daddy, daddy cool...

On Friday my father received some rather fantastic news and the family had a little celebration on Sunday night.  So, I thought, I'll use this as an opportunity to try another recipe (I have to say that as someone who tries to eat healthy and not have sweets, cookies or cakes in the house, this blog is proving rather tricky so I'm trying to find reasons to bake and then remove the results from the house!  I know, I know, digressing).  I sent my father a text to ask him what his favourite recipe was, it went like this:

So, I set about making butterscotch flavoured Angel Delight for my pa, not...

Like the text says, this is one of my fave desserts (not desert, I don't have a fave desert, that'd be weird) and I have actually attempted it once before.  I should note this isn't to be confused with Creme Brulee which I haven't been able to eat since a certain "incident".  Anyway, last time I made it the caramel didn't go quite to plan (burnt sugar is not tasty) and the custard tasted distinctly eggy.  The recipe was from one of my mum's '80s cook books that contained other delights such as "prawn cocktail in a marie rose sauce", "vol au vents" and "cheese and pineapple on sticks stuck into an orange" (I secretly love all of these things).  I'm not sure if the recipe was the reason my creme caramel was not a success but in my mind I am a rival to Michel Roux Jr. so it must have been the recipe and not me (reality and I have been strangers for some time now).

Anyway, this time I went with the British answer to Martha Stewart (but, as far as I'm aware, a little less involved in criminal activities but more involved with Canaries), Delia Smith.  The recipe and method is set out below pretty much verbatim, however, I have added extra "clarifications".

The recipe - Creme Caramel (with thanks to Delia)

For the caramel:
6oz (175g) white caster sugar
2 tablespoons tap-hot water

For the custard:
5fl oz (150ml) whole milk
10fl oz (275ml) single cream
4 large fresh eggs (fresh fresh FRESH, it makes the custard less eggy)
1 tsp pure vanilla extract

1. Pre-heat the oven to 150C (gas mark 2 or 300F)

2. Begin by making the caramel.  To do this, put the sugar in a saucepan and place it over a medium heat. Leave it like that, keeping an eye on it, until the sugar begins to melt and just turn liquid around the edges, which will take 4-6 minutes.  Now give the pan a good shake and leave it again to melt until about a quarter of the sugar has melted. 

3. Using a wooden spoon, give it a gentle stir and continue to cook and stir until the sugar has transformed from crystals to liquid and is the colour of dark runny honey – the whole thing should take 10-15 minutes. Then take the pan off the heat and add 2 tablespoons of water, being a bit cautious here, as it sometimes splutters at this stage (it did, step back, wear gloves, go for the full lab wear if you feel the need).

Mmmm caramel.  Must. Not. Touch....resist....

As an aside, if you have a small toddler I would seriously not recommend attempting to make the caramel unless she is in another room being occupied by another adult or out of the house (although that isn't me saying that you should put the toddler out the back door, close it and let her run riot unsupervised in the garden either). Whatever, I had enough issues resisting the urge to lick the caramel off the spoon, I didn't need the added fear of my toddler with 1st degree burns (and with her mother's track record, the odds were STACKED against us).

Gu Gu

4. Now you may need to return the pan to a low heat to re-melt the caramel, stirring until any lumps have dissolved again.  Then quickly pour two thirds of the caramel into a soufflé dish (or in my case spoon 2/3 tablespoons of the caramel into 7 little glass dishes*), tipping it round the base and sides to coat.

*We have probably over 20 of these little glass dishes.  Hubby has a sweet tooth and seems to have taken it upon himself to support the Gu brand...I don't mind though as they're great for cooking!

5.  Now make the custard.  To do this, pour the milk and cream into the saucepan containing the rest of the caramel, then place this over a gentle heat and this time use a whisk to thoroughly combine everything. Don't panic if you get a great clag of caramel clinging to your whisk or there's some stuck around the edges of the pan – remember that the saucepan is over the heat and the heat will melt it.  Eventually is the word, so be patient (Delia?  How do you know me so well??). When it's all melted, remove the pan from the heat.

6. Next, break the eggs into a large bowl or jug and whisk them, then pour the hot milk that's now blended with the remaining caramel into this mixture, whisking it in as you pour (make sure the milk isn't too hot or it will scramble the eggs!). Next, add the vanilla extract and, after that, pour the whole lot through a sieve into the caramel-lined dishes (I didn't, the world didn't end). If you have any caramel left on the base of the pan, to clean it fill the pan with hot water and a drop of washing-up liquid and place it over the heat again – then it will wash off easily.

