Jammy Devils, from Nanny Ogg’s cookbook are delicious. They’re a bit like jam tarts, but there’s less jam and the pastry case is much more substantial, more biscuity, slightly cakey and has jam rippled through it.
I really like jam, so I should really like jam tarts, but I much prefer jammy devils. I think it’s because jam tarts are not far removed from simply eating jam direct from the jar, but eating jam from the jar is so much less trouble. There’s a bit more to jammy devils that differentiates them from the direct method of jam-eating.
I was feeling too tired to bake this afternoon, but D reminded me of my intention to do so and then I felt obligated to follow through. I’m sure I will feel glad of doing so in due course, but right now my feet hurt.
They might look a little burnt, but they are delicious.
It can be really easy to be distracted by the noise in a set of data. A great set of charts for looking at the day-to-day changes in the Arctic Sea-Ice is maintained by Neven, and I often find myself checking this on a daily basis. Fun as it is to follow the weather-driven ups and downs of the sea-ice, I decided that I wanted to create a chart that would remind me of the bigger picture: the inexorable, global-warming driven decline in sea-ice.
Oh lordy. I’ve moved, which means that I’ve been filling my days with packing and throwing out stuff. I have managed to fit the odd bit of cake vs death action in, but the documentation has fallen by the wayside. Now I start to catch up on another chance to choose between cake, or death!
Chocolate Almond Macaroons, by Linda Collister (p64, chocolate).
These macaroons are one of my favourite recipes. In the recipe it is intended to make a sort of chocolate truffle and sandwich two of the macaroons together, but I’ve never gone to that level of effort, finding that one macaroon is quite sufficient as it is. This might be related to the quantity of almond essence that I add, somewhat in excess of that recommended, making these macaroons more about the taste of almond than as as a chocolate sandwiching device.
This time I did experiment by following the directions in the recipe to flatten out the macaroons before baking for half of my macaroons. This produced macaroons that were more crunchy, and perhaps biscuit-like, than those I normally produce, which have a slightly gooey and chewy centre.
Everyone preferred my way.
Death by Euphoria
Given the sugar content of these macaroons, and their blissful taste, it might be thought that they would be involved. But, oh no. This death is generally about using pharmaceuticals to create uber-humans, but positing the scenario whereby such uber-humans will become so immune to anything unpleasant, by using pharmaceuticals to effectively wish such feelings away, that society will sort of disappear in a haze of not being bothered.
I found this chapter genuinely scary.
In many respects this future is here already, and there’s immense societal pressure to use pharmaceuticals to overcome temporary physical or mental weakness. The adverts for stimulants such as red bull, or even lemsip, are quite chilling when you consider the sorts of mind-meddling drugs that are on the horizon.
I still have cake left that I baked at the weekend so it’s another chance to choose between cake, or death!
After this edition of cake-or-death I am up to date, so I’m open to suggestions for the cake to welcome D and R with next weekend.
Candidate Number Two, attempting to recreate my mother’s carrot cake.
I have certain vivid memories from my childhood. Crawling through the long grass of our back garden, pretending that our cat was a tiger and we were in a jungle. Being scolded by my mother for trying to argue that a “couple of biscuits” might mean three. Running into my bedroom in the evening for fear of something in the darkness leading to the attic behind me, and rushing to close the curtains to banish the Cylons in the window. And my mother’s carrot cake. Dense. Dark. Carrotty. Completely devoid of walnuts, cream cheese frosting, or all the other daft things that afflict every single carrot cake recipe I have subsequently been able to find.
My mother doesn’t have the recipe she once used, and barely remembers the cake to which I refer. And so I am bound to a quest, to iterate upon a recipe until I reach one that matches my idealised memory. This is candidate number two in that quest, and it goes like this:
225g butter creamed with
half as much sugar to which add
2 beaten eggs
225g grated carrot
225g wholemeal flour
1 tsp ground cinnamon
half tsp ground nutmeg
Unsurprisingly I messed up again and completely forgot to add any baking powder. Duh. It was baked at 160C (in a fan oven, so 180C otherwise) for one and a quarter hours. Once the excess butter had dripped off, and it had matured for a couple of days, it really wasn’t that bad.
It’s really interesting that the cake is now tastier to eat, on day four, then on the day it was fresh from the oven. Leaving out baking powder wasn’t such a terrible plan, the density is good, but I think in the next iteration I will add just a little. There is too much butter/not enough of the other ingredients. The smell of the spices was really exciting when I took the cake out of the oven, but I can’t taste them in the cake. Is there enough carrot? I’m not sure…
The risk of death here comes from terrorists constructing a nuclear dirty bomb, or a chemical/biological device for killing either a large number of people, or creating vast amounts of panic and disruption. Once again scientists are cast as the bad guys:
… it only takes a competent chemist to create vats of a toxic nerve agent, and there are plenty of competent chemists in the world… If the question is whether a dirty bomb will one day go off somewhere, spreading radiological, chemical or biological material, then the answer has to be yes. It only takes a patient, skilled scientist to prepare the equipment and the active ingredient.
However, Alok Jha concludes that this is a death that doesn’t have the potential to bring about the end of civilization. And that is undoubtedly correct. Civilization can survive vast industrial wars, so even scientifically-trained terrorists can’t put it at threat. Still, if a scientist you know starts to show an unhealthy interest in caesium-137, castor oil production, smallpox, anthrax (and light aircraft) or botulinum (and milk) it might be worth baking some cake while you still can.
It was another weekend, and thus another chance to choose between cake, or death!
This instalment of cake-related decision making happened some time ago, but I was so upset by my pie that I delayed writing about the experience.
St Clements Meringue Pie, from Perfect Cooking by Marguerite Patten.
This isn’t the first time. My meringue pies have gone wrong before. The recipe states: “Stir over a gentle heat until thickened.” Either I’m not patient enough, my heat is too gentle, or my cornflour is defective because it never thickens. This then means it is fiendishly difficult to plonk the meringue on top, because it just wants to sink into the runny fluid underneath. This time, worse was to come.
Clumsily, I managed to spill much of the runny liquid onto the floor as I was placing the pie into the oven. I spent ages over that runny liquid! It just went over the floor!
It was still tasty. And the pastry in this recipe is fantastic. But, the disappointment. The regrets. I have unfinished business here.
Mutually Assured Destruction
Lots of nuclear weapons. Everyone dies. Except they don’t – surely nobody would be that mad! Oh, well, all sorts of people have nukes now, and some of them are definitely mad. And possibly not many nukes would be enough to finish us off, because of the dust, leading to a nuclear winter. The scientists said so.
Did I mention that the scientists are evil. Evil! Alok Jha really seems to not like scientists. He says:
Once the principle of this devastating bomb had been demonstrated, however, it was only a matter of time before scientists around the world would want to come up with their own versions.
Uh-huh. So, nuclear proliferation is entirely the fault of scientists wanting to play with their nuclear physics toys, and nothing whatsoever to do with power games by dictators, military leaders and politicians with a liberal arts education.
Cake or Death – what is your* choice?
* I think I’m leaning to Death this time, because I’m a scientist and I’m evil! Also, the pie was so disappointing…