Another Slice of Rainbow

A long, long time ago when M was only four, I baked a rainbow cake for her birthday. Even though she is now all growed up and turned a humongous seven years old yesterday, she still remembers her last slice of rainbow.

“I have to take a cake into school for my birthday on Wednesday,” she told me as we walked in the shade of the Roman city walls on Monday afternoon.

“And it has to be a rainbow cake.”

Sometimes, it’s best not to question dreams too closely …

Chocolate Covered Brownie Bites

June is a big birthday month in our family. First, there’s my Nan’s birthday on the 13th. She was 95 years old yesterday. Then, there’s my Mum’s birthday today. I won’t risk telling you how old she is, but it’s another ‘something-5’ milestone this year. She says she’s 21-and-a-bit, so let’s just go with that for the sake of family harmony.

Next week on the 20th, we’ll be celebrating M’s 7th birthday. I say ‘we’, but the truth is that M is busying herself with the job of celebrating her birthday already and has become an excitable bundle of cheeky high spirits in anticipation of the day itself.

As if that wasn’t enough, we also have to fit in a Father’s day celebration for my Dad (aka Grandpa) and O (aka Dad) at the weekend. Our kitchen table inevitably begins to resemble something from Santa’s workshop at about this point in the proceedings – wrapping paper, sellotape, scissors, card, colouring pencils …

Now that T has learned to write his name neatly and with all the letters facing the right direction (most of the time), there’s an even ‘bitterer’ fight over who addresses each envelope and signs their name first on each birthday card. Naturally, the winner gets the best spot right in the middle where their name is instantly noticed and appreciated by the recipient, whilst the loser’s name is relegated to a tiny leftover bit of space in the bottom corner. O and I are usually the losers.

Birthdays are also synonymous with baking in our family. My children feverishly discuss grand designs for their own birthday cakes (I’ve hidden my Debbie Brown book of so-called easy party cakes to avoid overstimulating them during this risky process) and we all get together in the kitchen to cook up some treats as gifts for Granny and Nan. This year, I decided to try out something that I’ve been considering baking for a while – namely, chocolate covered brownie bites.

They’re very simple. Just bake a batch of your favourite chocolate brownies (minus any nuts or other gubbins you usually throw in), let them cool and then crumble them all up into little pieces. Children are good at doing this.

Next, scoop up a bunch of the crumbs, pinch them together and roll them into a ball between the palms of your hands. Children are good at doing this, too. Adults who have many years’ experience of gathering up scratty offcuts of playdough will probably also be at an advantage.

Finally, melt some of your favourite dark chocolate in a bowl. Use a couple of forks to dip each ball into the bowl and cover it entirely with the melted chocolate. Place the chocolate-covered brownie bites on a tray lined with baking parchment until the chocolate hardens. All the messy bits of chocolate can be cut away from the bites with a sharp knife once the chocolate has set.

I took a box of these brownie bites for my Mum to our tap dancing class this morning (don’t laugh – at the idea of me tap dancing, I mean) and they didn’t hang around for very long. I also hid a slice of uncrumbled brownie in a small tin for my Mum to enjoy on her own later …

Recipe for a Diamond Jubilee

Take one Queen …

… and a splash of rain.

Leave to mature for 60 years …

… before stirring in a fresh glug of seasonal rain …

… and a generous spread of celebratory home baking.

Pack all the ingredients together tightly …

… and bake for 2 to 3 hours until springy and highly excitable.

And if you’ve made it right, you’ll know it …

… because it’s not like anything you’ve made before!

Just Go With The Season

Some things are my fault; others aren’t. I think rain comes into the latter category but it’s hard to be sure. I hope that the Queen can forgive me if my Lemon Almond Sundrops have inadvertently jinxed the weather for her Diamond Jubilee celebrations …

Today’s rain has come as a reflection of my own unseasonal cravings for deeply rich plum chutney and dark treacle toffee brownies this week. But perhaps it has also come as more than this. It would be easier for me to pretend that my kitchen has remained resolutely cheerful and sunny in the face of such an unsporting downpour however, that my children and I have whipped up storms of cream cheese frosting and hung the festive bunting from every muffin top and trifle – for telling you about the chutney and the brownies is also to tell a little of my own raincloud. Perhaps today’s rain has inched me towards this.

You see, my jar of plum chutney is a necessity. I know it’s not autumn and that we’ve barely made headway into the summer season of fresh plum tarts and salads. I know I should be embarrassed about posting a recipe for chutney in June. It’s just that … well … my jar of plum chutney has become a talisman of sorts in my painful daily battle against my ongoing anorexic voice – the internal voice that accompanies me everywhere, seeking to lock me in an eating disordered world. I developed my own recipe for this chutney, I chopped and stirred and boiled it, I tasted it, I potted it, and now it sits there in my fridge with ‘Eat Me!’ written all over it. And I do – eat it, I mean. It’s good.

