Milk-shake, rattle 'n' roll Cake

Marble Malt Kit Kat Cake 

 Cast your mind back to a simpler time. 

 
Think: black and white checker board diner floors.

Think: duke boxes pumping out sounds of the 50s.
Think: waiters on roller-skates gracefully balancing an order while zooming around a parking lot.
Think: greasy food devoured without the burden of "low-carb-gluten free-fructose-friendly-seriously can you order anything" restrictions and woes.
Think: the majestic froth topped, whipped cream bound, ice-cream lathered and lactose lavished milkshake.

  

Ah, the milkshake.

An irreverent nod to a time without fad diets, food intolerances and strict health regulations that made companies declare the possibility that; "...at some point during the manufacturing process the gluten free, fructose friendly, low lactose and nut-free product, might have in fact been invaded by a horde of Allergen Aliens who could, and probably did, slip any number of these ingredients into the product". Often, this declaration is followed by a complaints hot line number: Just call 1800-PleaseDon'tSue.

  

Alas, I digress, back to the 1950s and the iconic milkshake. 

Brace yourself: a Fistory (that's Food History...obviously) lesson is coming your way. Please keep your arms and legs inside the time travel vehicle at all times and if you feel your eyes becoming heavy and the urge to sleep overwhelming, break emergency glass and inhale copious amounts of sugar and caffeine. 

The milkshake originated in the 1800s and unlike the family friendly favorite of the 50s, it was originally an alcoholic whiskey drink, consumed  as a naughty nightcap by adults once the children had retired to la-la land. I'm guessing that it gained the nickname "milkshake" when said adults were sprung by sleeping walking children...really brings a whole new meaning to a warming glass of "milk" before bed. Come the 1900s the drink became un-whiskified and re-branded, thus becoming synonymous with the G-rated, frosty, frothy version that became so popular in the 50s. Bless.   

Fistory lesson complete. 

You may now wake up, rub your eyes and behold the milkshake cake. My nostalgic nod to a simpler time and the divine flavors of malt infused, creamy goodness. With a dense malt-choc marble cake, covered in malt flavored buttercream, surrounded by a hug of Kit Kats and topped with a halo of milkshake M&Ms, this decadent cake is gluten loaded, fructose heavy, lactose laden and simply...glorious. An ode to a time that just screams "Milk-shake, rattle 'n' roll".

Consumer Warning: while the good times do roll with this celebration cake, it is not recommended that you dust off the ole' rollerskates, grease up the creaky bones and zoom this dessert out to your guests.

Little known Fistory Fact: many a milkshake died in the 1950s due to this practice which discriminated heavily against those possessing two left feet and a severe lack of balance.

Malt-marble Cake:

2 cups sifted flour
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
150g butter
30g dark chocolate melted
3/4 cup milk
1/2 cup malt powder
1 1/4 cup caster sugar
3 eggs
1/2 tsp vanilla essence  

Preheat oven to 180 degrees. Grease and line a 20cm large deep tin.

To make the Malt infused milk: 
In a small pot over a low flame, combine 3/4 cup of milk with 1/2 cup malt powder. Gently heat the mixture, stirring with a whisk until the powder has dissolved and infused the milk. Then remeasure the malt milk to fill 3/4 cup measurement (discard any leftovers). Set aside to cool.

Cream the butter and sugar together. Add the eggs one at a time beating well after each addition. Add sifted flour ingredients in two batches, alternating with malt infused milk, beating only well enough to blend. Finally, add the baking powder with the last spoonful of flour (this will ensure that the baking powder is not overworked in the mixer). Divide the batter into two bowls. Fold the melted chocolate and vanilla essence into one bowl of batter and leave the other batter plain. Dollop the two batters into the lined tin in alternating spoonfuls, then use a cake skewer to gently swirl the two batters together forming a marbled effect.

Bake for one hour or until when tested the skewer comes out clean. Leave in the tin for 5 minutes before turning out onto a cooling rack.

Malt Icing:

160g butter
1/4 cup, plus 1 tbsp milk
1/2 tsp vanilla essence
1 3/4 cups sifted icing sugar
1/2 cup malt powder

In a small pot over a low flame, combine 1/4 cup and 1 tbsp of milk with 1/2 cup malt powder. Gently heat the mixture, stirring with a whisk until the powder has dissolved and infused the milk. Remove from the heat and allow to cool. In a mixer beat the butter until smooth and then add the sifted icing sugar and vanilla essence. Continue to beat until smooth (about 45 seconds). Add the cooled malt infused milk and continue to beat until the buttercream is light and fluffy (about 3 minutes).

