Beaten & Creamed by Beaten & Creamed

First edition

john whaite

pushing the

eric lanlard

versus

limit with

channels

michel roux jr

booze cakes

marcel proust

f r o m d o m e s t i c pa s t i m e t o s t y l e s tat e m e n t .

ping guide: sîan-estelle petty

Mixing Victoriana with Mr McGregor’s garden, this thick double oven glove is designed by a former florist and theatre designer. The Rabbit & Cabbage range also includes a matching apron and tea towel.

This classic red and white Tunnock’s caramel design instantly takes us back to our childhood. It’s handmade from 100% unbleached cotton by a small UK-based family business, with a screenprint design from Glasgow School of

contents

k e e p yo u r s e l f a n d our surroundings

ee from grease and

Rabbit and Cabbage double oven glove:

burns with these l o v e ly l i n e n s

£27 from Thornback and Peel

Tunnock’s Caramel apron: £20 from Gillian Kyle.com

www.thornbackandpeel.co.uk

www.gilliankyle.com

m o v e a s i d e s a n t a , t h e r e i s o n ly o n e t r u e p a t r o n s a i n t o f b a k i n g a n d it’s saint honoré, the bishop who put the pie in pious

e x p lo r i n g t h e lo s t v i c t o r i a n fa s h i o n f o r m a r k i n g p e o p l e ’ s pa s s i n g w i t h s p e c i a l ly c o m m i s s i o n e d d u n k e r s

Words: Dr Richard Coyle

Words: Carla Valentine

This shopping colorful 1950s/60s design by Daphne Padden (1927-2009) began life as a paper collage. Now gracing this linen union tea towel

w could we resist this n Gosling tea towel? member, it’s for your es, not for drying off after ath, you naughty person.

From quirky kitchen linens to cake stands

n Gosling tea towel: £10 m ToDryFor.com

Kitchen Baking tea towel: £12 from ToDryFor.com

w.todryfor.com

www.todryfor.com

death Bring nature indoors by with this beautiful illustration of an animals’ tea party. The extra-long waist straps allow you to secure it in an elegant bow.

from nigell a to

‘splosh’

and

‘wet

biscuits Vroom, vroom!

Illustrations: Penelope Beech

cannibalism of their dearly departed kinsmen. They were the first humans to attribute some higher

of the corpse to return their essence or spirit to the tribe. Sometimes this was done with only a representative portion of the flesh but often it involved most, or the entire, cadaver. Pieces of the body “ t h e r e wa s a were apportioned to different members of the family or m e ta m o r p h o s i s tribe to consume according of all these to traditional cultural rules, i n i t i a l ly g r u e s o m e and sometimes even the bones were macerated and customs into devoured with honey. o n e t h a t i n v o lv e d Throughout The a lot more res traint Middle Ages (c.1600) in Europe there was a tradition and grace on of consuming a corpset h e s u r fac e : cake, which was a symbolic version of the cannibalism the funeral biscuit” duciae net re nobiscit ra voluptatem aceptur mi, sus, que previously described. After the body had19been washed and wrapped in clean linen, meaning to death, and to the woman of the house ceremoniously prepare their would prepare some dough dead. Part of these rites and leave it to rise on the involved the consumption chest of the cadaver,

divine baking This Bite me! Naughty or nice? fabulously flirty apron will With a nod to 50s housewife get you zipping round the chic, you can decide which, kitchen in style. The heartwhile you’re wearing this in remembrance of me,” the passing of the flesh from this shaped pocket is a great sweet world into the next was already but cheeky appliquéd being memorialised with an place to edible ceremonyapron. or custom.

Marking death with dunkers

this: fact, legend and history. one was the shock greater than his old nursemaid, faithfully The fact is easy: ituals and breadoffordeath the family St Honoré lends his baking baking have when she cast heardtheir the name to an exquisite patisserie, at home Her incredulity was made in his honour with a news. sombre echoes across specific St Honoré crème. such that she declared she millennia of different cultures The legend is also satisfyingly would believe the truth of theonly grisly Honoratus’ from elevation if light and delicate of flavour.and St religions, cannibalistic beginnings the wooden peel she had been using tomen, bake with was buried,to of cave through put down roots and grew into communion “ b a k e r s w h o r i p p e dChristian a tree. She buried it and a fruit and tree theduly ‘sinappeared, eaters’providing of the off the popul ace were middle ages. While France some the pious of northern dropped in a basket 40 blackberries for a will with forever be consigned feet into a pool remarkable 1,000books, years. the to the history As for the history, of mud” forgotten custom Parisian Victorian bakers embraced of baking up afor batch St Honoratus distinctlyof medieval reasons of and ‘funeral biscuits’ is piety perhaps punishment.tradition In 1205 that a richis Honoré was born in Port one Le macabre Grand in northern France at Parisian baker named Renold worth a revival. some point in the sixth century. Theriens donated some land Jesus inof city tobefore build a chapel He was noble born but humble to theLong of the saint. Itsaid became the and so it came as a surpriseNazareth to honour reputedly a centre of influence for the everyone when he was elected words, “Take, Eat: Do this Bishop of Amiens, but to no- powerful guild of bakers.

Paleolithic humans indulged in the ritual

The sweet epiphanies of Saint Honoré

Fox & Hare apron: £30 from Notonthehighstreet.com

14 Flora apron: £20 from The Messy Baker

15 Appliquéd bite me apron: £26 from Sewlomax

notonthehighstreet.com

messybaker.co.uk

sewlomax.com

image: sophia al-irimi

ho is the patron saint of the baker? Some give St Nicholas this exalted honour but little is known of the fourth century episcopate, who is better known as the portly festive figure in the red jacket – largely a confection of the Dutch settlers in North America and fizzy drink marketing. Nicholas is venerated in the East as the patron saint of Turkey, children, sailors, pawnbrokers, Greeks and, disputably, bakers. But St Nicholas makes a poor candidate for the patron saint of bakers. To anyone who really knows their baking and their saints, that is to say the French, St Honoré (or Honoratus) of Amiens is the rightful occupant of the title. There are three reasons for

11 pLAyS MARcEL pROuST ERIc LANLARD

a n d m e s s y ’ dat i n g w e b s i t e s , s o m e

to n i g h t , m at t h e w , i ' m g o i n g to i n d u lg e m y p ro u s t i a n fa n c i e s

p e o p l e t a k e t h e i r l o v e o f c a k e t o o l i t e r a l ly , a s f o o d f e t i s h i s i n g t h e s t i c k y u n d e r s i d e o f ba k i n g . w i l l s o m e bo dy t h i n k o f t h e c h i l d r e n ? !

Words: Andrew James Williams

Images: Sophia al-Irimi

u n f o r t u n a t e ly , t h e y a l r e a d y h av e . . .

Words: Charlie Wright

Cake guilt in the red light zone

Meanwhile, the alleged bedhopping sexploits of baking’s first superstar Paul Hollywood whip the redtops into a soft peak. Cake fetishism might have reached its soft-core apogee with the everyday ‘food porn’ of BBC2, Channel 4 and the digibox 190-somethings, where silver-spoon sexpots breathlessly dip digits in tubs of forbidden goop... and suck. But for several years the nowdefunct magazine Splosh! catered for true cake fetishists: fans of WAM, the ‘wet and messy fetish’. Typically this involved drenching female ‘models’, often fully dressed, in food - mostly sweet stuff (although baked beans were an acceptable conduit for

those with a wheat intolerance). With its sticky pages lost to the nation’s suburban attics, Splosh! the brand endures via the internet, offering shots of endearingly homely models called Mucky Bunny Girl or Kustardy Kate sousing themselves in viscous goodies. The website has a gently parochial feel and might even elicit a mistyeyed grading from Mary Berry. It is frankly difficult to imagine people deriving a thrill from the pictures beyond Robin Askwith, Confessions-of-anArtisan-Baker phwoaring. Food porn - both sploshing and the Nigella kind - does not seem to turn people off either food or sex,

ccording to the 2011 national Census, installment of the seven-part literary box-set 84% of people who ticked ‘literary solipsist-fest, Eric Lanlard steps into the prig’ as their main occupation slippers of his sickbed-bound countryman, claimed to have bandied the phrase ‘Proustian’ who penned much of the book from a corkin the past week; precisely lined room. We caught 0.03% of those admitted to up with him not in a trudging through Marcel sanatorium, but indulging “ i wa s c o c k y a n d Proust’s languorous nona mid-morning snack at confident; i said to thriller ‘In search of lost the Jumeirah Carlton t h e pat i s s e r i e ow n e r s , time’ - the 3,400??-page Tower hotel, for which he novel that’s succinctly designs afternoon teas. ‘ i wa n t t o d o m y summed up as ‘Man dunks The indefatigably a p p r e n t i c e s h i p h e r e ’. cake in tea, remembers cheerful Eric might not stuff from childhood’. be a shoe-in to play the they said, ‘we don’t Even Harold misery-prone Marcel in do child l abour’” Pinter thought it could our cake-festooned scene do with an executive opposite. But what the summary, which he 45-year-old honorary Brit obliged by slimming down the bloated, semi- - having arrived in the UK at the age of 22 autobiographical account of a high-society does have in common is a) being French; b) a mummy’s boy’s bad table manners into a ‘Proustian’ transformative childhood memory digestible 200-page?? screenplay. of cake; and c) a set of pyjamas with a high Now, one hundred years after the first thread count.

cakehole

interview

Cake-mess fetishism is happening near you

Eric Lanlard plays Marcel Proust

duciae

net re nobiscit ra voluptatem aceptur mi, sus, que

Image: Sophia al-Irimi

nutrition

ake porn is out there. It is happening right now in respectable suburban kitchens, beneath crumbstrewn duvets and, perhaps, in the shady backroom of a boulanger near you. There exists a thriving subculture of people who take their cake-loving literally - pavlova-Casanovas for whom the lubricants of lust are custard and cream. The boundaries between sex and baking have never been thinner. These days London’s Soho wafts its whore’s perfume of £4 cupcakes; sex shops are outnumbered by erotic cake emporia; and beneath shifty gents’ raincoats rustle brown paper bags sheathing grainy Great British Bake Off bootlegs.

image: sue lyn ting

e r i c l a n l a r d a k a c a k e b oy

Duciae net re nobiscit ra voluptatem aceptur mi, sus, que

1st WINNER

a l c o h o l i c c u p c a k e s a r e h u g e ly p o p u l a r b u t c a n t h e y t i p yo u ov e r t h e d r i n k - d r i v i n g l i m i t ?

p a i r i n g c h e e s e w i t h c a k e wa s e i t h e r g o i n g t o b e a n e x e r c i s e

Words: Chris Mercer

i n s wa l l o w i n g a g a g r e f l e x o r a n e p i c u r e ’ s e p i p h a n y , s o w e

Words: Patrick McGuigan

D c an c ake break down social barriers? i n s p i r e d by a rt p rovo c at e u r b i l l d ru m m o n d ’ s

‘cake

circles’ concept,

b &c k n o c k e d o n r a n d o m d o o r s i n b r i ta i n ’ s m o s t n e g l e c t e d tow n to s e e w h at r e ac t i o n wo u l d g r e e t a n o f f e r i n g of free cake from a stranger

Words: Keith Cooper

Images: Andrew James Williams & Philip Jones

avid Bowie and Mick Jagger prancing the boundaries of human knowledge to new limits, around a warehouse in the 1980s as they Beaten & Creamed decided to sit about in a bakery desecrated the memory of Motown classic eating lots of cake and cheese to see what worked Dancing in the Street was a perfect example of how and what had us humming bad ‘80s cover versions. Top cheesemonger Paxton & Whitfield emptied two rights can make a big fat wrong. The Bowie-Jagger axis of wrongness its cellar of fromage into Gail’s Artisan Bakery, which provided the cake (good name for a band) (with additional loaf cakes could equally apply to food. from Marks & Spencer and Peaches and anchovies Waitrose). should never mix – I speak “we’d almost given up After sampling some from drunken experience –

30-odd combinations, the o n f i n d i n g a c a k e t h at despite being glorious on their results were conclusive: own. Likewise prawns and c o u l d m atc h t h e m i g h t cheese and cake is a corking chocolate. of roquefort – some combination. There were But what about very few bad pairings, lots of cheese and cake? They are c o m b i n at i o n s w e r e extremely decent ones and a certainly two of the greatest prett y disgusting” handful of matches that were foods known to mankind and far greater than the sum of there is actually precedence their parts. for putting the two together. Cakes with dried fruit Lancashire cheese and Eccles cake is a classic combo that has become a signature and spice (fruitcake, Eccles, plum bread) were dish on the menu at St John in London, while perfect partners for pretty much any type of cheese, Christmas cake and a wodge of Stilton has always acting like a substitute for chutney. We also learned it is important not to skimp on the fromage. A been a festive favourite in my household. In the spirit of adventure and pushing 50/50 cheese-to-cake ratio is about right.

