Summat different, a posh table and a predictable twist

Due to a bit of surgical tomfoolery, I've been off the radar for a while. But I'm back and reassured to see that here in blog land almost everything seems to be exactly where I left it.

Well, apart from one of my fave blogs. If you haven't tried out View from the Table, go but be prepared to wipe your feet, or even take your shoes off before entering. It has turned proper fancy whilst I've been away and I think it looks the business. Table, who I have mentioned before and is also known as the Silk Whisperer, has everything you could want from a blog. Food that makes you lick the screen, and booze. Lots of booze. Specially gin. So wash behind your ears, put on a clean vest and head over there pronto. Well, read the rest of this before you go. Stick it through till the end - you won't be sorry, I swear.

Now brace yourselves but there's no cake AGAIN. I wish I could say I was being all rebellious and contrary but no. The surgical jive means I can't bake at the moment. I realise that baking is meant to be all serene but I don't do it like that so I'm giving the Kitchen Aid a wide berth for the next week or so. But man alive, I'm bored. I've been bored for what seems like weeks now, waiting around in hospitals - if I ever have to spend time looking at posters which say things like "Get to know your Pituitary Gland!" again, I will not be held responsible for my actions. Who writes these things? Saatchi and Saatchi must be shaking in their Pradas.

So back on the mend, today, I caught up on my blog reading whilst eating my very fave salad straight out of the bowl with a spoon (I am so common) and decided that I would throw caution to the wind and do a post on the salad. Madness!!

It's not cake but this salad is the dogs. I have a right thing for chickpeas and could eat this every single day, no word of a lie. Give it a go.

You'll need:

Chickpeas - tinned or dried and soaked, I don't care

Red onion
Red chilli(s)
Good cherry tomatoes
Ground Cumin
Ground Coriander
Lemon
Good oil - extra virgin or the like
Feta cheese
Salt
Pepper
Fresh Coriander
Fresh Mint

Then do this:

Heat the chickpeas till they're warm. Drain and chuck in a large bowl and add some lemon juice and oil. Add finely chopped onion(s) and chilli(s), ground coriander and cumin (I like a lot), tomatoes chopped in half and crumbled up Feta. Then shed loads of chopped mint and coriander and the usual salt and pepper. Put more oil and lemon juice in if you like. Leave it as long as you can at room temperature, then eat with a spoon, straight out of the bowl. Or serve on a proper plate like a grown up with a nice bit of chicken perhaps.

I think the reason I don't usually do recipes is glaringly obvious, don't you?

So please forgive the lack of cake, but boredom means that next week, I may give a quick overview on lawnmower maintenance, or hints and tips on mastering the ukulele. Bear with me. I've not been well, you know.

And the predictable twist? Well, the twist bit was a total lie. But with the news that David Beckham is retiring from football to spend more time with his knickers means a cast-iron excuse to revisit some of his finest moments.

Thoughts on David Bowie Is (and shed all cake)

The thing I like best about having a blog is the power. I mean, in every other area of life and work, there's certain rules to be obeyed or considered. Not with a blog. It's mine, all mine I tell you (cue deranged manic laughter) so I can do what I like with it. So, if you’re here for the cake, there is shed all today.

I may have hinted in the past to my deep devotion to David Bowie specifically the one(s) in the seventies. Let's face it, this blog all but wears a tank top and brandishes its clackers at all who come near. But yesterday, I went to the Bowie exhibition at the V & A and I loved it (predictably) so much I felt compelled to scribble about it.

It may be of interest to those who already share my love and to those who don't, well to quote himself, I'm going to take a foxy kind of stand and witter on regardless.

Apparently, the exhibition takes about an hour to 'do'. It took me double that, perhaps a bit longer. I went round 3 times. Rather than go into the bewildering talent and imagination of Bowie, which everyone knows about, I thought I'd bullet point my thoughts as I circuited round and round, in no particular order:

• I had forgotten how fit he looks in Boys Keep Swinging.

• I still like him better before he had his teeth done.

• The clips of him and Mick Ronson swaggering to Starman on Top of the Pops are totally exhilarating to watch. He knows it, Mick knows it and when you watch it, specially on the big screen, you know it. It's just so good. Even now, he looks other-worldly and cocky with it, and rightly so. When you put it into the context of the dark old days of Britain in 1972, my god, it's no surprise he galvanised and inspired a generation, and not only would-be rock stars. And in the context of the early pics of him looking variously like a mix of Tommy Steele and his 1983 "Lets Dance" incarnation (a well coiffured blond goat), the mime artist with Lillian Gish lips and frankly disturbing tights, to his Man Who Sold the World curved ball - the girly hair and man dress on the cover of an album which belies the Led Zep-ish darkness within-  then you see how magically the stars aligned, it all slotted into place and Ziggy landed.

