It probably looks like I haven't been cooking for the past month, when I have been. Constantly. Not only have I been cooking constantly, I have been cooking sweet things, which are usually the dominion of this blog. Poor, lonely blog. Every time I have cooked a sweet thing I have thought "I should really take a photo". But something in me just hasn't been able to reach into my pocket, pull out my iphone and seal the deal. I don't think that it's got anything really to do with the fact that the iphone went into the toilet recently. I still love that phone, perhaps now, even more. Because it survived the toilet and my electrolytes.
Since I am a lazy MF, I have decided to recount to you my Christmas cooking story. It's fairly heartwarming, with a few close calls and a happy ending, so you'll like it. If you know what's good for you. I don't have any photo's though, so I have scoured the web (done a perfunctory Google search) and come up with some approximations.
Each Christmas since 2010 - so that's two Christmases - my friend Sue and I have made some goodies for our book club. There is NO need to make some under the breath remarks about the book club or the baking - I am fully aware that I am in spinster Aunt territory and I am fucking enjoying it. This year Michelle joined us. She is decidedly not a spinster aunt, she is an awesome lawyer woman type, who is in the book club, yes that's right, and who likes to bake. I've made a point, now let's not labour it.
We arranged to meet at Michelle's place at 8am on Saturday morning. This was to give us ample time to make mistakes. We had Michelle's mother, a pastry chef, on fast dial - so that in the event of non rising, non browning, non setting, non- thingoing shenanigans we could call right away for some gourmet succour.
Menu: (bullet points - that's right, shit just got real)
If you care about that sort of thing - we used 70% Lindt cooking chocolate and when that ran out we used dark Ghirardelli. Michelle had a reassuringly large bag of that stuff.
The slice thing: this was a last minute addition. We usually set the menu early on and then stick to it. This year it was in flux right up to the week before. I found this recipe in a book by this NZ cook lady person, who is all blonde and organic and shit. Here name is Annabelle Langbein - she's famous there. Anyhoo, the recipe looked good. Let me formalise that, the basic concept of the recipe looked good. We weren't actually interested in any of the ingredients except the chocolate. I don't like maraschino cherries. They are disgusting. Here are the ingredients we used -
These are good ingredients and they like to party any old time of the day. The recipe was easy:
We added butter to this, because it didn't look like it was going to stay together and also it did that thing that chocolate does in the microwave. Became all bitty and weird, like you had said the wrong thing to it and it wasn't sure how to talk to you anymore. That didn't make a lick of difference. I squished it into the pan and we popped it into the freezer where it chilled out and worked on it's issues.
The Cardamon and Orange bickies were made a bit late in the day and unfortunately they went to pieces. I personally think that it was the pressure of the being the youngest child - Sue thinks that it was because we chose the wrong shape. Either way they were a bit of a disappointment. Like all youngest children.
The Pistachio nut brittle was a success, but in order for it to be a success, the toffee has to fail at first. I'm not sure why that is, but for some reason the toffee needs to not work the first time. Sue was watching it, like a hawk.
Bridgette: How's the toffee?
Sue: Fine at the moment
Michelle: Do you want to sit down?
Sue: No, I need to watch this.
Bridgette: It's starting to turn.
Sue: I know.
Bridgette: It's turning.
Sue: I KNOW.
Bridgette: It's looking a bit dark.
Sue: It will be fine.
Michelle: It's pretty dark
Sue: Maybe.. yes
Bridgette: Um...
Sue: Yes, it's burnt.
Michelle: Yes.
Sue: Oh well, it was never going to work anyway.
Bridgette: That's true. It's good to get it out of the way.
The second lot works perfectly and with no issues. Why? We don't know.
The truffles were the highlight IMHO. Michelle made the ganachey filling the night before and then we just dipped those suckers in dark chocolate.
They looked a lot like that actually. And they really were delicious. Michelle tempered the chocolate, it does something to it, I don't really understand, it's technical and there are drawings and things and a fuselage. But take it from me, they were good.
We wrapped them all beautifully -and expediently and then took them to the book club girls - here is the book club with a man friend:
One final word on the extraordinary table that Sue email to myself and Michelle. This table carefully laid out all the ingredients and who would be responsible for them. It was a monument to anal retention. It was a thing of great beauty, and I shall never forget it.
Since I am a lazy MF, I have decided to recount to you my Christmas cooking story. It's fairly heartwarming, with a few close calls and a happy ending, so you'll like it. If you know what's good for you. I don't have any photo's though, so I have scoured the web (done a perfunctory Google search) and come up with some approximations.
