unexpected fluttering

We're big on notes in our family. Not so much of the 'thank you for the thoughtful gift' variety but more often than not our handwritten notes feature the details of a new favourite restaurant, important bus route numbers or, from when we've holidayed together, instructions as to our whereabouts - 'gone to the shop to get fish, bread, milk etc back soon.' 

I have always been a collector of words (I still have all my childhood and teenage journals, detailing fervent plans to have exciting haircuts and boyfriends and amazing clothes and I've kept just about every birthday card I've ever been given) so I find it hard to throw these notes away. I feel like there's something of the person preserved in the note. Sometimes when pulling a cookbook out from the shelf a note will come unexpectedly fluttering out from between the pages and I'll find myself tearing up at the sight of my Mum or Grandmother's handwriting. 

I came across one of these such recipes the other day, for Armenian Nutmeg Cake, and knew that I wanted to make it as part of this month's cooking club challenge (which incidentally is all about recipes handed down by voice, handwritten notes or memories). The funny thing is I can't remember for the life of me who usually made this cake, whether it was my Mum or my Dad, as they're both pretty good cooks. Dad was normally in charge of dessert when they were having guests over but the nuts and spices in it has all the hallmarks of a Mum-type cake, the kind that as a child I would probably not have been interested in picking at before the guests arrived.  

Regardless of who was the author of this cake, the minute I tasted it I was transported back to Sunday guest lunches in our old house in Pennant Hills. I think it somewhat miraculous that time can be preserved in a recipe like that. In sharing this recipe with you, hopefully you can make it and create your own new timeline.

Armenian Nutmeg Cake

2 cups brown sugar
2 cups wholemeal flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
125g butter
1 egg
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon nutmeg
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon carbonate of soda
walnuts

Set your oven to moderate (180°C) and grease a 20cm cake tin.

Combine the brown sugar, sifted flour and baking powder; rub in the butter until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. Place half of this mixture evenly over the base of your cake tin and press down lightly with a fork to form a base. 

Dissolve the carbonate of soda in the milk; add the beaten egg and nutmeg. Pour this on to the remaining crumb mixture in your bowl and mix well. Pour this onto the tin, sprinkle with chopped walnuts. Bake in a moderate oven for an hour. Check on the cake about halfway through the cooking time and if it's getting quite brown you can cover it with aluminium foil. Once cooked through, allow the cake to stand in the tin for five minutes before turning onto a rack to cool.

And there you have it. 

It's sort of halfway between a cake and a slice and is at once both chewy and slightly crunchy, caramelly and spicy. Not the most beautiful of cakes but a damn good afternoon cake or one for when friends drop by. One thing though, if you're prone to colourful dreaming perhaps avoid having it just before bed. I don't think the teaspoon of nutmeg is enough to bring on the screaming jeebies but just to be on the safe side...

For a lot more wonderfully inspired recipes and memories have a look and see what the other cooking club members got up to this month:

Lucent Imagery  (cooking club founder)

From River’s Edge
Down by the Sea 

Explody Full 

Under Lock & Key  

Christa to the Max 

Juanita Tortilla 

...

buds and biscuits

Observations from the first weekend of Spring:

~ It was surprisingly cool, as if nature was saying 'don't get too hasty throwing off that Winter garb'.

~ From our back yard I spotted birds flying in arrow formation for what felt like the first time and marvelled at how that was possible.

~ A smiley face appeared in the sky with a word after it - I thought it was going to be decide but it ended up being decorug (whatever that is?).

~ A friend dropped round on Saturday with pear tart, which was surprisingly good.

~ We had lunch at my parent's house for Father's Day and talked lots about our upcoming trip to London - did I mention that we were going to London in two weeks? I don't think I have... 

~ I sat in the garden with Kristian and my mum, soaking up the sun and checking out the new buds and shoots coming up.

~ I made some protein-rich gingerbread biscuits to fatten up my Dad (and ate a few of the misshapen ones myself).  