48 Tymsboro aged goat’s cheese and Gail’s chocolate brownie

ocktail cakes slick with hard liquor are across the UK capital. oozing subversion all over the nation’s “I’ve been going for just over a year baking scene, but how drunk can you and I’m doing a lot of cakes for burlesque and really get on them? And is there a risk of getting cabaret,” says Amanda. “They’re quite naughty collared by the fuzz on your drive home? Beaten people, so they wouldn’t want anything without & Creamed persuaded some nervous associates booze in it.” Bourbon-soaked cakes have proven to make a selfless sacrifice by attempting to get a particular hit, especially at burlesque night drunk on alcoholic cupcakes. Gypsy Hotel in London, she adds. Using alcohol in But, how does baking is nothing new, but consuming alcohol in injecting pure spirits into this way alter our senses, “we herded a group finished batches of cakes is compared to just having a little more extreme, and a drink? Could you, for of bemused volunteers definitely more rock n roll, example, drive home legally and bought the best than your average tiramisu. after binging on booze cakes? d i g i ta l b r e at h o m e t e r One imagines bakers To find out, we of this ilk lurking under herded a group of bemused ava i l a b l e a t h a l f o r d s railway bridges, furtively volunteers and bought the f or under £25” emerging from a kind of best digital breathometer Dickensian London gloom to available at Halfords for offer passers-by a spongy hit under £25, plus a few blowfrom their glinting syringes. in-bag tester kits. In keeping “Fancy a little tickle with that, sir?” with a vague attachment to the scientific process, But, it’s not like that for Amanda everyone was ordered to abstain from both eating Whelan. At least, not as far as we know. Instead, and alcohol for a few hours beforehand. Amanda, aka Cake Follies, is serving up her One carrier bag of spirits, 43 cakes and boozy sweet treats at a growing number of venues nine doorbell rings later, and the scene

cheese & cake matching

cake circles

The art of gifting cake with The KLF’s Bill Drummond 48

Yes, you read that right. Goat’s cheese and chocolate brownie was the clear cake and cheese champion. In the cake corner, with a steely glint in its eye, was an insanely rich, salted brownie made with three types of chocolate at 53%, 70% and 100% cocoa content. In the curd corner, wearing the white trunks, was a six-toseven-week aged pyramid of Tymsboro, with almond notes and a proper goaty tang. You might think they would beat seven bells out of each other, but the flavours were perfectly attuneed. Rich, silky and intense, it was a sexy Argentine tango rather than a punch up.

image: rebecca fennell

gail’s artisan bakery to find out

image: sophia al-irimi

e n l i s t e d t o p c h e e s e e m p o r i u m pa x t o n & w h i t f i e l d a n d

duciae net re nobiscit ra voluptatem aceptur mi, sus, que

alcoholic cupcakes

Our top five sweet and savoury combinations

Can they push you over the limit?

BAkERS VS cHEfS

o s da n g l e t h e i r m e at u n d e r t h e menfolk, luring them into the

Words: Andrew James Williams

Illustration: Sophia al-Irimi & Antonia Peña

s of afternoon tea with hard

s, are the growin g number of

ntlemen’ teas mere bluster?

Wright

hard rnoon olism. e shot

casion ccated mpetbreed ns and ool as

o join ndantyears thing. ls and herers cock-

Illustration: Andrea Kett

rocking master bakers? A host of boutique hotels and restaurants are trying, with standalone teas just for gents. “I think it’s driven by the media,” says Nick Cuadrado, consultant chef at the Reform Social & Grill in London’s Mandeville Hotel, which has offered its own tea for gents since 2010. “The huge public interest in baking has helped our sales dramatically.” For now, much of the marketing is couched in retro imagery and coy, postcolonial irony. But the menus are bolder, stretching the concept with booze, boobs and beef – chap-bait tempting enough to pop monocles from the eyes of modish gastronomic steampunks. Cuadrado says: “With our tea we

wanted to give an authentic feel. After all, our cakes and sandwiches were at the height of fashion and sophistication back in the Victorian era. “The largest uptake is generally females who want a different experience. The general perception is that ladies want cucumber sandwiches and fairy cakes. Actually, they also enjoy the more hearty dishes offered on the gentleman’s afternoon tea.” At the Reform, the fare is meaty but otherwise largely traditional. Other establishments opt for the harder currency of liquor or mass-produced confectionery. Jack Daniel’s features prominently – and some efforts are subtler than others. Here B&C samples some of the capital’s new crop.

“the

menus

are bolder,

gents’ afternoon teas

ethical ingredients

bakers vs chefs

Are lagers and Yorkies the answer?

Is Fairtrade chocolate the fairest choice?

Michel Roux Jr & GBBO winner John Whaite

s tretc hing the concept with

booze, boobs & beef”

o r c h o c o l at e i c e c r e a m sa n dw i c h ,

Recipe: Nieves Barragán Mohacho Images: Rebecca Fennell

BAkINg cHOcOLATE TASTE TEST

White chocolate mousse: 200g white chocolate, melted 500ml double cream 15g caster sugar 1 egg 1 egg yolk

w e s c o u r e d t h e s u p e r m a r k e t s t o c o m pa r e t h e b e s t c h o c o l a t e s ava i l a b l e f o r b a k i n g

Benchmark testing: Patrick Moore

Illustration: Natalia Tyulkina

n my previous life as a chef, before I switched to becoming a baker, in order to get hold of a quality chocolate (couverture) with a high cocoa content, I had to use a specialist supplier and pay a massive premium. Back then our supermarket shelves were heavily stocked with only the classic Bourneville (most UK home baking recipes until very recently were based on it), and ‘bakers’ covering’. We were brought up on a diet of lesser-quality milk chocolate in the UK – we didn’t want our chocolate dark, it was too bitter. Dairy Milk led the charge, with its famed glassand-a-half of milk in each bar, squeezing out the cocoa. But chocolate in the UK has come a long way in the past decade. Now you can slip into any supermarket and purchase an array of singleorigin and high-percentage couverture. Our well-informed palettes demand a darker, extra bitter, continental style of chocolate today. Or

chocolate that actually tastes of… chocolate. And it won’t break the bank either. On our shopping trip, Asda was selling a chocolate selected by Leiths School of Food & Wine, no less – for just £1. Even Lidl had three options with over 70% cocoa content for between 79p and £1.09; we opted for the cheaper Rainforest Alliance 74% chocolate because its packaging paradoxically stated it was the ‘Finest’. One odd quirk of pricing was Sainsbury’s Belgian chocolate – £1.39 for 100g in a strokeable cardboard sleeve or £1.50 for twice as much, but in a less chi-chi foil wrapper. Interestingly, Sainsbury’s also sells a ‘Cook’s Belgian dark chocolate’ for £1.50, but this was not in stock on our visit, so failed the ‘regularly available’ test. With such a huge choice, which is best for superlative home baking? Our taste test was performed by a crack team at ‘More?

The Artisan Bakery’ in Staveley, the Lake District. As a reference point we used the ‘More? Muddee’ – quite literally the ultimate chocolate brownie, having once beaten all other fine foods in Britain to bag the coveted Great Taste Awards grand prize. The test was led by the bakery’s Patrick Moore, a regular reviewer for Which? magazine. It was to this recipe to which we added even-sized chunks of each test chocolate and served them up to a tasting panel. All chocolates were blind tasted, with no packaging or accompanying marketing bumph. We marked each of them on overall flavour, texture, melt and ‘the chocolate factor’. These are easily obtainable chocolates and all have between 70% and 74% cocoa content – the benchmark percentage most modern baking recipes use – for as fair a comparison as possible.

i f yo u w i l l

a c h o c o l at e b row n i e w i t h 10 % l e s s g u i l t

1. Preheat the oven to 180°C. Grease and line a circular bizcocho mould or a 10-inch cake tin will do. 2. Begin by creaming together the butter and the icing sugar. Add the melted chocolate – making sure it is not too hot – to the mix and beat together, incorporating the egg yolks. Continue to mix until the mixture has homogenised.

Nuts: 50g pistachios and hazelnuts 1 tbsp sugar

3. Aside, beat the egg whites and add the sugar. Fold the mixture into the chocolate and carefully incorporate the flour and baking powder using a sieve. Continue to fold together and then pour into the baking mould or tin.

Hazelnut ice cream: 200ml single cream “ w e hazelnuts w e r e b r o u g(skinned) ht 100g o n a sugar diet of 15gu pcaster esser-qualit y milk 2legg yolks

4. Bake in the oven for 30 minutes. When finished remove, allow to cool and turn out onto a rack. When ready to assemble, slice the bizcocho into rectangles approximately 4 inches by 2 inches.

chocolate taste test

bocadillo de bizcocho

beetroot brownie

We find the best supermarket baking chocolate

Or a chocolate sandwich, if you will

Disguising your veg in a cake

c h o c o l at e i n the uk

–

da i ry m i l k

led the charge, w i t h i t s fa m e d glass-and-a-half

of milk in eac h bar, squeezing out t h e co coa ”

cipe: Natasha Collins

Instructi 1. Prehea a 20cm ( grease th

Makes 12 Slices

2. Place t microwav slightly b otherwise

Ingredients: 200g dark quality chocolate, chopped 250g butter, chopped 350g muscovado sugar 60g cocoa powder, sifted 155g plain or all-purpose flour, double-sifted ¼ tsp baking powder Pinch of freshly ground chilli flakes Pinch of salt 4 medium eggs 1 tsp vanilla essence 150g beetroot, grated Handful of flaked almonds for decoration Substitutions: You can replace the muscovado sugar with any brown sugar. Whatever you use, this recipe is extremely forgiving. You can fiddle with most of the quantities a little too.

Images: Rebecca Fennell

any edible flowers in of us know that you pansies, but were you edible? Of course, just wer doesn’t mean you bitter taste – and you flavoured chive flower

Never use a flower that has been sprayed with pesticides or other chemicals. Make sure you correctly identify the flower and eat only the edible part. Always wash them carefully and leave them to dry on sheets of kitchen roll. If you are unsure what flowers are edible, there are many reputable sellers of crystallised flowers online such as www. eatmyflowers.co.uk or www.firstleaf.co.uk. I even found my local supermarket selling pots of flowers in its salad section. The following recipe is for a gooseberry and elderflower cake. If you would rather make 12 cupcakes than a sponge, use half the ingredients, divide between 12 cupcake cases and bake for 12-15 minutes.

1. Preheat oven at 110°C (fan assisted). Splash For evenly sized meringues, draw around a a little lemon juice on a piece of kitchen towel pastry cutter to create a guide. Pipe or spoon and wipe the inside of the mixing bowl to the mixture into mounds on your baking ensure it is completely grease-free, otherwise sheet. You may like to use several sheets. your meringue could collapse. Bake in the centre of the oven for 75 to 90 minutes until dry and crisp but still with a 2. Beat the egg whites on a medium speed until chewy centre. you have stiff peaks. Add the caster sugar a spoonful at a time, beating the mixture on full 7. Allow to cool slightly before removing from speed for a few seconds between each addition. the baking sheet (you will hear cracking sounds Take care not to add the sugar too quickly as as they release themselves) and placing on a wire otherwise your meringue will lose structure. rack to cool completely.

f o r a s e co n d ta k e o n

merin gues, try these fresh, light desserts, f l av o u r e d b y green tea powder and lemon.

edible-flower cakes

sugar butterflies

meringue treats

Simple but effective decoration

A how-to guide from the Tattooed Bakers

Making green tea delicacies

Ingredients: 120g egg whites (or the whites of 4 large eggs) 115g caster sugar 115g icing sugar 2 tbsp matcha green tea powder (this creates a punchy flavour so if you would prefer a milder taste, reduce this amount) Lemon curd A little lemon juice (bottled is fine) 200ml (approx) of double cream

3. Sift the green tea and icing sugar into a bowl 8. Place the double cream in a mixing bowl and and gently stir to combine. beat with a hand held whisk until thick. Don’t overbeat as it will return to a runnier state. 4. Sift one third of the sugar and tea mixture into the meringue and gently fold in until 9. Place a good spoonful of lemon curd in a fully combined. separate bowl and loosen with a few drops of lemon juice. Pour this into the double cream 5. Repeat step 5 until all the icing sugar and tea is and swirl, leaving lemony streaks. fully combined with the meringue. Your mixture will have a pale green, speckled appearance. 10. Spoon the cream mixture onto the flat side of half the meringues and sandwich with the 6. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. remaining half. Serve immediately.

Let your eating. I fridge fo

Recipe: Katie Schenk Image: Jurie Potgieter

ing the autumn blues to bed with c ake

a dramatic cake up e that is nonetheless if you don’t have the ng hours perfecting ers are the perfect s some easy-to-make handful of flowers to

This bro less likel the follo of Cake highest you can to backp reader c Sainsbur

meringue profiteroles

agony baker

a child could bake that

How to use up your ageing meringues

Britain’s best baker defuses your cake bombs

Amelia reviews a B&C recipe

For full list of contributors see pages 98-99. Cover image by Sophia Al-Irimi. For all editorial, commercial and distribution queries, get-rich-quick pyramid schemes and unwarranted abuse, email: info@beatenandcreamed.com Follow us @beaten_creamed on Twitter and find us on Facebook. For more details visit www.beatenandcreamed.com. Printed in the UK by Buxton Press on 100% recycled paper. ISSN 2053-6879 Contents © 2013 Beaten & Creamed. All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced without permission from the publisher. Apart from this paragraph. We are ok with that.

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4. Oi, do forego th chocolat the Maya

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6. Bake although your ove not solid for too lo so it’s ext

one to watch Sarah Joanne King, a former product design student at Central St Martins, converted to cake decorating after being made redundant in 2009. Her astonishingly lifelike recreations of savoury foods have taken in everything from cakey vegetable patches (complete with slugs), made for National Baking Week, to sweet-and-not-sour Chinese takeaways. @caking_it

all-algae shortbread

The baking brains at food research centre Campden BRI have used ‘alginate water gel emulsion’ to halve saturated fat in shortbread. Ingenious/tough sell.

l i ly va n i l l i b e e r

Beaten & Creamed enlisted the cake-making talents of the indomitable Cake Follies – maker of the saintly cake that features on B&C’s Twitter and Facebook pages – and a bunch of burlesque misfits to create a decadent sweet banquet celebrating the launch of our first edition. See the video at: beatenandcreamed.com facebook.com/cakefollies

The Independent’s baking columnist, inventor of bleeding heart cakes and uber-hip cafe owner launches a brew. She’s the baker that keeps on giving.

whipped cream highs

Sales of gas canisters for cream whipping are rising as people find ‘alternative’ uses. “Some people have used these ‘inappropriately’!” posted one Amazon commenter.

rising collapsing

cake by numbers

the guernsey gâche

22%

Guernsey’s historical fruit bread could die out after a supermarket group owned by Waitrose (of all people!) pulled the plug on the main Gâche-producing bakery.

over-baked portmanteaux

First, a tug-of-war over who invented the ‘cronut’, then a spat between Bea’s of Bloomsbury and Starbucks over the origins of ‘duffins’. Please, no more mash-ups. t h e pa lt ry p e r c e n tag e o f p e o p l e w h o s ay t h e y a r e sat i s f i e d w i t h supermarket cakes

(source:

cat excrement coffee

Campaigners have blasted £80-a-cup Kopi Luwak, made from semi-digested beans found in civet cat poo, for caging wild animals. Bang goes our morning tipple.

mintel)

shopping w h e t h e r y o u a r e l o o k i n g f o r y o u r s e l f o r wa n t t o t r e a t t h e b a k e r i n y o u r l i f e , w e h av e t r a c k e d d o w n t h e c o v e t a b l e k i t c h e n wa r e t h a t w i l l ta k e yo u r b a k i n g f r o m d o m e s t i c pa s t i m e t o s t y l e s tat e m e n t

shopping guide: sîan-estelle petty

k e e p yo u r s e l f a n d yo u r s u r ro u n d i n g s free from grease and burns with these l o v e ly l i n e n s

You’ll soon be offering to dry the dishes with this egoboosting tea towel. Failing that, it’s a good way to get someone else to do them.

