The Sugar Bar

It’s funny how sometimes you’ll find my friends and I standing about in a straight line, frozen stiff when there appears a swarm of squealing toddlers running zig zag about you or between your legs. It’s terrifying, absolute pandemonium unfolding before your eyes. A dear friend of mine even confessed this most ridiculous line: ‘I am allergic to two things; one of which is children.’ I don’t think I’m particularly allergic and I don’t really believe he meant what he said. Call it the heat of the moment. It’s perfectly logical in my opinion, however, that some people find children annoying, judging that the we’ve witnessed some which are just nightmares. But I have to admit that majority of the little buddies that I’ve met or spotted at work around the baby section are just truly adorable. And don’t get me wrong, I am in no way anti-children and I do want children in the future. Just a warning to my future kids though: discipline discipline discipline and then sweet treats on Sunday if you’re good otherwise you’re getting shoved under the stairs with no tea (your Mama Diva here’s giving you this headstart years in advance).

Nevertheless, when my soft spot for children goes away, I’ve been known to be a real mean dick – I’ve stolen candy from a kid before. So sue me. Who was that poor sucker? My sister. I stole her candy. I stole her whatever that thing is that babies suck on when they’re teething. I stole it right and good and it even waved it in her face, laughing.

I am mean and I ain’t gonna deny that. And oh yea, I’m greedy like that.

Maybe it’s because I’m still a child at heart. But humanity has got the better of me, civilization has socialized me and so I’ve stopped doing dumb things like that. If you can’t have what they have, make it for yourself. And so I did. My little sis C texted me to say Mum was making a lovely spread for breakfast Saturday morning. I wasn’t gonna lose at breakfast half a world away and if my mama can’t make it for me, suppose I’ve two hands, a pathetic kitchen but a brain nevertheless. The plan? To self-indulge in the kiddiest, cutest breakfast ever. And if mini-anything is not simply the cutest, I don’t know what is.

Catty has been tweeting about this – Matcha Madness. Matcha – one of the four foods I love most in the world (mushrooms, berries, matcha and black sesame seeds – they drive me wild). What is it about? You like matcha? You eat matcha? You want MORE matcha (from Teapigs)? Then head on over via the link and take part. Stop procrastinating. Go paint the town green.

So. I basically agreed to get involved, partly because I love to win things. Who doesn’t, right?? My post for it, however, is definitely not the most creative. And compared to the other things I’ve made before using matcha, this certainly pales in comparison so bad I probably shouldn’t have even bothered. And here comes the BUT. I gotta say the simple combination of flavours in this reminds me of Japanese Christmas Cake – strawberries, fluffy light sponge and whipped cream. This is quite perfect for the summer heat especially when British strawberries are at their best now, all red ripe and fat. Simply use your favourite pancake recipe (I’ve used one meant for dorayaki actually, recipe over here), whip up some double cream with matcha and a touch of icing sugar if needed. Put everything together including the ripest sweetest fat strawberries you can find and drizzle golden syrup over.

When I was a kid, I used to make up combinations of fruit and biscuit as dessert for my parents. After a meal, my mama would clear away the dishes and I’d be busy in the kitchen hacking away (alright, actually nimbly slicing away) at whatever fruit was available, banging together some biscuits, chocolate squares that sorta thing together and putting it all nicely on a plate a la smiley faces, concentric circles, towers, etc.

Some kids had Lego. I had fruit and biscuits.

This childish pancake stack is really a tribute to that little kid me. The cherry on top? Those broken bits of matcha biscuits I stabbed into the matcha whipped cream. I have so much class, now don’t I?

It’s Shrove Tuesday, ie. Pancake Day! Well it’s not like I need an excuse to have pancakes. It sorta is like a Sunday brekkie thing to have but pancakes when it’s not even mid-week is so much more indulgent and delicious. Knowing that just about the rest of England is having pancakes too (albeit the English crepe-like ones) – savoury or sweet – helps with feeling all fat and happy, and a lot less like the lone greedy chubster.

I spied some gorgeous rhubarb pancakes over at Nic’s Cherrapeno and I couldn’t help getting some rhubarb as well. I think it’s gotta be one of the prettiest pink edible things and I simply love it in a trifle or yoghurt. Thanks Nic for a lovely pancake idea. I’m really glad I made this as I love all things tart. Although the rhubarb sauce wasn’t as tart as I wanted it to be (didn’t wanna tart-out my flatmate), I thought it was a very delicious variation of the usual plain pancakes or the same old blueberry pancakes I find myself having every time.

I’d love to stay on here longer, but I gotta hit the books again. Yes I am a geek, don’t judge me. And yes the work’s starting to pile up. Third yes, I’ve turned into a granny who fights the cold with hot soups, cups of tea and blankets about my knees. Well, grannies are so in right now. You can’t fault that. Off I go, leaving you the recipe.

This recipe’s given me the fluffiest, softest pancakes ever. But it didn’t rise enough to my liking and it may have needed some rising agent like baking powder. I might have to experiment and compare with other recipes in the future. Nevertheless, they were good. Like little fluffy clouds.