Gingerbread Biscuits

Adapted from Breakfast, Lunch, Tea, by Rose Carrarini

125g unsalted butter, softened

90g brown sugar

3 Tbsps molasses (or golden syrup works just as well)

1 egg, beaten

370g plain flour, sifted (I substituted 100g of flour for quinoa flakes, to up the protein)

1 tsp bicarbonate of soda

1/2 tsp salt

1 Tbsp ground ginger

1 tsp ground cinnamon

1 tsp mixed spice

Beat the butter, sugar and molasses/ golden syrup until pale and well combined. 

Add in the egg, then fold through the flour and other dry ingredients until the mixture forms a good dough. You might need to add a little extra flour or another egg if your dough is too wet or dry. 

Roll the dough into a ball and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 180°C/ 350°F. Butter a baking tray.

Roll out your dough until it is about 5mm thick. I heartily recommend well flouring the rolling pin and surface you are rolling on, lest you have to shout expletives at the dough when it won't lift off your chopping board. 

Cut the dough into the shapes you want and put them on the baking tray.

Bake the biscuits for 10-15 minutes, or until firm and browned on top. 

Cool them on a rack and try not to eat too many before lunch.

I hope you had a wonderful Spring weekend! Here's to more clear skies and warmer weather ahead.

...

best of british

How was your weekend?

It was amazingly warm here in Sydney so, after washing just about everything in the house, we got out and about for a few good walks around the neighbourhood, where I spotted gorgeous magnolias and fun murals.

And it seems I've become rather affected by the London Olympics, if my weekend baking is any indication. On Saturday I met up with a friend for coffee and cake at a cute little place on Norton Street and once the topic of cornish pasties came up there was no turning back.  They were going to be on the dinner menu one way or another.  My distant British heritage kicked into gear and, after a brief discussion on preferred ingredients including Alissa's recommendation to opt for pastry of the short-crust kind over the puff variety, it was on. I'll admit that I didn't use a recipe because sometimes on a Saturday night after a few glasses of shiraz that's how I roll but there are plenty of good ones out there, like here or here (Delia's pie version).  If you own a copy of Stephanie Alexander's The Cooks Companion you just know there's going to be one in there.

We ate our pasties with lashings of tomato sauce whilst watching the basketball and gymnastics and adding our own enthusiastic commentary to the proceedings. Then on Sunday, needing only the merest slight nudge of a suggestion from Kristian, I went and whipped up a batch of scones and then we ate a few of them somewhat guiltily in front of the marathon.

I have a feeling I'll be doing a lot of walking to work this week to compensate...

...

gingerly

I've long been a fan of ginger. I enjoy it in just about any form - pickled, crystallised, in its beer or ale variety or ground up and baked in cakes. Up until recently I had a pretty cast iron stomach when it came to motion sickness but apparently it's good for that too and for nausea, something patients undergoing chemotherapy can benefit from. That's why I take it to my Dad. Coated in dark chocolate or crystallized, its a small something I can do to help in the face of big uncertainty.

Sometimes when the ground shifts underneath with the disorientation that illness can bring the best path to tread is a familiar one. It requires less cautious navigation and a sense of firmer footing. I think this is why despite owning so many cook books I tend to turn to the same few again and again:
Homecooked: Favourite recipes from Australian kitchens
The Australian Women's Weekly Classic Cakes
A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg
Leftover Makeovers by Sally Wise

Reading and cooking from these books is like meeting up with old friends. They might not be the most gourmet or fancy of tomes but there's something in each of them that speaks to me when I wander into the kitchen and think about turning on the oven and creating something comforting or nourishing.

Writing this now I just realised, they were all given to me as gifts (by a former boss, a childhood friend, Kristian and his sister respectively) which makes them even more special.

In search of the reassurance that familiar things can bring, I thought for this month's cooking club challenge - a dish from your current favourite recipe book - what better than ginger cake from a well loved cake book.

