Bit of an unusual day yesterday in that I had the urge to do some baking.
That’s unusual on it’s own but even more so due to the fact that I’ve had a major dose of lurgy (thanks for that, clingon no.1 ) and have been miserably sneezingly and coughingly, (quite often at the same time), splutteringly, freezingly, boilingly, headachingly, eardrum itchingly (is that only me or does anyone else get it as an early warning signal?) nose runningly, cotton wool brainingly and sore throatingly struggling through the week.
Most of yesterday I spent weak as a kitten on the settee, groaning and waiting to death to release me before my 4pm appointment with a wedding couple. Lemsipped up to the eyeballs I managed to get through that meeting without being too obviously ill.
We’d made plans for Lashes and Len to come over for tea (dinner, to you posh folks). My common sense head told me it was a stupid idea but my over ambitious, lemsipped brain whispered, ‘Nah, go on, it’ll be ok.’
So this is where the baking comes in. “I’ll make some brownies for pudding, that’s a nice easy dessert.”
I got a recipe from the internet, gathered all the ingredients together and set about weighing. Oopsie. My brilliant retro scales that I got at Samlesbury Hall last year measure in pounds and ounces and my recipe was in grams.
I know it’s an easy conversion, even for a mathsophobe like me. 28 grams to 1 ounce. Round it down to 25 grams and Bob’s yer uncle. Easy, everything works, right?
I stood and scratched my brain trying to work it all out, writing it down and getting Boofuls to check my conversions were correct. Yup, I know I could have looked on the internet or got a calculator- cotton wool brain, remember?
Boofuls, ‘Mr Maths is is fun’ looked. Scratched his brain trying to work it out.
It just didn’t seem right. 65 g flour, 250 g butter, Huh? 360 grams sugar 360? Hang on 360 g that’s …*works out on fingers, not enough fingers so removes shoes and socks*…..That’s over 12 ounces! That can’t be right!!
We worked it out again. And again, And again. I double checked the recipe.
Bloody hell! It’s all fat and sugar!
Oh well, I’m bored with it now, let’s go for it. Mixing it all together and shoving it in the oven I had no high hopes of it turning out nice at all but I was really past caring.
What I expected to find when I opened the oven door at the end of the prescribed cooking time was an unctuous, claggy mess of greasy, chocolatey goo.
What came out of the oven was a crispy on top, gooey in the middle dish of chocolatey goodness. I couldn’t believe my eyes – if only I could taste anything I’m sure it would have been delicious.
The hhhm’s around the table when I served it were a good sign. None got left.
So, now that I know exactly what goes into these things I most definitely won’t be making them again. They’re tasty little squares of obesity and heart attacks waiting to happen!
What happened to the good old formula for cakes we learnt in school. 2 z fat, 2oz sugar 4oz flour. That I can handle.