White Pants and Space Heaters

There is something inherently American about going to Target on Memorial Day. You almost feel like it's your patriotic duty to wander around a massive climate controlled space full of consumer goods you never knew you needed but suddenly do, and leave with fourteen shopping bags full of things like pencil cases with birds on them, body lotions made from Dead Sea mud, and economy packs of entree-portion-sized Tupperware containers. All of these things, incidentally, were purchased yesterday. Did I need any of them? No. Did I suddenly realise my life would be bereft without them? Yes indeed. 

Target is very soothing. And it was miraculously quiet for a Memorial Day afternoon, so Mum and I spent a happy time looking at greeting cards, running socks, cardigans, and (very excitingly) kitty litter. And yes, dear reader, we did get matching oatmeal heather bracelet sleeve cardigans. That's just how we roll. 

Outside of Target it was a fairly uneventful Mem Day. We missed the parade down Main Street due to the aforementioned Target expedition, and spent the majority of it drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. (Basic format of those days is one of us interrupts the other to read out a paragraph or quote, then gets told off for interrupting, then silence, then the roles are reversed. Repeat for several hours. Insert an occasional political name calling session or a fact challenge via Wikipedia.) 

As I may have mentioned, however, it was unseasonably cold. And by that I mean bloody freezing. To try on what was ostensibly a summer dress in Target I had to remove four layers of shirts/sweaters, then quickly decide it made my neck look weird before frantically pulling everything back on. And so the Memorial Day supper that should have been some sort of vegetarian barbecue or corn on the cob or something that screamed "summer is here it's finally here thank God" was instead something that Earnest Shackleton's men might have enjoyed in their tents on the sea ice. 

IT WAS STILL DELICIOUS. I want to stress that. It was amazing. But. Well. You'll see. 

MEMORIAL DAY SUPPER

FILLET OF COD WITH FRESH THYME SERVED OVER PARSNIP AND SPINACH MASH

My uncle hates cod. Chalk it up to growing up Irish, Boston Irish, and the son of a Boston Irish fisherman. I'm sure there was a hell of a lot of cod served in that house, and perhaps he overloaded. I, thankfully, do not suffer from that affliction, and nor does Mum. We LOVE cod. ESPECIALLY cod that is so fresh it doesn't even smell like fish, just of clean salt water and happiness. 

The object of my current affection.
So unassuming. So delicious. 

I also found parsnips which made me SO HAPPY. I have been craving parsnips for about a month now (other people crave chocolate, I crave parsnips, whatever you guys) yet have been unable to find good ones in any of the stores we normally go to. There must have been some kind of parsnip shortage (ps if anyone knows this is a real thing PLEASE TELL ME SO I CAN PREPARE A PARSNIP BUNKER FOR THE APOCALYPSE) because everything I looked at was totally not up to my standards. BUT ON SUNDAY THAT CHANGED. 

And so, armed with several plastic produce bags, I calmly purchased about 15 pounds of parsnips, smiling brightly at the bewildered 15 year old at the farm stand who clearly thought I was a mentalist. We'll be eating parsnips for a good long while. But you won't hear me complaining because it's rude to talk with your mouth full. 

And what better use for parsnips than mash? WHAT BETTER USE, DEAR READER?

The mash is a especially Beetle Friendly version, no olive oil, just steamed, mashed, and mixed with Thyme and salt and pepper. 

One thing to remember is that even though parsnips are closely related to carrots, they take A LOT LONGER TO COOK. I learned this the hard way one night when cooking for a friend and dinner was essentially breakfast because they were rock hard for ages and ages. Frankly speaking they need about half an hour. What I generally do, especially when I'm going to mash them, is cut them up pretty small and throw them in the steamer before I even get any of the other things out on the counter. Timing wise it almost always turns out for the best as everything is done together and then there's no moment of "oh this part is cold but this is tongue burning hot and I've failed at life." Avoid that if at all possible.

