Sunday, June 03, 2007

Home baking

"Have you ever eaten one of my sponge cakes?" Herself asks me, the other evening, as we are watching television.
"Nope," I say, swigging my beer.
"Didn't you know me when I used to bake sponge cakes and butterfly buns and flans and maringues?"
"Er... no."
"I shall make us a sponge cake at the weekend."

Come the weekend there was a crisis of ounces verses grams. I was entertaining my father in the other room and so I couldn't help much.

"Look it up on the Internet," I said.

An hour later I was eating.... something.... sponge-like....

"Do you like it?"
"Er... yes...."

I chewed at the lump of fruit-topped, cream-filled yellowish stuff. Having to chew or gnaw at a sponge cake is probably an indication that it hasn't come out right.

"I think I didn't get the measurements right," she said. "And I think there was something about folding the mixture rather than beating it."

I seprated my upper teeth from my lower ones with an effort, long enough to say:

"No, babe. It's fine, really."

There was a definite clunk when a piece of leftover spong hit the bottom of the kitchen bin. I could feel strange protestations starting up in my gut.

Herself Googled for sponge cake recipes.

"I know what went wrong!" she shouted in to the other room. "I'll make you a proper one tomorrow!"

So, today, I'm eating a wafer-thin sponge-cake that hasn't turned out either. But it is lighter than yesterday's.

"I know where I went wrong. I'll make another one tomorrow that will be right this time. I promise."

My gut is thanking Heaven that we're back at work on Tuesday. It might not have survived an extra day of sponge making.

"You can write about it," Herself said. "On condition you write a sequel when it turns out...."

Watch this space.


Angharod said...

Checking daily for the continuence. I don't bake anymore at all, so am applauding Herself's tenacity. Fold on girl! *S*

Jo said...

Good for her, at least she is persistant.

I was never a great one for baking. I remember baking an apple pie for the first time and leaving it on a shelf to cool.
A friend came to call and was asked did he want a cup of tea. Of course he did, while I was not watching, he decided to cut himself a piece of this lovely looking pie, the aroma was too inviting.
CRASH, the pie was on the floor, still intacked. The knife would not cut through the pastry and the more he tried, the more the already known wobbly shelf loosened. We cried with the laugh, yer man was mortified. I did get better at the baking over the years by the way. My pastry is now edible.

Willie_W said...

Well, Herself was doing fine on the baking logic until she decided on Day Three to use different parts of the oven!

This resulted in an almost perfect sponge in one cake tin, accompanied by a holy wafer of pot scrubber in the other.

I think the next attempt should be right on the money.

My sister tells me it's sponge cake for my father's birthday tomorrow afternoon. Time to steel the gut to more eggy goodness.

Jo said...

Eh ? Willie, I heard it is going to be a Black Forrest G. Can't spell the G part *S*. I'm sure we will get some of whatever it is down the gullet anyhow. See ya there !

Jo said...

Then again, Black Forrest IS a sponge with all the other fresh cream and fruit, MMMMM

Willie_W said...

We'll nosh it own whatever it is. Purely out of politeness, of course... ;-)