Coconut Lime Sugar Cookies

There are many things I like about not owning a car: the avoided expense (including those unexpected repairs that seem to happen to everyone I know), the people watching on bus journeys, not having to focus on driving while little people scream in the back of the car. When we rent a car for long journeys, it seems expensive at first glance, but you always get a brand new car and again you don't have to worry so much about mileage and strange rattling noises.

The main times when I really wish we did own a car are when my kids get invited to birthday parties. For their younger years we were fine - they were usually very casual affairs somewhere nearby where we could walk to, and parents were always invited to stay (often enjoying the party far more than the children). But now that two of my children are of school age, parties have been amped up a notch. I totally get why - usually you are under pressure to invite a high number of kids, and entertaining a group of primary schoolchildren for two hours is enough to give anyone nightmares. So instead, people usually choose some venue out on an industrial estate where, for a fairly reasonable price, they will promise to look after the little terrors and celebrate a child growing a year older, so long as you bring the cake and party bags (do NOT forget party bags). Parents are only half-heartedly asked to stay, as while there is space for kids, there is not a great deal of room for adults. If there is, it is usually a small waiting room or an isolated corner of a VERY LOUD ROOM.

Now this is fine and great if you have a car. You can usually draw a deal with some other parents where one of you will drop them off and another will pick them up, and having handed the kids over the parent will usually involuntarily begin to grin like a madman at their short period of freedom.

If you don't have a car, this means studying the Lothian Bus website and Google streetview to figure out which buses to take, what the bus stops look like so that you know when to disembark, and what the actual venue looks like so you know where you are heading to and don't walk the wrong way round a building with the same circumference as Lake Erie dragging the child who is invited and two other children who have to come along anyway now matter how much they complain.

This weekend my son has been fortunate enough to be invited to a tubing party. The lucky kid gets to go on the dry ski slope with 10 of his friends and speed down it on an inner tube at the speed of 100 miles an hour, screaming with delight the entire time. The small drawback is that it is two bus rides away, and then one has to trek up a hill to get to the ski centre. I have done it before in good weather, but as I looked at the weather predicted for today it did not look good. My husband had told me he was going to be in Glasgow for the day, and suddenly I pictured myself on the last stretch, buggy-less, dragging up the kids in wind, hail and sleet and I decided this called for desperate measures.

I begged.

To be precise, I sent an email to all the other parents who had kids going and asked if any could transport my child there, explaining our lack of wheels. For the first hour after I sent the email, I confess I cursed them all, wondering why they hadn't dropped everything to tell me they would take my precious child. Then the offers came pouring in, the father of the birthday boy even asking if I'd like them to take my son there and back. I cheered, I wept tears of joy...and I got out my pinterest board of baking ideas.

I couldn't offer to return the favour today, but I could offer baked goods at least to the parents willing to chauffeur my offspring. I decided on this recipe, using lime zest as well as lime juice, but there was one little problem: I'm off sugar. When I am making something, especially when I am making it for the first time, I like to taste it to make sure it is ok before giving it to anybody else. Yes, of course I could cheat and have a bite, but that would just be like sticking dynamite next to a dam...once started I wouldn't be able to start - it's all or nothing, really. So I made a batch and made my kids try them.

"Thumbs up!" my son cried.

"Yes, they're ok," my daughter said.

"Do they taste like lime?" I asked.

"Lime?" they both asked.

"Yes, lime! You know, kind of like lemon?" I demanded.

They both shook their heads no and continued chewing. So I juiced another lime and added icing sugar until it looked like an ok consistency for drizzling over the tops and added it on.

My husband, who had ended up not going out of town in the end (I know my son is totally going to rat me out on this, by the way, so I'll need to explain myself next time I see the parents) came shuffling through at this point and decided to give up his lunchtime fasting.

"I'm not feeling well!" he said as he chewed. "I'll start fasting again tomorrow."

"Are they ok?" I asked.

"Mmm...gorgeous..." he replied, then shuffled back to bed.

"Do you taste the lime?" I shouted after him.

No response.

So I can't fully endorse this recipe, as I've not actually eaten any, but I've sent them off with the parents anyway (though the dad may have been slightly disappointed as they were in a plastic chocolates tub).

But on a positive note, now that I'm in city car club, kids' parties will be more welcome in my life. I didn't have enough courage (or car seats) to do the journey in one today, fearing that my first ever trip in one of their cars would be too stressful to attempt going to this party, but next time, Gadget...next time...