To Decorate:

1 batch of Malt Icing
2 packets of Milkshake flavoured M&Ms
21 Funsize Kit Kats (my suggestion is to buy 2 Funsize multipacks, in which the Kit Kats come individually wrapped in pairs. Do NOT break the Kit Kats apart, leave them joined).

Generously ice the cake with the Malt icing, ensuring that you adequately cover the top and sides of the cake. Unwrap the Kit Kats and surround the sides, gently pressing in the Kit Kats as you go in order to make certain that they are stuck to the icing. Once the entire cake is surrounded, use some ribbon to gently wrap around the cake, not only does it look lovely, but it also helps the Kit Kats to set to the icing, reducing the amount of mess when you come to cut to the cake. Finally, open up two packets of Milkshake flavoured M&Ms and haphazardly dump them on top of the cake! There is no room for perfectionist based obsession with this stage of the decoration. The M&Ms will fall at will and it magically creates a "oh, why yes, I did just roll out of bed looking this awesome" effect, that will dazzle onlookers.

Enjoy a generous slice of this cake with a glass of cold milk. Or, better yet, why not pair it with its 1950s soul-mate; a handsomely tall, dark and creamy milkshake!

   

Choc-chip-off-your-shoulder Cake

Choc-Chip Cookie Cake 

Growing up there was only one sure fire cure for everything that ails you. 

The choc-chip biscuit. 

Witness the miracle wonder cure in action for yourselves:  

"Step right up ladies and gentlemen, step right up. Is life turning your smile upside down? Is your mouth puckered into a permanent grimace, with brow creases so deep that it puts the Grand Canyon to shame?
 

Well folks, today is the day that you have been waiting for. I present to you the marvelous, the miraculous mood mending medicine that is guaranteed to have your blues turning into rose colored hues. Introducing the choc-chip-off-your-shoulder biscuit. Step right up ladies and gentlemen, don't be shy. 

Hard day at school? 
Take 2 generous doses until the soft chocolate centers negate the ill effects of your hard day.

Exam stress? 
Take 1 every four hours until the deadline dies.

Bad baking experiment? 
Open the lid and pour the entire jar into your mouth and await bliss.

No more cookies? 
Mix together active ingredients and consume raw.

Ladies and gentleman, there is no chip too large and no burden to heavy that the cookie can't bear. The ancient blend of brown sugar, butter, vanilla essence and chocolate chip buttons are carefully brewed with ample quantities of good intentions and baked beneath golden rays of sunshine. Mark my words; the choc-chip off your shoulder biscuit will be the remedy to your melancholy melody; sure to change your tune and your outlook on life.

In the unlikely event that one batch does not fully cure your ailment, I give to you: the choc-chip off your shoulder cake. One of the 7 wonders of the baking world, this beauty has four tiers that reach up to the heavens. Each level of biscuit crunch is sandwiched together with layers of Nutella cream cheese filling. Behold the gravity defying, Amazonian cookie cake that will tower over your woes turning them into wows".

So there you have it: the super-sized miracle choc-chip biscuit turned into a celebration cake. Don't believe the hype? Well, get into the kitchen and whip one up today, as this baking wonder has to be eaten to be believed. 

Choc-chip Cookie: (Yields 4 giant cookies)

450g softened butter

1 1/2 cups caster sugar

1 1/2 cups packed brown sugar

2 tsp vanilla essence 

4 eggs   

4 cups sifted plain flour

2 tsp bicarbonate soda

Pinch salt

1 cup dark chocolate melts

1 cup milk chocolate melts

1 cup mini M&M's

Preheat the oven to 190 degrees Celsius. Line 2 round 19cm spring-form baking tins with baking paper. 

Beat the butter, sugars and vanilla essence until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time beating well between each addition. Gradually add the flour, salt and bicarbonate soda. This point about gradually adding the dry ingredients is very important to adhere to as the batter quantity is enormous (after all, it is not one of the 7 wonders of the baking world for no reason). I don't know about you but I don't have an industrial mixer in my home, I have my trusty Kenwood that was been passed down to me and such outranks me in seniority. Age has not worn this beauty down, and it is always up for any task I throw at it, and in turn I show it great respect. To throw 4 cups of flour straight in and expect it to be able to mix through it would be tantamount to negligence and may result in you having to replace your mixer. Instead whisper sweet nothings to your loyal and hardworking mixer and GRADUALLY add the dry ingredients. Once the dry ingredients are well combined fold through the 3 cups of chocolate.

