A few months ago, gripped by baking fever, I purchased Mary Berry's Baking Bible. I quickly decided to embark upon a mission to bake everything in the book, and turn myself from an occasional baker into a bit of an expert. My Grandad Ern was a Master Baker by trade; the man responsible for introducing Danish Pastries to England in fact, and I wish it had occurred to me to spend more time learning from him, rather than simply enjoying the fruits of his effortless labours. This project is almost a way of making amends for that; I'd like to follow in his footsteps (if not in my career, at least as a hobby) and continue the proud heritage of baking in my family.
I credit my friend Rachel with the idea to write a blog about my baking exploits, hoping that there will be more successes than failures as I attempt all 213 of the Queen of Baking's recipes.
So as not to bore the husband with a monotonous diet of sponges, followed by weeks of biscuits, I've decided to tackle the recipes by selecting the first bake from each chapter, followed by the second recipe and so on. I'm not going to pick and choose; I'm determined to face my baking demons and learn how to do everything baking-related, even if the consequences are disastrous!
Everything will be photographed, with comment about how I found baking it, and a husband rating (to be taken with a pinch of salt as he has a very selective cake-tooth).


Wednesday, 28 March 2012

11. Iced Lemon Traybake

Because I needed to make a cake as a birthday offering for my colleagues, I naughtily skipped ahead a chapter to make this second traybake. Yes, the 'Divine Chocolate Birthday Cake' would've been great, but only serves 10 and logistics dictated it wouldn't be practical to make it. Traybakes are, as I've discovered, very practical. However, this one did cause me a bit of grief. The cake itself was easy to make; the usual sponge ingredients plus some grated lemon rind. Husband bought XL eggs instead of large ones; in the end I used 1 large and 3 XL. Whether that had any impact on the bake, I don't know. Maybe I counteracted any chemical imbalance when I managed to shunt some of the egg over the side of the bowl with my over-eager whisking. Anyway, I repeated the usual butter fiasco, but I really don't think it has much of an impact; I'll just keep trying to perfect my softening technique. The cake did 'dome' in the middle; I'm sure Mary would be able to tell me why if I could ask her. It smelt lovely; a nice subtle lemon odour wafting out of the oven.
The icing was very easy - freshly-squeezed lemon juice and lots of icing sugar (a special trip to the shop required to stock up - grrr). Applying it to the cake wasn't so easy: it slid down the mountainside, so to speak (a Sharon-related metaphor there) and made a moat around the edges. Some got more of a sugar kick than they bargained for when they had a slice!
I did have a disaster, borne out of me rushing the whole thing and not thinking carefully about what I was doing. I covered the cake in tin foil overnight, only to find the foil had introduced itself to the icing and stuck to it. After much cursing, I cut the spoilt bit out of the middle (cake stripped of its icing) for husband and I to polish off.
Baker's verdict: simple, effective, tasty, but frustrating.
Husband rating: 9/10. Icing not too sweet with a nice sharpness to it which went really well with the cake. Nice lemony flavour throughout.

Tuesday, 20 March 2012

The German Friendship Cake

Meet Herman: the German Friendship Cake I adopted last week. His arrival interrupted the birthing of other baking babies, but normal production will resume shortly. He came to me, not by Stork, but by a colleague, who got him from someone else, who got him from someone else. He's been from pillar to post has poor old Herman. Once I got him home, I had to give him a good feed: he was on a restricted diet of flour, milk and sugar to provide him with all the nutrients he needed to keep him alive and well, and his former bubbly self. He needed regular attention with the spoon and a further feeding before he miraculously multiplied and spawned siblings. Alas, my oven isn't large enough for quads, so I had to give his brothers to some equally caring, and maternal bakers at work.
This made Herman very demanding and, now at an appropriate age, I was able to feed him properly. His appetite was satisfied with lots of Bramley apple chunks, sultanas, lots more sugar and some vanilla and cinnamon. Then he was placed, snug as a bug in a rug, into a nice, cosy baking tray and warmed up for 45 minutes in the oven. He smelt lovely.
Herman is a very special sort of cake: he comes from the magical mixture that is sourdough which apparently keeps for years and years. You just keep topping it up and the wonders of science do their stuff. I have no idea where or how long ago Herman was born, and who knows where his 'seed' will travel? What I do know is that he has turned into a very handsome cake and is really rather tasty. He did a wonderful job softening the apples as he baked, and is beautifully moist.
Here's Herman at his best; straight from the oven and soon to be served with an almighty squirt of cream. If you manage to forget about his dubious origins, and what he looked like when he was bubbling away in his fledgling state, he's nothing short of divine. Easy to slice, and perfect for freezing. 12 wedges await a future day when sugary comfort is required.
Mother's verdict: very proud of my little Herman; he wasn't as high maintenance as I feared, but a rather fascinating little fellow.
Husband rating: 8 - really tasty and enjoyed the apples. A little bit soggy.