As they are steaming, line a baking sheet with tinfoil and spread the fish fillets out. Rub the surface with a little bit of olive oil and lots and lots of fresh Thyme. 

I once saw a recipe that said to cook the cod FOR 45 MINUTES IN AN OVEN SET TO 250 DEGREES. I swear the person who wrote that a.)was not a native English speaker b.) did not understand the Fahrenheit scale and c.) was potentially an escapee from a mental institution. THERE IS NO NEED TO DO THIS. Especially when it's super fresh like this, it should spend as little time as possible in the oven, otherwise you've ruined that just-caught-awesomeness. 

Cook it on the bottom rack of the oven at 450 for about 10 minutes. It should still be juuusssttt translucent when you pull it out. It's the difference between omgthisisthebestthingever and ehitsfinebutivehadbetterfishatmacdonalds.

Timing wise, when the parsnips came out of the steamer, the fish went in. I kept the water boiling under the steamer and added a few handfuls of baby spinach, which we all know just has to look at a pot of hot water and goes phlump. For the five minutes that that needed, I mashed parsnips like it was my job, adding thyme at various intervals, then took the spinach off the heat and threw that in. 

Parsnip and Spinach Mash dished out, waiting for a fish hat. 

Fish hat donned. 

I think I bought enough fish for 8 people. I cooked it all. There were no leftovers. I actually think that when I say to you that "I ate my weight in cod" I'm not being hyperbolic at all. I am speaking the truth. 

There were leftovers of the parsnips (I'm not totally disgusting, you guys, jeez) and last night I threw those in a saucepan with some carrot puree and a little water and made a thick and ridiculously delicious carrot parsnip soup. I know it's a winter vegetable. I know. But hey, a Beetle needs her beta carotene year round, right? I can't exist solely on lycopene until September, I'd die of . . .  I don't know. Something. I'm sure there's a House episode about someone who has an excess of lycopene and they don't figure it out until the last minute and save her. There has to be. 

In conclusion, I hope everyone had a delightful Summer Kickoff Weekend and is managing to live through the first day back in the office, and that we all get our sunshine and lazy days soon. I need some more freckles. 

Oh and hey, I almost forgot. The ultimate show of seasonal faith? I bought white pants yesterday. 

IT'S ON. 

A Weekend of Comfort Food

Happy Memorial Day guys! Happy "beginning of summer", Happy "it's ok to wear white below the waist now", Happy "summer Fridays if you work in publishing", and for the majority of you, Happy "today is the day to eat barbecue until you feel ill." I hope it's a delightful weekend all round.

So remember last week when I mentioned that "the weather has certainly been warm lately?" And posted a salad that said I was 90% sure summer was here? 

Well.

That was a bad idea.

Apparently, that insignificant comment was enough not just to anger the gods of New England weather, it was enough to infuriate them to the point that they sent HAIL. HAIL, YOU GUYS. Approximately four hours after I hit "Publish" the temperature dropped, and the rain started. The rain started on Tuesday night. Do you want to know, dear reader, when the rain stopped? It stopped on SATURDAY. IT RAINED WITHOUT CEASING FROM TUESDAY TO SATURDAY. AND IT WAS COLD. AND THERE WAS HAIL.

I mean.

I'm sorry.

We were driving back from Northampton on Wednesday night when the hail started. Because that's exactly where you want to be when a biblical hail storm begins. On 91 North. In a Honda Civic with 20,000 miles on it and bobo windshield wipers. We sheltered, Noah's Ark-like, under an overpass for a bit with the rest of a sad, bewildered, frightened humanity: a retired couple with an excitable bichon; a posse of very unhappy looking Hell's Angels;