Using slightly damp hands, gently press 1/4 of the batter mixture into the first spring-form tin (it should be about 2cm in depth). Repeat this process into the second spring-form tin and then put both tins into the oven for 25 minutes, or until the biscuits have a light golden brown appearance. Allow the biscuits to rest in the tins for 5 minutes before running a knife around the edges and releasing the tin. Place onto a cooling rack. Repeat the process in order to make 2 more giant biscuits.

Note: You may have a little bit of batter left over and with this you have several options at your disposal; make a large cookie, make a few small cookies or eat the batter raw with a dollop of ice-cream (no one will judge you if you choose the latter option!) While the biscuits are cooling, move onto making the Nutella Cheesecake Filling.
  
Nutella Cream Cheese Filling:

1/3 cup icing sugar
150g softened butter
150g softened Nutella
100g light Cream Cheese      

Beat the sugar, softened butter and cream cheese until light and fluffy. Place the Nutella in the microwave for 5-10 seconds in order to slightly soften it, then add to the mixer, beating until well incorporated.

Assembling the cake:

Place a little bit of the Nutella Cream Cheese onto the serving platter, then secure one of the biscuits in order to stabilize the base of your cake. Spread a generous amount of filling on top of the biscuit and then place a second biscuit on top of the first. Continue layering the filling and biscuits until 4 biscuits high. Then stand back, with a glass of milk and admire one of the greatest wonders of the baking world before using a serrated knife to cut yourself a massive slice of happiness. 

Cup of Cookies & Milk

One Cup of cookies & a shot of malted milk

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas everywhere you go...

Well, at the time I dreamed up these delicate miniature chocolate chip cookie cups filled with creamy malted milk, it was beginning to look a lot like Christmas in New York. Fast forward six months and it is beginning to look a lot like winter in Australia, which is still the perfect season for cookies and milk in front of a roaring fireplace.

All my life I have been obsessed with Christmas; the lights, the  trees, the songs, the spiced baked goods and lashings of mulled wine. As I don't actually celebrate Christmas, my theory is that the film industry (coupled with Coca Cola's genius branding of the big jolly man in the red suit), has a lot to answer for in the way that this particular festive season is sealed into my subconscious desires.

Nevertheless, my most beloved Christmas tradition speaks to my baker within. I am speaking of the ritual that requires you to leave cookies and milk for Santa Claus on Christmas Eve so that when he shimmies down the chimney (or crawls through the doggy door) his are desserts await. The origin of this practice is unclear, but I do have to wonder whether it was developed as a practical security measure.

Reflect for a moment if you will; an old man in a red suit is breaking into your house while you are sleep.

Far from ideal.

Perhaps this particular bake-dition was created by the local neighborhood-watch, in the hope that by the time Santa reached your house, he would be too hefty to fit down the chimney, or crawl through the doggy door or even squeeze between the burglar bars (you can take the parents out of Africa, but you can't take Africa out of the parents). Whatever the basis for the mysterious tradition is, I am a fan. In fact it was this very Christmas ritual that inspired my invention of baked cookies & milk (I figured if I was the big man, I would not want to waste time sculling a glass of milk at every house all over the world in one night. The lactose intolerant in me sympathizes with the consequences of such an action).           

The only part of Christmas that I have never understood is why it exists only once a year. Surely a holiday this spectacular should be celebrated all year round and is to be enjoyed 365 days of the year? Baking these buttery, malt infused goodies taught me an unexpected lesson that answered my (Chris)mass pondering session. While making these biscuits I was sick... really sick... lost-my-sense-of-smell-and-taste sick. I could not enjoy the scent of butter wafting from my oven (nor the milkshake scented filling) or taste the tiny bits of milk chocolate that I had lovingly chopped into the shortbread batter. Friends and family popped them in their mouths one at a time, with the look reminiscent of a child the night before Christmas plastered on their faces, fascination, awe and unadulterated joy.

I was in Hell.

I was the Grinch who wanted to destroy Christmas (and those little cups of cookies & milk).