Ginger Cake with Caramel Icing
Adapted from The Australian Women's Weekly Classic Cakes

1 1/2 cups brown sugar
1 1/2 cups plain flour
1 1/2 cups self-raising wholemeal flour
1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 Tbs ground ginger
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground nutmeg
250g butter, softened
2 eggs
1 cup buttermilk (or half a cup yogurt, half a cup milk)
1/2 cup golden syrup

Caramel icing
60g butter
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 Tbs milk
3/4 cup icing sugar

Preheat your oven to 170 degrees C or 160 degrees C fan-forced and grease a square cake tin.

Sift the dry ingredients into a large bowl. Add in all your remaining ingredients and beat with an electric mixer or wooden spoon until well combined. If using a mixer, crank up the speed and beat the mixture for an additional few minutes or until it is smooth and pale.

Pour the mixture into your pan and bake for approximately 1 1/4 hours. Stand the cake in your pan for about ten minutes and then cool on a rack.

Meanwhile make your caramel icing by stirring butter, brown sugar and milk in a small saucepan over medium heat until the sugar dissolves. Bring to the boil and simmer stirring for 2 minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in sifted icing sugar. Spread over the cooled cake and cut into slices or squares. Share with loved ones.

To see what wonderful things the other cooking club members cooked up this month, check out the links below:
Lucent Imagery (cooking club host)
Down by the Sea
Anything Squirrel Squirrel
Chi Garden
Under Lock and Key  

...

dancing with cake

A few weeks ago I put on a leotard, tights and shoes and fronted up to the first ballet class I've been to since I was a teenager. I was nervous as hell but to my surprise and delight I actually enjoyed myself. I was not the most uncoordinated person there nor the tallest, oldest or curviest (all worries I had entertained beforehand) and I was surprised to find that I still remembered some of the moves and dance step names, including the tasty sounding fondu which, rather aptly, describes a lowering of the body by bending the knee of the supporting leg and sliding the other leg along the floor.

There is something to be said for seeing your body in figure hugging gear in a massive mirror a few times a week and I have been a bit more conscious of eating my greens and standing up straight since starting the classes... but I have to admit that I crumbled last week and ate a rather large amount of carrot cake. Lydia, my whippet thin ballet teacher, would not be thrilled.

I haven't eaten or made carrot cake in a really long time, not as long as I haven't done ballet, but still quite a while. Carrot cake seems like one of those overlooked classic cakes, not as popular as chocolate, not as straightforward as lemon or banana, and much like with ballet I can't remember why I personally left it so long in between takes.

So last Saturday afternoon, tired after doing hilariously bad pirouettes all morning and feeling like baking something, I realised I had a few carrots in the fridge and the idea was born. The marvellous thing was that I even had a good reason to bake as we were having Kristian's sister, brother-in-law and niece over for lunch the following day.

Unlike say a plié or a rond de jambe, you can bend the rules a bit when it comes to making carrot cake - there is no right way to do it. By which I mean that if you want to add sultanas or walnuts or leave nuts out entirely go right on ahead. It's your cake after all. I went with the sultanas no nuts option for mine to make it niece friendly.

Carrot Cake
Adapted from Women's Weekly Classic Cakes

For the cake
olive oil, to grease
3 medium carrots, grated
1/2 cup sultanas
1 cup wholemeal self-raising flour
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup vegetable or safflower oil
1/2 cup golden syrup
3 eggs
1 tsp vanilla essence

For the icing
175g cream cheese, softened
100g butter, softened
2 teaspoons lemon juice
1 cup icing sugar, sifted

Preheat the oven to 170°C and grease well a 20cm round cake.
Peel and grate the carrots and set aside.

In a large bowl sift the flour, bicarbonate of soda and cinnamon. In a separate bowl combine the brown sugar, oil, golden syrup, eggs and vanilla in a medium bowl and whisk until combined.

Pour the wet mixture into the dry ingredients and stir with a wooden spoon until just combined. Stir through the grated carrot and sultanas.

Pour the mixture into your pan and bake for 1 hour. It should be looking nice and brown on top and a skewer should come out relatively clean. Set aside for 5 minutes, before turning out onto a wire rack to cool completely.