Now allow me to explain that I actually really like rain. I'm one of those people. I love the sound of it tap tapping on windowsills, I love the smell of it, I love how everything becomes an extra intense green all of a sudden, and I absolutely LOVE the sky when the clouds are low and ponderous and slate gray. But rain from Tuesday to Saturday? And the fact that I had to pull out my crazy warm fleece blanket again (I so thought I had seen the last of it for a while)? And the fact that instead of afternoons on the porch, I was once again in double sweatpants fighting the cat for the space heater? And that fact that I wore MITTENS TO THE GROCERY STORE YESTERDAY? Yeah, not so fun. Add to that that both Mum and I have Reynauds (the non-fatal-lose-your-fingers-and-die kind ps it's hereditary so THANKS FOR THAT LOVE YOU TOO) and you are left with both of us looking increasingly like the witches from Macbeth, hunched over sinks of hot water desperately trying to rub blood back into our gnarled, eye-of-newt-looking hands.

So what I had initially planned (oh so naively, my years in Manhattan have clearly made me soft) as a weekend of light, sunny suppers and baking turned into a weekend of "HOLY CRAP MAKE ME SOMETHING WARM I AM SO COLD I WILL NEVER NOT BE COLD AGAIN AND BY THE WAY WILL IT EVER STOP RAINING."

MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND KICKOFF COMFORT SUPPER THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE GREEN AND LIGHT

ORECCHIETTE WITH SAUTEED TOMATOES, OLIVES, AND SAUSAGE

This was Friday night. The weekend kickoff dinner. We'd just gotten back from Maine and were a.) exhausted b.) starving and c.) so so so so cold. (You think Massachusetts sounds cold? Try coastal Maine. Try coastal Maine in cropped lavender summer-weight trousers. My fault but still.) We'd been up since 4am, hadn't eaten since coffee at 6am, and were pretty much shells of our former selves. 

Obviously we needed something crazy fast and crazy warming and filling. Mum disappeared into the shower and I pulled an Emergency Beetle and started to cook. I put an old episode of House Hunters International on TV and pulled out: 

• 1 small onion, chopped
• 1/2 cup black olives
• 4 stem tomatoes, quartered
• rosemary
• package of (veggie) sausages
• 1/2 pound Orecchiette
• olive oil, salt and pepper

The pasta takes about 11 minutes, so start the water boiling and whilst that is happening chop the onion, sausages, and tomatoes. 

As soon as the chopping is done, start the olive oil heating in the pan 

and add the onions. Add the rosemary a few minutes later and keep stirring. 

If you are using veggie sausages, they don't need to "cook" per se but you definitely want them nice and browned. So add those next with the olives.

Keep an eye on the water as this is going on, by this time it should be at the boil, so dump in the pasta when it's ready. 

The tomatoes will go in last because they cook in no time flat, but you do want them to start to blister on the sides, and, crucially, you want them to release all the juices in the awesome way that they do. 

After that it's just waiting for everything to finish cooking. Drain the pasta (you know how I feel about overcooking it so please don't do that) and mix it with a little olive oil. When the tomatoes have become all squishy and nice, you can turn that mixture out into a separate bowl. 

Pretty much by the time Mum came downstairs it was done, this is that fast of a supper. 

And nothing says "grab your legwarmers and the remote" like this does. 

There were definitely leftovers too. And the second night heated up is just as good as the first.
In case you were wondering. 

So yesterday was not as rainy but still insanely cold. The fun part was that it was BEST FRIEND FOREVER DAY and I love BEST FRIEND FOREVER DAY because, as you may have guessed, my bestest bud in the universe comes over and we engage in a ridiculously intense gossip session, make something yummy in the kitchen, and watch stupid and morally questionable television. Yes, dear reader, both of us will be 30 soon. Does this time management method seem appropriate? Why yes it does.

This Best Friend Day in question was a special one because I had promised her cookies as a "you graduated from Library School and are therefore quite smart" present. She chose Pumpkin Seed Cookies (she's a smartie, I told you) so we made those and then curled up to watch "I Found the Gown" which, if you've ever watched "Say Yes to the Dress" (of course you have), basically take that show and lower the tone about 50%. You're almost there.

