Gnome-man's Land

Gnomes. A rather odd preoccupation and yet, there they are, stumpy little bearded fellows with conical hats and brightly coloured tunics, constantly popping in and out of my head over the last few days. Possibly the onset of madness, but in this case I reckon I know the cause. I was working near Stepaside last Thursday and driving through it sparked a memory of childhood trips to the seaside. Stepaside was en route to Brittas Bay in County Wicklow and one of the houses in the village was practically suffocating beneath hundreds of gnomes: In the garden, on the garage roof, on the window-sills... they were everywhere, in varying sizes and hues, some with garden tools, others in lederhosen and most with beards, hats and chubby cheeks. Slightly creepy when I think of it now, but as a child it was simply mesmerizing - my sisters, my brother and I would watch anxiously from the car window on the approach to the village, for fear that we'd miss it. 

Recipe Folder

Sadly (or perhaps not), I couldn't find the Gnome House last week but the memory lives on in my head and since it doesn't seem to want to leave, I decided to write about it and (hopefully) exorcise it from my mind. Having gnomes on the brain has not led to a cake- or baking-inspired post, so this is not an account of a gnome-shaped cake or a cake that a gnome might like to eat (Which would be what I wonder? Mississippi Mud Pie perhaps?). Instead, today's post is all about being crafty. And by 'crafty' I do of course mean the art of making things, rather than the art of wily, crafty ways, a la Machiavelli. Bit of a leap from gnomes to arts and crafts I hear you say, but as gnomes are often ceramic, it made me think of plaster casts and pottery, which in turn lead to arts and crafts (you see? demented but still logical). 

Having outed myself as a closeted baker in one of my early posts, I think it's now time to exit the crafting closet, embroidery in one hand and decoupage glue in the other, proudly declaring my love for all things crafty. Looking back, I can see that I come by my crafty ways honestly. Early exposure to BBC's Blue Peter was reinforced by RTE's own arts and crafts show, hosted by Mary 'Make and Do' as she was known to all of us (apparently her real name is Mary Fitzgerald and the show was called 'How do you do?', though I have no memory of that). Hours and hours of fun projects involving crepe paper, cardboard toilet roll inserts, glue and paint... Resistance was futile. 

As a grown-up, arts and crafts can be fun and you can produce some really fabulous pieces even if you don't have specialist training and an elaborate work-shop. Not all crafts require you to fabricate an object from scratch, so even if you don't have the particular skills or tools needed for the likes of pottery, silver-smithing, woodwork or dress-making, there's always something you can do. Much of what I enjoy in the craft world is essentially embellishment or ornamental work - taking a plain, bland or unloved item and making it pretty (or otherwise livening it up - it doesn't have to be pretty, it can be a mad gothic delight if you so choose). 

Decoupage swan tray

A very simple technique to use if you can't paint or draw a picture to save your life (that would be me) is decoupage. It comes from the French word meaning 'to cut up' and unsurprisingly consists of cutting out bits of paper (from magazines, newspapers, old wallpaper - whatever catches your eye) and gluing them on to whatever it is you'd like to embellish. I decided to do a spot of decoupage on the folder that I use to store torn-out or scribbled down recipes. It was an old, cheap, red plastic ring-binder that upset me with its ugliness every time I took it down from the shelf. The joy of decoupage is that you can make any pattern or design that you like, very easily. Simply cut and glue (that really is all there is to it), then in the case of my folder, I simply covered it with clear plastic sticky sheets. Alternatively, you could jazz up an old wooden tray by painting it white and getting busy with some cut-outs, before varnishing the finished surface to protect it. The craft world is your oyster, so to speak.

Art Deco Poppy

Embroidery, as I've mentioned before, is another craft that I turn to every so often and there are any number and variety of needlepoint kits out there, from the twee kitten ones to heavy-metal band logos (Seriously). I've framed two of the larger embroidery pieces that I've completed, but as it seems a tad 'Cat Lady' to cover the walls of my apartment in embroidered images (it would be very easy to find yourself slipping down that particular road), this begs the question: what does one do with the finished pieces, accumulated over years of embroidering? Generally I just put them away somewhere and forget about them, since for me the joy is in the process rather than in the display of the finished product. I did, however, come across an embroidered poppy bookmark last year, safely stashed away in a book on Classical art (a heavy tome of a book, so I presume I put it there to press it). It was quite a stylised image, reminiscent of Art Deco designs, and it inspired me to decorate a big, grey velvet lounging cushion (sourced from Ikea) to give to my sister for her birthday. A few scraps of material, some pretty gold ribbon and lots of tiny stitches later, No.1 Sister now has a comfy Art Deco-style cushion to prop her up as she drinks her coffee on a Sunday morning.