• A long time puzzle for me was solved. I have always wondered what he saw in, and why he married Angie, a woman with all the charm and allure of Kendo Nagasaki. There was a picture of Lindsay Kemp, the guy who taught Bowie his mime moves and had a major (Tom) influence on him. This picture showed Lindsay (not a looker) all dragged up. The spit of old Ange. Puzzle solved.

• He's a tiny man. No, really tiny. The number of original stage costumes they have on show is incredible. But he is not tall and so slight, it's amazing, specially as I've seen him live a few times and it never dawned on me before he was anything but a 6 foot strapper.

• The tailoring of the seventies really does look better on film. For instance, the suit he wore for the Life on Mars promo film (no vids way back then) looks like a vision in crimpolene. Perhaps it's just him and he could make anything look cool. Mind you, I do have a theory here. Properly cool people transcend their decade and the fashions it inflicts. For instance, George Best in full tie-dye t shirt and loons doing his lounge lizard thing in the Twisted Wheel doesn't look daft even now. Bryan Ferry with full on slap in the Eno-phase of Roxy still looks cool. Bowie just didn't put a tiny platformed foot wrong in the seventies. It takes a very special man to rock a leotard.

• I always loved his Berlin albums and they took on a new slant with the moody films on screen and the paintings he did at that time on display. And you have to love him. He's off his thin white face on coke and decides to get himself clean around 1976. So what to do? Go and live in Berlin, the heroin capital of the world, with drug enthusiast Iggy Pop. Genius!

• Duffy and Mick Rock… rock.

• Apart from his peroxide goat phase in the eighties, David Bowie has always had great hair.

• I hated it at the time, but the Tim Machine stuff I heard yesterday, I sort of liked. But this was half way round so perhaps the crush had returned with a vengeance.

• I still can't believe I paid good money to see him on the Glass Spider tour. They played clips of it and it was as bad as I remembered - overblown eighties nonsense. Strangely, still good hair though.

So to sum up, if you like David Bowie, go. The only disappointment you'll feel is there isn't more and they don't let you lick the exhibits.

And if you don't like David Bowie or aren't sure who he is, get his albums and try them on for size. I am totally biased but I'd say stick with seventies Bowie. It was then that he ignored all the rules and when he shone brightest.

Sweet!

Sorry for the delay in posting results of last weeks mystery ingredient cake. I have been a bit pre-occupied with a magical jar. More of that later.

The secret ingredient, which none of my tasters identified, was the humble parsnip.The recipe struck me as unusual and I do love baking something I've never tried before. Grating a parsnip can hardly count as ground breaking I know, but one small step for me...

And the comments:

"Rib sticking - mmm"
"Lovely fruit and nut combination, a little heavy"
"Very nice, moist, full of flavour yum"
"Best ever, love pecans"
"Soo good combination with apple in base - well done :-)"
"Jolly fab"
"A little stodgy - cinammon flavour"
"Lovely, citrusy and pecon or walnut"
"A bit too christmassy"

A mixed bag, I'd say. Shame really as I hoping it would wow them, if only to convince me once and for all that vegetables belong in cake. I know, I know, I should get my head round it once and for all, but I don't think it will ever seem right. I'm sure there is no irony in the fact I get sniffy at parsnips and carrots yet will slap bacon on a cake with barely a second thought. Anyway, it's certainly no match for for that Cappuccino cake.

Speaking of which, I think the Cappuccino cake just got a little bit better. My lovely friend (and Putney Bake Club co-organiser) Steph (@riversidebaking) invited me over for dinner recently and dangled a jar of this heavenly stuff in front of me:

The moment I first tasted it is a moment that will stay with me forever. I've always loved the biscuits but mashed up into a spread is just the work of genius. Steph recently warned of the dangers of eating this straight out of the jar whilst you unpack the shopping. It was no idle warning, believe me.

So arriving at the jams and condiments section of Waitrose with an almost cartoon screech of brakes, I got myself a jar of the crunchy version. If you do nothing else this week, buy a jar. And if you have a cake to make for someone (it was Steph's birthday recently and she made it known she loves coffee cake), make it the Cappuccino one and mix some of the crunchy spread into the coffee mascarpone. I only got to lick some off the spatula so can only imagine the cake heaven you must be in when combined with the sponge.