Coconut Lime Sugar Cookies

3 cups all purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
¼ tsp salt
1 cup butter, softened
2 eggs
1½ cups granulated sugar
1 tsp vanilla
zest and juice of 1 lime
½ cup toasted coconut

juice 1 lime, icing sugar

Preheat your oven to 350 F/180C.

Beat butter and eggs until smooth and fluffy. Then, add in eggs, vanilla, and lime. In a separate bowl, whisk flour, salt, baking soda, coconut and baking powder.  Carefully add the dry ingredients to the wet.

Drop rounded teaspoon size balls onto parchment paper-covered cookie sheets and bake for 8 – 10 minutes, until lightly browned. Let baked cookies sit on the cookie sheet for a minute or two and them move to wire cooling racks.

Once cookies have cooled, juice 1 lime then add icing sugar until glaze is consistency you want it. Put it into a ziplock bag, snip off the very end of the corner, and drizzle over cookies.

Panettone in a Bundt

Ah, Lent, that joyous time of year when we willingly go without. My son has given up marshmallows, my husband has given up lunch, and I have given up all processed sugar. You can imagine how cheerful our household is these days.

Oh, and my daughter has given up eating raw tomatoes. Yup, she really knows how to make a sacrifice for Lent.

So it is with somewhat dampened enthusiasm that I find myself baking for work this week. We are having our own little bake off, and the category is "Continental Cakes". While at first I had thought of making a fraisier, I realised that this would be quite a bit of effort for a cake that wouldn't slice well and would need refrigeration. Instead I decided to make a more pannetone type affair, using a bundt tin to give it a pretty shape. Bundt tins are useful like that.

Now if you ask any Italian for their Panettone recipe, they'll laugh and direct you to the nearest reputable bakery. But in my Joy of Cooking, next to the recipe I use as the base dough for my hot cross buns, is a recipe for Panettone, which I followed loosely until the last step where I put it into a bundt tin rather than a tube tin.

I didn't get my camera out until I'd made the sponge starter. Here it is, in all its clingfilmed glory, sitting in the morning sun.

Er, yeah...moving on...

Then while that rose for a while I covered some sultanas with water, brought them to the boil, and drained them. This prevents them from being super dry and stops them from burning...mostly.

While Joy asked for separate additions of chopped candied citron peel and orange peel, all I had at my disposal was chopped mixed peel. So be it. Here you can see my weathered Joy peeking through.

In it went with the soaked sultanas...with the addition of a couple Tablespoons of rum.

And hour or so later, my sponge starter looked like this, al bubbly and happy.

So in a separate bowl I put an egg, some yolks (eek - egg separation anxiety!), sugar, vanilla, lemon zest, and clementine zest (I had no oranges).

And some plain flour...which was supposed to be bread flour but I didnae have any in my hoose. Oh, and the sponge starter went in too.

It was gloopy. This is supposed to be kneaded/mixed until smooth.

This was as smooth as I got it before I lost patience and threw in the butter.

Again, this was as smooth as I got it before I lost patience. More would be better and would result in an airier cake.

In went my fruit mixture after I'd drained off most of the booze.

And I mixed it until it looked like so.

I then put it in a buttered bowl. It's supposed to be a smooth ball, but oh well.

Here is one purchase I did manage to remember: cooking spray. These bundt pans are great for pretty cakes, but they are a real pain to grease before use.

Once the dough had risen, I punched it down (or rather, gave it a rough stir with a wooden spoon) then spooned it into the pan to rise

At this point I was running out of time. This was enough rising for me.

But you know what makes everything better?

Yes, that's right: BUTTER. Just a little bit over the top before it went in.

And then a little bit when it came out.

Pretty, ain't she? But not as tall as I'd hoped, so more decoration was required.

A simple glaze from icing sugar and lemon juice squirted out of a ziplock bag and a few sliced almonds later...

Er...um...how about more sugar?

That's better! Good enough for me to bring in. Although the official bake off is tomorrow, it looks as if turnout will be low. I thought it best that people dig in now while the cake is fresh, and simply report back as judges tomorrow. When I made this suggestion, it was happily received.

But how does it taste, you ask? 

I DON'T KNOW BECAUSE I CAN'T HAVE ANY SUGAR, YOU INSENSITIVE CLOD!