It was, needless to say, an absolutely perfect BFFD.

BEST FRIEND FOREVER DAY BROWN BUTTER PUMPKIN SEED COOKIES

I made these a few weeks ago and so won't bore you with the recipe again. Suffice it to say that burnt butter still smells amazing, these cookies are still epic. And, yes, Mum STILL LOVES PUMPKIN SEEDS. I will never not be tired of reminding her of that.

BEETLE NOTES

There were a few differences this time. I used dark brown sugar because that's what we had and because of that they are, duh, much darker. They are also much flatter. I used the exact same amount of flour, but perhaps the dark brown reacted differently than light brown would? Or maybe the butter went into the rest of the batter much warmer than it did last time? Anyway, they are almost lace-like at the top. And very very dark and lovely.

They were still amazing. Many happy food noises were made over the course of the day. I gave some to Ralph our handyman/household guardian this morning. Hopefully he will like them. I gave him some blue cheese cornmeal biscuits last week, only to learn two days later that Ralph doesn't like blue cheese. I was gutted and humiliated and am now throwing baked goods at him in a completely craven and undignified manner.

The photographic embodiment of "you have been my best friend since we bonded over Jane Austen and  polka dot leggings in seventh grade and spent our orientation field trip noting how silly boys were and because of that we will be best friends until the end of time itself." 

Today, dear reader, at least the sun came out. IT'S A START YOU GUYS. However I am still wearing a boiled wool jacket over a hoodie sweatshirt. I'm inside the house. I hope that maybe by July 4th I will be able to wear only one layer. I CAN HOPE YOU GUYS. I CAN HOPE.

Tonight is Memorial Day Supper. Another warming comfort dinner to be eaten wearing double sweatpants next to the space heater. Awesome and delicious? Yes. Seasonally appropriate?

That's a complicated question.

If you need me before tomorrow, I will be sacrificing a baked bean and an ear of corn to the weather gods of New England and begging their forgiveness. And also putting on another pair of socks. 

The Challenges Continue, Garden Style

So remember where I said on Tuesday (after my Carrot Cake victory dance) that my next "I don't like that" food domino was Zucchini? And that I made a Zucchini cake?

Heh.

Mum's objections to "items baked with Zucchini" are borderline similar to those for "items baked with carrot." Removing the cream cheese frosting and raisin components, we're left with "too sweet" and "wet." And for the most part I'm on board with that. Anything snackish made with Zucchini, Squash, Pumpkin, or (heaven forbid because that stuff is GROSS) Banana (ughughughfest) are more often than not damp, saccharine, and odd.

They unfortunately tend to occupy the taste no man's land that lies halfway between the vegetable being used and an afternoon snack. And nobody wants to be in that no man's land. It's a bleak, gray, uncomfortable place, full of awkward chairs, sporks, lukewarm coffee, and those brown recycled paper towels that leave little bits all over your hands.

BUT

Riding high on my Carrot Cake victory, I decided to take Zucchini on. I have conquered the Pumpkin Seed mountain, I have destroyed the Carrot mountain. Am I ready for Zucchini? To that, I respond, dear reader, Am I a Warrior Beetle or not? OF COURSE I AM READY FOR ZUCCHINI. THE REAL QUESTION IS, IS ZUCCHINI READY FOR ME?

Btw do you know how hard it is to spell Zucchini? I have seriously misspelled and been corrected by spellcheck every single time I've typed it so far. If I was a mouse in one of those mazes I would be the one that kept going down the same corridor and getting shocked until they gave up on me and let me eat food pellets in peace till the end of my days.

And if you think about it, I'm really doing "snack items baked with vegetables" a favour. Because maybe there are other people who think like us (probability is low but still) and maybe they've held off from trying recipes like this because they think they will hate anything in that category. And maybe someday they'll come across this post (further reducing the possibility) and think "huh. why not give it a go?" and then they will be SO HAPPY when it works out and I will have given them a new lease on life.