How could we resist this Ryan Gosling tea towel? Remember, it’s for your dishes, not for drying off after a bath, you naughty person.

This colorful retro design by Daphne Padden began life as a paper collage. It will add a splash of colour to the washing up.

You are ace tea towel: £11 from all-tea-towels.co.uk

Ryan Gosling tea towel: £10 from todryfor.com

Kitchen Baking tea towel: £12 from todryfor.com

This classic red and white Tunnock’s caramel design instantly takes us back to our childhood. It’s handmade by a small UK-based family business, with a screenprint design from Glasgow School of Art graduate Gillian Kyle.

Rabbit and Cabbage double oven glove: £27 from thornbackandpeel.co.uk

Tunnock’s Caramel gilliankyle.com

apron:

£20

from

Bring nature indoors with this beautiful illustration of an animals’ tea party. The extralong waist straps allow you to secure it in an elegant bow.

Vroom, vroom! This fabulously flirty apron will get you zipping around the kitchen in style. The heart-shaped pocket is perfect for your tasting teaspoon.

Bite me! Naughty or nice? With a nod to 50s housewife chic, you can decide which, while you’re wearing this sweet but cheeky appliquéd apron.

Fox & Hare apron: £30 from notonthehighstreet.com

Flora apron: £20 messybaker.co.uk

Appliquéd bite me apron: £26 from sewlomax.com

from

s h ow o f f yo u r s k i l l s o r d e t r ac t f ro m yo u r baking disasters with these cool and quirky c a k e s ta n d s

Betsy Battenberg brings a pinch of spice to afternoon tea, while balancing her own offering of all things nice.

This handmade cake stand from Tina Tsang aims to emulate the feeling of euphoria from swimming in chocolate or cream.

Design collective Luna & Curious took inspiration from the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party for the Sanderson Hotel range.

Time for Tea: £65 from dupenny.com

Mid Paradise: £69 from undergrowthdesign.com

Mad Hatter’s Tea Party: £85 from lunaandcurious.com

Rock around the kitchen table! Made from vintage UK 1960s records, this ecofriendly and unusual design will delight music fans.

A dainty golden cake stand from Oliver Bonas to make Marie Antoinette jealous. Just big enough for a little indulgence.

So pretty it would almost be a shame to cover this stand with cakes. Almost. A most elegant addition to a traditional high tea.

Record stand: £28 from notonthehighstreet.com

Miss Etoile Gold Ceramic: £17.50 from oliverbonas.com

£28 from cakestandsby hannahelizabeth.co.uk

Part two: Essays

e x p lo r i n g t h e lo s t v i c t o r i a n fa s h i o n f o r m a r k i n g p e o p l e ’ s pa s s i n g w i t h s p e c i a l ly c o m m i s s i o n e d d u n k e r s

Words: Carla Valentine

ituals of death and baking have cast their sombre echoes through the millennia across countless cultures and religions – from the grisly cannibalistic beginnings of cavemen through to Christian communion and the ‘sin eaters’ of the Middle Ages. While some will forever be consigned to the history books, the forgotten Victorian custom of baking up a batch of ‘funeral biscuits’ is perhaps one macabre tradition that is worth a revival. Long before Jesus of Nazareth reputedly said the words, “Take, Eat: Do this in remembrance of me,” the passing of the flesh from this world into the next was already being memorialised with an edible ceremony or custom. Palaeolithic humans

Illustrations: Penelope Beech

indulged in ritual cannibalism of their dearly departed kinsmen. They were the first humans to attribute some

“there

wa s a

m e ta m o r p h o s i s of all these i n i t i a l ly g r u e s o m e customs into o n e t h a t i n v o lv e d a lot more res traint and grace on t h e s u r fac e : the funeral biscuit”

higher meaning to death, and to ceremonially prepare their dead. Part of these rites involved the consumption

of the corpse to return their essence or spirit to the tribe. Sometimes this was done with only a representative portion of the flesh but often it involved most – or all – of the cadaver. Pieces of the body were apportioned to different members of the family or tribe to consume according to traditional cultural rules, and sometimes even the bones were macerated and devoured with honey. Throughout the Middle Ages (c.1600) in Europe there was a tradition of consuming a corpse-cake, which was a symbolic version of the cannibalism previously described. After the body had been washed and wrapped in clean linen, the woman of the house would prepare some dough and leave it to rise on the chest of

the cadaver during the wake. The dough was believed to ‘absorb’ the positive qualities of the deceased, which would in turn be absorbed by the family once the dough was baked, shared and eaten. But at some point this honourable act then became the tradition of ‘sineating’ during the 17th and 18th centuries in England, Scotland and Wales. In an exact reversal of the corpsecake custom, the food purposely left on, or near, the departed was now said to contain their sins. (Food may be placed directly onto the corpse or into a bowl). In order for the loved one to be able to enter heaven, the job of consuming this ‘sin’ fell not to the family but to a specific person, who was paid a pittance for the privilege: the ‘sin-eater’. This was usually a reviled person from the very lowest echelon of social class; something like the Untouchables of India, or the people who enter the Big Brother house. They would live on the outskirts of the village in total solitude until a time when they were summoned to the coffinside of the latest to depart, and asked to once again carry out their rather unusual vocation. Despite being paid a measly amount of money for being a modern version of the Hebrew ‘scape-goat’, they were sometimes beaten, kicked and spat on as they tried to escape

the gathering, presumably taking the sins and various crumbs with them. In true Victorian style there was a metamorphosis of all these initially gruesome customs into one that involved a lot more restraint and grace on the surface: the funeral biscuit. They were in part also derived from the Dutch tradition of ‘doot coekjes’ or death cookies, “the

biscuits

had motifs s ta m p e d i n to them, sometimes a heart, but also skulls, cherubs and crosses in t h at d r a m at i c , morbid st yle the victorians relished”

which were as large as saucers and were designed to be dipped into hot, spiced wine; they became ‘dead cakes’ over in colonial America. These probably seemed like a far more civilised option than beating the crap out of the local outcast. Recipes differ from country to country. As well as the saucer-sized death cookies

of the Dutch, there were also biscuits that were soft and resembled ‘lady fingers’; ones which were spongy and round; and others that were harder, like shortbread or oatcakes. Commonly they were flavoured with caraway seeds which, in herbology, are reputed to ward off evil and protect from illness and harm. I worked with the food curiosity company Animal Vegetable Mineral during a stint at the very first British Biscuit Festival. They had opted to recreate a funeral biscuit recipe and modified it by adding rosewater to the caraway. Then we made a batch of 200 (similar to what would have been required for a Victorian funeral) and gave them out to an unsuspecting public. Traditionally the biscuits tended to have motifs stamped into them, sometimes in the form of a heart to symbolise love for the departed, but also commonly there were skulls, cherubs and crosses in that dramatic, morbid style the Victorians relished. They would be wrapped in white paper and sealed with a black wax stamp, and this gradually became a whole mourning poem with the details of the funeral and the undertaker’s advertisements. They were handed out to mourners at the funeral to eat there or at home, and also sent to those who were too far

away to attend the funeral, as a sort of death notice with a consolation prize. An example from the Pitt Rivers Museum shows: â&#x20AC;&#x153;A paper wrapper, used to contain biscuits given to a mourner at the funeral of Mrs Oliver, 7 Nov, 1828. Cleveland district, Yorkshire. Biscuits of special make were distributed to mourners, wrapped in paper envelopes sealed with black wax, at a recognised stage in the ceremony, together with wine. The biscuits were round and resembled sponge-cake.â&#x20AC;? Like wedding cakes and hot cross buns, the funeral biscuits became increasingly commercial and popular, but by the First World War they had died out. The custom was replaced by our more familiar tradition of eating food after the funeral, at a gathering with the rest of the mourners. Perhaps we just got greedier and only sausage rolls and bowls of crisps could fill the hole. Or perhaps after a war in which millions lost their lives, people stopped wanting to be reminded of their mortality. Eventually the grand Victorian art of mourning gave way to a more relaxed way of honouring the dead. It is high time we brought back the funeral biscuit. B & C

m o v e a s i d e s a n t a , t h e r e i s o n ly o n e t r u e p a t r o n s a i n t o f b a k i n g a n d it’s saint honoré, the bishop who put the pie in pious

Words: Dr Richard Coyle

ho is the patron saint of the baker? Some give St Nicholas this exalted honour but little is known of the 4th century episcopate, who is better known as the portly festive figure in the red jacket – largely a confection of the Dutch settlers in North America and fizzy drink marketing. Nicholas is venerated in the East as the patron saint of Turkey, children, sailors, pawnbrokers, Greeks and, disputably, bakers. But St Nicholas makes a poor candidate for the latter. St Honoré (or Honoratus) of Amiens is the rightful bearer of the title. There are three reasons for this: fact, legend and history. The fact is easy: St Honoré lends his name to an exquisite cake, made in his honour with a crème chiboust – a mix of

Cake photo: Sophia Al-Irimi

crème pâtissière and Italian meringue – using a St Honoré nozzle for the waves on top. The legend is also satisfyingly light. St Honoré was born in Port Le Grand in northern France at some point in the 6th century. He

“bakers

who ripped

off the popul ace were dropped in a basket 40 feet into a pool of mud”

was noble born but humble and so it came as a surprise to everyone when he was elected Bishop of Amiens, but to noone was the shock greater than his old nursemaid, faithfully baking bread for the family

at home when she heard the news. Her incredulity was such that she declared she would believe the truth of Honoratus’ elevation only if the wooden peel she had been using to bake with was buried, put down roots and grew into a tree. She buried it and a fruit tree duly appeared, providing the pious of northern France with blackberries for a remarkable 1,000 years. As for the history, Parisian bakers embraced St Honoratus for distinctly medieval reasons of piety and punishment. In 1205 a rich Parisian baker named Renold Theriens donated some land to the city to build a chapel in honour of the saint. It became a centre of influence for the powerful guild of bakers. Bakers had a poor reputation in Paris at the time; they were often

patissiers created waves with this eponymous tribute

records of the saintâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s views on the biscuits of the day are scant

accused of short-changing customers, using poor-grade flour and generally ripping off the populace who relied on them for their daily staple. The punishment for bakers who transgressed was unique to their profession: they were dropped in a basket 40 feet into a pool of mud. Many injuries resulted but sympathy was in short supply. The working life of a baker was hard. They were often short of breath from breathing flour, short of time after working 16-hour days, short of stature from stooping

“it

rays were said to shine on all, even bakers. In 1659 Louis ordered that every baker in France should observe the feast of St Honoratus on 16 May. Louis fretted about his increasingly irreligious subjects and it is probable that he wanted to increase the piety of all the trades. Fortunately, for posterity, Louis’ intervention coincided with a revolution in French cooking and patisserie. In 1653 the ground rules of modern French cooking had been laid by Francois Pierre, Sieur de la Varenne in his

Francais, and this laid the foundations of what we now know of as the pastry maker’s art. The main innovation was the use of butter to make pastry delectable. Before the 17th century, dough for a pie or flan was heavy, consisting simply of flour and water. It was mainly used in large quantities to make other ingredients such as meats stick together for cooking. No attention was given to the flavour of the actual pastry. With Francois Pierre and friends this changed; ‘fine’ or ‘fat’ pastry began to develop.

wa s a l l a b o u t u s i n g a b u n d a n t f r e n c h f l av o u r s :

ta r r ag o n , c h e rv i l , pa r s l e y , p l u s t h e s e c r e t w e a p o n o f french cooking: l ashings and l ashings of butter”

and bending all day, and short of friends because everyone needed bakers, but few liked them. What they needed was the protection of a powerful patron saint and in St Honoré they found it. By the 17th century, the need for a protector saint was not so keenly felt by the bakers and St Honoré may well have ended up as one of the more obscure saints if it had not been for the intervention of Louis XIV in 1659. Louis was otherwise known as the ‘Sun King’ because his warm, regal

revolutionary cookbook Le Cuisinier Francais. This tome played a major role in transforming the heavy, rich diet of the medieval period. Previously, French cooking had been heavily influenced by Southern Europe, using rich spices like saffron and nutmeg. Now it was all about abundant French flavours: tarragon, chervil, parsley, plus the secret weapon of French cooking: lashings of butter. A second volume followed, Le Pastissier

In his book, Francois Pierre refers to a new innovation of a ‘gasteau’ made with fine flour, eggs, butter, cream and cheese to create a ‘mollet’ or soft dough. What better way to demonstrate respectful acquiescence to the King’s wishes, and to make a tidy profit, than creating a special cake in the ultra-modern style for the festival of St Honoré? And so the gateau of St Honoré is a fitting tribute for a saint, a king and a time that changed culinary history. B & C

a n a n t i - e s ta b l i s h m e n t n u t r i t i o n i s t a rg u e s w h y t h o s e g u i lt - i n d u c i n g r e d t r a f f i c l i g h t l a b e l s o n yo u r c a k e pac k ag i n g a r e ba s e d o n a w e i g h t o f b loat e d , m i s g u i d e d s c i e n c e

Words: Chris Sandell

ood has always been about more than nutrition. It provides sustenance, yes, and good food gives us pleasure. But does any other physical pleasure make us feel as guilty at the same time? Our relationship is complex – and has only got more so since the advent of traffic light grading for foods. While the scheme was introduced by government with a benign goal – to combat the costly health problems associated with rising obesity levels – the traffic light nutrition system actually reinforces our guilty relationship with food. For decades, waistlines have been ballooning. According to the Department of Health, most people

in England are obese or overweight (61.3% of adults and 30% of children) and the health problems associated with this extra weight apparently costs the NHS £5 billion a year. “if

fat i s l i k e a

delinquent household, s at u r at e d fat i s t h e n o - h o p e 16 - y e a r - o l d child with an asbo”