But here's the recipe which I am too lazy to type up:

Bakewell Tart

Several months back, my family and I visited scenic Pill, home of the Pill Shooter and the launching place of the Methodists when they sailed off for North America.

There is a small cafe there, nothing too extraordinary, but we stopped for a cuppa one day and decided to sample one of their bakewell tarts. It was far superior to anything Mr Kipling has to offer, so I vowed we should make one sometime for our local congregation of catholics.

Some 4 months later I finally got around to doing it. The first recipe to come up on my Google search was one of the GBBO's Mary Berry. It looked simple enough, so I gave it a shot.

She wanted me to do the pastry with my hands, but I instead my usual method of grating the butter into the flour. This makes it a good size for pastry purposes.

Nothing too exciting here, just a simple butter and flour mix.

Plus enough cold water to be able to bring it all together.

I put the lump that turned into inside my fridge, then rolled it out in a haphazard fashion to produce the following result:

One day I will master the art of rolling out pastry...just not today. I used the rolling pin to just roll along the top and cut off the edge. and then set my oven to heat up while I popped this in the fridge to help it keep its shape while baking.

Meanwhile I worked on the filling of melted butter and sugar...

Plus egg, ground almonds, and almond extract.

Frangipane, or something like that. I like to think of the cottage of Hansel and Gretel when I read that word - that in the windows she had frangipanes. You wouldn't be able to see anything out of frangipanes, but they'd sure taste nice.

Now that the oven was hot, I put a big sheet of baking paper on top of the pastry and in went my "pie weights". I've been baking this jar full of pulses for about 12 years now.

I baked the shell for a while with them in, then took out the weights and baking paper.

Then put the shell back in to dry out a bit more.

Onto the warm pastry went a thick layer of raspberry jam.

Then the frangipane mixture.

And last of all, a scattering of almonds.

Then into the oven at went. It said to check and cover it with foil to prevent over-browning halfway through the bake but I ignored that, resulting the following appearance:

Oh. Oops. It was well received nonetheless, and I think I may make it again sometime. Maybe next time I'll even remember to put the glaze drizzle on the top when it's cooling.

The recipe I used was as follows:

Ingredients

For the shortcrust pastry

• 175g/6oz plain flour
• 75g/2½oz chilled butter
• 2-3 tbsp cold water

For the filling

• 1 tbsp raspberry jam
• 125g/4½oz butter
• 125g/4½oz caster sugar
• 125g/4½oz ground almonds
• 1 free-range egg, beaten
• ½ tsp almond extract
• 50g/1¾oz flaked almonds

For the icing

• 80g/2¾oz icing sugar
• 2½ tsp cold water

Preparation method

1. To make the pastry, measure the flour into a bowl and rub in the butter with your fingertips until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. Add the water, mixing to form a soft dough.
   Technique: Rubbing in
   Watch technique0:46 mins
2. Roll out the dough on a lightly floured work surface and use to line a 20cm/8in flan tin. Leave in the fridge to chill for 30 minutes.
3. Preheat the oven to 200C/400F/Gas 6 (180C fan).
4. Line the pastry case with foil and fill with baking beans. Bake blind for about 15 minutes, then remove the beans and foil and cook for a further five minutes to dry out the base.
   Technique: How to blind bake pastry
   Watch technique1:39 mins
5. For the filing, spread the base of the flan generously with raspberry jam.
6. Melt the butter in a pan, take off the heat and then stir in the sugar. Add ground almonds, egg and almond extract. Pour into the flan tin and sprinkle over the flaked almonds.
7. Bake for about 35 minutes. If the almonds seem to be browning too quickly, cover the tart loosely with foil to prevent them burning.
8. Meanwhile, sift the icing sugar into a bowl. Stir in cold water and transfer to a piping bag.
9. Once you have removed the tart from the oven, pipe the icing over the top, giving an informal zig zag effect.

Victoria Sponge

It's official now - I'm British! And for you BNP candidates out there, don't worry, I'm of UK ancestry so you needn't shout "go back where you come from!" because, well, I have.

It seemed only proper to mark the occasion with suitable cuisine. On the day of my citizenship ceremony (the mention of which draws curious looks from Brits and solemn nods of understanding from all my North American friends) I was served tea and biscuits by my fellow countrymen. We feasted on steak and ale pie that evening, and then I decided to bake a couple things for work: a lemon drizzle cake and a Victoria Sponge.

