Oh sugar! Oh honey-honey!

I'm going to start by saying if you are a fan of the biscuits honeyjumbles and are particularly attached to them in their traditional form, then you probably shouldn't read on. This is not a honeyjumble-fanatic-friendly post.

For those of you who remain, I'm going to tell you something horrific: honeyjumbles don't actually have honey in them. I discovered this when making them this afternoon. Golden syrup is the only vaguely honey-like ingredient. As the name was obviously inaccurate, I felt well within my rights to rename the faux-jumbles. Searching for a name wasn't difficult; we didn't have any golden syrup so I substituted treacle and this gave the biscuit dough a deep brown colour. A rather specific brown colour.

Flatmate #1: Walks into the kitchen and upon seeing biscuit dough slows dramatically. Asks suspiciously.'What are you doing there?'
Me: 'Making biscuits.'
Flatmate # 1: With relief, laughing. 'Ha! That's good, I thought you were kneading poo.'
Flatmate #2: Enters kitchen. 'Woah - you realise that looks like shit?'

The recipe calls for the biscuit dough to be rolled into a log shape. Just like so:

Clearly the only name for these biscuits at this point in time was 'Pooh Sticks'. Rather appropriate as it references not only the appearance of the biscuits, but also a game invented by a silly old bear that most likely would have gruffled these biscuits (that's Winnie the Pooh, for those of you who have grown out of bedtime stories).

For those of you who just scoffed at the inclusion of a children's book character as an authority for how damn tasty these biscuits are, I'll have you know that grown men fought over these biscuits. In fact, you can see for yourself (or not see, depending on how good your night vision is, as this was shot in low light).

You will need...

• 125g butter, chopped
• 1 1/2 cups golden syrup (I used treacle...)
• 3 1/2 cups plain flour
• 2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
• 2 tbp fresh ginger, finely grated, or 3 tsp ground ginger
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1 tsp ground nutmeg
  
• 1 tsp ground cloves
• splash of milk (use as required)

Icing

• 1 egg white, beaten lightly
  
• 1 cup icing sugar
• 1 tbsp flour
  
• squeeze of lemon juice (to taste)
  
• couple of drops of food colouring of your choice
• optional - flavouring*
  

The how-to...

1. Combine butter and sugar in a saucepan and stir over low heat until the butter has melted. Once the butter has melted, continue stirring and bring the mixture to the boil. Remove saucepan from the heat and leave to cool for 10 minutes.

2. Sift in dry ingredients and mix to combine. Add a little splash of milk to help the process. Cover the mixture and leave it alone for two hours.

3. Preheat your oven to 160 degrees. Turn out mixture onto a lightly floured surface and knead. You want a smooth, well combined dough - if it is coming apart then add a couple of drops of milk to hold it all together and if it is too sticky add a little flour.

4. Shape the dough into a rough rectangle and cut into 8 equal pieces. Take one piece and roll it into a long thin tube shape. Cut this into six pieces, each approximately 5cm in length. Round the ends of each piece to make the biscuit shape (see first blog picture).

5. Line the biscuits up on a tray lined with baking paper, leaving a couple of centimetres between each biscuit so they can flatten out. Put in the oven for 12 minutes.

6. Whilst the biscuits are cooking, make up your icing. Combine the icing sugar, lemon juice, flour and egg white to make a thick icing paste. If you plan to add colouring/flavouring, divide up the mixture so that you can tint/flavour each portion differently.

7. Pull out the biscuits and let them cool on the tray. After 20 minutes, transfer them to a wire tray and ice them quickly before they are all eaten.

Makes 48.

*I'm always frustrated by coloured foods that taste nothing like the flavours that the pigment promises, so I've added a little vanilla to the white icing and rosewater to the pink icing. After some pestering from my flatmate about what colour the vanilla-flavoured icing should be - blue, according to him - I made some less traditionally coloured jumbles. The 'Science' jumble (green = peppermint) and the 'Malaria' jumble (yellow = brandy). So you can imagine how good this one tasted...

Frontloader fail

"I'm a failed housewife" she cried.
"Safer than being a failed pilot" consoled he.

The year of living recklessly: an update & forecast

Dear all,

I've missed you, and (rather surprisingly) I've happily discovered that some of you have missed me too.

Late last year I declared that this would be the year of living recklessly, and after having said this with such certainty to all of you I feel obliged to give an update.

Since we last talked, these things have happened (roughly in this order):

• 4 months ago...My camera broke (a significant contributor to the lack of blogging - no photos = little inspiration to write). I would like to attribute this to a particularly reckless act, like swimming in the duck-pond at 3am in the moonlight just because I could, however I think that it just grew old, filled with sand and water after too many adventures and gave up. Today's pictures are brought to you by my flatmate's camera.
  

• 3 months ago...After having thrown in my old job, I landed a contract at the Sydney Royal Easter Show (Australia's largest event! and, according to Wikipedia, the sixth largest event in the world). I watched children plunder showbags, herded cows and also an escaped and angry pig, learned an excellent lime cordial recipe*, followed a trio of ducks with more dress options than even I have, pushed a pirate around on a trolley, ate half my weight in Show food and then drank myself green on closing night.
  

