Last week was the culmination of a hectic few weeks at work, I wanted to bake to celebrate and commiserate that we’d come out the other side (mostly) unscathed. As you will see, it took a wee while to get the scones on the table:
· Roast pumpkin for scones on Tuesday evening, (it needs to be cool to make them), dug out tried and tested recipe for the morning.
· Went to make scones on Wednesday morning, (the day after a large meeting). However, Peanut woke up late and with a temperature, so I stay home with him.
· Went to make them on Thursday morning, no flour. Brought flour after work
· Friday morning, get ingredients out, oven on – let’s do this!
· Butter and sugar do not want to mix together, spray sugar around kitchen using electric mixer.
· Resort to wooden spoon, pound the be-jeepers out of it.
· After cat does the tread-shake-tread-shake walk in disgust and I get sugar all over my socks, sweep floor.
· Add rest of ingredients, mixing and mixing, very wet batter, add more flour.
· Try to knead on bench, add more flour (must now be up to twice as much as called for in the recipe).
· Attempt to separate into scone shape scones, give up.
· Scrape batter off bench, with a spatula, and throw place into baking tray.
· Maybe cry a little.
· Now have run completely out of time, so take baking tray in the car to cook at work.
· Put the oven on at work for morning tea. Begin to cook what other people at work think is a shepherd pie.
· 10 minutes in, test with knife.
· 10 more minutes in, test with knife again.
· 5 more minutes in, someone else is using the oven, move my tray up to the top shelf, set greaseproof paper on fire.
· How many engineers does it take to watch and English bird squashing flames out with oven gloves around a baking dish?
· Present scones with home-made apricot and peach jam, raspberry and double cream.
· Luckily, they taste amazing, if a little rustic looking.
Today I had two brownish bananas so I made banana bread, I ran out of self-raising flour. So added some plain, some coconut and a bit of bicarb and crossed my fingers. Again, it was rustic, but yummy. Makes me laugh to think that my old home economics teacher Mrs Hughes thought I could be a pastry chef. I neither have the patience, nor the inclination to faff-ar$e around with making everything look just ‘so’. I do love cooking, but presentation is not my forte.