Baking mishaps and cake disasters

Chocolate Fudge Cake

I've always thought that everyone should know how to bake, or at the very least, should give it a go (and the gratuitous photos of yummy cakes posted here today are to encourage you to pick up that whisk). It's such a rewarding activity and, unless you're a contestant on Masterchef or taking part in the horrifying Come Dine With Me, there's really no need to make anything complicated or to find yourself all stressed out. In fact, that's one of the great joys of baking. No matter what you decide to bake, whether it's a simple scone or a decadent chocolate layer cake, you will feel just as happy with the end result. Your kitchen will smell fabulous as it bakes and once it has emerged from the oven and cooled sufficiently, there's the satisfaction of eating something you made yourself. Not to mention, of course, that the taste of a home-made cake is second to none.

So many people I speak to are either terrified of or overwhelmed by the thought of baking, convinced that making a cake successfully from scratch requires great skill, natural talent and possibly even an element of magic. Really all you need are some basic techniques (easily learned and mastered with practice) and a good recipe that you promise to follow to the letter. Unlike savoury cooking - which can be quite forgiving if you leave something out, get your quantities wrong or cook it for too long - baking is an exact science. As such, you must follow the recipe, using the exact ingredients listed, in the amounts given and the method prescribed and, as a rule, the result will be a lovely cake. With enough experience and knowledge it is possible to alter recipes and adjust ingredients, but for a novice or for the nervous, just following the recipe should get you there.

Coffee & Walnut Cake

For those of you gnashing your teeth as you read this, thinking 'But I did and it still didn't work!', I will admit that some recipes are more foolproof than others. Bad copy editing has a lot to answer for, though sometimes, the problem is that the author assumes a certain level of knowledge or experience on the part of the reader or they just don't think to spell out every step in the process. One American book I bought was a nightmare, riddled with errors - I tried twice to bake the 'Hot Milk Sponge Cake' and was left with a sadly droopy sponge each time. A spot of googling revealed that it wasn't just me - other bakers had tried and failed this and other recipes from the book (it's called 'Miette' - don't be fooled by its very pretty cover and design, it will lead you astray).

So don't despair, it may not be your fault that your cake didn't turn out right. Find a reliable recipe and give baking another go! If I had to recommend somewhere to begin, I would point you towards Delia Smith or Mary Berry. Nigella's recipes are always fabulous and have never let me down but according to Sister No.3 (who bakes less than the rest of us), they can be a little slap-dash in the instruction department. That being said, even with the most reliable, tried-and-tested recipe and years of experience, cake disasters do occur. Lest you think that there are no cake skeletons hiding in my closet, here are some I made earlier...

There was the time I forgot to put the flour in the chocolate and peanut-butter cookies - flour is a crucial binding ingredient, giving cakes and biscuits structure, so it's no surprise that the result was a molten mess of butter, sugar, peanut-butter and chocolate on the tray when it came out of the oven. Another time, I added the bicarbonate of soda (a common raising agent for cakes) to the warm wet mixture of a Chocolate Christmas Cake, when it should have been in with the dry ingredients. It bubbled and fizzed furiously, using up all of its lovely rising power in advance of the baking. I ignored my instincts and baked it anyway - needless to say, the cake came out about half the height it should have been and was as dense as brick. All of those lovely (and expensive!) ingredients wasted. Sister No.1 had a similar experience recently when making her famous Coconut Cake for a family event with her in-laws. She completely forgot the baking powder (another raising agent), resulting in two solid discs of sponge sandwiched with some rather delicious cream cheese icing and covered in coconut. Her cake still made it to first place at the informal cake contest held that day by her brother-in-law and was totally savaged (it just goes to show, one person's cake disaster can be another person's tasty treat).

I find these mishaps rarely occur when I'm trying something new or complex, but instead when I'm tired, distracted and making something I've done a dozen times before. Maybe there should be a caveat included in any baking instructions - do not attempt while tired and avoid if you've been enjoying a tipple. Ultimately, experienced baker or scared beginner, things can and do go wrong, so the best thing to do is adopt a relaxed attitude and, most importantly, don't panic - it's only cake!

Old Mother Hubbard

Yesterday we celebrated my sister's birthday. It wasn't actually her birthday (two week's to go yet), but since Dad is heading off to Spain and won't be here for the day itself, the whole family got together for a dinner to mark the momentous occasion (No.1 Sister is about to hit the big 4-0). Birthdays are serious business in our house - no mere day will suffice. Instead, we have what we call a 'birthday festival'. As on this occasion, it can mean starting the festivities early and then continuing through the actual birthday and beyond for a week or so. On the 'big' birthdays, it has even been known for celebrations to go on for months (as with Mam's 60th, almost three years ago). Some of the birthday parties are not much changed from childhood (with the important distinction that now they usually involve a glass of bubbly) - we still gather round the kitchen table at home; birthday banners are taped to the walls; there's generally a home-made birthday cake and / or other baked treats; and yes, we most definitely still sing 'Happy Birthday'.