7. Now place the creme caramels in a deep roasting tin and pour in enough hot water to come two thirds of the way up the dishes. Place the whole thing on the centre shelf of the pre-heated oven and leave it there for 1¼ hours (or between 50mins to 1 hour for the individual creme caramels), until the custard is set in the centre, which means it should feel firm and springy to the touch.

...the creme caramel settled in to enjoy the mood lighting of the oven...

Then remove it from the roasting tin and, when it's completely cold, cover with clingfilm and chill thoroughly for several hours in the fridge (I put them in the fridge overnight) before turning out.

I served the creme caramels in their dishes and let my family decide if they wanted to turn them out onto their plates.  I did, it took a little coaxing but sliding a knife around the edge and prising it back just a little to let some air in and out they popped.  It was, I have to say, very good.  The caramel was all melted and infused into the custard; the custard wasn't eggy.  It was just yummy.  My mother, who isn't a big eater, ate two.  Sums it up rather well I think! 

Michel Roux?  Michel who?

Right, my small person has asked for baby corn muffins so hi-ho-hi-ho-its off to bake I go...

Doughnuts? Doh!! Nuts!! There goes the diet...

So what did I do with the other dough ball?  I know, the suspense is palpable.  You were sat on the floor of the living room in the deepest depths of despair crying "Please...please, why are you keeping this from me?? Why?  What happened with the dough!!!!".  I know, I've been there.

Fear not, the answer is here.

Says it all really.

The last trip to the USA my in-laws properly acquainted me with the delights of fried dough.  It's the kind of food that is typically served at fairs, carnivals and theme parks, that sort of thing.  You can have sweet or savoury toppings on them, like sugar and cinnamon or tomato sauce and parmesan (both, FYI, are crazy tasty).  It really is pretty self explanatory - its dough that's been fried.

Since I had the other big dough ball I figured I'd attempt to make doughnuts out of it.  So I made lots of little balls of dough and let them prove again overnight (not in the airing cupboard this time, just on the counter).

When I went to make the doughnuts in the morning, however, the pizza dough had its own ideas.

Pizza dough is quite a soft and sticky dough (which, by the way, keeps rising and rising and rising if you let it) so when I opened the container the dough had risen and spread but become incredibly soft.  Just picking a ball up deflated it and set my plans for beautiful homemade doughnuts for breakfast (what an incredible wife) asunder.  Not one to accept defeat I switched things up and figured I'd make fried dough instead.

1. Very simply, I half-filled a medium sized frying pan with vegetable oil (ideally you want enough so that the dough floats but please be careful not to fill the pan too high) and put it on a medium heat.  You could, of course, use a deep fat fryer (mmm, I can feel my arteries clogging already). 

2. I then teased the dough into discs.

3. Using little bits of dough to test the heat, once the oil was at the right temperature (it bubbled when I put the dough in) I carefully lowered a couple of bits of dough into the oil.  Using a spatula and fork, after about 2 minutes (or until the immersed dough is golden - you can see the difference in colour on the edges of the dough) I flipped the dough over for another 2 minutes (or until the then immersed dough is golden).

4. I then set the dough aside on a plate covered with kitchen roll to drain some of the oil.

5. Next you have a couple of choices (involving sub-choices):

• choose a topping - I went with granulated sugar and cinnamon (you could go with confectioners sugar (powdered or liquid) or whatever you want);
• choose how to apply it - I went with the sprinkle approach, you could go with the full on plunge (i.e. put the sugar and cinnamon in a dish and roll the dough around in the sugar until it's fully coated).

6. Fill your boots with sugary doughy goodness!  Bon-app!

Nom.