But if I tell you this about my plum chutney, I also dare to show you a little bit more of my reality. The real person, the true ‘me’ that hides behind whatever face a blog is able to provide. If I share my plum chutney recipe with you now, in June, then I’m admitting my vulnerability. Being open is to be vulnerable – if I let you know me, I risk letting you reject me. And hurt me – the real me, that is. The one that feels the plugs in the heart. I have lashing rains of doubt and self-loathing already. I don’t want to encounter yet more.

And if I talk about these sinfully dark, sticky treacle toffee brownies I created, then the face will disappear. It’s just me there instead. I’ll tell you how treacle toffee reaches right back into my childhood, how it’s a taste that is at once both bitter and restorative. These brownies have tears folded inside them. But … “Jeez, Kate – it’s summer!” you’ll say. “Save them for the cold evenings of bonfires and frosts. Give us some meringues, some tipsy trifles, some cucumber sandwiches. There’s a party on, you know!”

You’ll be right though. There is a party on after all – and I didn’t set out to be a damp squib. Rain might have stopped play for a while but it’s brightening up now and there’ll still be time for a few overs before tea.

Just don’t mind me if I sit here on the sidelines with my pot of plum chutney and plate of treacle toffee brownies for a bit longer. Perhaps someone might like to join me – there’s plenty to share.

Ploughmans Plum Chutney

5 oz caster sugar
75 ml white wine vinegar
25 ml malt vinegar
3 large plums, stoned and diced
1 apple, peeled, cored and diced
1 1/2 oz sultanas
1/4 tsp salt

For the spice bag
1 star anise
1/4 oz fresh, peeled ginger
1 large clove garlic
1/2 oz peeled red onion
1/2 tsp black mustard seeds
1/2 tsp black peppercorns

Put the sugar and vinegars in a medium saucepan and heat gently until the sugar has dissolved.

Tie the ingredients for the spice bag in a square of muslin and crush them all up a bit with your fist. Add the spice bag together with the other remaining ingredients to the saucepan.

Bring slowly to the boil, then simmer gently for an hour. Stir regularly so that the syrupy mixture doesn’t stick and burn.

Test for readiness by drawing a wooden spoon through the mixture – it’s thick enough when the chutney parts briefly to reveal the bottom of the pan.

Pot while still warm in a sterilised jar. The chutney will probably improve if left to mature a while, but I haven’t managed to test that theory so far – my jar is empty within a week or so …

Treacle Toffee Brownies

4 oz butter
8 oz dark muscovado sugar
5 oz light muscovado sugar
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla extract
5 oz wholegrain spelt flour
2 oz cocoa powder
3 eggs

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C. Grease and baseline a 9″ x 12″ pan.

Melt the butter, then stir in all the remaining ingredients until thoroughly combined.

Scrape into the pan and smooth. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes until risen but still a little gooey.

Cool completely in the pan before removing and cutting into squares.

Lemon Almond Sundrops

Will the summer sunshine disappear if I comment on it? Or perhaps it’s about to disappear anyway. The weather right now certainly seems too good to be true for all things Jubilee …

But then, as the sun him(her?)self once told Frank O’Hara:

Just keep on
like I do and pay no attention. You’ll
find that people always will complain
about the atmosphere, either too hot
or too cold too bright or too dark, days
too short or too long.
If you don’t appear
at all one day they think you’re lazy
or dead. Just keep right on, I like it.

A sun with attitude.

“Awesome!” as L would say (and she should know, being someone not unfamiliar with the concept of attitude).

I made some little sundrops for the children’s school summer fête last weekend. They didn’t really look chock-a-block full of attitude, but I have to tell you that there was no way they were going to let me dress them in anything other than their natural, feisty golden colours. And when you consider that these could be just about the only sweet celebration treats you’ll find right now that don’t come in various shades of red, white or blue …

Now – that’s attitude for you 😉

Lemon Almond Sundrops

7 oz butter
7 oz caster sugar
4 eggs
zest and juice of 1 lemon
2 tbsp orange flower water
2 oz plain flour
7 oz ground almonds

6 oz icing sugar
1 tbsp lemon juice
2 tbsp water

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C. Grease and baseline a 9″x12″ rectangular baking tray.

Cream butter and sugar, then add eggs gradually. Stir in the lemon zest and juice, and the orange water.

Carefully fold in the flour and ground almonds.

Scrape the batter into the prepared pan and smooth evenly. Bake for 30 minutes until golden and springy. Leave for 5 minutes to cool before turning out onto a wire rack.

Prepare the glaze by mixing together the icing sugar, lemon juice and water.

When the cake is just cool enough to handle, use a circular biscuit cutter to cut out … well, circles really (what else can I say?). I used a diameter of 1 7/8″, which made 24 circles.

Dip the tops of each sundrop in the glaze and return to the wire rack to set. Lick your fingers (because they’ll be very sticky by now).

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