Instead, I put one biscuit aside and waited for THREE whole days until a flicker of taste had returned. Then, I opened the container, pausing to savour the rich, buttery aroma and nibbled just a corner...then engulfed the rest. All my Christmases had come at once and I learned the lesson of patience and anticipation. The deliciousness was magnified because I had to wait, counting down the days until I could appreciate all that tiny, but mighty, biscuit had to offer. This is why Christmas can only fall once a year, it's special festivity is to be anticipated for 364 days, but savoured and celebrated for just one...on the other hand, you can just make these divine biscuits every day of the year, and Christmas can be eternal!        

Shortbread cookie cups

250g butter
1/3 cup icing sugar
1/3 cup cornflour
1/4 cup caster sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla essence
2   1/3 cups plain flour
1/2 cup milk chocolate drops chopped finely

Set the oven to 180 degrees Celsius.

Melt the butter in the microwave using short bursts of 45 seconds. Allow the melted butter to cool slightly. Into a mixer, sift the icing sugar and cornflour, then add the caster sugar. Then add the cooled, melted butter and vanilla essence, beating until the consistency changes to thick and creamy (this will take about 5-6 minutes). Add the sifted flour and mix well until a soft dough forms. By hand, fold through the finely chopped milk drops, until evenly spread throughout the dough.

Picking up about a tablespoon of dough, roll into a ball and use your palms to flatten into a disc that it approximate 10cm in diameter. Then, using a 24 capacity mini cupcake tray (not greased or lined), ease the disc into the tray gently lifting the sides in order to press the base down flat. You will want to make sure that disc is beg enough and thick enough to cover the capacity without any wholes or breaks. The disc will slightly overhang the edges of the cupcake capacity, but this is fine as it will form a lip around the cookie cup making it sturdy and easier to remove from the tray once baked. If any cracks form as you are easing the disc into the tray simply pinch the dough to seal the cracks. Once you have repeated this process and all the cupcake cases in the tray are filled, use a dessert fork to gently pierce the bases (I pricked the cups three times with the fork, this will help to reduce to amount that shortbread rises, allowing for them to retain a cavity which will then be filled).

A tip: if you have dough left over, grab another mini cupcake tray and repeat the process. All the shortbread must be molded at the same time (not one tray at a time), otherwise the dough dries out which will cause it to crack and become impossible to be transformed into cookie cups.

Bake the cookie cups for 18-20 minutes or until golden brown. Remove them from the oven and allow them to cool for 5 minutes. Then, gently give the cups a twist in the tray and remove onto a cooling rack. The high butter content in shortbread means that the cups will not stick to the tray and easily pop put after baking (the wonderful miracle of butter!)

Once completely cooled, the cups are ready to be filled.

Malted Milk Filling:

50g butter (softened)
50g malt powder (not Milo, but rather the Nestle Malt powder)
35g white chocolate
1 1/2 cups icing sugar
1 tbsp milk

In a mixer, beat the butter until light and fluffy and then gradually add sifted icing sugar and continue to beat until smooth and pale. Add melted chocolate, malt powder and milk and once more beat the mixture until smooth. Using a spatula, scoop the icing into a piping bag (my fancy piping bag is actually a disposable zip lock bag, from which I fill and then snip the corner off to pipe - works a charm). Fill each cookie cup with a generous amount of malt filling and allow time for it set.

The beauty of shortbread biscuit is that the filling won't make the biscuit base soggy, rather it remains crispy and buttery short, while the malt filling is a smooth and creamy contrast. Pre-filled cookie cups will last up to a week in an airtight container, and unfilled cups can be stored and frozen for up to two months.

Note: If the cookie cups are filled, they won't even last a week because, between the likes of Santa Claus, family and friends, they will be gone in the blink of an eye.    

     

Pretzel Choc-aramel Trender Bender

Pretzel Choc-aramel Slice


Trends. 
Fads. 
In vogue.

Words often applied to the fashion world. Words that conjure up flashes of padded shoulder pads, flared flares, neo-rific neon and scrunched scrunchies.

Trends. 
Fads. 
In vogue.


Words often applied to the world of interior design. Words that conjure up images of peachy peach kitchens, brown suede swathed in plastic and the more recent "vintage-rustic-industrial-is-it- scratched-enough-to-appear-authentic?" everything.

Trends. 
Fads. 
In vogue.