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amore

My earliest proper mummy/daughter cooking memory takes us back to the reception class of my primary school in North London.  It was the '80s, I was wearing a loud Osh Kosh B'Gosh outfit, my 2 younger siblings had not yet joined the party and my mummy was the most important person in my world (I apologise, that sentence sounded a lot more "Dirty Dancing" than I intended).  I'm not sure if it was a "show-and-tell-your-parent" type scenario or if, it being a middle class area where most of the mothers didn't work, it was expected that the mothers would come in to class to help once in a while.  Either way I was incredibly excited about my mum's visit and couldn't wait to show off "my-mother-cos-she's-better-than-yours".  My mum was coming into class to teach us all how to make pizza and so my class spent a lovely afternoon making pizza with my mother.  MY MOTHER.  I was not a happy camper.  In our house my older sister was very much a daddy's girl and I was very much a mummy's girl.  That's just how it was.  I wasn't used to sharing my mummy or her praise.  As the afternoon progressed I grew more and more frustrated* with the fact that my mother was being nice to the other kids and not giving me 100% of her attention (much like my husband is behaving right now because I'm writing this blog instead of giving him my undivided attention).  I'm pretty certain I caught a "talking to" and I'm also certain I deserved it.  I don't remember if the pizza was any good.

Pizza ranks very highly in our house.  One of the biggest things we miss from living in the US is Jerry's Pizza in Middletown, CT.  For some reason the UK pizza places just can't get it right.  We've ordered local, Pizza Hut, Perfect Pizza, Dominoes, Papa Johns and still they never get it right.  Well since the Christmas CT trip I vowed to find out how to make NY style pizza dough so, as part of my procrastination to avoid spring cleaning, I took a bash at it tonight.

I flicked through a couple of my US cook books and couldn't find anything so turned to the good old t'internet and this one seemed worth trying.

The recipe - NY style pizza (slightly adapted as usual)

Pizza dough

1 1/2 cups warm water (between 105F-110F)

4 1/2 cups of bread flour
1 tablespoon of olive oil
2 1/2 teaspoons of granulated sugar
2 teaspoons of salt
2 teaspoons of active dried yeast

Tomato sauce

1 small clove of garlic
1 tablespoon of olive oil
1 tin of chopped tomatoes
1/2 teaspoon of basil
1/2 teaspoon of oregano
salt and pepper
dash of Tabasco

1. In a large bowl, dissolve the yeast, sugar and salt in the warm water (you can give it a bit of a stir to help it out).

2. Add the olive oil and flour and stir with a metal spoon until the ingredients all come together into a dough (this should not take too long).

3. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 12 minutes.

4. Mold the dough into a ball (the dough ball shouldn't have any visible seams anywhere but the underside of the dough ball).

The dough chills out with
the towels

5. Lightly wipe a little olive oil around the inside of a large bowl and place the dough ball into the bowl, seam side down.  Apply a little olive oil to the top of the dough ball (this helps stop it forming a skin).  Cover the bowl cling film and allow to proof for 1−2 hours in the airing cupboard or wherever you feel the need to put your dough (you can leave it at room temperature but our kitchen can get a little cold).  You can make the dough in advance and store it in refrigerator to use the next day. 

6. While the dough is proving make the tomato sauce.  Heat the olive oil in a frying pan and cook the garlic until it is lightly golden.  Add all of the other ingredients to the pan and cook for a further 5-10 minutes.  Leave aside to cool.

7. Once at least doubled in size retrieve the dough, divide into 2 pieces and turn one of the pieces out onto a lightly floured surface.  Leave the other piece in the bowl and cover. 

Lightly flour the top, then using your fingertips evenly flatten out the dough ball. 

8. Working from the edge to the centre of the dough, press the dough into a 12" circle.  Then place both hands on the dough and stretch with fingertips and palms maintaining an even pressure. (you could also use a lightly floured rolling pin).

9. Transfer the dough (now our base) onto a pizza stone (or a baking sheet would work).

10. Call for "assistance" to make the pizza.  Apply the tomato sauce, and allow a half naked toddler to help put the toppings on (we decided to go with half ham and pineapple and half pepperoni - little Miss Naughty also decided to provide an additional topping and sneezed on the pepperoni half - which was fine by me since it was the husbands half) and sprinkle tons of mozzarella cheese all over it.  Please note that the toddler will also need to be watched to prevent a reduction in the amount of toppings available...the ham and pineapple, in our instance, kept disappearing.... 

Half ham and pineapple, half pepperoni and sneeze

11. Bake in a really hot oven - 225C until the crust is golden and the cheese all melted.

  

  

12.  EAT!

The pizza was pretty good.  In fact, in the words of the husband it was "pretty damn close" which with him is a fantastic response for my first effort.  The little one also enjoyed it, barely speaking and sitting still the entire dinner.  Result!

