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).


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.


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