To make the icing, place the softened cream cheese, butter, icing sugar and lemon juice in a bowl. Use a wooden spoon to mix until well combined. Spread the icing over the cool cake. Cut into generous wedges and serve to your guests with a hearty cup of tea.

Kristian's little niece burnt off her cake running up and down our stairs all afternoon having a wonderful time. As for me, I think I'll be doing some more penance at the barre.

...

this has been the week

A few pictures from a walk I took this week during a brief patch of sunshine. The glimpse I had of the pair of birds flying high above reminded me in a very small way of this wondrous video. It's been a little bit of an emotional rollercoaster of a week, featuring worry of almost ridiculous proportions (the picture of the graffiti seemed to sum up my general sense of indecision) but I'm feeling a lot better this sunny Friday and looking forward to lots of good things: my Dad hopefully coming home from hospital on the weekend, catching up with friends, a party, cooking up a storm and some other new ventures.

During a brief flurry of activity one afternoon I even made some nice cornflake biscuits, which I'm keen to make some more of - this time perhaps with cranberries or sultanas, although with Anzac Day coming up next week I'm sure I'll be making some of those biscuits too.

Afternoon Biscuits (with cornflakes)  

Adapted from Homecooked 

¾ cup plain flour

½ cup cornflakes

1 cup rolled oats

¼ cup desiccated coconut

¾ cup honey

75g butter

75g applesauce

1 tsp bicarbonate of soda

2 Tbs water

Preheat oven to 180°C and grease a large baking tray. 

Combine the dry ingredients in a bowl and set aside. In a small saucepan combine the butter, applesauce, honey and water over medium heat until the butter has melted and the ingredients are all combined. Then stir in the bicarbonate of soda. It will froth up. Don’t be alarmed.  

Pour the foamy mixture into the dry ingredients and stir until combined. The mixture should be firmish but still a touch tacky. If it's looking too firm add a small amount of water, if too tacky - a small amount of flour. Place spoonfuls of the mixture onto the baking trays and press with a fork to flatten slightly. Bake for 12-15 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on a wire rack before consuming all in one go, as we did.

Wishing you a lovely sunshiney weekend!

...

seasonal delights

So I somehow managed to enter the festive season with one doozy of a two week long headcold (a summer cold of all things, although this summer so far has been rather disappointing on the warmth front to say the least!) But, as of now, I am putting sniffles and weather complaints on the backburner, dosing up on vitamins and determined to get excited about the holidays and the delicious anticipation of baking, catching up with friends and general all round festive cheer.

So I plan to get cracking on in the next few weeks about Christmas snackery, foodie gifts, side dishes and other seasonal delights.

Firstly, let's talk fruit mince tarts. Something I haven't made since we visited Japan a few Decembers ago and I suddenly started channelling Delia Smith in a big way. This time though, I did them the cheat's way, which is to say the easy far less time-consuming and curse-inducing way.  I referred to this inspiring post on jam tarts for the pastry and... (here's where I whisper a little bit) then filled them with Robertson's fruit mince filling (from a jar!).  No pastry lids, no fuss, just pure wanton deliciousness. Hence why there are no photos...

Anyway, whilst we're on the subject, can I also tell you that the aforementioned fruit mince filling goes alarmingly well stirred through plain yogurt.  I mentioned this to Kristian the other day and his excited, wide-eyed response was: "What about if you stirred it through ice-cream with broken up pieces of shortbread?" This particular pimped up variation might be a good one to try in the post-xmas haze when you stumble upon some left-over tarts in the fridge and think, How could we disguise these into a new and rather marvellous dessert? Yup, we're a sweet-tooth household we are!

But as all good sweet-tooths know there is a cure and it is cheese. The other day I arrived home after an epic session at Harris Farm to discover I had bought five different kinds of cheese. I was a little excited and decided to have another crack at parmesan biscuits.

I first tried making these a few months ago and I was so disappointed by the result (I basically ended up with a tray-sized flat mess of buttery-cheesey gloop) that I was a little gun-shy. Empowered by my army of cheese and several conversations at work on the subject, I decided to have another crack.