Each Christmas since 2010 - so that's two Christmases - my friend Sue and I have made some goodies for our book club. There is NO need to make some under the breath remarks about the book club or the baking - I am fully aware that I am in spinster Aunt territory and I am fucking enjoying it. This year Michelle joined us. She is decidedly not a spinster aunt, she is an awesome lawyer woman type, who is in the book club, yes that's right, and who likes to bake. I've made a point, now let's not labour it.
 |
| Sue, Me and Michelle. The madcap gang, together again. |
We arranged to meet at Michelle's place at 8am on Saturday morning. This was to give us ample time to make mistakes. We had Michelle's mother, a pastry chef, on fast dial - so that in the event of non rising, non browning, non setting, non- thingoing shenanigans we could call right away for some gourmet succour.
Menu: (bullet points - that's right, shit just got real)
- Chocolate, macadamia and raspberry slice thing (originally with cherries and God knows what else)
- Cardamom and orange biscuits
- Pistachio nut chocolate brittle
- Passionateness (I have left that there, because spell-check decided that I was probably trying to say "passionateness" as opposed to passionfruit - and I don't think that passionateness is even a word) and raspberry truffles.
If you care about that sort of thing - we used 70% Lindt cooking chocolate and when that ran out we used dark Ghirardelli. Michelle had a reassuringly large bag of that stuff.
The slice thing: this was a last minute addition. We usually set the menu early on and then stick to it. This year it was in flux right up to the week before. I found this recipe in a book by this NZ cook lady person, who is all blonde and organic and shit. Here name is Annabelle Langbein - she's famous there. Anyhoo, the recipe looked good. Let me formalise that, the basic concept of the recipe looked good. We weren't actually interested in any of the ingredients except the chocolate. I don't like maraschino cherries. They are disgusting. Here are the ingredients we used -
 |
| chocolatey yummy chocolate thing |
 |
| Lovely old dried raspberries |
 |
| macadamia nuts, the queen of the nuts |
These are good ingredients and they like to party any old time of the day. The recipe was easy:
- 350g best quality dark chocolate, chopped
- ¾ cup sweetened condensed milk
- 2 tsp vanilla extract
- ¼ cup icing sugar
- 1 cup lovely old dried raspberries
- ¾ cup of the Queen of the nuts.
We added butter to this, because it didn't look like it was going to stay together and also it did that thing that chocolate does in the microwave. Became all bitty and weird, like you had said the wrong thing to it and it wasn't sure how to talk to you anymore. That didn't make a lick of difference. I squished it into the pan and we popped it into the freezer where it chilled out and worked on it's issues.
The Cardamon and Orange bickies were made a bit late in the day and unfortunately they went to pieces. I personally think that it was the pressure of the being the youngest child - Sue thinks that it was because we chose the wrong shape. Either way they were a bit of a disappointment. Like all youngest children.
 |
| They didn't look anything like this. But still, let's recognise that I tried to give this a look and feel. |
The Pistachio nut brittle was a success, but in order for it to be a success, the toffee has to fail at first. I'm not sure why that is, but for some reason the toffee needs to not work the first time. Sue was watching it, like a hawk.
Bridgette: How's the toffee?
Sue: Fine at the moment
Michelle: Do you want to sit down?
Sue: No, I need to watch this.
Bridgette: It's starting to turn.
Sue: I know.
Bridgette: It's turning.
Sue: I KNOW.
Bridgette: It's looking a bit dark.
Sue: It will be fine.
Michelle: It's pretty dark
Sue: Maybe.. yes
Bridgette: Um...
Sue: Yes, it's burnt.
Michelle: Yes.
Sue: Oh well, it was never going to work anyway.
Bridgette: That's true. It's good to get it out of the way.
The second lot works perfectly and with no issues. Why? We don't know.
 | |
| That's Google's version of it. It looked a bit like that. |
The truffles were the highlight IMHO. Michelle made the ganachey filling the night before and then we just dipped those suckers in dark chocolate.
They looked a lot like that actually. And they really were delicious. Michelle tempered the chocolate, it does something to it, I don't really understand, it's technical and there are drawings and things and a fuselage. But take it from me, they were good.
We wrapped them all beautifully -and expediently and then took them to the book club girls - here is the book club with a man friend:
One final word on the extraordinary table that Sue email to myself and Michelle. This table carefully laid out all the ingredients and who would be responsible for them. It was a monument to anal retention. It was a thing of great beauty, and I shall never forget it.
What about the pillow fights in your underwear?
ReplyDelete