• 2 months ago...Molly & I (plus a rather nice man) moved out of the lovely home that we have shared for over 3 years. It seemed reckless and daring at first until I realised that after campaigning so hard for the change I moved us into a brilliant new place only two streets away from the old place, still within the same tiny suburb, and into the equivalent room (upstairs, front of house) - all these terraces are laid out the same. This particular terrace, however, sits higher on the hill, meaning more light in our room, and said light-filled room also has (joy of joys) an ensuite bathroom and built in wardrobes. Not one wardrobe, but two. That is one each. Words cannot sufficiently express the delight.

Pretty new room (plus kitten, if you look closely)



Pretty new flatmates outside the new house, living what a passer-by described
as a "charmed existence"

Molly, quite content in her new home, although not ready for her close-up

• 1 week ago...I turned a year older and largely tried to pretend that it wasn't happening as I felt I didn't have the time, then threw a cheese & cocktails* thing at the last minute when I realised that it would be a year before I could celebrate my birthday again.
  

• Yesterday... I bought a pair of delightful boots. Recklessly expensive (*congratulates self on use of key word*) but beautiful. The camera, and my leg, don't quite do them justice.

• Today... I blogged, instead of churning out more job applications. And galloped, instead of walking, around the house. Galloping lifts the spirits and distracts from more serious things, like job applications.
  

• Tomorrow...will be the beginning of the end of my employment, as my contract ends at the end of the week. In suitably reckless fashion, I have nowhere to go. In a style somewhat less reckless, my impending unemployment is troubling me and nights at my place frequently end with a significant amount of foot-stamping and a tirade about how I don't want to write any more answers to selection criteria.

• In the next 8 months...I will possibly do any, or none, of the following things: start one of the million craft projects stowed under my bed, skydive, sew, start a street festival, stop eating chocolate on a daily basis, drop everything and visit Canada using the power of Mastercard, write more often, be a little less of a 'fraidy-cat and start singing along whilst I learn to play guitar, join a burlesque troupe or start working as a film extra.
  

And that concludes today's update and forecast for the remainder of the year ahead. As you can see, I'm about as reckless as your nanna, or on the recklessness meter, I'd rate somewhere around 'Probably still pays for virus protection software when it can be downloaded for free'.

Until next time, when I think of something inane to ply you all with!

*Lime cordial and cocktails piqued your interest? When I started blog writing I promised myself that I would include something useful for the reader in each post. So this is the useful part.

The lime cordial recipe I learned is on the CSR website...right here...you can use regular sugar if you prefer, you will just need to double the quantity.

The cocktails recipe that I came up with is just an elaborate version of the cordial above. This served approximately 20 people, and made quite a nice non-alcoholic punch for those who prefer it that way.

You will need...

15 limes, juiced (save skins!)
2 punnets of strawberries, crushed with a fork
1 1/2 cups of raw sugar
1/2 L water
dash of Angostura bitters

3 L sparkling mineral water
2 L ginger beer
spirits of your choosing (vodka and gin were good, pimms was excellent)
ice, ice, ice

The how to...

1. In a large saucepan, over a gentle heat, combine the lime juice, raw sugar and Angostura bitters. Stir until the sugar has dissolved. Slowly add the 1/2 L of water as/if required to help this process along.

2. Add the mashed strawberries and remaining water, and let the lot simmer until you have a light syrup mixture. This took about 15 min over a gentle heat, but needs watching otherwise you will end up with something that looks more like jam than something drinkable. Turn off the heat and let it cool for 10 min.

3. Take a jug, add a handful of lime skins and then tip in about a fifth of the syrup. Let it stand for another 10 min to cool if it needs it.

4. Add a scoop of ice to the jug, then top it up with chilled sparkling mineral water and ginger beer - I used about 3 parts sparkling to 2 parts ginger beer, but you can adjust this if you prefer it more or less sweet.

5. Drink! It's nice to leave the jug un-spiked so anyone wanting something non-alcoholic can partake and everyone can choose their own alcohol. Tip a shot of whatever you want into your glass and then fill up with the cocktail mix.

The filth wizard

Anyone who has spent any time in a sharehouse will know about the dilemma that is cleaning.

The first approach is pretending - or hoping - that the house is self-cleaning. This state of blissful ignorance usually lasts a week and ends with something that resembles Bernard Black's kitchen. 'Dirty'. Flatmates can be found eating food directly off the table with the cat litter scoop to avoid acknowledging the teetering pile of dishes in the sink.

You don't want to be the first person to crack, because that makes you the cleaning nazi. Inevitably, the first person who writes the scathing email and sticks up a roster is the baddie. Alternatively, you can be the martyr. Vacuuming around your flatmates as they watch television, scrubbing the toilet whilst they shower and collecting all of their stray items and hurling them at their bedroom door in the night (I actually know someone who did this) will all earn you this title.

This evening, however, I found a new solution. My flatmate's boyfriend. A genuinely cool guy who we all like to hang out with, he had a sudden case of guilt this evening about all the time he spends here and wanted to give back to the house. He started by re-arranging the glasses, cups and crockery according to size and frequency of use. I thought it was an odd place to start, but wasn't about to discourage the man.


The result is rather pleasing, and makes me want to embrace my inner cleaning nazi and ban my flatmates from using anything lest they ruin the display. A hostile post-it should suffice.

Moral of the story: there is an inner cleaning fairy just waiting to be coaxed out of your flatmate's boyfriend. All it needs is occasional kindness, a guilt trip and a pair of pretty pink dishwashing gloves.