Parmesan Biscuits
Adapted from this recipe

125g salted butter
250g plain flour
80g grated parmesan
1 egg
pinch salt
1 tsp sweet paprika

Rub together the butter and flour, salt and paprika then mix through the parmesan and egg. The mixture should come together to form a dryish dough. Add a little water if needed to bind it all together.  Form the dough into a thin sausage about the diameter of a 50c piece and rest in the refrigerator for at least an hour. This bit is especially important and I think where I went wrong the first time I made these biscuits. The colder the dough is when it goes into the oven the better. There will be less spreadage, which is a good thing.

Preheat the oven to 180C then cut the dough sausage into coins 3-4mm thick and place on a baking tray.

Cook for 10-12 minutes until golden then rest the biscuits on a rack to cool and harden up a bit. They are great on their own but also go rather well with quince paste and seedless red grapes, which are absolutely smashing at the moment! Red fruit and festivity ahoy.

...

hey bagel

This was bagel Sunday. After a week of dreaming about them, and gazing wistfully at photos of them on my pinterest board, I finally succumbed this weekend just gone and made bagels - one of the dough wonders I had yet to try at home.

With their crisp outers and chewy interiors, it was far too easy to eat two in quick succession and then I rested, hands on satisfied belly and thought - why have I not made these before?

These beauties are not hard to make but they do take a little bit of time and preparation so they're perfect for a weekend when you're pottering around at home. You can do some prep work and then make yourself a cup of tea, do some more steps, then relax with a good movie (may I suggest The American or Submarine - two very good films I saw on the weekend).
 
Bagels
Adapted from Peter Reinhardt via The Wednesday Chef
Makes 6 to 8 bagels

3 1/2 cups all-purpose plain flour
3 teaspoons salt, divided
3/4 teaspoon instant yeast
1 tablespoon honey
1 cup warm water plus 2 tablespoons extra water
1 teaspoon baking soda
Poppy or sesame seeds

Firstly, dissolve the yeast together with the honey in the warm water and let rest for a few minutes. Then mix together the flour, 2 teaspoons salt, the yeast/honey/water mixture until the ingredients form a stiff ball of dough (adding a little extra water if necessary), then let it rest for a few minutes.

Knead the dough on a lightly floured surface for a few minutes until it feels more pliable and smooth.

Put the dough in a lightly greased bowl, cover in cling wrap and refrigerate for at least one hour and up to several hours.

Line a baking tray with parchment paper and remove your dough from the fridge.  Divide the dough into 8 equal pieces (I just flattened the dough out and cut it like a cake into quarters and then eighths) and form each piece into a round ball by rolling it on a clean, dry surface. Now roll each dough ball into a long, sausage shape about 20cm in length. Pinch the ends together to form the round bagel shape, using a slight dab of water to get the ends to stick if necessary. You can then squeeze the bagel to even out the thickness although the unevenness gives a bit more of a rustic feel, if you ask me.  Now pop your bagels onto the prepared tray, cover with cling wrap and refrigerate overnight.

Here's where you can pop in a movie and settle in for a relaxing night, knowing you'll be having fresh bagels for breakfast.

In the morning, take the bagels out of the fridge about 30 minutes before you plan to bake them. Fill a large pot with water, cover and bring to the boil. Once the water has boiled, add 1 teaspoon of salt and one teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda and reduce the heat to a simmer. Meanwhile, put the oven on and heat to 220 degrees centigrade.

Test the bagels by placing one in a bowl of cold water. You want it to float to the surface. If it doesn't, let them sit for 10 minutes and try again. Once your bagel floats, you're ready to roll.

Gently ease each bagel into the simmering water, adding as many as will fit comfortably without overcrowding. Poach for 1 minute and then turn the bagels over with a wooden spoon. Leave them in for another minute then, using a slotted spoon, remove the bagels and return to the lined baking tray.  Sprinkle your bagels with poppy seeds or sesame seeds or nothing if you prefer then pop your baking trays in the oven for 8 minutes.