The birthday cushion

So from decorative pieces to hang on your wall to gifts for loved ones - arts and crafts are the way forward. Indeed, there's an awful lot to be said for the therapeutic nature of craft and the satisfaction to be gained from creativity. Just one note of caution though - dip your toe into this crafty world and you can suddenly find yourself diving head first into the deep end. One day you're embroidering a small scene of lavender fields and the next you wake up to discover that you've crossed no-man's land and entered enemy territory - there are framed embroidery pictures on every wall, lace doilies on the tables, knitted cushion covers on the sofa, crochet dolls covering the toilet roll in the bathroom and an extended family of ceramic gnomes inhabiting your garden. So if you're thinking of taking up a craft, go for it - I can highly recommend it and if you're not quite sure where to start, there's inspiration to be found all around you. Just don't stray into gnome-man's land. It's a scary place of no return. You have been warned.

O.C.D.

A relaxing Sunday with no plans and no chores. Now doesn't that sound simply wonderful? I had a good start, walking along the sea-shore to the shops to get the Sunday papers (the sun was shining and the sky was mostly blue - a glorious morning), but ever the restless spirit, I soon gave in to the need to be doing something. Whenever my need to take it easy is fighting the good fight against my desire to be busy (insufficient chill time leads me sadly but surely down the road to relapse and illness), I try desperately to tune in to the clamour of voices in my head (which would be all of my family screeching at me to for god's sake just relax!). In this instance, the devil on my shoulder won the battle and off I went to make brownies (they were baking in the oven as I started to write this and boy did they smell good). In my own defence, brownies are both speedy and easy to make, which means I haven't really broken my do-nothing vow... I swear! Besides, since I find baking so therapeutic and relaxing, I'm really doing myself a favour (I can be quite persuasive with myself when I want to be).

Brownies in the making...

So let's talk brownie. They have to be dense, fudgy and moist, rather than light, airy and cake-like. This means none of the usual faffing about with creaming methods, whisking eggs or raising agents, and it's what makes them perfect as a starter recipe for the novice baker. Yes, you have to melt chocolate, which some people find terrifying (though some recipes contain cocoa instead - easier and less expensive but not as luxurious as the melted chocolate version). The method is fool-proof: simply melt chocolate and butter together (there is much less chance of your chocolate seizing or burning if you melt it with butter, so fear not), add sugar, eggs and vanilla extract and mix until incorporated, then stir in the flour. Job done. To this basic chocolate brownie recipe (see below) you can then go wild - add nuts, dried fruit, chocolate chips or salted caramel. Whatever your little heart desires, there's probably already a recipe out there (even if you don't have my library of baking books, Google is your friend here), but if you're confident enough, feel free to strike out on your own. The joy of baking for your own pleasure is that if it goes wrong, it doesn't really matter. You'll know what to do or what not to do the next time. 
  

The icing on the cake...

I often feel that the basic chocolate brownie - no matter how deliciously chocolatey or perfectly baked it is - needs improvement. I'm not sure what it is about it - the sameness of texture and flavour perhaps? Whatever it is, I feel it's crying out for a make-over. It's the ultimate fixer-upper of a cake; a dense chocolate slab that can take a multitude of different flavours and textures. That's why the idea of chocolate icing to go on top of an already rich, decadent brownie really appealed to me. Not a new idea by any means and I currently have two go-to recipes for something similar, but the icing described by No.2 Sister recently was a fresh take on it. 

The icing recipe comes from the kitchen of young Donal Skehan and is, apparently, the very one that No.2 Sister enjoyed on the fabulous brownie. I managed to track it down on his blog (she says, like it was a marathon search - it actually popped up on first google). It's essentially a chocolate cream cheese frosting and folks, it is a winner (recipe below). The result is an unusually light, very luxurious frosting. It has the consistency of softly whipped double cream, but is even silkier in texture. It's immensely chocolatey but not overly rich and the slight tang of the cream cheese contrasts with the dense chocolate brownie beautifully (and the combination of icing and brownie tastes for all the world like the best chocolate cheesecake ever). It hasn't quite nudged the salted caramel and peanut brownie off first place, but I don't have the heart to relegate it to second place either. We might just have a draw in the perfect brownie stakes. 

Reflecting on the compulsion I've felt over the last two weeks to make these brownies has given me pause. I'm quite busy, very tired and don't have a marvellous appetite just now and yet I absolutely had to make these brownies. Is it normal to be so obsessed with cake and cake-making? I've even been reading a book on the history of cakes (fascinating by the way). There's no way round it - I believe I'm suffering from Obsessive Cake Disorder and, Lord save me, I'm so far gone that I don't even want to be cured...