Modest Mouse.

I recently had a nasty encounter with a white mouse (of the confectionary variety, of course). In a moment of gluttony, I treated myself to a tasty little bag of pick 'n' mix, remembering how amazing it used to taste back in the day. I made sure I got plenty of my old favourites including white mice, pink pigs and jazzies. However, later that evening, when I eagerly bit into one of my sugar-laden morsels, it did not taste as delicious as my memories suggested. In fact, it tasted a bit.... piggy. It really just tasted like pig fat. I was greatly saddened - my childhood was a sham (maybe).

A few weeks later, I saw these cute little mice-shaped chocolate moulds, and thought I would make a stab at reconciling myself with my old beloveds.

1. Seek out 200g of good quality white chocolate. I am aware that 'good quality' and 'white chocolate' is pretty much a paradox phrase. White chocolate is pretty rubbish, purely as it doesn't have cocoa in. But you can overlook this fact, because you will soon be eating posh white mice. For added panache, I chucked in a couple of packets of Fizz Wiz - that lovely, satisfying, crackling candy.

2. Slowly melt the chocolate in the microwave or, if you're very particular, in a pan of boiling water. No burnt bits, please. Sprinkle in the Fizz Wiz, making sure to save a pinch or two for your own childish enjoyment.

3. Now, evenly ladle it into your anticipating mice-shaped moulds. If you have worryingly unstable hands like me, and drip it all over the shop, never fear because you can just snap it off and eat it when it's set.

4. Leave them in your fridge to set for a while; about 1.5 hours should do the trick. Present them to your loved ones with the next cup of tea you make them - it's probably the only time that the sight of mice in a kitchen is met with joy.

As a non-white chocolate lover, I have to say, these were still pretty tasty. I admit to using white chocolate purely for aesthetic reasons, and it would be a sweet idea to add a few drops of food colouring to the mix (cornflower blue mice, anyone?). I am strongly considering popping them in a paper bag and showing the sweet shops how white mice should really be done!

Absoloute Dream Brownies

Our humble batch of brownies may not look much, but they sure as hell tasted amazing. One rainy Thursday, my two dearest chums and I set our hands at making the most ridiculously unhealthy baked goods around. And after more than one thumbs up for this particular recipe, we decided it would be rude not to give it a whirl. I strongly advise you to follow suit!

1. Break up 185g of dark chocolate, all the while exercising extreme self-control and not eating it (save for the odd rogue square). We plumped for Co-operative own Fairtrade confection, at the grand old sum of 90p, and I can tell you - it ain't half bad. 

2. Weigh out 185g of unsalted butter and - for want of a nicer word - mash it into the chocolate. As you can see it looks really quite unattractive, but have patience my friend. Pop it into a microwave for 2 minutes until it's transformed into a tasty chocolately sauce. Forget all about it for a while. 

3. Now is the time to put the oven on at 160 c and line a baking tray with foil. Weigh out 85g and 40g of flour and cocoa powder, respectively. Sieve it like nobodies business, as skillfully demonstrated by an excitable Jess. 

4. Now, chop up 50g each of milk and white chocolate into precise little squares. Alternatively, you could always just snap them in half if you're feeling lazy.. that's what we did, and it turned out just dandy. 

5. Crack three eggs into a mixing bowl, making sure to fish out any inevitable chunks of shell. That would be something of an unwelcome addition to your debut bite of brownie. 

6. Throw in 275g of caster sugar with your eggs, and set an electric whisk to the mixture until it's thick 'n' creamy, much like a milkshake. Make sure you keep swapping hands or have someone else to burden with the task, because it takes forever (well... about 8 minutes). 

7. By now, your chocolate and butter mix will have cooled down sufficiently, so you can begin the arduous process of 'folding' it into the eggs and sugar. The aim of the game is to slowly blend it together without getting too much air in the mixture. As you can see, it starts to looking pretty delicious round about now. 