Recipe yields 8 pancakes
Rhubarb Pancakes
Ingredients

1 cup self-raising flour
2 tbs melted butter
3/4 cup milk
1 tbs sugar
1 egg yolk
3 egg whites, whisked to form stiff peaks
pinch of salt
about 1/2 cup rhubarb sauce

In a dry medium bowl, whisk egg whites to form stiff peaks.

In a separate large bowl, sift flour, sugar and salt. Make a well in the centre.

Beat lightly together the egg yolk, melted butter and milk. Pour into the well and mix gently to form a lumpy batter. Fold in egg whites, leaving some touches of egg whites intact.

In a small frying pan, heat some butter, add a ladle of batter and fry until bubbles start forming on the surface. Flip and allow the other side to cook for another minute or so. Repeat until all the batter is used up. Keep the other pancakes in a warm oven or let the hungry buggers you live with gobble them up whilst you work hard at the stove!

Rhubarb Sauce
Recipe can be found here, which I used for a ganache. You can use this in the pancake batter and to serve over them.

If someone were to break into my house, into my bedroom to be more specific, whilst I’m in and demand all my valuables, my reaction would definitely be:

Please, take everything you want except my passport and laptop!

Firstly, I probably shouldn’t be making any demands at all. It seems totally unwise to be attempting bargains when face to face with a nasty desperate burglar. Secondly, there shouldn’t even be the most minute allowance for a break-in but I’m just saying ‘what if’; of course, I’m totally crossing my fingers and banging on wood that it’ll never ever happen. Thirdly, shouldn’t one’s life be more important than something mechanical and material like a laptop?

Only thing is, my laptop’s like my love-child. Ok, maybe not so much a love-child but an amniotic sac that contains all my unborn children – failed attempts at poetry, bits of surprising cleverness, the puzzle pieces of a story I’ve yet to successfully put together, precious photos & artworks & graphics and a massive database of tunes. Oh, not to forget university documents and important essays (strange how that only came to me as an afterthought!). And I could never willingly give that over to someone. Just as anyone would feel violated at the thought of a complete stranger entering your house and going through your things, I would too feel massively violated at the thought of having someone rob my intellectual property and know personal ‘memories’ (photos) and ‘obsessions’ (music).

Another great problem would be the attempt to re-build all that work. It could be easier for others with a better memory but seeing as I ain’t too good with remembering as I was in high school, attempting to reconstruct my writings and put together my iTunes and photo database would be near impossible!

Paranoia hit me this morning and by some strange stroke of magic (if you could call it that), I was so sure that my beautiful Macbook might die on me soon. I pray it won’t since it’s been such a gorgeous girl for 2 years now. I’ve promised to take it for a nice upgrading come Christmas to increase its performance but somehow there’s a tiny nagging feeling at the back of head and it’s a good nagging feeling because it’s pushing me to backup my most important documents. Hopefully, you lot out there will also be hit by the Paranoia Bug and think to backup whatever you hold important to you. Even if nothing bad’s happened, even if you computer is working like a beauty, even if you’ve never been burgled – be careful! It’s always good to be safe than sorry.

Putting aside that most random story and paranoia, let me share with you the best pancake recipe (I won’t say ‘ever’ because there might be better ones ever – but this is the best I’ve made so far). I love pancakes. But I’ve never had that perfect plate of pancakes which I could proudly proclaim to everyone “I made that!”. So each time, I go on and slather butter and pour gallons worth of maple syrup on them feeling a little miffed and upset. However, I’ve altered and tweaked my pancake recipe each time I make them in the search for that ultimate fat pancake. I’ve deifnitely not once given up. Talk about the Pancake Pilgrim’s Progress (I hope I haven’t made John Bunyan turn in his grave by perverting his title)! What’s so good about this attempt I think is that I might just have managed to alter my pancake recipe to the point of perfection — but perfection for me alone. I’ll be using this recipe from now on, except on Pancake Day (when English pancakes must be served), because these guys are the ultimate fat buggers I’ve been searching to create all my life. These are really fat and definitely fluffy. Be sure to cook them through. If you’re not careful, the fat layers might deceive you into thinking it’s all cooked through when actually there’s a tiny bit of uncooked gooeyness in the middle.

Add blueberries for the ultimate experience, or whatever toppings please you the most. These are still great plain or with the tiniest dash of cinnamon. I think the next time I whip these up, I’m adding two slices of crispy streaky bacon on top – major sin at breakfast time! Just the way I fancy it.

Ultimate Fat Fluffy Blueberry Pancakes
Ingredients

2 cups self-raising flour
1 cup milk
2 eggs, lightly beaten
2 tbs butter, melted
2 tbs sugar
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup blueberries
more butter, for frying

Place all dry ingredients in a bowl. Whisk to mix. Make a well in the middle. Add eggs and gently whisk in. Add milk gradually as you continue to whisk. Batter will be lumpy and bubbly but that’s fine.
Melt some butter on a frying pan or skillet and ladle out a ladle of batter into the middle of the hot pan, using the back of the ladle to spread it out into a neat circle. Cook about 2-3minutes until bubbles start to form on the wet surface. Slip a spatula underneath the pancake, shuffle it about to unstick the pancake from the pan.
Now, flip the pancake with a gentle flick of the wrist – like a pro – or use the spatula. Cook another 1-2 minutes.
Serve up warm with extra butter and syrup.