To combat the tide of growing girths, the government has created a set of schemes to encourage people to eat healthier food, eat fewer calories and do more exercise. Improved food

labelling is seen as part of the solution – hence the so-called traffic lights now seen on packaged foods. The government has identified four villains: fat, saturated fat, salt and sugar. Products feature an easyto-understand standardised graphic that shows whether the product is low, medium or high (green, amber and red) in these food components. For now, the system is voluntary. But the major supermarkets have all signed up, as have big producers. But has the government got it right? Is this system going to do what it’s intended to do, to reduce weight and improve health? Or is it merely lip service, an appearance of doing something but

making no difference? Worse yet, could it actually cause more harm than good? The first component of the traffic light system is fat – probably public enemy number one in the obesity battle. The American Heart Association first fully endorsed a low-fat diet in 1961. But the anti-fat crusade really came into vogue in the 1980s. Ever since then, fat has been facing an uphill battle. If fat is bad, saturated fat is worse. If fat is like a delinquent household, saturated fat is the no-hope 16-year-old with an Asbo; he’s the one to really fear. Polyunsaturated fat, its little sister, is like the one shining light in the family. She gets the perfect grades despite the tough home life, and will be the first of the family to make it to college. But is fat, and in particular saturated fat, really the devil incarnate? Is polyunsaturated fat, the one we are now advised to eat, really better for us? In 1948, the largest longterm study on cardiovascular health started in Framingham, Massachusetts, known as the Framingham Heart Study. This continues today and has had over 1,000 medical papers published from its 60plus years of data. In 1992, Dr William Castelli, a former director of the study, stated: “In Framingham, Mass., the more saturated fat one ate, the

more cholesterol one ate, the more calories one ate, the lower the person’s serum cholesterol [bad]. [These people also] weighed the least and were the most physically active.” To add to this, let’s also look at eating patterns for the last 100 years in the epicentre of obesity: the States. According to the US Department of Agriculture, since 1909, America’s intake of saturated fats has actually decreased. Whole milk consumption is down 49.8%, “ r at h e r

than

p r e v e n t i n g u n h e a lt h y e at i n g , t h e g o o d versus bad f e e l i n g t h at the traffic light s ys t e m c r e at e s a c t u a l ly c a u s e s i t ”

butter dropped 72.2% and lard has dropped 50%. But intake of polyunsaturated fats has increased during this time. And not just increased, but skyrocketed. Americans are now eating 300% more polyunsaturated fats than they did at the beginning of the 1900s. Margarine consumption is up 800%, shortening increased by 275% and salad and cooking oil is up 1,450%. If polyunsaturated fats

are so healthy why is heart disease now the number one killer, whereas only 100 years ago it was barely heard of? How can something that we have been eating for millions of years as our predominant source of fat now be the thing that is causing heart attacks only in the last century? There are a whole host of reasons for this increase in heart disease (from our increased intake of processed food to more sedentary lifestyles), but saturated fat intake is not one of them. Salt, like fat, has got a bad reputation for ruining health. Everyone ‘knows’ that salt causes high blood pressure and cardiovascular disease and if you cared about your health you’d adopt a low-salt diet. Unfortunately, the issue is not so open and shut and while a high-salt diet can cause high blood pressure, inadequate salt intake can cause the same. Sodium is crucial to health and when levels drop, the body turns on a cascade of hormones to help the kidneys hold it. In this instance, these hormones create the higher blood pressure, not the salt. To turn off this system, salt intake needs to be increased, otherwise blood pressure will stay high no matter how low the sodium in the diet is. Blanket advice that tells everyone to keep their salt intake low is dangerous. It leads to more people taking medications with long lists of

side effects when the solution could be as simple as adding more salt to their food. The final villain is sugar. This is perhaps the most confusing signpost. The government wanted to differentiate between ‘naturally occurring sugars’ and ‘added sugar’ but chose to use the same solitary traffic light for both. This meant that an apple, for instance, would be given an amber rating. These issues have helped foster some misleadingly negative perceptions about much of the food we eat. A number of studies have looked at how our relationship with food affects eating behaviour. One, at Northwestern University, involved 57 female college students. The participants were first asked to complete a survey to measure their eating behaviour. The survey sought to ascertain two components: firstly, restrictive eating – the desire and effort to avoid eating unhealthy food; secondly, eating guilt – the tendency to feel guilty after eating unhealthily. The women were then divided into three groups based on the number of 250ml milkshakes they were given (none, one and two milkshakes). After drinking the shakes, the subjects were asked to taste and rate three flavours of ice cream. They were allowed to eat as much ice cream as they

wanted and taste tested in private. Generous amount of ice cream were provided so that no matter how much they ate there was always more available. Those with low eating guilt and restrictive eating behaviour performed as you would expect: they ate less ice cream in proportion to the amount of milkshakes consumed. Those with high guilt and restrictive behaviour, however, displayed the “ r at h e r

than

p r e v e n t i n g u n h e a lt h y e at i n g , t h e g o o d versus bad f e e l i n g t h at the traffic light s ys t e m c r e at e s a c t u a l ly c a u s e s i t ”

opposite response: those who drank two milkshakes ate the most ice cream, known as a ‘counter-regulation’ effect. The researchers concluded that by forcing these subjects to overeat or ‘blow their diet’, they released their food inhibitions and ate even more. Black and white thinking around food is one of the causes for this boom-andbust-style eating. Rather than preventing unhealthy eating, the good versus bad feeling

that the traffic light system creates actually causes it. You eat a piece of cake, see the red traffic light on the box and decide that you have blown your diet. Instead of making you stop, as is the intention, it counterintuitively encourages you to eat more. The response to worsening health and an increasing waistline is lower self-esteem and more guilt; so you dig your heels in and become stricter, which invariably leads to more of the same. If the government really wanted to improve health, getting people to cook from scratch with real ingredients would achieve more than any traffic light system, even if people have no idea of the fat, salt and sugar content in their meal. The same advice applies to cake. If you are concerned about what is in it, make one yourself. Use natural and minimally processed forms of sugar like honey, maple syrup, black strap molasses or coconut sugar; use wholegrain flour and alternatives to wheat; mill the grains yourself at home, even, for maximum freshness; and add vegetables like beetroot, courgette, swede or parsnip to increase the nutrient content and impart a lovely flavour. But most importantly, however you have your cake, savour it and enjoy it. B & C

from nigell a to

‘splosh’

and

‘wet

a n d m e s s y ’ dat i n g w e b s i t e s , f o o d

f e t i s h i s i n g i s t h e s t i c k y u n d e r s i d e o f ba k i n g . w i l l s o m e bo dy t h i n k o f t h e c h i l d r e n ? u n f o r t u n a t e ly , t h e y a l r e a d y h av e . . .

Words: Charlie Wright

ake porn is out there. It is happening right now in respectable suburban kitchens, beneath crumb-strewn duvets and, perhaps, in the shady backroom of a boulanger near you. There exists a thriving subculture of people who take their cake-loving literally – pavlova-Casanovas for whom the lubricants of lust are custard and cream. The boundaries between sex and baking have never been thinner. These days London’s Soho wafts its whore’s perfume of £4 cupcakes; sex shops are outnumbered by erotic cake emporia; and beneath shifty gents’ raincoats rustle brown paper bags sheathing

Photo: Sue Lyn Ting

grainy Great British Bake Off bootlegs. Meanwhile, the alleged bed-hopping sexploits of baking’s first superstar Paul Hollywood whip the redtops into a soft peak. Cake fetishism might have reached its soft-core apogee with the everyday ‘food porn’ of BBC2, Channel 4 and the digibox 190-somethings, where silver-spoon sexpots breathlessly dip digits in tubs of forbidden goop... and suck. But for several years the nowdefunct magazine Splosh! catered for true cake fetishists: fans of WAM, the ‘wet and messy fetish’. Typically this involved drenching female ‘models’, often fully dressed, in

food – mostly sweet stuff, although baked beans were an acceptable conduit for those with a wheat intolerance. With its sticky pages lost to the nation’s suburban attics, Splosh! the brand endures via the internet, offering shots of endearingly homely models called Mucky Bunny Girl or Kustardy Kate sousing themselves in viscous goodies. The website has a gently parochial feel and might even elicit a misty-eyed grading from Mary Berry. It is difficult, frankly, to imagine people deriving a thrill from the pictures beyond Robin Askwith, Confessions-of-anArtisan-Baker phwoaring. Food porn – both

you can take your love of sweets too far

sploshing and the Nigella kind – does not seem to turn people off either food or sex, as regular porn is accused of doing. Hook-up sites such as WAM Lover and Splosh Dating have freed food fetish enthusiasts from lonely hours haunting supermarket baking aisles hunting for telltale palm prints on cans of whipped cream, in the hope of sniffing out a sticky-fingered fumble. The latter site’s claim that sploshing is “playful fun... suitable for all ages”, though, is dubious at best. You certainly wouldn’t leave the kids alone “the ‘ p l ay f u l

Switching the web browser’s ‘parental lock’ back on, an emerging ‘grey area’ of cake-mess fetishisation – that is perhaps shaping a future generation of sploshers – is the fast-growing smash-cake phenomenon. On his or her birthday, a toddler is gifted an extravagant, immaculate cake... then encouraged to lay waste to the dessert as messily as possible for the (non-sexual) amusement of watching adults. The mayhem is filmed and, inevitably, posted online. If some cake gets eaten in the process, all the better.

c l a i m t h at s p lo s h i n g i s f u n . . . s u i ta b l e f o r a l l ag e s ’

is dubious

–

y o u c e r t a i n ly w o u l d n ’ t

l e av e t h e k i d s a l o n e w i t h a s u p e r - c a l o r i f i c m a ry p o p p i n s s lo p p e d i n c h o c o l at e ”

with the nude model slopped in chocolate on its homepage – a super-calorific Mary Poppins. You cannot dispute the breezy, neighbourly tone of the comments on the sploshers’ forums. While the thrust is gently sexual, they make it sound more like a hobby. It is easy to imagine the distaste of sploshing regulars who stumble – accidentally or otherwise – upon the food-based insertions of ‘boner-fide’ porn sites. Dark places, where cake and custard are insufficiently robust for the job in hand.

Harnessing infants’ irrepressible destructive instincts may be no more exploitative than geothermal power is unfair on rocks. But having spent too much time browsing stiletto-wearing cream slice crushers, the kiddie clips, though amusing, leave one craving the morally clear-cut environs of adults sporting pants of meringue, dousing their heads with brûlée. After all, the sploshers reveal only the modern impulse to both eat our cake and have it. B & C

Part three: Features

Eric Lanlard plays Marcel Proust to n i g h t , m at t h e w , i ' m g o i n g to i n d u lg e m y p ro u s t i a n fa n c i e s

Words: Andrew James Williams

Images: Sophia Al-Irimi

ccording to the 2011 national Census, instalment of the seven-part literary box84% of people who ticked ‘literary set solipsist-fest, Eric Lanlard steps into the prig’ as their main occupation claimed slippers of his sickbed-bound countryman, to have bandied the phrase ‘Proustian’ in who penned much of the book from a corklined room. We caught the past week; precisely up with him not in a 0.03% of those admitted to sanatorium, but indulging trudging through Marcel “ i wa s c o c k y a n d a mid-morning snack at the Proust’s languorous ‘In confident; i said to Jumeirah Carlton Tower Search of Lost Time’ – the t h e pat i s s e r i e ow n e r s , hotel, for which he designs seven-volume non-thriller afternoon teas. in which a man dunks ‘ i wa n t t o d o m y The indefatigably some cake in his tea and a p p r e n t i c e s h i p h e r e ’. cheerful Eric might not be a remembers his childhood. shoo-in to play the miseryEven Harold Pinter they said, ‘we don’t prone Marcel in our cakethought the 3,400 pagedo child l abour’” festooned scene overleaf. opus could do with an The 45-year-old honorary executive summary, which Brit has been over here since he obliged by slimming down the bloated, semi-autobiographical account of a he was 22 but, like Proust, he is French, boasts high-society mummy’s boy’s bad table manners of a transformative childhood memory of cake and, crucially, owns a dapper set of pyjamas into a digestible 167-page screenplay. Now, one hundred years after the first with a high thread count.

there are better things than tea for dunking madeleines

my c hildhood memory of c ake by e r i c l a n l a r d a k a c a k e b oy

always wanted to do patisserie, since I was a kid. My parents said that when I was five, I wanted to be a pastry chef. I’m not sure exactly why. It wasn’t because my parents baked. I think it was going to the patisseries that really attracted me. Like French people do, every Sunday we would make a trip and my hand was always up, ‘I’ll go with you!’ It was almost like a religious thing. In fact, people would come out of church and go straight to the patisseries to buy cakes. It was so glamorous. That’s what attracted me – the decorations, the service, the beauty of the shops. In France, even in front of house, people will do an apprenticeship in selling cakes and making the packaging lovely with ribbons. When I tell people that in the UK, they laugh! My first memory of eating cake, and what transports me back to childhood, is éclairs and choux pastry. I started baking secretly when I was six; my mum went away for a few days so I decided I was going to make some cakes for when she came back. What did I start with? Choux pastry. I’ve always been ambitious! It was a complete disaster, obviously. Anyone who’s tried to make choux will know it’s not that easy. And, of course, we didn’t have the right ingredients or piping bags. I can still see them: they looked like collapsed sausages. Actually, more like pancakes. My sister helped me make the crème patissier to go inside. It was all runny. It looked like a car crash. So I cheated. I thought maybe a choux is a bit much to start with. The baking aisle in French supermarkets is massive, a bit like it’s becoming in Britain. So I bought some empty éclair shells and started practicing with crème patissier. By the age of 10, I could do éclairs and I’d made a croquembouche (a profiterole tower typically served at weddings). My dad was a civil engineer. He got me a traffic

cone. I built it in that. In my family, we would all have our favourite. My dad’s was a rum baba. I’d have a choux a la crème, which is a choux filled with whipped cream and dusted with icing sugar. My mum’s was a noix japonaise – a choux pastry with walnut buttercream inside, dipped completely in chocolate with a walnut on top. A French classic. But my mum is an Anglophile – to the point of madness. She would pay £15 to buy a jar of Wilkin & Sons marmalade from an expat shop in Brittany. The other thing she would do is put us on an overnight ferry to Plymouth, just to jump on a bus to go for afternoon tea in the middle of a country village. Once, we were sitting in this place having tea and there was a man watching TV in the corner – we realised we were in these people’s living room! So I grew up with

p i s tac h i o , ro s e , lemon and raspberry madeleines

Makes 20 Ingredients: 90g unsalted butter 2 tbsp melted unsalted butter for greasing 90g plain flour, plus extra for dusting 2 tsp clear honey 40g icing sugar, plus extra for dusting 1 tsp baking powder 2 beaten eggs 1 tsp orange blossom water