8. Once it's all thoroughly mixed, it's time to add in your previously sieved flour and cocoa. Actually, you may as well sieve it again, for good measure. Fold this in the same way, until it looks pleasingly like actual cake mixture. 

9. Sprinkle in the chopped chocolate chunks, rejoicing in the fact that you may now eat the remaining chocolate, at long last! Stir furiously, then spatula the mixture into the lined baking tray. Pop it into the eagerly awaiting oven. 

10. Now you must face the longest 25 minutes of your life. Read trashy magazines, do a bit of Facebook noseying, whatever you like - anything to distract you from the chocolatey fumes wafting in from the kitchen. 

11. When those agonizing 25 minutes are up, it's time to seize it from the oven. Give it a little jiggle, because if the centre wobbles, it needs a few more minutes (sorry). If it stays firm like Beyonce's thighs, you're good to go. Well, almost, there's still the small matter of letting it cool down until it's not at a mouth-burning degree. Oh, and it should also be covered, curiously,  with what seems to be delicious brown paper. Give it 15 minutes and it's all yours...

Apricot & Almond Flapjack

T'other day, I baked up a storm with this rather delicious variety of flapjack. It was made using my previously mentioned recipe, merely substituting the crystalised ginger with a handful of dried apricots and almonds. Tasty! 

p.s. If you enjoy this combination of flavours, I urge you to try this - peel apart a dried apricot and pop in as many almonds as you can fit. Looks disgusting; tastes amazing. 

Tasty Shortbread Foxes

Admittedly, foxes have got a bit of a bad reputation recently, but I've always thought they possess a certain cheeky, cavalier charm. After pondering long and hard about what to bake, me and Laura settled on shortbread. As for the fox element, well... I recently watched the visual treat that is  The Fantastic Mr Fox, got goosebumps hearing 'Fox In The Snow' live and, just before the baking commenced, a fox ran through my garden. Coincidence? I think not! So really the decision was made for us already. If you wish to follow suit, read on; if not, just look at the pictures, I won't judge you.

1. Making shortbread is easy as pie. Easier, in fact - it only uses three ingredients! Preheat the oven to 190 degrees, then cream together 125g of butter and 55g of caster sugar until smooth and delicious-looking.

2. This is the tricky part - you must make the agonising decision over which cookie cutter to use. These bad-boys are from Ikea, if you're interested. 

3. Add 180g of plain flour and it's time to stick your hands in. As you can see, it ain't pretty, but it must be done! Then, if you do so desire, add a bit of food colouring for extra pizass. You may want to use a spoon for this, as my hands were permanantly blushing for days after. 

4. With great aplombe, throw more flour onto the surface of your choice. Roll out the mixture to about 1 cm thickness, using a rolling pin, a can of cider or your very own hands. Then start chopping out shapes and popping them onto a baking tray. 

5. Once your baking tray resembles some sort of urban wildlife massacre, sprinkle them all with sugar and pop into the oven for 15-20 minutes. 

6. Once they're looking all golden and crispy (and, to our disapointment, not very pink), snatch them greedily from the oven. Then leave them to cool down, or until the anticipation gets all too much. And there you have it. Topical biscuits for all the family. 

Carrot Cake

I like to think of myself as a relatively modest person, but my recent Carrot Cake endeavour had me almost shouting on the rooftops, it was that good! I, too, frown upon fishing for compliments, but this bloody delicious cake had me forcing it upon anyone who passed our threshold and demanding a mark out of ten. True story! This isn't just me being boastful though, it really was pretty yum - one friend had one mouthful and announced I no longer needed to buy her a 21st birthday present, just to make her an entire cake for herself. Sounds like a plan. If you fancy tasting this magnificent cake for yourself, here's what you gotta do...

1) Pre-heat the oven to 180 degrees, and line your cake tin with foil to avoid any unnecessary scrapings once it's baked. Pop 175g of Muscovado sugar, 175 ml of sunflower oil (really!) and 3 eggs into a mixing bowl, and stir furiously!