After 8 minutes has elapsed, rotate the sheets and continue baking for another 8-10 minutes, until the bagels are golden brown. Around this time the most wondrous bready smell will begin to permeate the house. Get your lox and cream cheese ready. Remove the trays from the oven and transfer the bagels to a rack for at least 30 minutes before serving. And oh the joys of serving and smothering in butter or cream cheese, or lox or marmalade or whatever really.

...
  

a regular sight

This has become a regular sight lately.

Making dough for pizza is such a lovely, quiet and meditative practice and it's easy to boot. I feel like it really started in earnest for me with the zucchini, honey and chevre pizza a year or so ago and it's just kept on going. 

These days, it’s pizza at least once a month, if not more. If you have an hour or so up your sleeve on a Sunday afternoon homemade pizza is pretty hard to top. Although, add to that some Wes Anderson and you may be nearing a perfect day.

...

golden

This afternoon, I was sitting in my study feeling the temperature dropping and becoming more and more hunched over and cold when I decided there was nothing for it but to run my hands under warm water for a few seconds (works wonders) and put the oven on. It was also afternoon tea time and since I've only got a few more days off before starting a new job I thought I should take the opportunity to get baking mid-afternoon, whilst I still can.

We are getting low on ingredients of all kinds in our house at the moment, but we did have some pumpkin and I had an idea. I love putting pumpkin into sweet things, being a little bit sweet itself, it adds a richness to the mix and such a golden yellowy hue. I've been enjoying the autumn colours so much lately, it feels like a visual pay off for weathering the colder temperatures. Similarly with food, there's something about eating colourful, especially golden, ingredients - it feels like you're ingesting light and warmth.

Pumpkin and ginger muffins
Adapted from this recipe
Makes 12

200g plain flour
100g wholemeal flour
75g brown sugar
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp ground cloves
1 Tbsp ground ginger
pinch of salt
1 lightly beaten egg
120g pureed pumpkin
dollop of honey
75ml skim milk
40ml sunflower oil
3 Tbsp chopped crystallized ginger

Preheat the oven to 175C or 350F. Line a muffin tin with baking cases.

Chop and steam the pumpkin and then puree.

In a medium bowl, combine the dry ingredients with a spoon.

In a large bowl, beat the egg, pureed cooked pumpkin, milk, oil and honey until well combined. Add the dry ingredients to the pumpkin mixture and fold together, adding the crystallized ginger in at the end, being careful to avoid over-mixing.

Spoon the mixture into the baking cases and bake for 20 minutes. Remove muffin tin from the oven and leave to cool for a few minutes. Take out the muffins and cool on a rack.

Now, here's the enjoyable bit. Make yourself a cup of tea, or a coffee could be rather good too, and find a patch of afternoon sun to sit in whilst you eat enough muffins to feel like you're glowing from the inside.

Have a happy and warm weekend!

...

wedding watch, with scones

I have lots of stories and recipes to share from our weekend away in the country - rolling hills, log fires, giant parsnips, farmers' markets, a dog called Tuppence and so much more - but first there is the little matter of a wedding, a royally good excuse to indulge in some of my favourite things.

The idea first occurred when we were sitting with our friend Sophie in a café in Leura and they'd run out of scones. Within seconds the word 'scones' had morphed in my mind into a full-blown marriage watching menu of favourites - English muffins, Pimms, Gin and Tonics, cider, sausages, baked beans, bread and butter pudding, scones of course (a little drinks and desserts heavy but it is a celebration after all.) I knew it was naff but I was excited nonetheless. As it happens, there were a few opportunities to practice my scones and more than one afternoon tea before the big event so, of course, the minute we crossed the home threshold, I headed straight for the kitchen.

When I think about afternoon tea I seem to channel the influence of my rather distant British ancestry. At around 3pm, I feel there should be hot, strong tea, freshly baked scones with cream and some sort of jam or marmalade and possibly a slice of a nice ginger cake or something similar as well. I think we may be starting early on the big day....

Scones with Jam and Cream
Adapted from Stephanie Alexander's The Cooks Companion

500g self-raising flour
2 tsp baking powder
100g butter
300ml milk, soured with a squeeze of lemon
extra plain milk to glaze
your favourite jam
1 cup cream

Heat oven to 220C then grease and flour a baking tray.

