Wednesday, 27 March 2013

Outine article - March

Should you be interested, you can read my March article for Outline magazine here (p.34). The recipe won't be anything new to regular readers, BUT you can read my month's musings and blasphemous links between Jesus and artisan baking...

Tuesday, 12 March 2013

Pop-up shop

Attention Norfolkers - this Saturday, I will be selling baked goods at the above. How about you come say Hi and consume some mega calories?

Tuesday, 5 March 2013

Banana and Nutella cake

Excuse the absence. Bloody houses, bloody decorating, etc. Anyway, moving on....

There is a trend in the blogging word, it seems, to be constantly announcing exciting news on the horizon. The writers of many of the blogs I read - mostly the ones I follow specifically to make myself cross - are forever shouting about new projects and collaborations, soon to be revealed. But often you never hear any more about it, or it turns out to be something unnecessarily dull, like a new sponsor, or a competition to win a pair of mittens made out of cat hair.

So recently, when I got my own little bit of exciting news, I kept it to myself; hidden away in some secret place (a bit like the eyeshadow I stole when I was 13 and then hid under my bed for the next five years, in fear that a wondering policeman would spy my sparkly eyelids and just KNOW). I was reluctant to shout it from the rooftops, in case it never come to anything, or I'd sound like one of those knobends who constantly retweet praise on twitter.

But now that it's actually happened, I feel that I can make a bit of a fuss about it. Perks and compliments are few and far between in blogsville, so I don't feel too guilty about the ego trip. And it seems fitting, with Sod Nigella recently celebrating its first birthday *weak party blower sound*.

So my news is this: I am now the monthly food columnist for Outline magazine - a news/reviews/what's on type publication for the yoof of Norwich. Most famously it features a spread of photos of people on nights out, which as teenagers you would check furiously to see if you'd been snapped on the raz at Po Na Nas. Being the same age as me, the editor, Emma, has recently decided to start adding a few more features for the prematurely middle aged, which is where yours truly comes in.

Of course, I don't get paid vast sums of money or anything professional in THAT sense, but I do get to yell things like "Can you think of an example of X, it's for a thing?" and "Don't bother me, I'm on a deadline!" at Ben. The beach hut in Barbados is a while off yet, but I can say that my name is in print and being circulated to the masses of Norwich.

Wanna see? Well you can do so here (p.28). You can expect much of the same as what you get here - a lot of swearing and amateur cooking techniques, but within a word limit and on a less sporadic basis.

For my first article in Feb, I was tasked with writing about pinterest (a subject which I feel predictably cynical about, at the same time as finding it quite useful) and recreating a recipe from my own pinnings. This was the outcome: a banana and Nutella cake.

Turns out Ben doesn't like banana cake. Shame.

Bananutella Cake
4 eggs
8oz caster sugar
8oz stork/butter, softened
10oz plain flour
2 tsp baking powder
1tsp vanilla extract
3 ripe bananas, mashed
2tsp cinnamon

300g icing sugar
200g cream cheese
2 heaped tbsp Nutella

Mix together all of the cake ingredients, except the banana. I’m a great fan of bunging it all in together, but you can cream your butter and sugar and so forth, if you’re that way inclined. When smooth, stir in your bananas.

Decant into two round, greased cake tins and bake for about 45 mins at gas mark 3/160C. Check after half an hour by inserting a skewer into the middle – if it comes out clean your cake is done, if it’s got some mix on, shove it back in for another ten mins at a time until done.

Once cooked, allow your cake to cool and make the icing by mixing the icing sugar (you do have to sieve that I’m afraid), cream cheese and Nutella.  Make sure to mix it well, so you have a smooth consistency. Then splodge it on to your cake in whatever manner takes your fancy, and scoff.