British afternoon tea and I’m a fan of it. When I was 10, I dragged my mum into a patisserie in Quimper, Brittany. It made its own chocolates and I was always fascinated by that. It was a patisserie we only went to on special occasions, like Christmas or birthdays that end in a zero. She said, “Trust you to pick the most expensive one!” I was a bit cocky and confident; I said to the owners, ‘I want to do my apprenticeship here’. They said, “We don’t do child labour yet”. I had it all sussed out. I said, “I’m going to leave school at 14 and come and do it”. I didn’t give a damn about school, I was too busy designing cakes and thinking, “What can I bake next?” I had to wait until I was 18 to start my apprenticeship. Not long after, I went on to become number one in Brittany in competitions, then number two in France. Who won? A Parisian, as always! B & C

1. Preheat the oven to 180°C (fan 160°C). Prepare a 20-hole madeleine mould by brushing with the 2 tbsp melted butter (the old-fashioned metal tins give a better result than silicone ones when making madeleines). Really get in there and make sure you cover all the ridges. Dust with flour and invert the pan, tapping out excess flour (A). 2. Melt the measured butter and the honey together in a small saucepan and leave to cool. Sieve the flour, icing sugar and baking powder together into a large bowl. Stir in the cooled butter and honey mixture, then the eggs, taking care not to over-mix. Fold in the orange blossom water (B). 3. Spoon the batter into the moulds, filling each mould two-thirds to three-quarters full. Bake the madeleines in the preheated oven for about 10 minutes, or until risen and golden. Leave to cool for several minutes before turning out onto a wire rack; allow to cool completely and ideally eat them within a few hours (C).

f l av o u r s a n d d e c o r a t i o n

Pistachios Replace 25g of the sugar with 25g of pistachio paste in the original recipe. When cold, dip half the madeleines into melted white chocolate and sprinkle with ground pistachios before it sets.

Rose Replace the 1 tsp of orange blossom extract with rose extract. When cold, dip the madeleines into melted white chocolate thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s slightly coloured with pink and sprinkle with edible Persian rosebud petals.

Lemon Replace the 1 tsp of orange blossom extract with lemon extract (Eric uses Nielsen Massey for extracts and pastes), and add the finely grated zest of a lemon to the original recipe. When cold, dip the madeleines into melted white chocolate and sprinkle with chopped candied lemon peel.

Raspberry and chocolate Replace the 1 tsp of orange blossom with vanilla paste from the original recipe. When cold, dip the madeleines into melted dark chocolate and sprinkle with freeze-dried raspberry pieces.

i n s p i r e d by a rt p rovo c at e u r b i l l d ru m m o n d o f t h e k l f , b&c conducte d a

‘cake

c i r c l e ’, k n o c k i n g o n r a n d o m d o o r s i n

b r i ta i n ’ s m o s t n e g l e c t e d tow n w i t h a n o f f e r i n g o f f r e e c a k e . but how would people react to a freebie from a s tran ger?

Words: Keith Cooper

Images: Andrew James Williams & Philip Jones

’ve knocked on numerous strangers’ doors Williams. So we precariously taped three large in my days and for many a reason. From layer cakes to our bikes and set off to discover ‘turn the music down’ pleas to asks for what they really thought of their hood. Arriving at the nearest train station, missing condiments. But I’ve never knocked a door to offer free slices of cake to people I’d Clacton-on-Sea, we cycled off down the promenade, past the neon-lit pier, chain pubs, never met. Not until now that is. This is the tale of a journey from a chip stands and primary-coloured beach huts to kitchen in north London to Jaywick Sands, the the stunning sandwich of sea and countryside, neglected seaside end of Essex, reputed to be a wide-open coastline of wild grass scrub, sand and blue water. the most deprived town in Britain. We soon recognise when we’re out of the The point and purpose? To answer a call to create a ‘cake circle’ by art provocateur Bill respectability zone, where the tourist attractions peter out. We continue on our Drummond, best known as a bikes, the paved promenade founding member of eighties reducing to a crumbled pop group The KLF – and concrete road strewn with for torching a million quid. “ w e p r e c a r i o u s ly t a p e d stones, pockmarked with ‘Draw a circle on a map’, his t h r e e l a r g e l ay e r potholes. online instructions begin. With a delicate triple‘Bake a cake, travel to a c akes to our bikes deck payload of cake tins, home on the circumference, and set off to it is a task and a half to knock on the door and say, dodge the mobility scooter d i s c ov e r w h at t h e y “I have baked you a cake”.’ stream, zooming and zigIt sounded so simple. Yet we r e a l ly t h o u g h t o f t h e i r zagging this straggly path. broke most, if not all, of the h o o d . a r r i v i n g at t h e Time is against us too. rules. Not that Bill seemed to The beating sun threatens mind (see The Psychology n e a r e s t t r a i n s tat i o n , to melt the pristine icing of Circles, p47). cl acton-on-sea, on our prize offering: a No real circles were yo u s o o n r e co g n i s e cake of a rabbit perched involved in this experiment. on liquorice and cream No lines on maps, no w h e n yo u ’ r e o u t o f cheese grass, custom-made protractor. Jaywick Sands t h e r e s p e c ta b i l i t y z o n e ” by Ellabelle’s Kitchen is not in my neighbourhood. blogger Ellie Cowan. The It’s 72 miles down the A12 two homemade carrot from where the cakes began cakes have also looked their travels. But with this being art, I thought, bending rules was a better, despite being only five hours old. Their thick slick of filling is oozing, cascading the permissible part of the game. My ‘circle’ would consist simply of sponge like sugary meltwater sludge. Jaywick Sands veers into view, a jumble ‘neighbours’ I fancied meeting in the town variously dubbed “Misery-by-Sea”, “Beirut” of cottages, some proud and spruce, others and a “dumping ground” for the drug-addled ramshackle, boarded up or burned out. A village – by journalists, researchers and politicians of holiday homes, once the destination of choice who clearly hadn’t bothered to knock on for Londoners, now looks all but abandoned. Lame official efforts to intervene are evident all anybody’s front door. The people of Jaywick could do with over. Steel grills, flimsy and fallen, landmark the some cake, I agreed with B&C editor Andrew half-arsed attempts to protect residents

the scene of the cake circle

a foreboding sign barriers the beach

william moved to jaywick to escape london

from the most dangerous dereliction. At one point, a rock-solid sea wall, which borders its outskirts, is inexplicably stencilled with a stark warning in white paint: ‘Danger Keep Off’. The same messages are daubed all across Jaywick. It’s as if state intervention has given way to resigned, helpless warnings. This seems like a good place to deliver our cakes. Directing our bikes towards the next broken road, we head down Hillman Avenue. The street is deserted and our first few knocks prove fruitless. Perhaps no one’s at home. But then we spot a potential ‘neighbour’, a heavily tattooed, wizened man, moving purposively up the street. “Excuse me, this is going to sound a bit strange, but would you like some cake?” I ask. “Hang on a minute,” he says. “I’ve just got to lock up my mum’s house and I’ll be with you.

“ a n dy

your cake?” he asks, nodding. “No, it’s private,” comes the reply from our new neighbour. A private cake? That’s a new one. Does that make some cakes public? After Andy’s chum regales us with a tale of once having downed 187 pints in a weekend, through serious, sunken eyes that suggest it might actually be true, it’s time to move on. My first cake-giving experiment having left me slightly perturbed. Next, we tap on the door of Sharron O’Donovan, also 52, who moved here from Watford, Hertfordshire, with her husband four years ago. She has no hesitation in accepting a slice of our second carrot cake. “Do you want to come out here and try a piece of this cake? It’s absolutely wonderful,” she calls to her husband through an open window. Sharron is a fan of all cakes, but not a great baker, she admits. “I tried

bloom field is 52 and re tired down he re from tott enham .

h e ’ s va g u e a b o u t w h a t h e r e t i r e d f r o m . h e r e t i r e d a t 3 0 . he refuses to be photographed. we don’t push it”

I live about four doors up.” We’re in. Andy Bloomfield is 52 and retired down here from Tottenham, north London. He’s vague about what he retired from. He retired at 30. He refuses to be photographed. We don’t push it. A man of few words, he’s happy to chat in exchange for one of the two carrot cakes. “Getting this cake makes me feel like I’ve just got married and it’s my anniversary. It feels like it’s my birthday,” he says. “The last time I had a cake it was 10 years ago and it was by my ex-wife. It was my birthday. I’m not married now.” “So who will get to share a slice of your cake?” I ask, idly digging for personal details. “I won’t eat the whole cake, just me, my mum and my brother,” he says, as a friend approaches, clearly curious about our arrival. “Can I have a piece of

to bake a cake with my daughter. It turned out like a pancake.” As the conversation flows, I ask what brought her down here. Don’t some call this the ‘rough end of Britain’? “We knew the area we were going into was really deprived, that there was a lot of unemployment and everything else,” she says. “But it’s better the devil you know. We used to come down here when we were children. So far it has been absolutely brilliant. It is a shame that the government has forgotten about us.” Despite its reputation, Sharron describes Jaywick as full of community spirit. “All the neighbours are wonderful; we all know each other,” she says. She’s not lying. Minutes later, another neighbour drops by: Jeanette Onstad, 47, who has lived on Hillman Avenue

“i

l o v e i t h e r e . i f e e l s a f e . p e o p l e s ay

t h a t i f y o u wa n t t o l i v e b y t h e s e a ,

‘go

t o b r i g h t o n o r wa l e s ’. i s ay j ay w i c k . i am not ashamed of where i live”

tom and perry poke their heads up for carrot cake

for just two months. We discover her daughter runs a cupcake business in Connecticut, in the US, where Jeanette lived for 25 years, lending her accent a dislocating twang. She is already a Jaywick fan. “I love it here. I feel safe. People say that if you want to live by the sea, ‘go to Brighton or Wales’. I say Jaywick. Some people call it West Clacton but I am not ashamed of where I live. People are so friendly.” Soon, Tom Felice, a student, and Perry Vickers, a factory worker, both 19, come out of their home across the road, seeking cake. “This is unheard of,” says Tom through a mouthful of crumbs. “You don’t get nothing for free nowadays, do you?” So here we are, five of Jaywick’s residents plus Andrew and I, standing around munching cake in an area described by officials as the most deprived in the country. They love it. And so do we. I am beginning to feel cake circles would make a great sociological experiment. It is clear that casual conversation over cakes can tell a different story to official figures – or a more nuanced one, at any rate. With two carrot cakes down, we are still left with our final but fast-wilting masterpiece. The star ‘bunny’ cake, whose cream cheese icing is not weathering the conditions too well. On the recommendation of our fellow cake circlers, we head three or four doors down to offer it up to two newcomers on the street. “A lovely couple,” Sharron says. We are met at the door by Walter Wright, 70. He greets us how I had expected to be met at the start of the experiment: with suspicion. But it’s easy to tell he is having a laugh. “I am quite good at turning away things I don’t want,” he says with a smile. “But all my talk about being suspicious is me being facetious.” He and his wife Valerie, 58, are more than happy to partake of cake. They even accept the bunny spectacular for a birthday party at the weekend. “That is going to be perfect for the occasion,” says Valerie. “It is going to be a talking point.” Walter is a fan of baked

jenny, jeanette and sharron

(left

“ wa l t e r

to right) carving up

i s wo r r i e d h e ’ s a b o u t to s o u n d r ac i s t , a c o n c e r n t h at

pric ks up the hairs on the bac k of my nec k. here we go, t h e d a m p e n e r o n t h o s e wa r m , s u g a r y f e e l i n g s ”

cake circles were bill drummond’s response to a stalker leaving a cake on his doorstep

stuff, a love absorbed from his Belgian mum. “She was a great baker, she made a great cake. She got it from her mother, it was a traditional thing. She used to bake bread at home a lot.” He and his wife are also loving Jaywick. Valerie compares its community feel with those of the “olden days”. “Although Jaywick has got its problems, you feel protected from that because of the community spirit. I don’t like talking about the olden days but there is still the dregs of that spirit down here,” she says. Over cake, the couple offload their reasons for shifting to Jaywick from east London, where they lived most of their married lives. Walter is worried he’s about to sound racist, a concern that pricks up the hairs on the back of my neck. Here we go, the dampener on those warm, sugary feelings. But he doesn’t. Instead he tells a story of their struggle to adapt to the rapidly changing east London population. It didn’t feel like racism to me. “We feel pushed out of London because of the shift in population. Before, the bus used to be empty during the day but now the competition is fierce. It is mainly Asian people and there are a lot of Eastern Europeans. I feel ‘alienised’. I don’t feel any resentment but do feel that you can’t relate because of the culture. Things have changed. At our age it makes it all the more difficult.” I can’t help feel that this kind of insight would be less likely without the conversational lubrication of cake. Before we head off, Walter makes a point of thanking us for stopping by. “And not just for the cake,” he says, waving his hand, “but for the chat”. That parting shot got me thinking: we’d never have got so close to this community without our cake circle. And never would we have seen such a different side to the town from the one we read about in the papers. As Bill Drummond himself told me later: “The creativity of cake circles is not about the cake, it’s about the people.” So why not try a cake circle? Read the rules, bend them a little and go on ahead. Knock on a stranger’s door. You never know who you might meet. B & C