For yesterday's pre-birthday festivities, things were a little more low-key, given that this is the advance march on the big celebration to come. I will happily seize any excuse to tie on my apron and bake up a storm, but I had to restrain myself - we were heading out for a lovely dinner in Ananda (the wonderful Indian restaurant in Dundrum) early in the evening, so whatever I came up with, it had to be small but fabulous. It also had to be easy and relatively effortless - although the heat of recent weeks has abated somewhat, it's still rather warm and muggy and generally, an unfriendly sort of weather for bakers. One thing came to mind - madeleines - fluffy, buttery, light little sponge cakes, with a slightly crispy exterior when eaten on the day they're baked (though some people consider them biscuits, to me they're more cake-like in texture and method). They are quick to make - with a pause between making and baking, while you refrigerate the batter - and even quicker to bake. You can play a bit with the flavour, by adding lemon zest for a lemony hint, a delicate touch of lavender or rose-water or even use cocoa to make a chocolate version, but for me, the original madeleine is the best. They make the perfect accompaniment to a cup of coffee or tea and as they're so small, they're practically guilt-free. Cake? What cake?

So, on went the apron, out came the pretty, fluted madeleine tray and off I went to gather the ingredients. It hadn't dawned on me to check that I actually had the necessary ingredients before I began, as madeleines require so few (simply eggs, butter, flour and sugar) and, as a rule, you will always find these in my kitchen. There was a brief moment of panic when I reached for the caster sugar, only to remember that I'd used the last of it the previous week and had completely forgotten to replace it when shopping. I felt like Old Mother Hubbard, as I gazed forlornly at the empty container and contemplated the lack of a spare bag of sugar in the baking press. I really did not feel like a trek to the shops to get sugar - the egg was already cracked and in the bowl, the flour was weighed and the butter was melted and cooling. Just as I was pondering the substitution of brown muscovado sugar for caster - which would, I imagine, give a darker, caramel flavoured madeleine (lovely, but not what I intended) - I remembered my little sugar bowl. There it sat on my counter-top; a tiny replica of a round Le Creuset casserole dish. I only use it for the odd sprinkle of sugar on porridge, so I hadn't thought of it before. I lifted the lid and peered into the half-filled little pot. Could it possibly contain enough sugar to save me a trip to the shops? Luckily, I was only baking a single batch of 12 madeleines, for which the ingredients required are minimal (1 egg, 50g butter, 45g flour and 40g of sugar). I poured the sugar into my weighing bowl and watched as the digital display rose to the magic number. Saved by the emergency sugar bowl!
 

A batch of delicious madeleines made their appearance a mere six minutes after I put the tin into the hot oven (I did promise quick and painless baking). Less than two hours later, we were sitting around the table at home, coffee poured and ready to tuck in. Mam had whipped up a batch of summer berry scones (proudly displayed in this photo), which were as fabulously good as ever (she is Queen of the Scone). They were quickly followed by my madeleines and a glass each of Peach Bellini (complete with a boozy strawberry floating merrily in the fizz), while we sat in the shade in the balmy back garden. A fitting start to the birthday celebrations.

Baking Hot

The unexpectedly beautiful weather we've been having lately coincided with a flurry of baking and sweet-making for my stand at a wedding fair last weekend (featured in today's photos). I love nothing more than hot summer sun -while walking along the beach (I'm lucky enough to live by the sea) or in the park or just lazing about drinking something cool and sparkly - but I have to say, baking cakes in this enervating heat is no fun. Although I never realised it before now, our usually 'mild, moist and variable' climate (a phrase I shall never forget from Primary School geography lessons) is the perfect bed-fellow for our well-established and well-loved baking traditions. It's not just about the heat from an oven in an already toasty kitchen (though modern air-con would help on this front at least); it's the way the heat saps the appetite for cake (yes, even from me!). Faced with a piece of cake, some ice-cold watermelon or an ice-cream, I would happily and easily forgo the cake for the cooling fruit or the frosty goodness of the ice-cream.

Sometimes, however, a cake is required, heat or no. Last Summer, we were in Spain for my Mam's birthday and I decided, as a surprise, to bake her a birthday cake (as you do). There were few options in terms of buying a cake and I wanted her to have something delicious. So it was a firm 'no' to the cream- or ice-cream-filled cakes in the cold cabinet of the local supermarket (not very nice, mass produced confections). Likewise, although the local bakery had some wonderful freshly baked breads, the pastries were invariably covered in a glaze and the cakes were far too sweet. That left me, one hot kitchen and an ill-conceived plan to bake a cake while the temperature, outside and in, climbed higher and higher.