Words also applied to the world of baking. I know what you are thinking; "Vogue would not approve of calorific endeavours such as baking, thus it could never be"in vogue". Incorrect. Trends, fads and baking forays that have been "in vogue" include, but are not limited to, a trifle chaotic trifles, instantly instant tasting mousses, "it's-pronounced-macarons-not-macaroons" macrons, pop in the mouth cake pops and the enduring cupcake craze.

Here is the thing about trends, they came into vogue, drive us crazy and then against our better judgment they begin to worm their way into our hearts, wardrobes, homes and even our taste-buds. I have reveled in the use of hair scrunchies, dotted my home with "vintage-rustic-industrial-is-it-scratched-enough-to-appear-authentic?" everything and have popped a cake pop...or two...or five. Like all good trends they will ultimately crash in and fade out. I gave up scrunchies in the 90's (10 years too late), eventually popped my cake pop bubble (it is just mushed cake!) and the "vintage" pieces now just look old. Yes, you too will come to empathize with the sentiments of Grandpa Abe Simpson who once claimed, "I used to be with it. But then they changed what 'it' was.' Now what I am with, is no longer 'it'." 

However, every so often, there are fads which become favourites and there they shall remain long after the peach kitchens have rotted. There is one food fad which has truly captured my baking essence, I loved it long before it become trendy for "foodies".

I loved it as a child when I used to put the buttered popcorn in my mouth at the same time as a handful of rich M&Ms.

I loved it as a child when I used to dip pretzels into ice-cream while receiving horrified stares. Side Note: apparently this is not so crazy when Ben and Jerry's "creates" it in the form of Chubby Hubby, then it is considered inspired...genius...revolutionary...I digress.

The trend of which I speak, the one that has captured the culinary world, is the combination of salty and sweet in baked goods and desserts. Think: salted caramel everything, salted malted choc chip biscuits and chocolate tarts topped with cracked sea salt. A match made in baking heaven. The salt enhances the rich, velvety taste of chocolate and the buttery burnt taste of caramel.

With thanks to the power of #trending, my obsession for salty-sweet has now become socially acceptable, which led to the creation of my slice, fondly nicknamed "Pretzel Caramel Chocolate Madness". No longer do I need to hide my pretzels deep in the ice-cream, feigning surprise when my spoon makes contact. No longer do I need to wait for a darkened cinema in order to covertly stuff popcorn and chocolate into my mouth simultaneously.

I have emerged out of the shadows and can now loudly, proudly declare that, "I am on a Pretzel Choc-aramel Trender Bender". 

Pretzel Base:

3 cups crushed salted pretzels (approx 250g grams)
1 tbsp caster sugar
170g salted butter, melted 

Chocolate Caramel Slice (adapted from Women's Weekly recipe)   

60g butter
395g condensed milk
2 Tbsp Golden Syrup
185g dark eating chocolate
2 teaspoons vegetable oil

Chocolate covered pretzels
  
 36-40 salted pretzels  (extra)
100g dark eating chocolate (extra)

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees Celsius. Line a 20x30cm rectangular tin with baking paper, extending the paper to hang 5 cm over the long edges of the tin.

Place the pretzels into a food processor and pulse until it resembles a fine crumb (a similar texture to crushing biscuits for a cheesecake base). Add the melted butter and sugar into the processor and continue to pulse until the mixtures comes together. Firmly press down the pretzel crumbs into the base of the tin, until it is evenly spread. Ensure that the base is compacted tightly in order to create a stable base that can be cut without cracking (using the base of a glass to press down the crumb is a useful strategy).
Bake the base for 15 minutes, then remove from the oven and allow to cool.  

Melt the 100g of dark chocolates and carefully dip the tops of 36-40 unbroken salted pretzels, laying them on baking paper to set at room temperature (do not put in the fridge or freezer as this will cause the chocolate to discolour). Set the pretzels aside and begin to work on the caramel chocolate slice.

Combine the butter, condensed milk and syrup in a medium saucepan; stir over a low heat until smooth (keep stirring to avoid the bottom of the mixture catching and burning). Pour the mixture over the cooled pretzel base and bake for about 15 minutes or until the caramel is golden brown. Set aside to cool.

Break the chocolate into a heatproof boil with the vegetable oil and microwave until melted and smooth. You will need to do this is 15 second bursts, stirring in between, to make sure that it does not burn. Spread the chocolate mixture over the cooled slice. Then carefully place the chocolate covered pretzels on top until the entire surface is covered.