The actual making of the dough was a pretty easy process to be honest - whack everything in the bowl in the right order, mush it into a dough then let it prove.  Bish, bash, bosh and you're done!  That being said, I will play around with it next time, for example:

(i) I didn't exactly follow the original recipe (see a pattern here?) as it said "half a teaspoon of yeast" but:

• it didn't specify whether it meant fresh yeast or active dried; and
• every other recipe I looked at called for at least 2 teaspoons of active dried yeast,

so I went with 2 teaspoons of active dried yeast (as noted in the recipe above).

(ii) It was tricky getting the oven the right temperature to cook the pizza evenly.  Next time I will put the stone in the oven to heat up, prepare the pizza on a separate board and then try to transfer it onto the hot stone.  I may also lower the temperature of the oven to stop the sides cooking faster, or even attempt to use the grill with the hot stone to get the heat going from top to bottom; bottom to top.

(iii) In line with (ii) I'm seriously tempted to by myself a pizza peel.

(iv) The dough really rose very well (a little too well), so next time I will try a couple of things, either:

• divide the dough into 3 balls and stretch the dough out even thinner;
• still divide the dough into 2 balls but prick the dough all over with a fork to see if that helps aerate the base (and not rise so much); or
• use a little less yeast.

(v) With the sauce, I'll use a little less herbs next time.  I like a herby tomato sauce on pasta but not so much on my pizza.

Who needs Dominoes eh??

Oh, and if you're wondering what happened to the other dough ball just wait...

*devil child

Please rise!

This Christmas morning, having opened all of our presents and waiting for the little one to slowly (painfully slowly) work her way though the mountain of presents her grandparents had bought her, my mother-in-law called us for breakfast.  What greeted us was an enormous tray of enormous pumpkin cinnamon rolls.  They were hot (fresh from the oven) sticky, sweet, gooey and incredibly naughty - the kind of treat that makes you gain about 5lbs simply by smelling them.

Point is, they were crazy good.

I said before my mother-in-law is a good baker, well that doesn't stop with cakes.  She's also particularly good with breads.  I, however, am particularly rubbish with breads....

Bread: A catalogue of failures:

1.  About a week ago I made a very nice bit of broccoli soup for my dad and sister and attempted to make some foccacia with it.  We had a packet of foccacia bread mix (the "just add water" variety) so I figured it would be pretty tough to muck it up and the end result would be me looking like the perfect little housewife.  Things did not go to plan.  I made up the mix and put the dough in the airing cupboard to rise.  I came back an hour later and NOTHING had happened.  Being my usual impatient self I just shoved it in the oven and hoped the heat might kick start something.  It didn't and whilst it smelled really good it was like a brick.  When I served it I said it was unleavened bread and they appeared to buy the little white lie (it still tasted good).  On closer inspection I later discovered that the packet said "Best Before June 2010" so this may have been the root of the problem.

2.  On another occasion I attempted to make french baguettes.  I bought a great pan from William Sonoma my favourite store  (oh my god they deliver to the UK now, girl clap!), got very excited and set everything up to do some baking.  They looked good, they rose, they smelled good but then I tasted them.  Salt.  Lots of salt.  I have no idea what happened to this day but all I know is that the bread tasted like an overly salted pretzel.  It was still edible but wasn't really what I was aiming for.  I was going for a "du pain, du vin, du boursin" type moment and instead got a "hoo-ee y'all it tastes good with Heluva Onion Dip" type moment.

These may be just 2 examples, but I already had the fear in me about my bread making abilities.  The problem was that the husband loved the pumpkin cinnamon rolls and with his birthday fast approaching (and as previously mentioned rather strangely he doesn't like cake) I knew they would be a good thing to make as a substitute birthday cake.  However, I sucked it up and decided I'd try it.  I'd also shot myself in the foot and bigged it up at work promising to bring some in so the stakes were now pretty high.

Again, this is one of my M-i-L's recipes and she would prefer me not to publish it so instead of rambling on like I did last time with the cookies I figured I'd talk through the process.  I also took a bunch of pictures when things started going right as I was so excited about it (I am fully aware of how pathetic that sounds).  And I guess revealing certain ingredients isn't against the rule, I mean everyone knows bread has yeast in it!