It was mid-September but still as hot as Hades in the southern tip of Spain (next stop Africa), so I had to think hard about what to make - buttercream icing was out, as it would slide right off the cake into a puddle of buttery mess on the platter. Mam doesn't have a very sweet tooth but she does love dark chocolate, the darker the better in fact - given the choice, she'll go for a square of 85% cocoa solid chocolate as a treat, which to my sweet-loving palate is way too bitter - so it would have to be something densely chocolatey but not too luscious or sweet. As there would be no icing (too rich for Mam and too melty in the heat), the cake itself needed to be moist and the answer to this conundrum in baking terms is usually ground almonds. Luckily, there are almonds at every turn in Spain - the beloved nut features widely in Spainsh cuisine, both sweet and savoury.

Almond cakes are always a winner - the almonds can replace flour altogether (giving you a lovely gluten-free cake), the natural oil in the nuts provide moisture (cakes containing ground nuts keep extremely well and even improve over a few days) and last but not least, they can be spruced up with some fabulous flavours (chocolate is always good and orange is popular, though lemon is my favourite - I have a recipe for a Damp Lemon & Almond cake that can't be beat). My trusty baking book by Dan Lepard (he of fudge-fame in last week's post) came up trumps once again. I had tried a recipe a few months previously (while sensibly at home in the coolness of last year's Irish Summer) for a Chocolate & Almond Fudge Cake. I came across it while on the hunt for a yummy but gluten-free cake to bring with me to visit my friend (she's Coeliac). Like many flourless cakes, this one uses almonds as a substitute, but as an added bonus it also contains a cooked mixture of fine oats and milk. This gives a lovely fudgy texture (despite the recipe containing slightly less sugar than usual) and a heavier, more moist crumb than other chocolate and almond cakes. The icing on the cake (metaphorically rather than literally in this case) is the use of both cocoa and a substantial amount of lovely, dark chocolate in the cake mixture, to give it a rich, deep chocolate flavour.

This cake is pretty simple to make. I didn't have my full range of baking tins, equipment or my well-stocked baking cupboard to hand, but frankly, with a bowl, a whisk, a wooden spoon and a simple cake tin, any cake is achievable and this one in particular. (Honesty compels me to add here that while simple, it also required a serious bit of elbow grease - whipping 3 egg whites by hand in the heat of a Spanish Summer made me long for my lovely, electric Kitchen Aid Artisan Mixer.) The resulting cake has an incredibly rich, darkly chocolatey flavour, without being overly sweet or heavy. Mr Lepard recommends serving it with a topping of whipped double cream flavoured with some Pedro Ximenez sherry (unwittingly fiiting in with my Spanish theme) and scattered with shavings of dark chocolate. It would also be pretty good served warm from the oven with some vanilla ice-cream on the side. We ate it as it came, with a cup of coffee and a glass of Cava standing by. Fabulous.

Hot and bothered

Unseasonal but fab - the Christmas Puddini

The last few days have been spent preparing for a wedding fair this Sunday, where I'll be showing off my lovely wedding favours. I've been getting ahead of myself by making some biscuit dough (currently residing in the freezer, ready to be baked and iced on Saturday), chocolate & peanut-butter cups, fudge and some rather un-seasonal Puddini (truffles decked out as mini-Victorian style round Christmas puddings). The last of the prep complete, I'm now sitting in the very hot and very un-Irish sunshine on my balcony by the sea writing this post. Fortunately there's a lovely sea breeze, which is a life-saver since I spent the morning slaving away over a hot stove making a batch of vanilla fudge.

 

I must confess, although I would happily take a bit of fudge if offered, I was never really mad about the stuff. My earliest introduction to it was probably the Fudge bar in the Cadbury's selection box, which was slightly grainy and gritty, too sugary and never my favourite in the box as a child. And having just sent my mind back to memories of the selection box and the bar, in flies the song from the old fudge bar ad - "a finger of fudge is just enough to give the kids a treat!" - apologies if you now have it stuck in your head too. The cheaper varieties of fudge that I've come across in more recent years (I'm looking at you, Pick 'n Mix fudge) are distinctly lacking in any real flavour and the texture is wrong. Too smooth, a bit claggy and not melty enough. Now, don't get me wrong, I am aware of the wonderful artisan fudges increasingly available out there but my early fudge experiences were off-putting enough for me not to bother trying too many of them.

 

So why on earth did I start making my own fudge, you might ask? Well, the very first batch was for my Mam. She doesn't have quite the sweet tooth that I have, but she loves a bit of fudge. I was the proud recipient of (yet another) baking book two birthdays ago, which contained a recipe for fudge. The book was the baking bible that is Short & Sweet by Dan Lepard (or my Def Leppard baking book as my sister calls it) and this is just one of the myriad excellent recipes it contains. As fudge was something I'd never tried before and I know Mam loves it, off I went to kitchen to give it a go.