Refrigerate for about an hour, until set, before using a hot knife to cut into pieces.

Enjoy the bursting sensation of salt and sugar as it trends across your taste buds.


This fad is by far an everlasting fav!    


   

   

Ginger & Jam cakes with Roasted Strawberries

Gingy Jammies

I have previously mentioned that baking is my calorific therapy. Observe:

When life gives me lemons, I make Lemon Curd.
When life makes me stressed, I invert it and make desserts.
I turn my frowns upside down by making Apple Turnovers.
I turn my woes into Whoopie (pies)
I transform my jams into Jammies! 


However, at times, my baking expeditions lead to unexpected revelations. In my quest to make Gingy Jammies (as I had envisioned them in my mind's eye) I used 8 hours, 4 punnets of strawberries, 3 batters and 1 amazingly patient friend. Before I go any further it is necessary to give you a brief insight into myself. I am no perfectionist. I thrive in organised chaos and I use the word "rustic" as a trendy band- aid to explain any meal served in foil, unfinished project or unexplained mess. So this is why no one was more surprised than I, that I drove myself to the brink of baking madness (think: covered head to toe in flour, repeatedly muttering "Ginger and berries and jam, oh my! Ginger and berries and jam, oh my!") in order to perfect these little loaves. Somewhere at the 4 hour mark, my dear friend (who had taken up the onus of washing the bowls in between failed attempts) looked at me and with a tone of solemn severity said "I would go to war with you".

It would appear that at some point this baking adventure had moved into the trenches and during the height of baking battle had revealed a steely determination deep within me, that had manifested itself in a slightly deranged fixation. The strawberry jam had become war paint, that was streaked combat style on my cheekbones. My wooden spoon had become a warrior's sword, that I thrust into the air, followed by my Braveheart-esque war cry of: "Never give up, never surrender!" With that, we pushed forwards through the heavy batter spattered front-line. Though the battle was arduous and the baking casualties high (with the sinking lows of cake centers), there was indeed a victory in the form of delicate ginger cakes with hearts of jam, topped with roasted lemon-lime strawberries.

There was another unexpected victory, an unseen bake-through. There it was; a realization that while I may be disorganized, messy and "rustic", when it counts, I can summon a stubbornness that defies logic and sanity. Now the challenge; bottle this mentality and apply generously to the pile of chores, washing and dishes in the sink!     



Roasted strawberries

1 punnet of Strawberries (leaves removed - they ARE poisonous)
2 tablespoons caster sugar
Zest of one lemon
Zest of one lemon

Slice the strawberries and place onto a lined baking tray. Sprinkle with caster sugar and grated zests. Allow them to sit for 5 minutes (or until you see juices starting to form). Then bake for 10 minutes uncovered at 200 degrees Celsius. Remove from the oven and set aside.

Ginger Tea cake 

120g margarine
1 cup caster sugar
2 eggs
4 tsp vanilla essence
2 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp mixed spice
2 cups self raising flour
1/3 cup maple syrup
1/3 cup pulp free orange juice
Strawberry Jam 

Lower the oven to 180 degrees. Line and grease and 8 hole mini loaf tin. After some messy disaster (see the war report above) I found the best way to line the tins for easy removal is to cut a strip of baking paper wide enough to cover the base and long enough to overhang the tray and come out the sides of the tin.

Cream margarine, sugar, eggs and essence for two minutes. Add the combined sifted flour and spices alternating with the mixed maple syrup and orange juice until finished (ending with the flour). Fill each mini loaf 1/3 full with batter. Then using teaspoons dollop two drops of jam on top of the batter (my tip is to avoid putting the jam in the center and rather aim for either end of the mini-loaf. This is because you want the cake to rise in the middle, if there is too much jam in the center, it will remain moist and sink when removed from the oven. This message is brought to you courtesy of two failed batches!) Using the remaining batter, carefully cover the jam and continue filling till the mini-loaf is 3/4 way full.

Bake for 15 minutes or until a skewer comes out clean (just remember the jam in the cakes and aim to test in the center to avoid a "strawberry jam bleed"!) Remove the cakes from the oven and leave them to rest in the tin for 5 minutes. Use a knife to loosen the two sides which are exposed to the tin and then grab the overhanging baking baking and life the cakes out onto a cooling rack.

Once the cakes are cool, and you are reading the serve them, spoon the roasted strawberries on top.
Enjoy these Gingy Jammies by jamming them in your mouth one forkful at a time! 