Step 1 - mixing the ingredients to make the dough and first proving 
I have an amazing Kitchen aid mixer however its American so has an American plug.  Even using a step down we have had a couple of casualties with our American electricals, big ticket items too, including my beloved Dyson and our PC (smoke actually came out of the back of the PC).  I am now terrified to even attempt to plug my Kitchen aid in.  Anyway, the whole point is that I had to mix by hand and was paranoid that it wouldn't mix well.  The dough was quite sticky because of the sugars and pudding mix (this usually helps keep whatever you're baking stay moist - no giggling please!) so was difficult to mix by hand but it finally came together (mixing was also tricky with my 2yr old "helper" who wanted to help pour ingredients in whilst providing a running commentary).  With great trepidation I put the dough in the airing cupboard and held my breath for an hour and a half.  I have to say, I was almost hoping that it wouldn't rise so I could add it to my list of bread failures but...

Ta daaaaa!

Step 2 - Rolling out the dough and second proving
It was going well!  Now I was paranoid that I'd knock the air out of in in the rolling.

I punched the dough down and freaked out that the dough was too sticky but chucked a load of flour on the board and hoped for the best.  I then attempted to roll the dough into a rectangle of sorts, brushed melted butter all over the rectangle and sprinkled a mixture of cinnamon and sugar all over it.  
    

Yes, this does look like dough with dirt sprinkled all over it
(nothing but the best for my family!)

        

Starting at the back long side (don't ask me why I didn't start from the front, looking at it here that clearly seems more logical) I rolled the dough into a log (next time I do make the rolls I'm going to roll the dough out on baking paper so I can just pull the paper forward to help roll the dough more easily).  The recipe said to pinch the edge to seal the dough but the flour really didn't want this to happen to it didn't work great.

Next I cut the log in half and then each half into 3 pieces.  I placed the pieces in a buttered dish and reintroduced the dough to the airing cupboard.  Having decided that this time they definitely wouldn't rise I was again pleasantly surprised....

Before

After spending time with the towels

Step 3 - off to the oven!
Then it was off to the oven whilst I set my hands to the cinnamon icing and resisting the urge not to just eat the bowl of icing.  The icing was more of a spreading consistency so as soon as the rolls came out of the oven I spread the icing all over the rolls.

Step 4 - Lick the icing bowl, the whisk, the spatula and eat an enormous piece of cinnamon roll

And there you have it, ooey, gooey and going straight to your hips!

The verdict was pretty good all round - husband ate them, Posie ate them and the guys at work ate all but a corner of a piece from the tray I took in.  So its official, I CAN make bread.  Maybe I'll try iced buns next?

  

COOKIE MONSTER!

I don't know why or when it became such a phenomenon, but over the pond EVERYONE seems to make cookie trays to give as gifts at Christmas.  This past Christmas it seemed like every Americano I know was posting a status update on Facebook about making cookies and the related dramas (ok, drama is probably too strong a word).  Not that I'm knocking it, I'm pro-cookie after all (you might say I'm part of the Urban Cookie Collective - HAHAHA), I just don't understand where it came from.

I once made chocolate truffles to give to work colleagues at Christmas (they were sinful - the truffles not the colleagues - well, not that I'm aware of, you never know what people are like behind closed doors).  Proper presentation boxes and everything!  I would certainly do it again if I had the time BUT...conversely, although the idea is that you're making the truffles to show the person you're giving them to that you care (but not quite enough to part with your cash and buy them something), you spend a huge amount of time labouring over the things and then give those you love some tat you picked up at Macy's that you really have no idea if they actually need let alone want.  Oddly, if I gave my husband a box of handmade truffles, lovingly made by my fair hands, I'd almost feel like I was copping out if I know that he wants the latest Madden.  Surely the truffles would be the better gift?
I should say right now that I could probably give the hubby truffles and he'd be perfectly happy with them.  But then he loves chocolate.

Anyway, back to the cookies. 

My mother-in-law is a great baker and every year she also makes Christmas cookies.  Trays and trays and trays of great mountains of cookies that she sells (at far too low a price for the amount of blood, sweat and tears that go into them - obviously not literally though, ew).  These aren't just Christmas themed cookies though (i.e. sugar cookies in various Christmassy shapes), her cookies range from Hungarian cookies to coconut cookies, caramel dipped cookies to the contentious pinoli cookies (don't ask), biscotti to the all-time American favourite: the soft-batch chocolate chip cookie. 