 

Fudge is pretty easy to make, with a short list of ingredients (sugar, butter, milk, vanilla) and equipment (pot, a wooden spoon and sugar thermometer). It does, however, require constant stirring for the forty minutes or so it takes to make. Even better, the last ten minutes of the process involves beating the now very thick mixture vigorously and continuously with the spoon (as my arms protest loudly). All of this stirring and beating is necessary to give the buttery, vanilla-scented fudge its lovely soft, smooth but slightly grainy, melt-in-the-mouth texture. Needless to say, my apartment does not have air-conditioning (being situated in Ireland) and the ambient temperature today was about 23 degrees (or so my sugar thermometer told me before I immersed it in boiling hot fudge). Granted, at the last, fudge-beating stage the pot should be off the heat and so could be moved to the relatively cooler climes at the dining table by the open balcony door. Still. Hot work my friends. Gym? Personal trainer? Not at all - just whip up a batch of fudge. Much cheaper. Maybe I'm on to something here... though on second thoughts, if your exercise goal is to lose weight, being left with the resulting batch of fudge winking temptingly at you every time you open the fridge, this might not be the work-out for you!

Birthday baking bonanza

I awoke this morning with a very muggy head (it's still not terribly clear, so apologies if I begin to ramble), the result of a weekend of excess followed by a bracing mountain hike to redress the balance. No.3 Sister turned thirty on Friday and as she is the baby of the family, her arrival into proper grown-up territory required much celebrating and, needless to say, alot of baking.

 

It began on Friday morning with a basket of pretzels still warm from the oven, as requested by the birthday girl following the success of the trial batch earlier in June. For those of you looking for an update on the bicarbonate versus caustic soda bath for the pretzels, I confess that I haven't quite gathered the requisite courage to face the caustic version. An Austrian colleague of No.1 Sister assured her that she'd never heard of anyone using caustic soda and since I've had no complaints on the quality of the pretzel, for the moment I feel if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Besides, I still haven't purchased the necessary safety equipment (that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!).

 

 

There was a brief interlude in the baking schedule when No.3 Sister high-tailed it down to Cork to hear The National play (lucky, lucky girl). Cinderella here stayed behind to make sure there was plenty of birthday cake for her return on Sunday afternoon. I planned to bake a Lemon meringue layer cake, sandwiched with cream and lemon curd, to be eaten after the birthday dinner. This was one of only three cakes approved by my extraordinarily fussy sister. She's not a huge cake fan, unless it's something very simple, classic and not very rich. As this cake incorporates two of her favourite things- sponge and meringue - it passes the test. Happily, it's also an impressive sight on the cake stand, birthday candles ablaze, and thus perfect for such a big celebration. The cake was delicious after the lovely dinner Mam made (a very tasty meatloaf with chickpea and tomato sauce), with the tangy lemon curd the ideal counterpoint to the sweetness of the meringue, the buttery, lemon sponge and the richness of the cream. The only complaint from around the table was that I should stop taking photos for my blog and just dish up the cake already (seriously, I barely escaped with my camera intact).

Although the cake plan was approved and in the works (the lemon curd was made in advance on Saturday), I felt there was a brownie-sized gap in the Sunday celebrations. We were all descending upon the parents early afternoon for coffee and a glass of bubbly to toast the birthday girl on her return and since the cake was for after dinner, later that evening, something else was required. As mentioned above, No.3 Sister has no love for decadent, rich, 'fancy' cakes (her word), so I turned to the 1970s All-Colour Hamlyn Cookbook, the go-to recipe book of our childhood, with all the family cake favourites on which I honed my skills. The chocolate brownie in this book is more cake-like than the dense, moist brownie more commonly found today and is not over-poweringly chocolatey (with cocoa rather than melted chocolate in the mixture) - so far so blah, I hear you say. What makes this brownie particularly special and more-ish though is the gooey, fudgy icing that is poured over the top and drips down over the sides. In theory, you could give the icing enough time to set before you cut the brownie into squares, so that there's no dripping and a neater finish. In practice, the temptation to cut, serve and eat is frequently too much (as proved the case on Sunday - witness the icing cascading over the edges of the squares in my photo).

 

All in all, the birthday celebrations were a great success, though the cake and bubbly hangover made yesterday's hike to the top of Djouce mountain in Wicklow quite a bit more painful than it needed to be. Fortune smiles on the brave, however, and in addition to our picnic sandwiches, we had the left-over brownies to fortify us before the march back down. I can think of nothing better than eating a brownie while sitting on the top of a mountain, with the world spread out at your feet and the sun (finally) peeking through the clouds. The perfect end to a lovely weekend.