The psychology of cake circles

ill Drummond happened upon the cake circle concept through rather traumatic means: a stalker left a cake on his doorstep, he tells me. This unwanted offering began a strange dynamic. Cakes evoked associations with his mother (she didn’t make him enough, which prompted him to bake his own), but this one felt threatening. Such strangeness had to be explored, normalised even. On his website penkilnburn.com, Bill provides a set of cake circle guidelines, which shed light on where the stalker went wrong. “Draw a circle on a map. Travel to a home on the circumference,” he says. Cakes should not be left but given: “Knock on the door. If the door is answered, say, ‘I have baked you a cake, here it is’. They may think you are bad or mad. You are neither. Give them the cake. Go back home. It is a friendly thing to do.” The creativity of cake circle, for Drummond, is not about the sophistication of the confection. It is about the people. His preferred produce is an unfussy Victoria sponge. Baking is less macho than chefery, Drummond says, but no less sexual. And there is no meat involved, he points out wryly. From small beginnings, Drummond is to embark on his biggest cake circle yet in 2014 – 40 circles in and around Birmingham – before setting off on a global tour. Who knows where it will take him? These reflections are from a conversation with Bill Drummond over a pint in a pub. He kindly declined to be quoted at length, having already been interviewed twice in 2013 – his self-imposed limit for the year.

p a i r i n g c h e e s e w i t h c a k e wa s e i t h e r g o i n g t o b e a n e x e r c i s e i n s wa l l o w i n g a g a g r e f l e x o r a n e p i c u r e ’ s e p i p h a n y , s o w e e n l i s t e d t o p c h e e s e e m p o r i u m pa x t o n & w h i t f i e l d a n d gail’s artisan bakery to find out

Photos: Sophia Al-Irimi

Words: Patrick McGuigan

avid Bowie and Mick Jagger prancing boundaries of human knowledge to new limits, around a warehouse in the 1980s as they Beaten & Creamed decided to visit a bakery and desecrated the memory of Motown eat lots of cake and cheese to see what worked and classic Dancing in the Street was a perfect example what had us humming bad ‘80s cover versions. Top cheesemonger Paxton & Whitfield emptied of how two rights can make a big fat wrong. The Bowie-Jagger axis of wrongness (good its cellar of fromage into Gail’s Artisan Bakery, which provided the cake name for a band) could (with additional loaf cakes equally apply to food. from Marks & Spencer and Peaches and anchovies Waitrose). should never mix – I speak “we’d almost given up After sampling some 30from drunken experience – o n f i n d i n g a c a k e t h at odd combinations, the results despite being glorious on their were conclusive: cheese and own. Likewise prawns and c o u l d m atc h t h e m i g h t cake is a corking combination. chocolate. of roquefort – some There were very few bad But what about cheese pairings, lots of extremely and cake? They are certainly c o m b i n at i o n s w e r e decent ones and a handful of two of the greatest foods prett y disgusting” matches that were far greater known to mankind and there than the sum of their parts. is actually precedence for Cakes with dried fruit putting the two together. and spice (fruitcake, Eccles, Lancashire cheese and Eccles cake is a classic combo that has become a signature plum bread) were perfect partners for pretty dish on the menu at St John in London, while much any type of cheese, acting like a substitute Christmas cake and a wodge of Stilton has always for chutney. We also learned it is important not to skimp on the fromage. A 50/50 cheese-to-cake been a festive favourite in my household. In the spirit of adventure and pushing the ratio is about right.

1st WINNER

Tymsboro aged goat’s cheese and Gail’s chocolate brownie Yes, you read that right. Goat’s cheese and chocolate brownie was the clear cake and cheese champion. In the sweet corner, with a steely glint in its eye, was an insanely rich, salted brownie made with three types of chocolate at 53%, 70% and 100% cocoa content. In the curd corner, wearing the white trunks, was a six-to-seven-week aged pyramid of Tymsboro, with almond notes and a proper goaty tang. You might think they would beat seven bells out of each other, but the flavours were perfectly attuned. Rich, silky and intense, it was a sexy Argentine tango rather than a punch-up.

3rd Roquefort and Paxton’s fruit cake We had almost given up on finding a cake that could match the might of Roquefort. Some combinations were disgusting, and then we broke out the fruit cake. The sweet candied fruit contrasted beautifully with the salty sharpness of the cheese. Potent.

2nd St Wulfstan & Gail’s apple crumble cake One is a yoghurty organic cow’s milk cheese. The other is a moist, spicy apple cake that crumbles at the slightest touch. Squish them together and you have something that transcends the crude and simplistic categories of ‘cake’ and ‘cheese’. It should have its own name, like ‘chake’ or ‘cheeke’. An almost spiritual experience.

4th Pecorino & Gail’s lemon drizzle cake The Pecorino was quite austere with a hard, almost crunchy texture and salty tang, which was brilliant at cutting through the cake’s sweetness. It also matched up to the intense Époisses and Botham’s plum bread citrus flavour.

5th

Plum bread is a speciality of Lincolnshire and is traditionally eaten with a slice of Lincolnshire Poacher. Fair enough, but we felt the plum bread acted as a good neutral base for the spicy, meaty flavours of Époisses.

a l c o h o l i c c u p c a k e s a r e h u g e ly p o p u l a r b u t c a n t h e y t i p yo u ov e r t h e l i m i t ?

Words: Chris Mercer

Cupcakes portait: Rebecca Fennell

ocktail cakes slick with hard liquor venues across the UK capital. are oozing subversion all over the “I’ve been going for just over a year nation’s baking scene, but how drunk and I’m doing a lot of cakes for burlesque can you really get on them? And is there a risk and cabaret,” says Amanda. “They’re quite of getting collared by the fuzz on your drive naughty people, so they wouldn’t want home? Beaten & Creamed persuaded some anything without booze in it.” Bourbonnervous associates to make a selfless sacrifice by soaked cakes have proven a particular hit, attempting to get drunk on alcoholic cupcakes. especially at burlesque night Gypsy Hotel in Using alcohol in London, she adds. baking is nothing new, but But how does injecting pure spirits into consuming alcohol in “we herded a group finished batches of cakes is this way alter our senses, a little more extreme, and compared to just having of bemused volunteers definitely more rock ‘n’ roll a drink? Could you, for and bought the best than your average tiramisu. example, drive home d i g i t a l b r e a t h o m e t e r One imagines bakers legally after binging on of this ilk lurking under booze cakes? ava i l a b l e a t h a l f o r d s railway bridges, furtively To find out, we f or under £25” emerging from a kind of herded a group of bemused Dickensian London gloom volunteers and bought the to offer passers-by a spongy best digital breathometer hit from their glinting available at Halfords for syringes. “Fancy a little tickle with that, sir?” under £25, plus a few blow-in-the-bag tester But it’s not like that for Amanda Whelan. kits. In keeping with a vague attachment to At least, not as far as we know. Instead, the scientific process, everyone was ordered Amanda, aka Cake Follies, is serving up her to abstain from both eating and alcohol for a boozy sweet treats at a growing number of few hours beforehand.

halfords breathalysers provided sound scientific rigour

alcoholic cupcakes by cake follies

image: rebecca fennell

One carrier bag of spirits, 43 cakes and nine doorbell rings later, the scene was set. Cakes were split into two ‘flavours’. The first each contained two tablespoons of 12-yearold, blended Scotch whisky in the sponge, soaked in post-bake to preserve the alcohol, with orange-infused vodka stirred generously into chocolate buttercream. A sort of filthy Jaffa Cake, if you will. Those in the second batch were each doused in two tablespoons of coconutinfused vodka with 100% agave Tequila adding some zip to Cake Follies’ signature lemon buttercream. Despite our best efforts, however, the initial vision of the afternoon failed to materialise. Few people, if any, disappeared into an hallucinogenic fog and no one emerged from that den of baking debauchery clad in somebody else’s trousers. In reality, merely eating five buttercream cakes inside 30 minutes proved a tricky business. Some of our number fell along the road, unable to cram in another cupcake. More importantly, while one or two claimed to be feeling a little tipsy, the rest felt as sober as a priest in a penitentiary. Suspicion also fell on the breathalyser, which appeared disconbobulated by the sheer number of readings being asked of it, and subsequently offered figures that fluctuated wildly in a dubiously short space of time. At the end, blow tests concluded that no one would lose their wheels in a real-life scenario. It was decided that myself and B&C’s editor Andrew Williams should go in harder at a behind-closed-doors second session. Fast-forward to Cake Follies HQ in Hanwell, West London. No messing around this time, we thought, as each cupcake sponge squelched with a 25ml shot measure of Bourbon delivered straight from the tip of a needle – again topped with laced buttercream. After gorging on three cakes in succession, we waited the recommended 20 minutes for alcohol fumes on our breath to dissipate and Bourbon to seep into our bloodstream.

“eac h

cupcake sponge

sque lc he d wit h a 25ml sh ot of bourbon delivered from the tip of a needle”

This time the breathalyser was more consistent, sneaking Williams over the 0.8mg/ml UK drink-drive limit by a whisker. But a fourth cake later, followed by a halfhour gap, saw him drop to 0.6mg/ml, which is still enough for a night in the cells in France. My top reading was 0.3mg/ml, and this sank to zero within 30 minutes. Some form of instinct prodded me to celebrate this showing of physical strength. But we also suspected that either our home-use breathalyser was a bit naff or there were many external factors at work. It was probably both. What we concluded was that, in general, eating alcohol-sodden cakes looks unlikely to have the same effect as shooting neat spirits.

“Basically, the effect you are talking about relates to the availability of the alcohol,” says Dr Simon Worrell, of the School of Chemistry & Molecular Biosciences at Australia’s University of Queensland. “Food slows the absorption of the alcohol into the bloodstream, which results in a lower blood alcohol reading (measured by the breathalyser).” Breaching the drink-drive limit, then, is a tall order without eating more cakes than your gullet is happy to handle, even if they are as moist, tasty and artistic as those from Cake Follies. That said, sip a few wines first and these siren-like treats could definitely land you in bother. B & C

“we

s u s p e c t e d t h at o u r

h o m e - u s e b r e a t h a ly s e r wa s a b i t n a f f o r t h e r e w e r e e x t e r n a l fac to r s at wo r k ”

DO IT AT HOME

which is sweeter than Scotch and contains vanilla and caramel notes, is also a good bet and a Miss Follies favourite. It is the same process for Tequila and lemon buttercream with coconut-infused vodka. The key thing is to use quality spirits where possible, which, in this case, means vodkas infused with natural flavours and 100% agave Tequila, if you can get it. Those looking to prod the drinkdriving limit should bake the cupcakes for about 10 minutes longer than your favourite recipe instructs (being careful not to burn them), which will dry out the crumb; this will hold the liquid better. Allow them to cool and syringe a shot of alcohol into the centre of the cake until it is bulging like a bourbon bubo.

ou don’t have to head to the outer limits of sensory satisfaction by drowning the cake in back-tobasics booze. Instead, consider how flavours fit together. Chocolate buttercream with orangeinfused vodka, for example, plays on a classic combination. We added a total of 64ml of vodka in stages to 400g of buttercream, which was used on 22 cakes. This was the maximum alcohol the buttercream would take before curdling. For an extra punch, pierce small holes in the cakes with a skewer and splurge a tablespoon or two of an orange liqueur like Grand Marnier or a Scotch whisky over the sponge. Steer clear of the peaty, smoked whiskies from Islay or you’ll drown the flavours. Bourbon,

a s h ot e l i m p r e sa r i o s da n g l e t h e i r m e at u n d e r t h e noses of london’s menfolk, luring them into the un c harted reac hes of aftern oon tea with hard l i q u o r a n d yo r k i e s , a r e t h e g row i n g n u m b e r o f torqued-up

‘gentlemen’

Words: Charlie Wright

ore JD, vicar? Sinking hard liquor at three in the afternoon used to be called alcoholism. Now it’s called afternoon tea if the shot glass is served on a doily. This definitive caking occasion is no longer the preserve of desiccated Dickensian dowagers and crumpetwielding crochet-strumpets. A new breed of teas are tempting well-to-do hens and gimmick-addict she-hipsters as cool as the cucumber sandwiches. Can men be persuaded to join the party? Not just the elderly, fondantfancying curate, neutered by years atop his nutcracker penny-farthing. What about the wry metrosexuals and unreconstructed hunter-gatherers inspired by TV’s new breed of cock-

teas mere bluster?

Illustration: Andrea Kett

“the

menus

are bolder, s tretc hing the concept with booze, boobs & beef”

the bes t and wors t of gents’ teas

Rock’n’Roll Afternoon Tea, Bistro One Ninety (Kensington)

Gentleman’s Afternoon Tea, Westfield Holiday Inn (Stratford City)

Fading rockers who can’t party like they used to have been known to pour iced tea into empty bottles of JD to swig on-stage. This is similarly soft-centred. For £26.50, the sandwiches, scones and macaroons are followed by a slice of Bistro One Ninety’s “signature Jack Daniel’s pecan tart” – and an optional glass of JD and coke. Impressively varied fare but as rock ‘n’ roll as an afternoon with your gran.

At £19.95, this budget option is aimed at miserable menfolk dragged moaning to the shops by wives and girlfriends on a spending bender. The line-up includes sausage rolls, fish finger sandwiches, chicken liver parfait and a shot of whisky. And yes, a Yorkie bar. For the same cash you could get everything on the menu plus a bottle of whisky from a decent-sized BP garage.

In short: Rock out with your Coke out

In short: One in the Bird’s Eye

Gentleman’s Tea, Chiswell Street Dining Rooms (Barbican) This quietly dignified affair assembles Welsh rarebit, buttered toast and homemade scones in stylish but unfussy surroundings at the heart of the City of London. Reasonably priced at £20, its absence of alcohol speaks of a classical caking conviction, though it has a bar in case you change your mind.

Man’s Afternoon Tea, Drink Shop & Do (Kings Cross) Here £28 buys you a pint of lager or ale, sandwiches, pork scratchings and a Yorkie bar. Irony or laziness? When it’s this hard to tell, it’s probably both. Go to the pub instead.