Put the flour, baking powder and chopped butter in bowl of a food processor and pulse until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs. Another more hands-on method is to grate the cold butter into the flour mixture and then rub into the flour with your fingertips. This is my rustic, farm kitchen approach, mainly because - are you ready for it? - we don't own a food processor. Yup, it's all good arm muscle action for me, which to be honest with you I kind of like - you feel more connected to the process of baking when you are elbow deep in flour.

After your dry mix is looking suitably crumbly, add the milk, mix together quickly to form a dough and pat into a round or rectangle about 3cm thick on a floured breadboard. It might be quite sticky at this point but don't worry, just generously coat with flour and knock it all together. Cut into rounds or squares and put close together on the prepared tray.

Brush tops with a little milk and then bake for about 12-15 minutes. Meanwhile, beat the cream until soft peaks form. Cover and store in the fridge until needed. Remove scones from the oven and allow to cool slightly on a wire rack.

Serve the scones whilst still warm with lashings of jam and cream and nice hot cup of tea, or perhaps some Pimms, depending on the occasion. I think the royal union may call for at least one or two genteel cups of Pimms, don't you?

...

saving the day with cornbread

The weekend was a Sydney classic - sunny on Saturday, showers on Sunday - a perfect balance for breakfasting out, wandering around yard sales (where I snapped up a few cute, glass bottles), baking and then consuming baked goods on the couch with some DVDs. K was horrified to discover that I had somehow made it through my childhood without seeing Back to the Future (great scott indeed!) so all three discs were whipped out and the 80s reminiscing kicked off in earnest.

And what to eat whilst watching Michael J Fox continually save the day? Well, popcorn aside, the cooler weather on Sunday seemed like the perfect excuse to make a hearty, comforting classic - cornbread. The last and to be honest, first time I had cornbread was on New Years Eve in Japan a few years ago made by our friend's boyfriend, an American sailor. I had never had anything quite like it - essentially savoury but with an intoxicating hint of sweetness. Perfect for a mid-afternoon feast.

Cornbread Muffins
Adapted from this recipe

1/2 cup polenta
1 1/2 cup plain flour (I used half wholemeal)
1 Tbs baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup cheddar cheese, grated, reserve a small amount
1 Tbs brown sugar/ treacle
1 Tbs butter, melted
2 eggs, lightly beaten
3/4 cup milk

Preheat the oven to 200C and line a 12 cup muffin tray with muffin cases.

Combine the polenta with sifted flour, baking powder, salt and cheese. In a separate bowl, mix together the eggs, melted butter, treacle and milk and then combine it all in with the dry ingredients. Spoon the mixture into the muffin cases and top with some of the reserved cheese. Bake for about 15 minutes or until golden. Best eaten warm and with your favourite childhood movie. Next stop Willow or The Princess Bride! 
...

on cake and hummingbirds

This week has flown by and yet I can't really remember what I've done. So, I'm choosing instead to reflect on last weekend because it was rather nice.

On Saturday we headed down to the Pyrmont Farmers' Markets, sampled the wares and bought some fun vegies to inspire myself to make something healthy. What I did end up making though was a cake for my Dad's birthday on Sunday - one of my all-time favourites from when I was a kid - Hummingbird Cake. We used to visit a cafe called Trader Nick's when we were on holidays and they would serve great, dense, delicious wedges of this cake. I had never encountered it before then and was captivated. Recently, a friend told me she'd made it for her husband and almost instantly my tastebuds ignited with long-lost memories. So, I decided for Dad's surprise cake I'd revisit an old favourite.  I'm not quite sure where the name comes from but it may have something to do with the sweetness of the pineapple and banana.

Just on the subject of Hummingbirds, I'd be curious to know if you have ever seen one and if so, where? I have a distinct memory of having seen one fluttering around a flower box out of a hotel window in Italy.  I mentioned this at an English tutorial many moons ago (we were studying scientific writings by the likes of Charles Darwin) and the Professor dismissed it as geographically impossible.

