Sunday, 21 September 2008

Quick! Before the internet dies!

Sudafed and Nurofen biohazard brownies with a despair topping.
A Nigella fave. Nigella recommends you serve this delicious treat straight from the cooking tray with your filthy hands, accompanied by the prescription pharmaceutical of your choice.

Darlings, it’s been a trying weekend. Three cases of man flu and one heavy cold, a trip to a medieval fayre (complete with authentically medieval facial deformities, dentistry and drunkenness) do not make for domestic harmony. Also WHERE ARE MY FUCKING INTERNETS. Let’s gloss over this nest of ridiculousness however and instead, let me give you my Easy Living-esque tips for ‘simple’ ‘delicious’ birthday brownies (not approved by the Health and Safety Executive) for the malingering snorer in your life. Lucky, lucky you!

Two days before intended recipient’s birthday, get really really sick. Snotty, disgusting sick. Decide to make cake anyway. With two small snotty fellow sufferers.

Look at Nigella’s book of domestic badness. Choose brownies on basis that they don’t need to rise. Rising seems way, way beyond you at this point. Also, malingering snorer likes chocolate. Result.

Take snotty hordes to corner shop for supplies. Realise on arrival at corner shop that one of you is wearing snoring malingerer’s white plastic thongs, and the other two of you are in socks. Buy supplies from Damien. Usual sleazy “compliments” conspicuous by their absence. Go home very quickly.

Get out shit loads (that’s an imperial measure. 375g, metric people) of butter and chocolate. Marvel at quantity. Realise there is slightly less than there should be as a large slab is wedged horizontally in smaller child’s mouth. Allow small children to heat – yeah yeah fire, bad. Fall into reverie at smell of chocolate. Mmm. Chocolate.

Remember noone has washed their hands. Fuck it, too late now.

Realise that, improbable as it seems, you do not have enough sugar (500g). Inveigle prog rock step dad into going for sugar. He, at least, is able to locate his shoes.

Send snot monsters outside to ‘cool chocolate and butter mixture slightly’. Smaller monster has bright idea of using Lightning McQueen mini fan to cool the giant vat of hot buttery chocolate. Immersion of Lightning McQueen mini fan in giant vat of hot buttery chocolate gives interesting spatter patterns all over walls and windows. Catch smaller child licking walls, whilst larger child licks fan. Admire own prescience in deciding this should be an outside activity.

Set older child, slightly wiped, to breaking walnuts (300g). Arm larger child with rolling pin. Put nuts in plastic bag on tray. Stand back. Start mixing (six) eggs (attempt to remove larger pieces of shell where possible) with sugar. Fall into a trance once more, hypnotised by the whirring of the Kitchenaid. Remember how much you love Kitchenaid (inappropriate Christmas present from malingerer, falling into the outlawed ‘domestic appliance’ category) even though slightly dull silver finish. Wish Kitchenaid was pistachio green. Or almond.

Shocked back to the present with a bang, as walnut fragments spatter all over kitchen as plastic bag bursts. Older child zealously decides to stamp on them all with feet. Mysteriously, older child now has his shoes on. How did this happen? Wipe nuts hastily and add to mixture, along with eggs/sugar/eggshell mixture.

Allow elder child to add (200g) flour. Approximately 140g falls down front of elder child’s jumper. Brush elder child’s front into bowl as best as possible. Remainder goes on floor, to join walnut fragments, sugar, chocolate and residual filth.

Pour mixture into tin, aided by small children, using their hands. Fail to prevent small children from sinking hands into mixture and swirling around. Keep them at bay with large wooden spoon and give them giant pan to lick.

Whilst your back is turned placing deliciously simple brownie cake in oven (190°, 25 minutes), small children have managed to coat their entire torsos in chocolate mixture. Smaller child in particular now appears as two malevolent eyes in a mass of brown goo, reminiscent of Père Fouettard (of whom, much MUCH more later).

Wrap upper bodies of chocolate coated children in several rolls of kitchen towel. Escort upstairs with the aid of a large wooden spoon poked in small of back when either appears likely to touch something. Place children in bath. Hose down with shower. Remember, whilst hosing, that you have forgotten the teaspoon of salt.

Fall into another somnolent trance in corner of bathroom, dreaming of Sinutab and hot water bottles. Fail to see small children have emptied two bottles of shampoo in bath. Once children are de-foamed, remember brownie cake, which has been in the oven for considerably longer than 25 minutes. Remove slightly blackened (‘crunchy’) cake. Remove smallest child’s fingers from centre of blackened cake. Scrape blackened bits off with fingernails.