Grandma's little elf

Now the chocolate chip cookie makes me think of the all American "mom" that you used to see on TV, think "The Wonder Years".  Kevin would come trotting in after school or some quaint incident with Winnie (FYI according to IMDB they are both still acting?!?) and the mum would sit him down and give him milk and cookies.  My mum is also great baker and when I was little I used to love baking with her and making these little treats (although I would typically devour mine before I had a chance to taste it and then sit eye-balling my older sister who seemed to be nibbling hers like a hamster as if to torture me).  She would even let us lick the bowl (shock of all shocks, health and safety would have a field day).  Point is, homemade cookies make me get all nostalgic.

I always wanted to be this type of a mum, so on our recent visit to the US my mother-in-law said I could have her soft-batch chocolate chip recipe.  True to her word she emailed me the recipe to make in time for the hubby's birthday so I whipped up a batch on Sunday.  These cookies are just perfect little things, chewy and chocolatey and remind you just a little bit of being a kid.  Now because she sells the cookies it wouldn't be fair for me to publish the recipe (I'm sorry!), but if I've learnt anything the secret to a good soft-batch cookie is brown sugar.  That's what gives it the chewy texture and makes it crazy good.  I played around with the recipe a little as it called for a HUGE amount of chocolate (when I say "played" I mean I forgot to pick up extra chocolate so had to make do with the amount I had).  I also learnt that when you ask for a cookie recipe from a lady who makes cookies in quantities to sell, you should probably check how much the recipe makes.  The cookies just kept coming.  It was like they were replicating.  I reckon I ended up with around 60 in total from just 1 batch.  "Great!" you may think, except that I don't keep sweet things in the house for a reason and I now can't stop eating the cookies.  No really, I can't stop.  I somehow convinced myself yesterday that cookies could most definitely fall within the "breakfast" category so ate about 10 before 10.30am.  Not conducive to losing the Christmas podge.

As for other people's views, hubster loved them, the new work colleagues loved them, the parents loved them (although my father seemed quintessentially English and confused about them when he tried the first cookie - Me: "Dad, try a soft-batch cookie.  What do you think?" Dad: "They taste good but they're a bit soft"?!) and as for Pose, well....

Damn it, I meant to exercise tonight but instead I spent 2 hours writing about cookies.  How ironic is that?

baby muffins prease

Having a toddler in the house we tend to always have an abundance of fruit, and because of that same toddler and her ever changing opinion on food these days ("no mummy, no like!"), we sometime have an abundance of fruit on the verge of going to that great compost heap in the sky.  Saying that, it always ends up being bananas so we always make banana bread or muffins with them.

My husband has never liked cake (weirdo) but always loved sweet breads (not sweetbreads, that's an entirely different thing, and in my opinion, gross).  Back when we lived in the US and during my "I'm-waiting-for-my-visa-so-I-can't-work-so-I'll-aim-to-be-a-Martha-Stewart-type-housewife-but-better-than-Martha-Stewart-and-without-the-criminal-record" phase, I found a great banana bread recipe which I've played around with ever since.  And, it happens to be gluten free.


Ok, so this isn't technically a new recipe but it was tweaked slightly both accidentally and purposefully this weekend.

The recipe - Gluten Free Banana Bread

110g/4oz butter (softened)
110g/4oz caster sugar
2 large eggs
3 large ripe bananas (the more over ripe the better)
175g/6oz rice flour
50g/2oz cornflour
2tsp baking powder
1/2tsp salt

- Set oven to 180c/350f/gas mark 4
- butter loaf/mini muffin pan
- cream butter and sugar until pale/light/soft
- add eggs to the creamed sugar one at a time and beating well in between
- mash bananas and add to the sugar/egg mix
- sift rice flour/corn flour/baking powder/salt and fold carefully into the mix
- bake 11/4 - 11/2 hours for loaf / 25min for mini muffins (although watch these as the time does seem to vary oven to oven!)

"What was different?" I hear you scream with desperation (or was that me).