I'd never actually made a simple Victoria Sponge before - I'd done variations of the recipe by adding lemon zest to the batter and using a buttercream icing, but I figured it was time to do the real thing, the traditional simple sponge with nothing but jam and cream to fill it. The one thing I did do, under Nigella's urging, was add vanilla to the batter. I mean, what cake doesn't taste nicer with a bit of vanilla added?

I did the usual creaming method of my house: batter fridge cold butter with a wooden spoon until it's pretty much creamed.

Who are these people with room temperature butter anyway? Yes, I always end up with a lump or two in my creamed butter, but that's a small price to pay for not having to play the lottery game of softening butter in the microwave.

Meh, good enough.

In went the eggs once by one with a spoonful of the flour mix. The super secret is to make sure the recipe has a bit of cornflour in with the regular flour - this keeps the cake moist. You know how people mix box cake mixes with instant pudding mix? Same idea - instant pudding is basically cornflour and sugar.

The spoonful of flour is meant to stop the mixture from curdling. It works half the time with me - I think possibly because my butter is too cold still.

It didn't work this time.

It's ok, it'll still rise and be just fine. We've moved on to my favourite spatula here as the batter is getting nice and, well, batter-y. Not battery - that's a serious matter.

In went the rest of the flour mix.

Plus a splash of milk to help make it runny enough to spread easily in the pan.

Mmmm...cake batter. Now to restrain myself so that I don't eat the whole bowlful.

Instead it went into these matching, lined cake tins.

Well, most of it anyway. I am human.

When they came out, they looked like this (minus the mark where I put in the knife to see if it was done).

It helps when baking them not to accidentally tilt one on top of the other one so that a layer bakes as thin as a cookie on one side and thick as a Gideon's bible on the other.

Not that I've done that.

Ahem.

As soon as they were out I ran a knife around the side and turned it out to peel off the paper...

Then put it in some foil.

This foil parcel was then put straight into the freezer. This keeps all the moisture in, (dry cake = bad cake) and keeps the sponge from falling apart during the decorating later. It only takes a couple hours for the cake to thaw out, so you don't need to take it out that much more before serving. Or, if you are doing a buttercream icing, you can seal in all the moisture by icing it while the cake is still frozen, ensuring a moist cake.

So, the day of the delivery I just unwrapped it...

Then flipped it so that the flat side was on top for easy spreading of filling.

On one cake went a layer of seedless raspberry jam. I leave a gap around the side as inevitably the two layers get smooshed later when folk are slicing the cake and I don't want too much filling to spurt out the sides.

On the other side went some freshly whipped cream.

Then the two sides met. It looks a bit sad here, but that way people know it's homemade.

A sprinkling of icing sugar was put on top to complete it all, and into the office it went. I did this at around 8 am, and I confess the cake was still a bit cold (though not frozen) when my enthusiastic colleague cut into it at 10:30am. The staff room was quite cool, and my commute was icy, so it had been somewhat slowed in its thawing. By the time the rest of the staff tucked in after lunch, it had all reached room temperature and much swooning was done. They were even kind enough to give me my own Union Jack flag for my desk along with a photo of her majesty Queen Elizabeth II, God save her.

Victoria Sponge (from Nigella Lawson's How to be a Domestic Goddess)

225g unsalted butter
225g caster sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
4 large eggs

200g self-raising flour
25g cornflour (note you can use 225g self-raising flour instead - Nigella believes the addition of corn-flour makes for a "lighter, more tender sponge".3-4 tablespoons milk

a few Tablespoons seedless raspberry jam

as much double cream as you fancy, softly whipped

A few Tablespoons icing sugar

Preheat oven to 180C and line two 8" round cake tins

1) Cream butter and sugar

2) Add eggs and vanilla one by one, each with a spoonful of the flour

3) stir in rest of flour

4) add as much milk as needed to get a smooth, easily spreadable batter

5) Evenly divide batter between two tins, and bake until lightly brown and a knife comes out cleanish (anywhere from 18-35 minutes, depending on your oven)

6) Run a knife around the edge of the tins to release cakes then flip out to remove paper

7) Wrap layers individually in foil and freeze until day required

8) Unwrap layers with flat side up, then spread one side with jam and the other with cream then smoosh them together. Sift icing sugar over the top and let sit out until thawed (a couple hours at room temperature).