Steph liked the cake....

Stephanie ‏@Riversidebaking

16h

@SliceofBarnes 5/5 for taste, the depth of flavour is amazing and it's so deliciously moist! David gives 5/5 too :)

As I thank Steph now for this life-changing introduction, so you will thank me.

I am going to commemorate and celebrate my first purchase of this crunchy ambrosia with the aid of a bit of glam rock and an aptly named band:

I just realised the childhood crush I had on Steve Priest (the one with the huge collar) has finally gone. Growth.

Riddle me this... with a little help from Clarks Maple Syrup

Clarks Maple Syrup and Mystery Ingredient Cake

Cast your mind back to last week. Remember that maple syrup bacon cake? I know the Cappuccino cake was foxy but that bacon cake was a real off-the-wall belter.

I've been casting my mind back, which gets more and more difficult for the last month, or week, or even a matter of hours ago (on the tube going to work recently, I tried to remember what clothes I'd put on that morning. Half way up the Kings Road, it got too much and I had to unbutton my coat a bit to see - you can scoff but it'll come to you) but ten, fifteen years ago? Clear as a bell. So, when Clarks sent me their goody box (Clarks are the master syrupeers remember, not the t-bar sandals brigade), it set me thinking to when I had my first taste of maple syrup.

It certainly didn't make an appearance in the Seventies. For me, that decade was mainly Supermousse (eaten straight from the freezer - I wish I'd looked after me teeth), Carnation on tinned fruit, Angel Delight and Birds custard. Confession - still love Birds custard. Proper yellow stuff and none of that Madagascan vanilla jive that wastes a load of egg yolks. Go on, judge me.

The Eighties? Well I don't recall Maple Syrup showing up then either. Mind you, the Eighties stank. I was sporting a vicious perm so the whiff of Pump 'n' Curl, combined with the ever-present Kouros and Poison were enough to blot out anything you were eating. Cheese spread on toast and Merrydown cider sums up that gastronomic decade for me.

So I reckon, it was my first ever trip to America in the early Nineties, specifically New York, when I got my first Maple Syrup hit. I went to a McDonalds just opposite the Empire State Building and the menu there was a world away from what the Stockport Merseyway branch had on offer. Pancakes, bacon, sweet butter and a UHT milk type thimble sized pot of maple syrup. My head nearly exploded with the combo.

Perhaps I was a late starter (When did you have your first try?) but I loved that smokey quality of maple syrup right from the off.


Anyway, I'm digressing again. Back to business. One of the treats Clarks sent me was their Original Maple Syrup. It's blended with carob fruit syrup so it has, and I quote "a low glycemic ingredient that has, gram per gram, 25% less calories than sugar". Well that's all lovely but it smells and tastes fab. So for this weeks cake, and bearing in mind I'd promised Clarks I'd try out their wares, I made a cake with their Original Maple Syrup as the headline act plus a mystery ingredient challenge as the second billing. I know how to have fun. I have to say, my lovely taster scamps were totally rubbish in the last mystery ingredient cake challenge but I've no room to criticise. I can't remember what clothes I've put on. The cake is pictured here for all to see so have a stab at guessing. If you're too busy looking down to see what clothes you've got on though, come here for a group cuddle.

Full reveal, scores and cake details later. If I remember.

Disclaimer: Like last week, Clarks have not promised me a master syrupeer badge or anything for mentioning their stuff. Mind you, if I could put master syrupeer as my occupation on my passport (replacing astronaut), I'd say anything so be warned.

Results are in... Ciao Bella

I did start to wonder if blowing your own trumpet is also a symptom of baking fatigue. I'm normally hyper-critical of anything I bake, but the look and smell of this Cappuccino cake really did win my heart, so much so that I'm including another picture.

Well I can relax. Seems this little minx of a cake bowled over the tasters too so it's not just me.

Comments:

"reminds me of my childhood!"

"move over chocolate-capuccino is here"

"totally perfect!"

"jolly good"

"perfect, lovely coffee taste"

"best yet!"

Comments and scores worth celebrating, I reckon.

Happily, it seems baking fatigue does not cause inconsistency :)

Extreme cakes: Cappuccino...and bacon

Well, what a week that was. I mentioned last week I'd been invited to sell my cakes at the Barnes Duck Race. If it's not a recognised medical condition already, I'd like to submit baking fatigue to the Department of Health. Having never done anything on this scale before, nervous doesn't really cover it. Hours and hours of baking, no feedback, no graphs. But one priceless moment - I sold a slice of my Lemon and Lime Italian breakfast cake to someone who then came back and bought a second slice because she liked it so much. I nearly kissed her. Like Jon Silk said in his guest post the other week, trying something new really is exhilarating and, I would add, totally knackering. I can't wait to do it again.