2) Grate up two entire carrots, until you've got what looks like a pile of lovely, chopped-up ginger hair. If you're going to be really fastidious about it, chop it up a bit so the strands aren't too long and stringy. Zest the rind of an orange, but resist sampling a morsel - it ain't as tasty as it smells, believe me.

3) Finely chop up a handful of walnuts and chuck that, as well as the carrots 'n' zest, into the rather gelatinous mixture. Reflect for a moment about how this cake is actually really, really healthy what with all the nuts, fruit and veg it contains (ignore all the sugar, oil and, later on,  icing - you can't sweat about the small details.)

4) Add 175g of (sieved) self-raising flour and a teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda (definitely don't taste this). Finally, to add a bit of spicy goodness, you'd best put in a big teaspoon of cinnamon and half a teaspoon of ground nutmeg. Once it's all stirred together, pour it into your cake tin and whack it in the oven for 40-45 minutes. You may now lick the spoon.

5) Once the baking is all over and done with, I'm afraid you have another agonizing wait before eating may commence - it needs to cool right down before you can ice it, unfortunately. I feel your pain; I got so antsy that I put it in front of a fan to try and hurry up the process a bit.

6) After about half an hour or so, you could distract yourself by making the icing. I personally think it would be a crime not to pair it with cream cheese icing, but if you are a bit vanilla in your tastes, you could always opt for a butter icing. Mush together tablespoon of full-fat cream cheese (none of that Philadelphia Light, please), half a tablespoon of butter and shitloads of icing sugar. Keep dipping your finger in, and since you may be biased as you want to eat it as soon as possible, get someone else to check it, too. It's surprisingly hard to strike the balance right so that it doesn't just taste like just sugar or just cream cheese, but the two combined. Once the cake is cool to the touch, you're good to go. Smother that badboy in the extremely delicious cream cheese icing, and throw on a few more walnuts for good measure. Ta-da! Looks amazing, no? Wait 'til you try it. 

Such a tasty success was the cake, it was a mere few days later that round two of carrot cake bakin' commenced. Before you think 'You greedy pigs!', it was for a gift. My sister & I gave the lovely Jemma this rather delightful cake stand for her birthday, and it would be rude not to fill it with cupcakes, wouldn't it? The upside to making carrot cupcakes is that they take a mere 20 minutes to bake, so you can eat them sooner - I mean, give them away sooner. Shh.

Lemon Drizzle Cake

Oh lemon drizzle cake, get in my mouth! This particularly delectable creation is a firm favourite of mine and old ladies alike, and for good reason – it's bloody amazing. The following recipe worked a treat, and stayed tasty for as long it lasted in our household (three days – a record!). After a recent wardrobe culling, I unearthed my rather amazing psycadelic sixties apron, which I promptly attatched to myself. So in honour of the occasion, I accompanied my cake making with some of the best 60's girl groups, and I strongly suggest you follow suit...

1) Pop the oven on, 'till it's at 180°c, and line your cake tin with foil. There, now the boring bit's over. Frantically mix 225g of butter and the same amount of sugar together until it's all creamy. Crack open four eggs, making sure to feel impressed with yourself when you don't accidently drop in any shell, and throw them into the mixture one at a time.

Suggested listening: Be My Little Baby – The Ronnettes

2) Weigh out 225g of self-raising flour, then sift it into your eggy/sugary/buttery concoction for minimum lumpiness. You might want to do a few warm up exercises and flex your muscles, as now you must do some serious whisking. Since I am seriously abysmal de-lumpifying, I very kindly gave it to my Ma to complete while I progressed to the next step. For those fools that do their own whisking, this song as rather appropriate, as you can dance around your kitchen, Twiggy style.