So, for the one person who will, for the entirety of future time, fall into that category, you're welcome. I'm happy to help.

Ok so since I'm getting sick of spellcheck's totally condescending red squiggly line, and since this recipe is from BBC Food magazine and therefore uses the word "Courgette" instead of Zucchini, and since I can spell courgette with no difficulty whatsoever, I'm switching over as of this moment.

I present, dear reader, the next Beetle Culinary Challenge:

FROSTED COURGETTE AND LEMON CAKE

This recipe is in the same feature as the Carrot Ginger Spice Cake. The feature is called, charmingly Britishly, "Garden Bakes." Here's the link. The only recipe left to try in the feature is Beetroot Brownies. I'll get there eventually I promise, I'll just need a good long lie down first.

I don't know yet how this will go down, I frosted it this afternoon. But I will let you know. Lovely Librarians, a little Beetle Baker will drop this off for you tomorrow morning before you arrive. Sort of like the elves and the shoemaker except much better because shoes vs cake = no contest.

BEETLE NOTES

Look at the adorable little organic ones they had.
They are so very cute. 

Much like the carrot cake preparation, I decided when it called for grated courgette to peel them to bits and then chop roughly, seeds and all. I will say that this is deliberate because it makes it more chewy and fun to eat and healthier and less prissy, but in reality have you ever tried to grate a courgette? Exactly.

Voila the peels that will soon be chopped. 

Poppy Seeds aren't used enough I think, and obvs that's
because of the teeth situation, but really they are quite good. And pretty. 

Also fun was when I leant my body weight on the knife blade when the cutting side was on my hand instead of the cutting board and ow. Don't worry, the cake isn't a hazmat situation. It was just another one of those many "Stupid Beetle" moments.

One thing I was not prepared for was how completely watery the batter becomes when you mix in the courgettes. In retrospect, makes perfect sense because of course courgettes, like cucumbers, are mostly water. But all of a sudden I went "ohhhhh that's going to happen" and then I was fine. And once you add the flour it dries up nicely and everything goes back to normal. But be ready.

 As you can see above, the batter is GORGEOUS and so nice-smelling. There's A LOT of lemon in this thing, and once you add the courgette it's a very fresh, gardeny, summery smell, not sweet or cakey at all.

As you can see, fairly thin cakes. Slender cakes.
Svelte cakes, if you will. 

The recipe calls for something very British called a "sandwich tin" but whatever you guys that's the reason we left your island in the first place. I used two 9-inch cake pans. The amount-of-batter situation is the classic "too much for one cake pan" and "on-the-thin-side cakes when made with two" but I chose the latter. Plus when you do two layers a super fun and happy universe opens up. It's called WHAT TO PUT BETWEEN THEM?

Can you see where I'm going with this? 

EXACTLY. 

To be fair, the "anti cream cheese frosting" argument is valid here, because they indicate that you should make the very same. But, rebel beetle that I am, I decided to keep it light and non insane and put a thin layer of lemon curd between the layers (see photos) and then make a plain lemon icing, which wouldn't totally overpower the cake and would also reduce the feeling of "holy crap I just ate a massive piece of cake", something which is almost always triggered by cream cheese frosting.

Thus the lemon icing. 

I DID, genius Beetle that I am, invent the idea of mixing the icing with a bit more of the lemon curd. Which a.) makes it thicker and b.)how could it be a bad idea. 

I wanted it to drip down the sides a little but not completely drown it, so I spooned it in the center of the cake one spoon at a time and spread it out in circles (very soothing, spreading icing in circles) until it started to go over the edge. 

The view from the top. Note small lemon curd peels. 