Anyway I won't bang on about it but one thing surprised me. I've always thought coffee cake is a real marmite thing - love it, hate it, nothing inbetween - but one of the bakes I did was this cappuccino tray bake, just to make up the numbers really. I expected (and hoped because I love coffee cake) to take most of it home. But it was one of the cakes that sold best with carrot cake coming out top.

So this week, I thought I'd try a proper cake version for the tasters to test out my dodgy marmite theory. I have to say that I could have shoved my face right in the cake when I was boxing it up. Man alive, it smelt good, not to mention being quite a looker. But I showed unusual restraint and left it be. But if they don't like it, I'm going to march right down there and have a tantrum in reception. I wonder if a symptom of baking fatigue is a shorter than usual fuse - I'm proper fiesty this week. Or perhaps it's inhaling all that caffeine...

Tell you what else happened. Clarks sent me some of their wares to try out for baking purposes. No, not a pair of brogues. That would be madness. No, this Clarks are master syrupeers. I never knew that was a word but I love it. Anyway, they're a family run business down in Newport and the biggest syrupeers in the UK. I'll do a proper review of the three products they sent me over the next few weeks but, as luck would have it, the arrival of the box of syrupy goodies coincided with my friend, and fellow gin, cake and pig lover, Clarice's birthday. She made me rhubarb gin for my birthday so a bit of lateral thinking was required to try and match such a perfect gift...

Vegetarians look away now.

Eyeing up the bottle of Clarks Canadian No.1 (Medium) Maple Syrup gave me an idea... Bacon cake. I've seen this idea many times on Pinterest and the like, so I decided to have a go. I adapted my normal bundt cake recipe, using light muscovado sugar instead of golden caster sugar, added less yoghurt (I had no buttermilk), and a good 100mls of the amber nectar. For the frosting, I mixed butter, icing sugar and more maple syrup together. And then adorned it with streaky bacon which had been brushed with more maple syrup and baked in the oven for about 20 minutes (I added a bit of this porky goodness to the cake batter too). Clarice was lost for words when I put it before her but I think she was pleased. I have to say, we were a bit scared to try it. But we braced ourselves and had a slice each. It was really nice. No, honest! It tasted like bacon, pancakes and maple syrup but in cake form.

These are comments from the birthday girl plus other tasters who are known to me, so there is no objectivity here:

"That looks like bacon"

"Cake: GOOD, bacon: GOOD, together= AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" 

"Holy Moly!"

"Awright Heston!!"


Disclaimer: The master syrupeers have not greased my palm or pinched me till I squeal to say nice things. I had a taste of the Clarks Maple Syrup and it really is lovely.

Like cakes? Like ducks? Could be your lucky day...

It's difficult to settle back down after my exhilarating adventure into the world of technical stuff last week. I'm also, understandably, finding Jon Silk's searing account of his journey into extreme baking a hard act to follow. I mean, did you see his graphs? I've never had graph envy before. But before we draw a line under the whole blog swapping affair, I feel it only right to illustrate two things that were missing from Jon's post.

I was present at his baking bout and thankfully captured one of his lovely creations before the bleeding disaster. I have, as Jon put it, placed the picture awkwardly in the text so as not to disappoint.

The second illustration is one that I feel the baking world is ready for. Brace yourselves for the Jon Silk Baking Stance.

Terrifying isn't it?

Anyway, as the phone hasn't been ringing off the hook with requests for more incisive, well researched technical articles, it's back to cakes.

The phone did ring once, mind. It was an invitation from the Old Sorting Office Cafe for Slice of Barnes to sell cakes at the Barnes Annual Duck Race. If you're in the area on Saturday, come along, arm yourself with a duck and buy some cake. And if ducks and cake aren't enough to tempt you, my lovely assistant for the day will be none other than Mr Silk - I'm sure if you cross his palm with silver, he'll demonstrate the stance for you in person.

I need to be a bit of a baking machine to get all the cakes ready, so no tasting and rating this week. We'll all return to normal next week but for now I need to get back to the KitchenAid.

As it's the boat race this weekend (and who doesn't love a bit of yacht-rock), and it's Easter (it works - simply replace Peg with Egg), I'll leave you with this.

Happy Easter :)