In short: A rarebit in the headlights

In short: Drink, shop and don’t

Gentleman’s Afternoon Tea, Reform Social & Grill (Marylebone) For £26.50, the Reform in Mayfair’s Mandeville Hotel swaps sandwiches for savouries including sausage rolls, miniature beef burgers and even snails. Devoid of alcohol and ribaldry, this is afternoon tea for the man with nothing to prove – a man comfortable enough in his own skin to order a blackcurrant & hibiscus tea with his plate of fancies. And no wonder: the Mandeville claims to have pioneered the just-for-gents afternoon tea – with an imposing pedigree stretching all the way back to 2010. In short: The history boys

Afternoon Tease, Volupte Lounge (Holborn)

Gents Afternoon Tea, Sanctum Soho (Soho)

Not so much Dita von Teese as divas with teas. For £49, the Volupte Lounge in Holborn promises a lovers’ tiffin of “burlesque beauties, cupcake cuties and sultry songstresses” – as well as savoury sandwiches, sweet treats and perfumed brews. Hard-hitting cocktails are available for extra. Not marketed specifically for fellas – and guests are advised to get as “glammed-up and gorgeous as possible”, which may not appeal to every red-blooded hetero male – but it’s easy to see the appeal of this naughty-but-nice slice of voluptuous vaudeville. It’s available for stag dos, too.

Nothing says ‘manly’ like poached oysters. For £50, Sanctum Soho Hotel boasts an impressively meaty multicourse menu for flesh-hungry fellas. Seared steak, mini beef burgers and rabbit pasties are all on the agenda. The cake course is a twice-baked chocolate fudge affair with Jack Daniel’s ice cream. There’s also a “tankard” of Jack after your tea or coffee. Proceedings wind down with a cigar on the rooftop terrace, where gentlemen can discuss the state of the Empire and tug thoughtfully on their muttonchops.

In short: Porn in a teacup

In short: Close (to perfect) with a cigar

Is Fairtrade fair? is

‘ethical’

c h o c o l at e a s b e n i g n a s i t m a k e s o u t

o r m e r e ly a v i c t o r y f o r e m o t i o n o v e r e v i d e n c e ?

Words: Andrew James Williams

t used to be so much simpler. The most taxing culinary choice we faced was whether to have beef dripping or lard on our corned badger. In baking chocolate, it was either a slab of Bourneville… or a slab of Bourneville. Now you need a double-PhD in social anthropology and economics if you aspire to making an informed choice. From Dairy Milk to Kit Kats, chocolate bars bear more do-gooder badges than Baden Powell. But the ubiquity of ‘fair trade’ logos has sown seeds of doubt about the fairness of the whole shebang. Ethically sourced chocolate “lacks credibility among a sizeable minority of users”, say choc-chasing market researchers Mintel. Almost one in five shoppers do not trust ethical claims, while a further 42% say they are undecided. Two in five are unsure whether these products are worth the extra cash – and more than a quarter are certain they aren’t.

Why this reluctance to ensure farmers in developing countries get a living wage? We aren’t all hedge fund managers, after all. Is it simply recessionary penny-pinching? Or is it our scepticism over whether these schemes really deliver on their promise to benefit the poorest of the poor? “The marketing of these products is powerful and is designed to make people feel guilty if they don’t buy the more expensive ‘fair trade’ product,” says free trade advocate Linda Whetstone, co-author of Half a Cheer for Fairtrade. “I am sure that it must benefit some or most producers, but then it does not include the smallest and poorest producers because of the requirements and cost of entry. Consumers do not know or understand this. They think they are helping the neediest producers because that is what the Fairtrade movement leads them to believe.”

Chris Cramer, a professor at the School of Oriental & African Studies, University of London, is perhaps Fairtrade’s fiercest critic of late. He points to blind spots around the above-market-rate premium paid to Fairtrade producers. During a talk on the impact of Fairtrade coffee on poverty, he said: “I think the whole issue around ‘fair trade’ [is] full of confusion. Often this is a polarised debate. You get evangelical Fairtrade champions on the one hand, saying this is the only way to promote global justice and reduce poverty. On the other hand, you have wildly simplistic critiques around the dangers of intervening in a market. “The main point for me is that we don’t know enough. And in a situation of uncertainty, what do I buy? Who do I believe? There’s a space created for emotion, ideology and values to enter into the debate.” Are we so confused that we pay a

“ yo u

go to

the people who run the c o o p e r at i v e , they’ll show yo u s o m e n i c e , f r i e n d ly fa r m e r s a n d t h e n yo u become a useful idiot”

premium simply to alleviate our social guilt? In psychoanalysis, the phrase ‘phantasy’ applies to stories we tell ourselves to help make sense of things, he said. We know what we want fair trade to be, rather than knowing what it actually achieves. “A lot of the research on Fairtrade, both critical and supportive, is based on very quick studies – in and out,” he explained. “You go to the people who run the cooperative, they’ll show you some nice, friendly farmers and then you become a useful idiot.” Cramer interviewed thousands of people living in poverty around farms in Ethiopia and Uganda to see first-hand the effects down the worker chain. “One of the main assumptions is that we’re dealing with small farmers who hire family labour; they’re not the poorest people,” he said. “The poorest are those who might go to bed hungry and who, in order to survive, depend on access to waged employment on small farms. They are, in much of [Fairtrade] research, invisible. What we may have found is that poor wage workers are completely neglected by Fairtrade and Fairtrade is largely irrelevant to them.” Once the preserve of premium brands like Green & Black’s, Fairtrade is now a multibillion-pound market. It is increasingly the de facto method of sourcing chocolate, with confectionery giants Cadbury, Mars and Nestlé all now on board. Sales of Fairtrade chocolate have grown by around 20% a year since 2007. Three million bars of the stuff are eaten every day in the UK. Is there an alternative? A new breed of high-end chocolate producers claim direct trade with farmers – paying over and above the Fairtrade premium for top quality – achieves better results. They argue that growing and processing to the highest standards is labourintensive, meaning farmers have to employ more staff. They also tend to support those workers better. To be a truly ethical shopper, therefore,

you must dip into your pocket. “To talk about fairness without discussing price is blatantly lying to oneself,” says Philipp Kauffmann, founder of premium chocolate brand Original Beans. “We think a minimum income for a cacao-producing farming family should be about £200 per month. That is not a lot for a family of six or seven living in a country where airplane tickets cost as much as in the UK. Fairtrade these days guarantees £135 a month and as a farmer, you have to do a whole lot of paperwork that keeps you from spending time with your cacao trees and beans.” Some people believe Fairtrade denotes better quality – yet the truth could be quite the opposite, Kauffmann adds. “Guilt only goes so far,” he says. “The only way you can get me to pay a premium for a product is to offer me a good product – not a ‘feelgood’ product. That is why the best chocolates in the world are among the fairest chocolate choices you can make.” Green & Black’s founder Craig Sams takes a different view. His company, which is now owned by US giant Kraft, became the first chocolate brand to carry the Fairtrade logo in 1994. Sams insists a kick up the cacao from a certifier is the best way to ensure consumers get what they pay for. “My view has always been that

“the

o n ly way y o u

c an get me to p ay a p r e m i u m for a product is to offer me a good product

–

n ot a feelgood product”

it is claimed higher quality production demands more staff

new research suggests the fairtrade premium does

not reach the poorest people

“people

wa n t a s i m p l e ,

c l e a r m e s sag e a n d t h at ’ s w h at fa i r t r a d e o f f e r s ”

having someone else keeping you on your toes is the right way to do it,” he says. “If an inspector from the Fairtrade Foundation comes along and says, ‘We’re not happy that this cooperative is being run in a dictatorial fashion,’ you do something about it because there is the threat of losing that premium business. It’s a barrier against anybody cheating. I’m sceptical that without that thirdparty certification, people are going to be vigorous in imposing that control.” But given the huge scale of Fairtrade, can certifiers even meet the expectations placed on them? An academic study at Queen Mary University of London asked whether ‘ethical’ shoppers should trust Fairtrade and questioned the ability of such schemes to monitor conditions on the ground due to the sheer numbers of people needed to do it. Nevertheless, there is no doubting that the Fairtrade premium has changed the lives of many hard-up workers – including those in the South African wine trade. “I found that the wives of workers were very supportive of the Fairtrade project because they had nursery places funded by the Fairtrade community fund,” says professor Janet Dine at Queen Mary. “As well as this, there was less alcoholism. Originally, workers were paid with wine!” Where does all this leave us? A 1,400word missive from the Fairtrade Foundation sent to Beaten & Creamed highlighted the sensitivity of the subject. “We would suggest that a focus on a small number of producers should not be used to

generalise across the whole of the Fairtrade system around the world,” says spokesperson Eileen Maybin. “Fairtrade works with 1.24 million farmers and workers in 991 producer organisations in 66 countries, including 17 of the world’s least-developed countries. “While our core aim is to enable poor smallholder farmers to move incrementally towards sustainable development, our standards state that, when they hire labourers, smallholder farmers must share any benefits of Fairtrade and progressively improve working conditions. “Our experience is that many of the producers of goods sold on conventional international markets are living in absolute poverty. We do not believe the conventional, uncertified market can offer a better alternative.” Indeed, twice as many people (35%) still believe it is worth paying more for Fairtrade as those who doubt it. “People want a simple, clear message and that’s what Fairtrade offers,” says Sams. “It’s made a huge, ongoing difference to the lives of tens of thousands of farmers, who really value being a part of it.” If you remain unconvinced by Fairtrade but want to avoid feeling like a heartless husk, Cramer urges: “What you should do is rather than buying Fairtrade, spend your money on the very best quality you can [afford]. I have a hunch that you’re more likely to make a tiny difference that way than you are with Fairtrade.” Alternatively, buy a cheaper chocolate and give your spare change to charity. Now, deciding which cause to back…

B & C

BAKERS VS CHEFS t h e g r e a t b r i t i s h b a k e o f f s ay s m u c h a b o u t o u r n a t i o n a l a t t i t u d e s t o f o o d a n d r e v e a l s a s c h i s m b e t w e e n b a k e r s a n d c h e f s . w e s p e a k t o 2 012 winner john whaite and masterchef legend michel roux jr

Words: Andrew James Williams

Photos: Sophia Al-Irimi (John Whaite) & Antonia PeĂąa (Michel Roux Jr)

he Great British Bake Off was the on the outside and a crème de menthe, with surprise smash of 2010 when it first beautifully poached pears in vanilla syrup. lifted a rock to reveal seven million Food heaven, I’m on a cloud!” he extols. baking fans craving cake-wrecking antics and Contrast that with cock-er-ney comforting confection. Series four is now Masterchef co-host Gregg Wallace regularly cooling on window sills amid little sign of deepthroating spoonfuls of stodgy British bunting fatigue. puds, eyes rolled back as he thinks of England, Its appeal spans genders and generations. and you get a flavour of the national difference. Yet our longing for lopsided layer cakes is met “He’s got a theory that brown and wet food, nine with scorn across the Channel. times out of 10, will be good,” notes Michel. “Pastry à l’anglaise has nothing to do When we visit, the Michelin-starred with art or beauty or even taste,” sniffed cook is on a break from filming a history of French [food] writer Agnès Poirier, taking a patisserie, exploring its relationship with blowtorch to the concept of entente cordiale. baking. “What we’re looking for is the answer “It belongs to a childlike to the question, ‘What is the fantasy world inhabited difference between pastry with fairies and ogres where and patisserie?’ Is it just “ g r e g g wa l l a c e standards of beauty and baking? There is a massive has got a taste don’t apply. French difference,” he insists. baking is Versailles to the He argues that French t h e o ry t h at Bake Off’s Milton Keynes – sweets are better thanks brown and one a perfectly light soufflé to a culinary heritage wet food, suspended in time and air, stretching from Marie nine times the other as reassuring and Antoine Carême, perhaps invigorating as a brick.” the first celebrity chef, and o u t o f 10 , Or a horsemeat his banquet pieces-montées will be good” lasagne, she didn’t add. – sugar scale models of Stung by this Zidanefamous landmarks – on to style assault on our baking today’s high-end Parisian sensibilities, Beaten & Creamed asked gaunt patisseries headed by luminaries such as Gallic knife-man Michel Roux Jr and plucky Philippe Conticini. GBBO champ John Whaite for their take on “For me, Paris is the birthplace of patisserie,” the Bake Off – and what it says about crossstates Michel. “If you look back historically at Channel culinary culture. Carême and all the other great pastry chefs of We took a trip down to Mayfair in the 1800s and even before, banquets were very London, washing up on the more likeable decorative, with sculptures on the table. Now shores of celebrity chefery, namely Roux’s in Paris, with its glamour and chic boutiques, Le Gavroche HQ. The Masterchef host some of the shops are just mindblowing. You has a penchant for pastry, having begun his walk past what you think is an haute couture career making desserts. His favourite piece de shop, then think, ‘Hang on, I didn’t see a dress, patisserie, tarte poire bourdaloue, is indicative I saw a cake’. Stunning. The boys and girls are in of a certain French refinement. designer uniforms. It’s so hip!” “It has a beautiful, crumbly sweet pastry What does Michel think of GBBO’s anti-

glam rendering of baker-tainment? He is broadly diplomatic and complimentary, but notes more acidly that his countryfolk failed to see the lure of “soggy bottoms”. French TV’s twin takes on pastry making – Qui Sera le Prochain Grand Pâtissier and Le Meilleur Pâtissier – share a haughtier haute cuisine flavour. “I read about a version of GBBO being sold to France and it didn’t actually do that well,” Michel says. “The female judge – the equivalent of Mary Berry – sneered at the British version and said the cakes were heavy and rough, and certainly not as good as the French one. [The French shows are] very, very high-end – some of the best food shows on Earth.” Surely even masterchefs have the occasional cake disaster when starting out? “No,” he counters. “When I was an apprentice, the chefs that I was working for didn’t let me. The first year was very, very menial tasks, cleaning, preparing fruit. Then you slowly progress to glazing little tartlets. It’s only by the end of year two that you’d be allowed to make a mille feuille, for example. It would take two years to learn the basics.” While in the UK, professional bakers often refer to chefs as ‘pan bashers’, in France the rivalry is even more pronounced. “I did an apprenticeship in a patisserie shop and we would always sneer at the baker and his work,” he recalls. “There was a respect. Fine, he could make bread. But as soon as he dabbled in pastry it was heavy-handed, dull and lacked finesse. That still exists to a certain extent. They are two distinct areas of sweet things.” Which brings us back to John Whaite who, since finishing GBBO, has been honing his pastry chops – ironically, perhaps – at the Cordon Bleu school in London. John was offered the inevitable book deal before his victorious chiffon cake had even cooled, but he is taking his future as a baker seriously. Understandably, he raises an eyebrow at our shonky cake photoshoot

michel roux jr: it all began in paris

scene when we meet up. “You must mention I didn’t bake those cakes!” he insists, while gamely installing himself into position. (Editor’s note: the baked wrecks are exclusive B&C recipes constructed from the finest ingredients available for loose change, including ‘baking block’ butter replacer and Trex vegetable fat frosting.) He says viewers’ empathy with on-screen baking disasters is a major part of GBBO’s appeal. “When I salted the rum babas, I thought my world was over. But that’s because of the strange situation you find yourself in. You take it so seriously,” says John, much-loved for kitchen mishaps such as blitzing his finger. He appreciates better than most that heart-sinking feeling when a bake goes bad. “You spend all that time and effort, all that money… That pecan pie with cherry brandy I made on GBBO, it was a great, big, massive thing and it cost £25 to make. If you’re

