Six degrees of Kevin Baking (oh god did I just go there)

Still recovering from the turkish-delight-making joys and perils of the weekend just passed, I stick to fairly low key baking adventures this time: a repeat of a simple wholemeal loaf not worth a photo but satisfying for my ability to make it with only a quick glance at the recipe, and a trio of Nigel Slater delights – including a remake of those meringues with the blessing of an electric mixer – for dinner with dear friends (who devotedly stay with us for an evening of good food and merriment and a night of futon-sleeping squeezed between sofa, desk, television and dining table – plus side, it’s the warmest kind of camping you’ll get in November). I also whip up a batch of gluten-free chocolate and almond cookies for their Saturday teatime arrival, proud and disconcerted in equal measure by my newfound tendency to insist on homebaked treats and to use the term “whip up” to describe my making of them.

You might think that my lack of baking this weekend is all for the sake of getting more work done that I managed to fit around last week’s bakeathon. It’s more for the sake of catching up on missed episodes of exceptionally funny Fresh Meat and often-disappointing-but-worth-it-for-the-delight-of-Romola-Garai-sparring-with-Dominic-West The Hour. And, of course, to go out and buy a pair of DMs for the first time since I was 13. “DMs?” asks one friend on a facebook status I have posted to garner support for the sense of queer / pre-queer nostalgia I am feeling post-purchase: “Surely you don’t mean Daily Mails?” I once bough one for the sake of a free bar of chocolate and felt rather sick afterwards (not from the chocolate). Doctor Martens are worth the extra expense. Another friend gently berates me: “Ok I can just about take it on you, but I do wish undergrads would stick to uggs, it’s like teaching my teenage self”, she says. These dark red beauties, classic enough to boast the customary yellow stitching around the sole but with a heel and an edge of elegance, are far removed from the bright purple boots of my adolescence. I justify the purchase by calling them my “queer conference shoes.”

With two further sets of dinner guests planned for the week ahead I spend Monday preparing menus. Specifications: a) if a cake just needs to be made (and how could it not be) use a loaf tin because the square tin is 200 miles down south; b) try to double up on ingredients for the sake of at least a semblance of economy. It starts to look like a game of 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon but with food. I’ve been meaning to make rye bread for a while and settle on a recipe from Dan Lepard’s Short and Sweet. Rye: Dan Lepard also has a rye apple cake which looks delicious. To count as a desert cake must be served with cream. Cream: Nigel Slater’s Spiced pumpkin soup with bacon looks great for dinner #1. You’ll find nothing in common between that dish and the one I’ve chosen for dinner #2 (linguine alla vongole) but the fact that they’re just pages apart in my favourite cookery book, The Kitchen Diaries.

Monday’s plunge into the working week demands a lunchtime treat: a bacon sarnie with portobello mushrooms and rosemary. To ease my guilt about the third helping of bacon in as many days – if it’s in the name of research it’s justifiable – I insist on a working lunch. And now I have a brown mushroomy bacon stain on my copy of Epistemology of the Closet and I’m no closer to the day’s word-count goal. On Tuesday, I delight in the 30 minutes of bubbling time the rye bread mixture requires before proving and baking – this kind of cooking might just be a way to atone for my adolescent aversion to science – and on Wednesday, no nearer to Monday’s work goal, I spread this sweet-salty pumpernickel-like loaf with soft irish goats cheese for a quick pre-supervision lunch. The apple cake has come out of the oven and promises to be a tasty accompaniment to an evening of lesbian film watching with my (not lesbian) friend who knows the names of more lesbian films than I do and whose recent completion of a PhD on food begs for a co-written paper on lesbians and food. Sounds like a guest blog post in the making.

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1 Comment

  1. I also always turn to nigel slater when I want something simple but failsafe. Once in a while I get in a bit of an adventurous mood and then I try things that come from heston haha, or in your case, you went for turkish delights. love to read that gay guest post. hah.

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