Batch No. 1 (the "Harpenden Half-Batch" that ended up not being gluten free)
On Saturday, having noticed that the bananas had gone black but only having one egg in the fridge, I decided to divide the quantities in half and make a smaller batch, however:
- I didn't particularly want half a banana lying around so I threw 2 bananas in (instead of 11/2 - look at me doing maths!).
- I have a couple of different jars of flour none of which are labelled and assumed (incorrectly) that the smaller jar of flour had rice flour in.  It didn't.  It was corn flour.  But I had already added it to the bowl so decided to live dangerously.
- Because of the corn flour incident, I replaced the corn flour I should have put in with self-raising flour.

I made mini-muffins (which my daughter still calls baby corn muffins, irrespective of the fact that these are not baby corn muffins) which were pretty damn more-ish albeit a little on the sweet side (and no longer gluten free).  That being said, there are very few left 2 days later.

Batch No. 2 (the "Berko Batch")
My daughter and I took a trip to my mother's house for Sunday lunch whilst the hubby was off at sports practise.  My husband told me today that he thinks I have ADD, and in true form whilst at mum's house I noticed she too had some black bananas.  She had asked for the recipe so I offered to make her some muffins.  The differences were planned this time, so:
- My mother has always been into weird and wonderful things and suggested I use something called "Kuzu" instead of the corn flour.
- The bananas were on the small side, so I used 5 instead of the suggested 3.
- I threw a teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda (for no good reason other than I felt like it) to help the muffins rise.

I made big muffins this time and the official taste tester (the bubba) devoured a whole one so by all accounts, the results were good.  I had a bite and they tasted great but with a little bit of a bitter aftertaste.  I think the aftertaste is down to the Kuzu, however this could also be down to the fact that without reading the instructions on the Kuzu box I tried to crush the Kuzo into a powder and then sift it in with the rice flour.  I then read the instructions on the Kuzu box and it says to dissolve the Kuzu into a little cold water first.  My impatience shoots me in the foot yet again...

My mother is taking them with her to a course for pilates instructors.  I await their feedback with baited breath!

So, what did I learn?  When you assume you make an "ass" out of "u" and "me".

Anyone can write, right?

My family can talk for England.  I once asked my sister if she was like a shark - I heard that if they stop swimming they die, so I queried if she stops talking would the same principal apply?  Funnily enough she didn't like that comment.  But I digress....

I've always wanted to write but have never really had the patience nor the time to actually sit and write anything down.  Journals always last a couple of weeks, maybe months, and then I just forget or life just gets in the way.  Its not for lack of ideas, just lack of drive I guess.

Then you have to factor in my job.  My contract may contain my "regular hours" but as those who know me or are lawyers themselves will tell you, if the client says to you at 9pm "I need it by 9am tomorrow" then you need to deliver.  I have worked many an all-nighter in my career, including since having my daughter, and it's not exactly conducive to letting you have a home life let alone a social life (I apologise again to those of my friends whose birthdays I have had to miss because of work).

In fact life seemed very much a get-up, go to work, come home, go to bed, get-up, go to work never ending cycle with very little time to do anything else but see the house or the office.  Where are my violins??

So what's changed?

From the beginning of this year I have been sent by my firm to work in-house for a client.  When I met with the client before Christmas they were at great pains to assure me that they would reinstate my work/life balance....and they've been true to their word.  I started last week and have only arrived home late twice: the first night was because I went to watch my very talented baby sister dance (she is a professional ballerina) and the second was tonight because the people at First Capital Connect are incapable of running a train service at all, let alone on time.  Anyway, the point remains that I suddenly have time.

Over the Christmas break we went back to the USA to visit my in-laws and my little one was introduced to corn muffins (the Jiffy "just add eggs and milk" kind).  She is now obsessed with corn muffins.  She was still asking for corn muffins when we got back to the UK and since I wasn't due back at work for a few days, pulled a few recipes out and did some baking.  It kick started something in me and reminded me how much I enjoy cooking and baking but either have too little time to do anything or am just too tired.  Since then (a week and a bit) I have baked cookies, 2 batches of corn muffins and 2 batches of banana muffins and I've enjoyed pottering away in the kitchen, sometimes with the little one's help, sometimes just singing loudly to a CD.

Laying in bed last night I decided to force myself to take advantage of the time I've been given, even if its just for the 6 months of my secondment.  So I set myself a task to get back in the kitchen and try my hand at writing.

The Task: Tackle at least one new recipe a week and blog about it. 

Here goes nothing...