can. No more revelatory that than the old adage of Count Your Blessings, but I think we only tend to do it when a crisis is on.... So I consider myself lucky in that I get to be involved in Happy Occasions - baking for weddings, parties, special occasions etc. And I consider myself lucky in that walking through Manor Park yesterday, I saw a lolloping fat brown spaniel chase hopefully chasing a lithe squirrel. And it made me laugh - the squirrel outpaced the spaniel, shot up a tree and sat there in regal regard at the dog. And the chubby spaniel whined and pawed the tree trunk a bit, and then, in what I can describe only as a kind of gallic shrug of his doggy shoulders, literally turned tail , cocked his leg and peed on the tree. Take that squirrel ! And I felt lucky that I saw a home made poster advertising a Hoe Down in a church hall, and I felt lucky to meet someone who is always good company for lunch, and I felt lucky to be able to pause and watch the tail end of a good humoured bowling match in the park. And I saw oak and sycamore leaves on the ground, and properly noticed autumn for the first time. And I’m happy that the Wheat sheaf ( where I had said lunch) has won an award for its sausages . I feel lucky to live in a place where a local pub makes sausages with local ales and local meat and wins awards. I’m happy that people give awards for sausages. And that people bother about community and raising money in church halls. I’m lucky to have been out again for lunch today, with good friends and lucky to be involved in their wedding ( who else would make the cake ?) I'm lucky I remembered to look around. Today the BT Infinity Advert with the shooting star light things make me go soppy. Today I’m the greenest goofiest simpering chump you ever did see. Aside from Piers Morgan.

feeding favourite famous people

Nigel Slater - a cold beer, a fat buttery baked potato, sticky mustardy sausages & plum crumble
Zooey Deschanel - a verdant green herb soup, gremolata & white peaches
David Mitchell - a rare roast beef sandwich, horseradish & mustard mayo, green leaves. Cup of tea & custard tart
Stephen Fry - red wine, egyptian tomato salad, salmon fillet wrapped in parma ham, asparagus, hollandaise, french green beans & raspberry pavlova
Mariella Frostrup - beetroot & goats cheese salad, hazelnut dressing, lemon tart
Michael Sheen - chorizo spit sizzling in red wine , olives, lemon marinated artichoke hearts . No bread. He keeps mercurial and slight.
Philip Larkin - a ham sandwich on white, smear of fierce hot mustard, gin and tonic and a rock cake
PG Wodehouse - toast, gentlemans relish, poached eggs, scones with jam and cream, trifle
Sue Perkins- roast tomato & roast red pepper risotto ( starter size) langoustines, deep fried courgette, key lime pie with ginger biscuit crust
Michel Roux Jnr - jersey new potatoes, salt, butter & mint. Cheese board. Must have roquefort.
Piers Morgan - kidding
You - fresh warm focaccia, thin but large crust base pizza , fresh tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella, oregano. homemade vanilla icecream, warm chocolate sauce.
 

 

Muffin to worry about

Muffins. Stroppy.

A couple of years back, I read A Fact which made me smile ( I think I read it in Elizabeth David's English Bread and Yeast Cookery) - that an old ladies tea party used to be called a Muffin Worry. How could that not make you smile ? I'm fairly sure it was in reference to english muffins, the round yeasted dough bread ( not the belly bulge over hang on tight trouser - I guess thats what young ladies worry about at tea parties. Because they're always at tea parties these young folk) and not the the American/ Canadian cake bread style ones. Anyhoo, description read and thought nothing of until yesterday, as I was baking some of the American style ones for the coffee shop, some lemon and poppy seed and something that I've done a hundred times over. Mix made as usual, carefully spooned ( well, I use an ice cream scoop) into the cases, left to bake for 20 mins and out they came...(cake drama ! cake drama!) ...half the size they normally do, with flat smooth tops. They came out the size of cupcakes (where I strive constantly for said flat smooth top, all the better to thickly ice), and were still springy, moist and perfectly edible, just....well, not mighty and tall and splendid. Puzzled it out for a bit, consulted sources, questioned equipment , peered into oven accusingly ( incidently, I always use oven thermometers as I've learnt to be distrustful of manufacturers over the years. I'm not saying they lie, but they are very much mistaken) and drew blanks. Drank a coffee and calmly made another batch, and whaddya know ? Out they came, mighty and tall and splendid. I am looking you beseechingly in the eye and telling you, I did nothing different. Muffin Worry ! Muffin Drama ! Still a bit non plussed by it, except to say that I'm very sure that every now and again, food just likes to be mischevious and won't be taken for granted. At the risk of coming over a bit Prince Charles, I already (albeit silently) entreat cakes to please please bake agreeably, but I guess we all get stroppy sometimes. Recipe as below. Show it who's boss. Muffin Worries aside, its been a week of autumnal eating, roasting of potato, parsnip and chicken (note - cold roast chicken - v good smeared with last weeks chilli jam) and baking of pears , a determination to cook Something Proper everyday. The cooler weather always gets me this way. Actually, the baked pears were one of the most low effort high reward things I've eaten in a long while, so I'll post that recipe too. I think, in the sweetly 1950's language that some food magazines drift into, that the pears might also be 'smart' enough to serve at a dinner party. Perhaps those young folk will serve them at one of their tea parties.

Lemon & Poppyseed Muffins.

Makes 12 large

3 eggs
150g caster sugar
360 ml milk
150ml veg oil
350g plain flour
3 and a half tsp baking powder
1 and a half tsp bicarb of soda
half tsp salt
zest of 3 lemons, chopped finely
4 tbsp lemon juice
1 - 2 tbsp poppy seeds

Oven at 200 degrees. In one bowl, sift the flour, then mix with lemon zest, salt, baking powder, bicarb,poppy seeds and sugar. In another bowl , mix the wet ingredients - beat the egg, then add the oil, milk and lemon juice. Combine the 2 mixes ( I use a large metal spoon. I think its supposed to be a salad server..) and scoop or pour carefully into cases - they should be full. Bake for 20 mins, till risen ( ........) and springy. Take out of the tin as soon as your brave little fingers allow - don't let them steam/ keeping cooking on in the tin if you can help it. I make a lemon drizzle topping to spoon over while they are still warm - combine juice of 1 - 2 lemon with approx 85 - 100g caster sugar. Thats it.

Autumnal pears - for 2 people

Think of this as more refined pears in custard. Bananas would work also I think.

Oven at 180

2 - 3 ripe pears, peeled and cored ( or use tinned)
150 ml double cream
scant half tsp cinnamon
2 tablespoons caster sugar
tsp of vanilla extract
3 -4 ginger biscuits, smashed up into jaggedy crumbs

Butter a small baking dish, tuck the pears in ( I placed them in top to tail style). Whisk the cream lightly with the sugar, cinnamon and vanilla and pour over the pears. Bake for 20 mins til the cream is thickened and started to brown and bubble. Smash up the ginger biscuits, crumble over the cream. Seriously, seriously, transportingly good. Don't speak while you eat it, commune with it.