So, dear reader, the last piece of carrot cake awaits the dessert trolley this evening. The Lemon Courgette cake will be up tomorrow night. Lovely Librarians, I expect you to weigh in as well. Hopefully this is the beginning of a new and incredibly exciting chapter of "GARDEN BAKES." One can only hold one's breath in gleeful yet terrified anticipation. And eat more cake.

A Salad that says "I'm 90% sure summer is here."

Before I launch into summer salad discussion, a VERY IMPORTANT MATTER must be addressed. You guys, it's time for

CARROT CAKE UPDATE

Carrot Cake Update: NAILED IT. 

She loves it. She freaking loves a piece of carrot cake. I've only been waiting, oh, 15 years for this moment. It's glorious. Utterly glorious.

She would like me to explain to you all that it's not that she's been converted. Not so fast. She likes MY carrot cake. Not OTHER WET AND SWEET CARROT CAKE WITH RAISINS. But MINE. So there you have it. Nailed. It. Beetle Victory Dance. La la la la la.

And she had ANOTHER piece of it last night for dessert. I asked her from the top of the staircase what she was going to have and she said "carrot cake" and I, graciously, natch, said OMG ARE YOU HAVING MORE CARROT CAKE DO YOU LIKE CARROT CAKE I THOUGHT YOU DIDN'T WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?

And she did this:

So, dear reader. Pumpkin Seeds down. Carrot Cake down.

She also hates Zucchini Bread and/or cakes.

Guess what I made this afternoon.

IT'S ON. 

OK ON TO SALAD.

Yesterday was significant in that I spent almost the entire thing on the porch. It was also significant for the fact that for a few hours I wore just a tee shirt and not a cardigan inside the house.

(It was also significant for the fact that somehow I managed to get "colour" to the point of a pinkish nose whilst on said porch. Ostensibly in the shade. Just call me Beetle Cullen.)

These things combined have led me to the conclusion (albeit in an I'm-in-New-England-so-all-weather-bets-are-off kind of way) that summer (spring? did we have spring?) has arrived. I'm pretty sure of this. It could still snow tomorrow. It's happened before. But in true Yankee fashion I will say that "the weather has certainly been quite warm lately."

There.

Further supporting this theory is the fact that we had a 10 minute thunderstorm this morning. It was completely unexpected and totally awesome. Thunderstorms = signs of summer. Also Thunderstorms = things I love.

I know it's not Memorial Day yet (hell my white dresses are still FIRMLY in the back of the closet and WILL NOT EMERGE UNTIL MONDAY) but, again, "the weather has certainly been quite warm lately."

When I opened the fridge to make dinner last night, I realised that Broccoli was going to be the vegetable of choice. (There's actually a scary amount of broccoli in our fridge for some reason, I don't remember how it got there, I think Mum is secretly buying it in bulk when I'm not looking. That and endive. And lemons. What can I say. She's a strange duck.) However, what to make with Broccoli that would be, ahem, "summery"? I wanted something bright and green that could be served a room temperature, maybe even on a porch. (!!) Something light and clean and fresh.

Something that was the culinary equivalent of "the weather has certainly been quite warm lately."

Then I remembered the Edamame.

ALMOST-SUMMER SALAD OF BROCCOLI AND EDAMAME

Edamame is awesome for the following reasons:

1. Protein protein protein! 
2. It's GREEN
3. It's delicious
4. It can be eaten in an inexplicable-yet-true posh way sucked out of its own pod (seriously think about that for a minute nobody looks attractive doing that and yet it's become a staple restaurant appetizer and then you're left with this gross dish of sucked out pods I mean I do it all the time I always order it but I'm just saying if you stop and think about it for a minute it's totally bizarre that it's reached such gastronomic mainstream heights)
5. IT'S GREEN
6. It can be served hot or cold
7. Seasoning wise, it can go Asian or European. It takes equally well to ginger and tamari as it does to sage and rosemary.
8. IT'S GREEN
9. Mum loves it. Freaking loves it. 
1. Ok she loves it shelled. I first introduced her to Edamame at Ippudo in New York, and she was hella suspicious until she tried it and then proceeded to eat the whole bowl. But she feels the same way I do as expressed in point 5. 
2. Also, I gotta say, adding it to dishes is of course completely impossible if it's not shelled. 
3. Also, since she's not crazy about tofu in its standard form, this is a good way to get her to eat protein. 

