Tradition

I was icing a batch of biscuit wedding favours last week and pondering the advent of this relatively new trend in Irish weddings. A large cluster of my friends got married, all around the same time, about ten years ago now. It was a frantic cycle of hen parties (restricted to one night thankfully, not the weekend odyssey it has become), clothes shopping, gift shopping and generally enjoying a good ol' knees-up while haemorrhaging money. For all the frills and fun of those weddings, however, there was not a wedding favour in sight (nor were they missed it has to be said). Fast-forward a decade or so and no right-thinking bride would be without them. As I iced the little bride and groom biscuit hearts, I became curious as to how it all began. I confess, I was a bit sniffy about the whole concept. Was this, as I had assumed, simply one more in a long line of trends that make their way from the US to our shores? 

 

A lull in the icing process provided enough time for a spot of research (isn't the internet marvellous?). Much to my surprise, it seems that wedding favours began on this side of the Atlantic, long before the arrival of the white, multi-tiered wedding cake in fact (which is a whole other blog-post). Apparently (the internet is marvellous but not always accurate, so don't quote me on this), a bonbonniere was given to each of the guests at aristocratic weddings in Europe. It was a small trinket box, often highly decorated and filled with sugar cubes or delicate confections. Sugar was a luxury in Europe prior to the 18th century, available to only the most wealthy, so this was bling at its best (think Kim Kardashian and whoever her current beau is). Of course, bling at a wedding is nothing new and neither, as it turns out, are wedding favours! I can now bake and ice my little wedding favours safe in the knowledge that they are no mere trend, but instead hold a well-earned place at the top table of wedding traditions.

Confessions of a baker

I've made much of my love of baking and how I would happily spend every spare moment whipping up a nice cake. Not a word of a lie, I promise you, but I do have a little confession to make. Sunday was World Baking Day and what did I do? I sat in the sunshine (SUN!! I know!), sipping a lovely cold G&T, with not a whisk or a spatula in sight. The lovely cake in the picture was, in fact, made by No. 1 Sister; a delicious gooseberry upside-down cake baked that morning. The berries were the last survivors of her dearly departed allotment, frozen after the final harvest last autumn. It's safe to say that their life's mission is now complete - the tart gooseberries were the perfect partner for the soft sponge with its caramelised topping.

After a really fabulous afternoon soaking up the sun in the back garden, we had a celebratory family dinner (I know I've a bit of mention-itis, with 'sun this' and 'sun that', so apologies to those of you who were stuck with cloudy skies). No.2 Sister had prepared a very tasty lamb tagine with couscous, which, given its Morrocan origins seemed fitting for such a sunny day (oops, there I go again, sorry!). Dessert was also provided by No.2 Sister (No.3 Sister was off-duty as she's studying hard for her exams) and came straight from the pages of the old Hamlyn All-Colour Cookbook. Scandanavian Apple Charlotte was very popular in our house as a special Sunday dessert and every now and again one of us gets a hankering for it. It's like the posh relative of an apple crumble, with layers of stewed apple and a crispy, crumble mixture. It is presented, in all its 1970s glory, in a glass bowl so you can see the layers, topped with whipped cream and then sprinkled with Cadbury's Flake. Oh, but it was good!

So in summary, I got to spend World Baking Day doing nothing more taxing than sitting in the sun and eating fabulous home-made cakes and desserts not made by me. Thank heavens for sisters!

My desert island cake

It's the simple things in life that most often make me happy: a clear, sunny day (rare round these parts!); the smell of freshly cut grass; a walk in the mountains; losing myself in a good book... the list goes on. A day spent with my niece last week made me realise that this 'simplicity is good' mantra can also extend to cakes. She was off school and at a loose end, so was keeping me company. I decided to make a loaf of white soda bread for lunch and after boring her with my top soda-bread-making tips, she asked me what I like baking best. That gave me pause and made me question what I like to bake and why.

Baking to me is magical as much as it is therapeutic, relaxing and satisfying and, to a greater or lesser extent, this is the case no matter what I am making. There is even more satisfaction than usual to be found in the completion of a particularly complex cake and much excitement when trying out a new recipe, while the delicate and intricate work involved in icing biscuits or making tiny confections can occupy me happily for hours.

Ultimately though, when I had talked myself round in circles and named so many different cakes that my niece was slumped at the table with a glazed look in her eyes, the answer came to me. When I think about what I always really love to bake (and more importantly to eat), it was a little iced fairy cake. It might be no coincidence that fairy cakes were the first cakes I ever baked and were present at all of our birthday parties as children. The combination of the pillowy-soft vanilla-scented bun and simple icing sprinkled with crunchy hundreds-and-thousands gets me every time. Not so rich that you can't manage seconds and with an extra helping of nostalgia. So, my desert island cake? You can keep your chocolate ganache tortes and banoffi pies, I'm having a fairy cake!

Could this be love?

Oh dear, I think this could be it and if this is indeed Brownie Love, then it might be time to say goodbye to my waistline. For the first time in my brownie history, I went back for seconds. Granted, the second brownie was consumed the following day and yes, I'm aware that doesn't sound terribly gluttonous. But this is me (notoriously fussy and not a glutton) and we're talking about brownies (previously established as not a favourite). My sister, on the other hand (long established as the family glutton), savaged a second one on the spot.
 

These just seem to hit every note: soft, fudgy brownie, salty/sweet caramel, intense chocolate taste and crunchy salted peanuts. Luscious squares of chocolatey, caramelly, peanutty goodness. As things currently stand, I'm looking forward to a third one over coffee tomorrow (such greed, I hear you say!). If this isn't love, then at the very least, this is a serious case of Brownie Infatuation. I'm smitten! I might just have found my perfect brownie. Could there be anything better than this?

Bank Holiday Brownies

Choc & cream cheese brownies

Is there anything nicer than the prospect of a long weekend stretching out ahead of you? I will finally have the time to try out some salted peanut, caramel and chocolate brownies, inspired by a recipe that I spotted on Food Network UK a couple of weeks ago. Full disclosure Ladies and Gentlemen: I'm not a huge fan of the brownie. I love cake, I love chocolate, but brownies? Meh! Not so much. Stubborn as I am, I have refused to admit defeat and have long been searching for the perfect brownie recipe. A yummy chocolate and cream cheese brownie by the French patissier Eric Lanlard has come close and now holds a firm place in my repetoire.

 

And yet, as delicious as these are, I feel I have more love to give, if only I could find that perfect brownie. Lady Readers, think of the eternal hunt for that perfect bag or those perfect shoes that you know simply MUST exist. Gentlemen, I refer you to Frodo's struggle to get the ring to Mount Doom - my brownie quest has been no less arduous. (Apologies for the stereotyping - I myself am a lady and also a life-long Tolkien fan, but I didn't feel the boys would get on board with the shoes and bag metaphor). Anyway, I digress. Back to the matter at hand: Is the salted peanut, caramel and chocolate brownie The One? Come the end of this weekend, I will have my answer, but if the peanut/caramel combo fails me, all suggestions for the Perfect Brownie Quest, Part II will be gratefully received!