Forget that…. Nigella is the TV chef equivalent of dragging your nails down a chalk board. I most certainly WASN’T making those ridiculous cow eyes from beneath heavy lashes, nor wobbling my gargantuan breasts over saucepans of boiling liquid, nor using the most unnecessary language possible to describe the cooking process. Let us rename this post instead ‘In which I channel my inner Delia’….
And the reason? Well, somehow, and i’m not sure how, I woke up this morning with a lovely shiney halo above my head and a huge neon sign outside my house, flashing on and off, which read “DOMESTIC GOD LIVES HERE”! Even more bizarre – my fear and ignorance of all things kitchen related had completely dissipated! I’ve been cooking the odd meal here and there, but under strict guidance and with a lot of flapping about. Today, though, totally different kettle of fish! Maybe its because I spent all of yesterday afternoon/early evening stood outside the cottage with a boiler engineer holding a torch up so that he could see what he was doing. We diagnosed 3 different faults and he talked me through (quite thoroughly!) how to repair them! I’m guessing that since I am now more intimately acquainted with my oil fired boiler system than I am anything else in my life that kitchen appliances just suddenly didn’t seem that scary! BTW – this unexpected event explains the delay in posting – For those of you that got in touch to find out if it snowed, it did but not a great deal and has been replaced today by gale force winds and torrential rain….
Anyhow….. Back to my culinary brilliance….. I sauntered into the kitchen this morning and wondered what I was going to do with these, especially since I’d already replaced them with a nice bag of hard, green ones….
Banana bread of course! Although, why it’s called ‘bread’ i’ll never know…. I imagine it’s because it gives some spurious sense of the sugary mass being healthier than a big ole slab of cake…. WRONG! I started following a recipe that I found online, but Delia took over and I lost all inhibitions! When I then discovered that there were errors in the recipe (telling me to add ingredients that weren’t listed!) I went off-road and made it up as I went along. I tried to engage a little Mary Berry Wisdom first, but she was working on an entirely different principle, and then even gave the loathesome Nigella a shot but she, typically, had added some 12 or 13 additional elements to the recipe despite proclaiming that she’d ‘hardly touched this one’….. So here it is. Mothers Ruin Banana Cake (mine is definitely a cake as I didn’t have a loaf tin!)
5 bananas – mashed
250g self raising flour
75g soft salted butter
200g sugar (I just used white granulated!)
1 tsp bicarb
1 tsp salt
1 egg (most recipes called for 2 but I mistakenly thought I only had 1, before finding another box full some 3 hrs later)
1 tsp vanilla extract (well, I used flavouring in the absence of anything stronger!)
And the method?
Err…. Mix it all together! I used a wooden spoon first and then attacked it with an electric mixer!
Check out my sexy mixing bowl!
Can you see how organised I was too? Very ‘Blue Peter’, I had all of my ingredients laid out in their own bowls in readiness!
Sexier still was my apron – sewn from hickory stripe denim by moi! (Excuse the dogs loitering at the edge in this one! I think they were hoping for a dropped banana…..or perhaps they were just entranced by my newly discovered domesticity!)
After whizzing it up it should look like this….
And after baking (I went with 160 degrees for 80 mins, but your guess is as good as mine really! Bake it til it’s done!) it looked like this….
Err! Hello! I made that! And it tastes like it is supposed to too!!!
Feeling cocky I moved onto the main course! Curry for the husband’s dinner! I know! Me! Curry! From scratch! Ha!
Here’s the marinade…
A little cream, a little simmering, a little rice…. Done!
And Nathan’s verdict?……
“Err…. It’s a bit salty”….
Oh, Delia! WHY hast thou forsaken me?!