Baileys Cupcakes

Baileys Baked Shots

 

Despite the fact that I am not the worlds biggest drinker (alcohol or water for that matter) I do enjoy using the odd splash of liquor in my baking expeditions. Before I go any further, I have to confess: I have an unstoppable urge to provide a disclaimer with this post. I am unsure whether this urge is driven by having a lawyer as a husband, or by virtue of the fact that I am a teacher, but nevertheless here it is:

BAKEWRITE DISCLAIMER:  As per the Duty of Care Code (that all teachers live by) it is necessary to mention that this weeks baking daliance is rated R (Ridiculously good!) and should only be cupcake-slammed by people over the age of 18. Further, while these mini cupcakes last for days, as time wears on the alcoholic flavour tends to strengthen exponentially. So please, on day number four do not eat and drive, nor operate heavy Kenwood machinery.

Now we can safely (and legally) move on. Something I often forget to mention is that along with being an English teacher, I also like to travel to the past (and Bake To the Future) teaching children History. A common symptom of Historyitis Teachersorous (that is the Latin name of course) is that the person becomes fixated on discovering the origins of baked goods and ingredients. When designing my Baileys infused cupcakes, I began to ponder; why is it called "Baileys"? I began to imagine that perhaps, once upon a time, someone had drunk a lot of this Irish cream, landed themself in jail after some racous behaviour and had to be bailed out by a friend. Upon stumbling out of the lockup this person declared "Thanks for the bail-eeessss!" Thus, the name was born. 

Okay, so that sounded better in my head and with a loose theory in the bag I did what all good historians do, I began my exhaustive and comprehensive hunt into the dusty, mothball scented History archives (which started and ended in the same place: Wikipedia). The truth behind the name is far less fascinating than my dodgy imagination. In fact, like my tolerance to alcohol, the name "Baileys" is fictional and named after a less than reputable hotel.  

Really? 

Cue mass disappointment. 

One solution only: Time to drown my sorrows in another delectably naughty shot of baileys cupcake.  

Cupcakes:

250g butter, chopped
1 cup caster sugar
4 eggs

3/4 cup self-raising flour

3/4 cup plain flour

1/2 cup Baileys Irish Cream

Preheat the oven to 190 degrees. Line two mini cupcake trays with liners (the recipe makes about 40 mini cupcakes, that is a lot of shots of Baileys and should be consumed responsibly...one after another in fast succession of course!). Using an electric mixer, cream the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at time, making sure that you beat well after each addition. Sift flours together and using the mixer fold into the batter alternating with the Baileys Irish Cream (I find it is always best to end with the flour). Fill each cupcake case 3/4 way to the top (I just used teaspoons, but if you wanted to be accurate you could use a melon baller or small ice-cream scooper). Put the trays into the oven for 14-16 minutes until they turn light brown and bounce back when pressed gently in the center. Remove from the tin and put them onto cooling racks.

It is also possible to use this batter in cake from. To do this pour the batter into a 20cm round spring form tin and bake for 45 minutes.

Icing:

250g butter softened

3 cups sifted icing sugar

4 tablespoons Baileys

2 tablespoons cocoa powder 

Packet of malt balls (I used Maltesers)

In a mixer, beat the butter and icing sugar until the mixer is smooth. Note: if the butter is too cold it will form tiny bumps. If needs be, put the butter into the microwave for 5 seconds just to soften it, but be careful, you do not want it melted as this will change the consistency of the icing. Once the butter and icing sugar are smooth and creamy, add the Baileys and cocoa powder until fully combined. Once the cupcakes are cool, pipe* (or spread) a generous amount of icing onto each cake and top with a Malteser. 

Knock back these Baileys shots one delicious bite at a time!

*Side note: I have always been against piping. This is due to the fact that I have had some shocking experiences over the years (think exploding piping bags and icing on the floor, ceilings, myself and NOT the goods that was actually supposed to iced!) Recently my grandmother (aka: 91 year old baking Matriarch) gave me a cheap piping set from the supermarket...and it changed my life! While my icing is not perfect, I was pretty pleased for a first attempt and will now ice baked goods without hesitation and fear. My pipeline dream has become a pipeswirl reality!