Still, regardless of the geographical inclinations of hummingbirds, the cake named after them can be enjoyed anywhere. So without further ado, let's get to it eh?

Hummingbird Cake with Cream Cheese Icing
Adapted from the reliably good Women's Weekly Classic Cakes

450g can crushed pineapple in syrup
1 cup plain flour
1/2 cup self-raising flour
1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup desiccated coconut (I left this out due to family allergies but it does add a certain something to the mix)
1 cup mashed banana
2 eggs, beaten lightly
3/4 cup vegetable oil

For the frosting
30g butter, softened
60g cream cheese, softened
a nice big squeeze of lemon
1 1/2 cups of confectioner's sugar

Preheat oven to 160C fan-forced and grease and line a round cake pan.

Drain the pineapple over a small bowl and reserve 1/4 cup of the syrup.

Sift the flours, soda, spices and sugar into a large bowl and then stir in the drained pineapple, reserved syrup, coconut, banana, egg and oil, until all mixed in well.

Pour the mixture into your pan and bake for 40 minutes - 1 hour, or until a skewer inserted into the middle of the cake comes out clean. Stand in the pan for 5 minutes and then turn out onto a wire rack to cool.

For the frosting, beat the butter, cream cheese and icing together in a medium bowl, gradually adding in the lemon until a desired consistency is reached. Then slather frosting over the cooled cake. Slice up a decent wedge and enjoy with a cup of tea or, as we did, with some Tokay that my Dad had brought back from a recent trip to the wine country. Happy Birthday Dad!

...

in anticipation of citrus

The women in my family have an interesting relationship with marmalade. My grandmother loved it, I love it, my mother can't stand the stuff. Her condiment of choice is apricot jam which, as it happens, I don't mind either. But my first love is marmalade and when it's cold and rainy out or I'm having a bad day and having a flashback to being 10 and ardently not wanting to go to ballet class (this can sometimes happen when it rains a lot for some reason), it's marmalade on toast (with occasional cheese involvement) that I turn to. The ultimate comfort food.

That's why when I heard about a cake incorporating whole oranges, I almost gasped in excitement. It was marmalade in cake form. I was already tasting the saturated citrus flavours in anticipation. And so, when our friend came over on Friday night, I had the perfect excuse to make it. 

This cake makes a great dessert, with its moist and dense texture, resembling that of a baked cheesecake, but I think it truly shines as a mid-morning tea accompaniment - a small slice to go with a strong cup of Earl Grey and perhaps an Austen or a Brontë.

Whole Orange Cake with Yoghurt Topping

Adapted from The British Larder

For the cake
2 whole fresh oranges
100ml of the cooking water from the oranges
6 whole free range eggs
250g unrefined caster sugar
100g plain flour
200g ground almonds
1tsp baking powder

For the yoghurt topping
2 Tbs natural yoghurt
3/4 cup confectioners sugar
 zest of one orange

Wash the oranges; place them in a saucepan and cover with cold water. Bring the oranges to the boil and simmer for approximately 1 ½ hours, until completely soft. Let the oranges cool completely in the cooking liquid.

Preheat the oven to 150°C, grease and line a 9-inch round springform pan with baking paper. Place the boiled oranges (skin and all) in a food processor with 100ml of the cooking liquid and puree till a very smooth. Transfer the orange puree to a large mixing bowl, add the eggs and sugar and mix well. Fold the ground almonds into the batter. Sieve the flour and baking powder over the batter and fold the flour in with a metal spoon. The cake batter will be very runny.

Spoon the cake mixture in to the prepared tin, place on the middle shelf of the preheated oven and bake for 1 hour, or until a metal skewer inserted into the centre of the cake comes out clean.

Let the cake cool for 15 minutes, then turn out onto a cooling rack and cool completely.  For the topping, combine the yoghurt with the confectioners sugar and spoon over a generous slice of cake and garnish with orange zest. 

And another thing, this cake improves with time. Day 2 or 3 is a real treat.