It's Christmas time.
Oh yes people, in the culinary world, this time is spent making mincemeat, Christmas cake and Christmas puddings. Basically all good domestic goddesses are buying dried fruit and mixed peel by the truck load. The people with any good sense just buy the lot from Marks and Sparks but I like to get a little festive in the kitchen. The Christmas Food magazines have already been scooped up from my doormat.
Have I mentioned that I HATED my Home Ec teacher (don't worry, the feeling was mutual)? Well, the ONLY good thing we ever did in our class was making a Christmas cake. It was warm and cosy and the old bitch even put on a tape of Christmas songs. We made it months in advance and kept feeding it alcohol every so often and then we got to design the cake decorations. I think there was some competition. I made an igloo out of icing and had father Christmas' legs coming out of the little entrance tunnel. I loved it.
Last Christmas ( *I gave you my heart* Ahem) I decided it would be fun to make some hampers. I made chutney, Christmas cakes, cranberry and white chocolate cookies etc. All to save money and make the presents personal. Well, it actually ended up costing a fortune, was pretty stressful and I still have jars of bloody chutney in my cupboards. This year I have decided to focus on one project (and give people gifts they actually want) and this year, I am making a Christmas cake. A big square one.
First of all, I had to decide on the recipe. My recipe books are full of Crimbo recipes, as are all the magazines I have bought over the years and keep coming through my letterbox every month. Every book I opened was different, they varied A LOT. This one used almonds, that one used rum, this one used dried cranberries and this one used figs. It was so confusing. I started to feel like Dumbo when he gets drunk but instead of pink elephants I was seeing marching mince pies and talking fruit cakes. I eventually resolved that there were three ladies I could trust. Do I go with the traditional (some would say original) DG Mrs Beeton or do I want a sexy Christmas cake and opt for DG Nigella? Or do I go to the mother of all DG's, Delia. It had to be Delia didn't it? So, I went to Sainsbury's with her recipe in my paw, picked out the finest dried fruit I could finD and set to soaking it over night. Here is where I totally diverted from the recipe. I'm sure she wouldn't encourage it (Nigella probably wouldn't of minded) but instead of Rum I went with Cherry Brandy. It was all I had. And cooking is all about having the confidence to stray and find your own way. So there we go.
The next day I was meant to finish the cake but I was busy so the fruit got a longer soaking. It just meant they were plump with alcohol, no worries there! The cake did eventually get made and the house was filled with the smell of nutmeg, cinnamon and sugar. The scent of those Christmas spices are so magical. It could be the height of summer, and I smell cinnamon and nutmeg and I am instantly Christmas shopping, bags full, nose and cheeks red with cold, Canterbury Cathedral lit up and the steamed up windows of Casey's pub as I walk by, the drinkers inside warming themselves and having a good time.
I will keep you updated on the cake. I am still not used to taking pictures of my culinary endeavours but I will make a concerted effort to include some during the decorating process.
Oh yes people, in the culinary world, this time is spent making mincemeat, Christmas cake and Christmas puddings. Basically all good domestic goddesses are buying dried fruit and mixed peel by the truck load. The people with any good sense just buy the lot from Marks and Sparks but I like to get a little festive in the kitchen. The Christmas Food magazines have already been scooped up from my doormat.
Have I mentioned that I HATED my Home Ec teacher (don't worry, the feeling was mutual)? Well, the ONLY good thing we ever did in our class was making a Christmas cake. It was warm and cosy and the old bitch even put on a tape of Christmas songs. We made it months in advance and kept feeding it alcohol every so often and then we got to design the cake decorations. I think there was some competition. I made an igloo out of icing and had father Christmas' legs coming out of the little entrance tunnel. I loved it.
Last Christmas ( *I gave you my heart* Ahem) I decided it would be fun to make some hampers. I made chutney, Christmas cakes, cranberry and white chocolate cookies etc. All to save money and make the presents personal. Well, it actually ended up costing a fortune, was pretty stressful and I still have jars of bloody chutney in my cupboards. This year I have decided to focus on one project (and give people gifts they actually want) and this year, I am making a Christmas cake. A big square one.
First of all, I had to decide on the recipe. My recipe books are full of Crimbo recipes, as are all the magazines I have bought over the years and keep coming through my letterbox every month. Every book I opened was different, they varied A LOT. This one used almonds, that one used rum, this one used dried cranberries and this one used figs. It was so confusing. I started to feel like Dumbo when he gets drunk but instead of pink elephants I was seeing marching mince pies and talking fruit cakes. I eventually resolved that there were three ladies I could trust. Do I go with the traditional (some would say original) DG Mrs Beeton or do I want a sexy Christmas cake and opt for DG Nigella? Or do I go to the mother of all DG's, Delia. It had to be Delia didn't it? So, I went to Sainsbury's with her recipe in my paw, picked out the finest dried fruit I could finD and set to soaking it over night. Here is where I totally diverted from the recipe. I'm sure she wouldn't encourage it (Nigella probably wouldn't of minded) but instead of Rum I went with Cherry Brandy. It was all I had. And cooking is all about having the confidence to stray and find your own way. So there we go.
The next day I was meant to finish the cake but I was busy so the fruit got a longer soaking. It just meant they were plump with alcohol, no worries there! The cake did eventually get made and the house was filled with the smell of nutmeg, cinnamon and sugar. The scent of those Christmas spices are so magical. It could be the height of summer, and I smell cinnamon and nutmeg and I am instantly Christmas shopping, bags full, nose and cheeks red with cold, Canterbury Cathedral lit up and the steamed up windows of Casey's pub as I walk by, the drinkers inside warming themselves and having a good time.
I will keep you updated on the cake. I am still not used to taking pictures of my culinary endeavours but I will make a concerted effort to include some during the decorating process.
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