Suggested listening: Jimmy Mack – Martha Reeves & The Vandellas

3) Rinse and dry two lemons, then, using a cheese grater, collect all the zest and pop that in the mixture too. Observe how curious and naked the lemons now look, but don't chuck their pale, exposed bodies away – you'll need them later for the drizzle!

These Boots Are Made For Walking – Nancy Sinatra

4) Spoon the mixture into the cake tin and level out the surface, purely for aesthetic reasons. Proudly put it in the oven, and now the waiting game begins. Resist peeking at it whilst it's cooking, as opening the oven will make the cake go all sad and flat. You have an agonizing 50 minute wait on your hands (and then even longer for it to cool down) so you might want to have a little snack, to soften the blow. I opted for a little bowl of cherries.

Suggested listening: He's Got The Power – The Exciters

5) At last! Sieze it from the oven and place it on a wire rack. Whilst it cools down, you can begin with the drizzle making. Juice both the previously-zested lemons, then stir in 85g of caster sugar. Now, here comes your chance to release any pent up rage. Viciously stab your cake with a skewer until it's covered in little holes, then drizzle your, erm, drizzle all over it. Aaaand, you're done.... except not quite, as you've got to wait for the bloody thing to cool down and set - hence the song choice.

Suggested listening: You Keep Me Hangin' On – The Supremes

6) Finally, you're able to eat the fruit of your creation! Personally, I liked it best when it had completely cooled down, but if you really can't wait I bet it's divine with custard. We opted to have it with a generous helping of cream. For the ultimate taste test, why not serve it to the ultimate cake critic – an elderly woman? Woo your granny, your neighbour, or a passing stranger on the street, whichever. If she gives it the seal of approval, then you know you've done good.

Listening suggestions: Love Is Strange – Mickey & Sylvia

Tastiest Ever Scones.

Despite being a bit of a scone afficionado, I've never actually attempted to make 'em before. But today was to be the day I finally manned up and went for it, with the help of my darling sis, Lo. To our extreme joy, they came out pretty damn delicious! If you fancy giving it a whirl, here's how you do it.

1) First thing's first, pre-heat your oven to 220 degrees. Weigh out 225g of self-raising flour and then sieve it into a mixing bowl, so that it looks all fluffy and lovely, like so.

2) Throw in a pinch of salt and weigh out 55g of butter. Then - this is the rather messy bit - rub the butter into the floury mixture.... it feels a bit like 'pinching bits off a really fat person', Laura reckoned. Once it's all bread-crumby, add 25g of caster sugar and 150 ml of milk to your mixture. At this stage in life, it does look a bit like vomit, I must say.

3) This bit's optional, just to add a little somethin' somethin' to the scone. It could be chocolate chips, flakes of almond or slivers of cherry... or if you're a bit boring you can always make plain scones. But we're not boring, so we sliced up 100g of crystalized ginger and stirred it in! 

Here's an action shot of Lo mixing up scones, and clearly loving it.

4) Here comes the fun bit. Throw flour all over your work top with reckless abandon! Don't worry too much about cleaning this up when you're all done and dusted, the idea is your family/housemates will be so grateful for the delicious scones, that they'll do it for you. If not, one word - vacuum. Anyway. Grab the mixture and knead it on your surface, until it's about 2cm thick.

5) Using a pastry cutter, stamp out as many future scones as you possibly can, because you're gonna want the lot. Now, place them on a pre-greased baking tray. Utilise your artistic skills, and brush them with milk! Pop them into the oven for fifteen minutes until they're all golden and delicious-lookin'. We used this agonizing wait to invent a new summer playlist, I reccomend you follow suit.

6) Once they're finally out, leave 'em to cool on a wire rack for a further twenty minutes or so. Personally, I rather like them a bit warm, so if you really can't wait, just go for it! They would be pretty amazing served with Nuttella and/or clotted cream, or just some good ol' fashioned butter. Naturally a cup of tea is pre-requisite. 

Bon Appetit!