Coat with nuclear pink sweets. Squabble over number of candles; decide on sparklers instead. Foil larger child’s plan to bite holes in all the nuclear pink sweets in order to accommodate sparklers. Replace nuclear pink sweets eaten by smaller child in meantime. Supply larger child with exact same number of nuclear pink sweets to ensure fairness. Listen to lengthy dispute about relative size of sweets.

Short circuit argument with FIRE! Fail to coordinate lighting of sparklers. As each dies, the next whooshes to life. Give up on synchronised sparkler display. Rouse grumpy malingering snorer from afternoon of sitting in chair listening to Squarepusher and dreaming of spreadsheets and dancing tortoises. Sing. Eat sweets. Discard cake. Fall into sugar coma.

Later, find five walnut halves down bra.


blogthatmama said...

What a photo and who is that man? Is that pere Fouettard? You'd go to prison in England for publishing that! Laughing my head off at that post...

justme said...

LOL! My weekend was quite calm by comparison.....what would I do without you getting it all in perspective for me????

Kitschen Pink said...

Sweetie you should have phoned - I'd have brought you brownies! Well, I could have posted a picture for the virtual version. I think you're a baking heroine! t.x

Potty Mummy said...

Is Pere Fouettard related to Black Peter in the Netherlands, by any remote chance?

Anonymous said...


It's usually me fishing detritus out of my capacious cups and being spattered with the latest noxious substance. I do sympathise!

Mr Farty said...

This is the Best Recipe Ever! "Discard cake" - perfick!

When I first looked at the photo, I thought those were syringes. Is that just me?

mountainear said...

Brilliant - that's one in the eye for both childcare and 'elf 'n' safety'.

Had to enlarge photo to discover that what I thought were hypodermic syringes were in fact candles. And there I was thinking you'd taken cake decorating to a new level.

Alyson said...

In America, the stores sell brownie mix in boxes (just add water, oil and egg). It's perfect for those days when making from scratch just isn't a good idea.

Although, your version is much more entertaining then added oil, water, egg, baked, ate.

Red Shoes said...

Wow, you poor thing. I feel like a really bad person for laughing at your misfortune. Please feel better soon, all of you germ-ridden snotters.

peevish said...

I, too, thought they were syringes, and that you were actually "baking heroine", not a baking heroine.

I adore Nigella, but my favorite brownie recipe is Nigel Slater's. As thick and dark as Glastonbury mud, according to him. According to me, it is as irresistible as the rhythm of jungle drums. Which is why I hardly ever make them. The recipe makes too many.

And here I've gone off again, all about me when you need someone to come over and take care of you and yours. Poor darling, I hope the man flu is packing its bags and leaving right this second!

Jaywalker said...

Fuck. Now I wish I had used hypodermics. Opportunity missed there.

The pic is Père Fouettard BTM, and yes, PM, the very same. This tradition will come under close scrutiny soon on these pages.

Hi Alyson - they have them here too, but I am a masochist and feel that if a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing really badly and unhygenically...

Red Shoes and Peevish, we are fine, really. The rest of them are still snotty, but I am sufficiently recovered to laugh at them. Peevish, do the Slater brownies come with the intriguing gritty crunch of eggshell and filth?

Dani said...

Oh no. Man flu. You poor thing.

If it helps any, or even if it doesn't. I have bestowed an award upon you.

katyboo1 said...

God, I wish I had read this over the weekend. I would have laughed all over my toxic goo.

Jaywalker said...

Dani - ooh yes. Man flu times three. Badness.

Katyboo - glad you didn't try any baking with what was going on in your throat.. Is it any better? I was wincing!

Anonymous said...

Nothing quite like a cake made by kids. They should sell it in every pharmacy - it does wonders for immune system. I used to work in a creche and eat all the (snot)cake we made with the kids. I had a permanent cold for the first 3 months and now I never get them!

Jaywalker said...

TT - You are so right. Snot cake - cheaper than a flu jab and twenty times more effective!

Helena said...

Fantastically hilarious. You're a great writer and baker.
Hope you feel better. I am on my second child donated cold in three weeks. It's the season for them (from now until Christmas).

william said...

I bought this waffle iron on hammer drop great deal and great machine the waffles are so light and fluffy you not even know your eating waffles.My daughter came home one day and used the machine and wants this machine.
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