So. Presenting the simplest, quickest, "maybe it's getting warmer" salad in the history of the world. 

There are three ingredients here:

• 1 head of Broccoli, floret-ed
• 1 bag of frozen (ahem, shelled) Edamame
• 1 small onion, diced

Ahem, the "directions" if you can call it that are as follows:

Either de-thaw the Edamame or if you are being a gangster cook like me throw it in the microwave to speed up the process. 

Heat some olive oil in a pan, add the onion and the broccoli, cook for about 10 minutes until the broccoli is tender and starting to get squishy but still bright green (keep it on the firm side for this one)

Combine. 

That's seriously it you guys. I'm actually kind of embarrassed to be posting this because I feel like I didn't do anything. But it was so pretty. And so fast. And after a weekend spent surrounded by biscuits, whipped cream, and confectioner's sugar, I seriously needed a savoury green fix. I thought about adding herbs, or black olives, but in the end kept it as simple as possible. 

I had made Spelt Bread earlier that morning, so all that was left was to slice that sucker up nice and thick, dish everything out, and tuck in.

Or as Mum said:

Oh I say! Come to Tea?

HIGH TEA

Puff Pastry Nests with Tomatoes, Rosemary, and Goat Cheese

Blue Cheese Cornmeal Biscuits

Carrot Ginger Spice Cake with Lemon Icing

Sponge Drops with Whipped Cream, Raspberries, and Blackberries

Cheese (Blue, Cheddar, Camembert) and Crackers

Almonds, Dates

(and obviously tea, lots of it)

When I gave you Blue Cheese Cornmeal Biscuits the other day, I promised you Carrot Cake and the Sponge Drops. Without further ado.

Remember the Pumpkin Seed Cookies? The impetus behind those was to prove to Mum that she does indeed like Pumpkin Seeds. This was accomplished with bells on. There was an awesome beyond awesome moment last weekend when I paused by the nut and seed section in the store and yelled "HEY SHOULD WE BUY SOME PUMPKIN SEEDS DO YOU LIKE PUMPKIN SEEDS I CAN'T REMEMBER?"

Then this happened:

And I put a package of pumpkin seeds in the cart looking SO SMUG I think I actually might have pulled a jaw muscle. It was EPIC.

Anyway, carrot cake falls into the same category that pumpkin seeds used to. I find all these recipes for carrot cake and say "oooo doesn't that look yummy" and she sniffs and says: "I don't like carrot cake it's too wet and it always has raisins in it and the frosting is always so thick and it always tastes too sweet and people always make muffins out of it and I hate muffins how can people eat muffins for breakfast I mean if you want to make it go ahead I'd just rather have something else."

CARROT GINGER SPICE CAKE

BEETLE NOTES
The recipe I used was from BBC Food magazine, they call it a Zesty Carrot Ginger Loaf.  I did have to convert from metric but that's what the Internet is for. It's quite easy, all made in one saucepan and poured, still warm, into the pan. They said loaf pan but I decided it would look prettier in a 9-inch cake pan.

When they say "zesty" what they mean is that it's got lemon zest, orange zest, black pepper, and stem ginger in it. Which sounds amazing. It also has Muscovado Sugar (see photo) in it, which is amazing sh*t. I made spelt gingersnaps with it once and they were BLACK I kid you not. Delicious. And black. I always know I'm in good recipe hands when I see Muscovado. It means business.