Wednesday, 14 March 2012

10. Nusskuchen

This was one of the cakes I'd been putting off for a while, not because it looked difficult to make, but because there were a lot of processes, and I knew I'd need a full day to complete each element. As it was, I made it over two days: the cake on Sunday and the filling and topping on Monday. 'Nusskuchen' is German for 'Nut cake' and contains ground hazelnuts. Mission #1: toast the nuts in the oven; rub them in a tea towel to get the skins off; grind them in a blender. This was fiddly, but yielded something rather lovely; I've discovered something nice to sprinkle on ice cream in the future.
Nuts aside, the cake mixture was fairly standard, although I did have to separate the eggs and whisk the whites for adding later. I've now defeated my butter-softening demons: the solution was to cut the cold butter into smaller cubes and put them in warm water (I think my version of 'lukewarm' is more 'you could more or less say there was a bit of warmth in it'). The cake baked for about 25 mins, appeared to rise nicely, but then fell a bit flat when it cooled. I have no idea whether it was meant to be like this (about the depth of  a layer of a Victoria Sandwich) because there are no pictures in the book. It smelt nice anyway - the ground hazlenuts were distinct. Oh, there was coffee in it too, which managed not to be too overpowering.
The filling consisted of sliced apples, apricot jam and the rind/juice of half a lemon. I don't think I cooked them for long enough as some of the apples were still a little bit 'crunchy'. I'm usually an over-cooker, so I'm trying to avoid that and occasionally under-baking. Anyway, it tasted nice. The topping was simply melted plain chocolate. Mary recommends serving it in 6 portions, with cream, so Joe and I sampled it that way initially, but my colleagues had it without the cream. I was worried it'd be a bit dry, but I think it was reasonably moist - especially the next day when the apples soaked into the sponge a bit.
Baker's verdict: an interesting cake to make, with a variety of techniques to learn and master (some success here); the kitchen was a mess - utensils and equipment everywhere. Pretty easy to make; tasted good, but personally I felt it was a bit confused, with too many flavours at odds with each other.
Husband rating: 7.5 - liked the apple filling particularly; nice hazelnut flavour running through; liked the crunch of the chocolate on top. Could've been a bit lighter, but not sure what it's meant to be like.
German teacher colleague HJH: Ausgezeichnet! Sehr lecker! Make it again, please. Danke.

Tuesday, 6 March 2012

9. Basic All-In-One Sponge Traybake

This bake is another 'let's avoid the difficult one' project; I'm now fast running out of the easy ones for this section! I'm quite frustrated to be strapped for time at the moment, because I'm really looking forward to baking something different again. But I keep thinking that it's at least better to bake something than nothing at all. So here it is, a very basic sponge - baked in a rectangular tray rather than a round one!
I'm discovering that the supermarkets, although quite well-stocked with baking equipment, probably aren't going to meet my needs as I progress through the book. This recipe, for example, required a 12x9" tray; the closest I could get was an 11x9" one. I don't think it really matters, unless OCD kicks in, but Mary seems to be quite set on a particular size of tin, and maybe it was the inch shortage that made the cake domed in the middle.
Anyway, it consisted of a very basic sponge mixture, with no extra flavourings. I've got butter issues: I seldom plan ahead enough to take it out of the fridge well in advance to soften, so I use the method Mary suggests: cubing it up and putting it in lukewarm water for 10 minutes or so, until it's squeezable. The trouble is, it doesn't cream well when mixed with the other ingredients, and I keep ending up with mixtures with little buttery lumps in it. I know they'll melt, but I'm sure it has some sort of effect on the end result. For this cake, I suspect the odd darker circles on the top of it might have been as a result of my butter lumps. All that said, it cooked for 35 minutes (my system of baking for the minimum time recommended seems to be working) and made the house smell lovely (as sponges do). I got myself in a two and eight about whether to turn it out for slicing or do it in the tin (didn't want to scratch it, so I went against MB's suggestion), and also ruined the effect of the dusting of icing sugar with some careless fingerprints. But it sliced well, and made 24 lovely little chunks of cake (some lovelier than others). Very practical for taking to work and sharing, which I did.
Baker's verdict: easy to make; tasty; nice bouncy texture.
Husband rating: 7.5 - really nice and tasty; great flavour and texture; not at all dry, just a bit plain.



8. Chocolate Crispies

I'm being naughty. I've got a challenging cake to make and I keep finding myself making other things from my first 'section' instead! I'm keen to bake every week, but I've been too busy to devote the time to anything serious, so I sought solace in the kids' section and made these instead. They're probably one of the easiest things to knock out (apart from the faff with the golden syrup), but I managed to bodge them up a bit by using the wrong type of chocolate. The recipe book was at home; I was in the supermarket; they were intended for my A Level students; I bought milk chocolate instead of dark. Didn't think it would matter too much until I melted it with the syrup and butter and it started to go all grainy and sort of claggy. It was actually quite difficult to work with once I tipped the cornflakes in. I couldn't really coat the cornflakes very well; the chocolate seemed to start re-setting quite quickly. I think I'm gradually learning a few more things about ingredients and chemical reactions! I definitely need to do something about my bun cases as well: they don't fit the tin and this makes putting mixture into them a pain in the backside.
Baker's verdict: really easy to make, but the wrong type of chocolate caused problems. Tasted pretty good though.
Husband rating: 6.5/10 - very tasty with a good texture but not the most attractive crispies.