 

Earl Grey and Lemon Drop Thumbprints

Lemon-Licious Biscuits

For the most part I am cookie loving, Shakespeare wielding English teacher. However, there has always been a tiny part of me that would like to become an adrenaline loving, notebook wielding detective who fights crime by day and makes souffle by night. I think this desire is driven by the misguided belief that I have a special gift in solving crimes. This fact is drawn from my experiences in the field (on couches and in cinemas) where I have an uncanny ability to pick the culprit and solve the crime 5-10 minutes into the film (please note that this "gift" has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that all films follow a generic story arc and often the director will let you sneak a peek at a beige, unsuspecting character who is later unveiled to be the mastermind. No. Rather I am an unskilled, unqualified detective extraordinaire!) Apologies, I digress. At university, while stoking the fires of my "gift" I took one lonesome unit in criminology, it was here I was introduced to the term racial profiling. As the name suggests, people's behaviour and criminality is assessed based on their external appearances, leading to prejudice in the criminal system.

Well get ready Inspector Gadget, I have a coined a new term: frucial profiling. Like racial profiling, certain fruits are judged harshly based on their appearances and classified accordingly. This form of discrimination extends, but is not limited to, lemons. Lemons get a bad rap in the fruit world, both in taste and colour. When a dish goes bad and the suspect ingredients are placed in a line up, the finger is always pointed at the lemon who is blamed and shamed for being sour and abusing it's fragrant power. In a best case scenario, the lowly lemon is used as a wing-man to make others look good and then denied any form of recognition ("What makes this basil, lemon chicken so delicious?" you ask. "Oh, it's the basil of course"). The lemon, is not petite like the blueberry or voluptuously sensual like the mango. It is not exotic like the lychee, nor is it plain enough to blend in, like the humble apple. The lemon, with its bumps, nobly bits and a skin colour that clashes with everything, has had to come to terms with playing second fiddle in the culinary world.
Until now.
These lemon-licious biscuits have changed the status of lemons worldwide. No longer does it hide in shame in the fruit and veggie aisle, avoiding the judgmental glares of frucial profilers. No. Now stands proud and triumphant as this baked creation brings out its inner beauty. With a heart of lemon gold, the creamy cheesecake filling is embraced by the delicate aroma of the Early Grey butter biscuits. As a new dawn hails for this forgotten fruit, so too does the official debunking of frucial profiling. Then again, perhaps not, as these innocent lemon drops are criminally delicious!

Earl Grey Biscuits

80g unsalted butter
1/3 cup castor sugar
2 TBS milk
1/2 tspoon vanilla essence
1 cup self-raising flour
1/3 cup custard powder
8 Earl Grey Teabags(optional; I prefer them with the Earl Grey infusion, but it is also yum if left out!)

Preheat the oven 180 degrees and line two baking trays. Beat the butter and sugar in a mixer, until the mixture turns pale in colour and creamy in texture. Add the milk and essence and continue to beat until combined. In a separate bowl sift the flour and custard powder. Break open the tea bags and pour the contents into the flour and powder until it is speckled evenly with the tea leaves. A note on the tea bags: in my humble opinion it is best to use cheap tea because the leaves have been ground to a fine powder as opposed to the more "authentic" expensive tea blends which have chucks of leaves that do not spread into the batter evenly. Once the flour is speckled by tea leaves, gradually add all the dry ingredients into the mixer, continuing to mix until it forms a soft dough.  Roll two teaspoonsful of mixture into balls and place on tray. Use your thumb or the end of a wooden spoon the cause an indent in each biscuits (while you don't need to be super gentle here, just make sure that the hole doesn't pierce the bottom of the biscuit. You will want to create a wide indent in the biscuit rather than a deep one. Though maths and general baking precision is not my strong point, you are aiming for an indent that is approximately 1cm deep and 2-3cm wide). Set the biscuits aside and make the lemon-licious cheesecake filling.

Lemon Cheesecake

250g light cream cheese
1/4 cup caster sugar
1/4 cup lemon juice
Rind of one lemon

In a mixer, cream the cheese and sugar until it becomes light and fluffy. Add the lemon juice along with the rind of one lemon (grated finally). In order to create a make shift piping bag, fill a zip lock bag with the cheesecake mixture pushing it down into the corner of the bag. Carefully snip the corner of the bag off (about 1/2 wide) and then gently pipe the mixture into the center of the biscuits, filling up the indentations. You can be quite generous in filling as the cheesecake tends to hold it's form.

Bake for 15 minutes and then move onto a cooling rack.