The British always use golden syrup which is vaguely difficult to come by over here, so I used dark agave. I also used molasses instead of dark treacle because I decided that they could be the same thing for that particular period in time. And then because of pantry supply issues, I used 4 tsp of ginger marmalade instead of stem ginger. Rebel, that's me.

I kept the grated carrot pretty rough. Essentially I peeled a few carrots into oblivion and then chopped up the peels as small as I could. I wanted  proper chunks of carrot in there. I mean, go big or go home, right?

When all was said and done:

Not bad looking batter. 

 But here's the kicker. The tea guests all said it was delicious. But do you know why I can't include Mum's opinion here? Because she didn't try any. 

You guys. WTF. 

I will let you know what she says if I have to tie her to the sofa and force it down myself. Stay tuned.

SPONGE DROPS

I started out thinking I'd make Strawberry Shortcakes. But at the last minute, I decided that I'd just made blue cheese biscuits and shortcakes just seemed a bit too similar and I have standards, you guys. So flipping through Nigella Lawson's Domestic Goddess cookbook, I came upon the perfect accompaniment for Whipped Cream and Berries. Sponge Drops!



INGREDIENTS

• 2 eggs
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 1/3 cup self raising flour
• 2 tbs cornstarch
• 1/2 teaspoon baking powder

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. 

Lightly whisk the eggs, then add the sugar and whisk again until the mixture becomes pale, creamy and voluminous: use an electric beater of some sort here.
Sift in the flour, cornstarch, and baking powder, and fold them in with a metal spoon.
Spoon teaspoon sized amount onto the baking sheets, leaving room between them so they can spread.
Cook for 5 minutes, then remove them with a metal spatula to cool on a rack.
When they are cool, sandwich them with whipped cream, jam and crushed berries.

BEETLE NOTES

See the sponginess? DO YOU SEE IT?

This was another one that I doubled right away because there were enough people coming that I knew I'd need more. It made a hell of a lot of sponge drops. Not a complaint, just an observation.

I think the crux of this recipe is the whipping of the eggs and sugar. You really do need to let the mixer go for a while. When she says "pale, creamy and voluminous", that's what she means. Otherwise they won't be spongy  Which. Point. So what I essentially did was turn the mixer on, put a load of laundry in, carry a card table to the side porch, put some dishes away, etc, checking every once in a while but letting it go for a decent time. And that I think is why these turned out so well. So let your mixer run free, everyone.

Also when she says 5 minutes, she means 5 minutes. They will burn. I know this. Mum's "special cookie plate" knows this. Set the timer, take 'em out.

Other than that, really easy, really quick, and you have delicious spongy  lighter-than-air, THINGS that you can make into jam and whipped cream sandwiches. How is that not awesome? It's especially good because it's much lighter than a shortcake (duh, obvs) which I think makes it a better berry accompaniment, and it's definitely not as filling (they are predominantly air).This one will be used a lot come summer, methinks.

Beetle Note: I secretly suggest getting a bowl of whipped cream and crushed berries, and just using the sponge in place of a spoon. Go on. You can tell them I told you to.


Then at the last minute I realised I needed another savoury, so in a classic Last Minute Beetle move, I grabbed a package of frozen puff pastry shells from the freezer, threw them in the oven for 10 minutes until the rose a bit, stuffed them with sliced cherry tomatoes, rosemary sprigs, goat's cheese, and a little olive oil, and threw them back in the oven for another 10. And then I named them Puff Pastry Nests with Tomatoes, Rosemary, and Goat Cheese, because I could.



Refined? No. Michelin star? No. Cute and fast? Yes.

So that, dear reader, is High Tea. As you can see from the photos, I finally settled on a table configuration of savouries (biscuits, nests) on one table and sweets (cake, sponges/berries/cream) on another, and the cheese and cracker and date and almond plate in the middle.










If this was TOTALLY wrong and I've offended some sensibility I don't know about, please accept my heartfelt apologies. 


All in all, it was a delightful afternoon, and one I hope will be repeated many times this summer.