“i’ve

a lway s s a i d t h a t e v e r y t h i n g t h a t ’ s w r o n g

in the world is inside a profession al kitc hen”

have you done that?’ When you are a depressive, you think about worst-case scenarios and what you need to do is turn that energy into something constructive. Churchill built walls and painted pictures for his depression. I can’t do that because I’ve got two left hands, but what I can do is bake.” Which is why, with a second book coming in early 2014 and ambitions for his own patisserie, he will continue to hold the British baking ethos dear. “I want to be a professional and winning doesn’t make you a professional, it means you’re a good home baker,” he says. But I’ve always said that everything that’s wrong in the world is inside a professional kitchen: there’s a hierarchy, there are people shouting, there is sweat, people in tears. You can’t compare that with something you did with your granny when you were four.”

strapped for cash and want to treat yourself by making a cake and it goes wrong, you’ve just chucked your money away. There’s nothing more gutting.” This is why GBBO has a unique appeal. “I think for home bakers, GBBO is relatable. It’s tangible. Anyone who’s been brought up in our culture will have baked with their grandparents or their mum and it will recollect memories for them. Through watching it, all these emotions can escape. People write theses on it – and send them to me!” In fact, that emotional tug formed the theme of his debut book, John Whaite Bakes, which is based on moods and channeling depression through baking. “When I was working for an insurance firm, on a day off I baked about six different things,” he recalls. “My mother was like, ‘That’s a bit erratic, why

B & C

Part four: Making

BAKING CHOCOLATE TASTE TEST w e s c o u r e d t h e s u p e r m a r k e t s t o c o m pa r e t h e b e s t c h o c o l a t e s ava i l a b l e f o r b a k i n g

Testing: Patrick Moore

Illustration: Natalia Tyulkina

n my previous life as a chef, before I switched to becoming a baker, in order to get hold of a quality chocolate (couverture) with a high cocoa content, I had to use a specialist supplier and pay a massive premium. Back then our supermarket shelves were heavily stocked with only the classic Bourneville (most UK home baking recipes until very recently were based on it), and ‘bakers’ covering’. We were brought up on a diet of lesser-quality milk chocolate in the UK – we didn’t want our chocolate dark, it was too bitter. Dairy Milk led the charge, with its famed glassand-a-half of milk in each bar, squeezing out the cocoa. But chocolate in the UK has come a long way in the past decade. Now you can slip into any supermarket and purchase an array of single-origin and high-percentage couverture. Our wellinformed palates demand a darker, extra bitter, continental style of chocolate today. Or

Artisan Bakery’ in Staveley, the Lake District. As a reference point we used our ‘More? Muddee’ – arguably the ultimate chocolate brownie, having once beaten all other fine foods in Britain to bag the coveted Great Taste Awards grand prize. The test was led by myself, a regular reviewer for Which? magazine. It was to this recipe to which we added even-sized chunks of each test chocolate and served them up to a tasting panel. All chocolates were blind tasted, with no packaging or accompanying marketing bumph to sway our views. We marked each of them on overall flavour, texture, melt and ‘the chocolate factor’. These are easily obtainable chocolates and all have between 70% and 74% cocoa content – the benchmark percentage most modern baking recipes use – for as fair a comparison as possible.

“we

were brought

up on a diet of lesser-qualit y milk c h o c o l at e i n the uk

–

da i ry m i l k

led the charge, w i t h i t s fa m e d glass-and-a-half of milk in eac h bar, squeezing out t h e co coa ”

1st

The Co-operative ‘Truly irresistible’ Ghanaian dark chocolate (Fairtrade) 70% £1.75 Judges were very impressed with the wellrounded and intense chocolate flavour delivered by this punchy little number. An impressive firm-set texture resulted in a nice, slow but even melt that continued to deliver an intense dark chocolate flavour as it dissipated in the mouth.

=2nd

Green & Black’s organic dark (Fairtrade) 70% £1.50 With G&B’s, the whole panel agreed it was a well-rounded, generally palate-friendly chocolate that won’t offend but will definitely satisfy. The benchmark of new wave continental dark chocolate achieved the most consistent scoring albeit not the highest marks from the panel. Is this the new Bourneville?

=2nd

Montezuma’s organic very dark chocolate 73% £2.39 Montezuma’s scored equally well – but should it have won, given the chocolate’s pedigree and price? It only received the top spot from one judge, who applauded a real delivery of ‘wow’ chocolate factor. Judges felt it delivered on depth of flavour and, while not delivering singleorigin fruitiness, it had a character of its own worthy of merit. Interestingly, for one judge it was the lowest-scoring chocolate. For either a ganache or a topping/coating chocolate, judges felt this was ideal but could not agree its price justified its use as a melted baking inclusion.

Lidl Bellarom ‘Finest’ dark chocolate (Rainforest Alliance) 74% 79p

3rd

This has to be awarded the title of best budget quality choc. The judges applauded the intensity of chocolate flavour and with a cocoa content of 74% – the highest in our test – it delivered a depth of character beyond its price tag.

5. Lindt Dark Noir 70% £1.83

8. Sainsbury’s ‘Taste the Difference’ Belgian dark chocolate (Fairtrade) 72% £1.50

6. Marks & Spencer organic dark

9. Asda ‘Extra Special’ Ivory Coast dark chocolate (Fairtrade) 70% £1

chocolate (Fairtrade) 72% £2.09

7. Waitrose Continental Plain Chocolate 72% £1.15

10. Morrison’s organic dark chocolate (Fairtrade) 70% £1.29

r a n k by u n ba k e d e at i n g

1. Montezuma’s

6. Lindt

2. Co-op

7. M&S

3. Green & Black’s

8. Waitrose

4. Asda

9. Sainsbury’s

5. Lidl

10. Morrisons

o r c h o c o l at e i c e c r e a m sa n dw i c h ,

Recipe: Nieves Barragán Mohacho Images: Rebecca Fennell

Makes 6 Ingredients: 160g plain flour 160g butter 150g 70% chocolate, melted 80g sugar 50g icing sugar 6 egg yolks 6 egg whites ½ tsp baking powder Dark chocolate mousse: 250g double cream 100g 70% chocolate, melted White chocolate mousse: 200g white chocolate, melted 500ml double cream 15g caster sugar 1 egg 1 egg yolk

i f yo u w i l l

The bocadillo de bizcocho is a dessert that is served at Fino in London, made using Original Beans’ Cru Virguna 70% chocolate. Bizcocho can mean a number of sweet things in Spanish but in this recipe it refers to the light sponge used to make the sandwich, the bocadillo. All the elements for putting this dessert together can be made in advance. When ready to serve, with a steady hand, it can be assembled fairly quickly. 1. Preheat the oven to 180°C. Grease and line a circular bizcocho mould or a 10-inch cake tin will do. 2. Begin by creaming together the butter and the icing sugar. Add the melted chocolate – making sure it is not too hot – to the mix and beat together, incorporating the egg yolks. Continue to mix until the mixture has homogenised.

Nuts: 50g pistachios and hazelnuts 1 tbsp sugar

Hazelnut ice cream: 200ml single cream 100g hazelnuts (skinned) 15g caster sugar 2 egg yolks

4. Bake in the oven for 30 minutes. When finished remove, allow to cool and turn out onto a rack. When ready to assemble, slice the bizcocho into rectangles approximately 4 inches by 2 inches.

To make the dark chocolate mousse: Whip the cream until half peaked and fold in the chocolate. Leave to cool for at least one hour. To make the white chocolate mousse: 1. Whisk the egg and extra egg yolk together with the sugar until it becomes a sabayon (a light, custardy, foamy sauce). Fold the chocolate into the whisked eggs. Aside, whip the cream until soft peaks and fold into the main mixture. Leave to cool for at least one hour.

Using an ice cream maker: 1. Begin by roasting the hazelnuts on a baking sheet in a low oven, or toast them in a dry pan. If you have been unable to find skinned hazelnuts, you can remove the skins at this stage by rubbing the nuts together in a tea towel and loosening their skins. 2. Blend the hazelnuts in a food processor until they have formed a paste; the natural oils in the nuts will create a fudge-like consistency. Set aside.

2. When ready to assemble, spoon the dark and white chocolate mousse into separate piping bags. If you do not have piping bags then two separate spoons and palette knives will work as well.

3. Next begin the crĂ¨me anglaise: bring the cream to the boil and in a separate bowl combine the caster sugar and egg yolks. When the cream has just reached boiling point, remove from the heat and add to the combined sugar and yolks.

For the nuts: In a pan, caramelise the pistachios and hazelnuts with the sugar. Once cool, chop with a sharp knife or use a blender to roughly cut the nuts. Have these to hand when assembling the dessert.

4. Next, place this mixture over a pan of simmering water, taking care that the bowl and the water do not come into contact â&#x20AC;&#x201C; you are merely using the steam to start to cook the crĂ¨me. Slowly and carefully whisk the mixture until it begins to thicken; your aim is to scald

the cream (specifically to bring it to 82â °C), not forth until the piece is covered (A). boil it. If the bowl becomes too hot too quickly, the yolks will cook and scramble the crĂ¨me. 2. Carefully place the second layer of sponge on top, and repeat with the dark chocolate mousse. 5. When the mixture is smooth, with a custard- Top with the third rectangle of sponge (B). like consistency, remove from the heat and add the hazelnut paste. Combine and leave to cool. 3. Using a sharp knife, gently cut the oblong Transfer to your ice-cream maker. from corner to corner, making two triangles. Turn on their sides and sprinkle with the To assemble the bocadillo: chopped nuts, leaving a trace on the plate too. 1. Take the rectangular pieces of bizcocho and Spoon out a scoop of the hazelnut ice cream and place the first piece on a plate. Using the piping place on top of the trace of nuts â&#x20AC;&#x201C; this prevents bag squeeze out the white chocolate mousse it from slipping. Finally add another sprinkling onto the sponge in one flow, going back and of nuts and serve. B & C

s u m m e r c a n b e a l l y e a r ro u n d w i t h f lo r a l d e c o r at i o n s

Recipe: Natasha Collins

Images: Rebecca Fennell

veryone needs a dramatic cake up their sleeve – one that is nonetheless a snitch to make if you don’t have the inclination to spend long hours perfecting the icing. Edible flowers are the perfect solution. All you need is some easy-to-make buttercream icing and a handful of flowers to throw at your cake. You can find many edible flowers in your own garden. Most of us know that you can eat rose petals and pansies, but were you aware garden daisies are edible? Of course, just because you can eat a flower doesn’t mean you should; some have a very bitter taste – and you wouldn’t want an onion-flavoured chive flower on your delicate sponge.

Never use a flower that has been sprayed with pesticides or other chemicals. Make sure you correctly identify the flower and eat only the edible part. Always wash them carefully and leave them to dry on sheets of kitchen roll. If you are unsure which flowers are edible, there are many reputable sellers of crystallised flowers online such as eatmyflowers.co.uk or firstleaf.co.uk. I even found my local supermarket selling pots of flowers in its salad section. The following recipe is for a gooseberry and elderflower cake. If you would rather make 12 cupcakes than a sponge, use half the ingredients, divide between 12 cupcake cases and bake for 12-15 minutes.

1. Pre-heat the oven to 200°C (175°C for fanassisted ovens). Butter, flour and line a 7-inch sponge tin. 2. Beat the butter and sugar together for a few minutes until they become creamed and lighter in colour. Add the eggs one at a time and beat them into the mixture (if it curdles, add a teaspoon of the flour). 3. Sift the flour into the bowl and fold it into the mixture with a spoon. Finally, add the elderflower cordial and fold this into the mixture too. 4. Transfer the mixture into the cake tin and bake for 50-60 minutes until baked through – you can test this with a skewer inserted into the middle of the cake, which should come out clean. Leave the cake in the tin for 10 minutes and turn out onto a cooling tray. 5. Beat all the buttercream ingredients together until creamy. Decorating the cake: Cake mix: 300g unsalted butter, room temperature 300g caster sugar 300g self-raising flour 6 large eggs, room temperature 4 tablespoons of elderflower cordial Buttercream: 450g unsalted butter, room temperature 450g icing sugar 4 tablespoons of elderflower cordial Filling: 4 tablespoons of gooseberry jam

1. Cut the cake into three layers with a serrated knife or a cake leveler (A). If the top of the cake isn’t level or is slightly over-baked then level this off too. 2. Take the layer that was the top of the cake, turn it over and place onto a board or turntable, so that the part of the cake that was at the top will be the base of the finished cake. This means the roughest surface – the one that you have cut – will be hidden. 3. Using a spatula or palette knife, create a ledge of buttercream around the edge of this first layer (B). This will hold the jam in place and stop it from mixing with the frosting on the outside. Then spread the gooseberry jam over the cake layer up to the buttercream (C). 4. Take the middle cake layer and place

carefully on top of the bottom layer.

under the edge of the cake (these are used to keep your decorating edges clean and can be 5. Make a second ledge of buttercream on the easily removed when you are done) (E). top of this new layer, then add a good dollop of buttercream in the middle and spread it to the edge. 10. Then with your knife (make sure that it is clean), spread a good layer – at least 2cm thick 6. Next take the final remaining layer, turn it – of buttercream all over the cake. Use the knife upside down and place on top of the rest of the to smooth the sides or to create a texture if you cake (this gives you a good flat top and a nice wish (F). Carefully pull away the baking paper to sharp edge to work with). reveal a lovely clean edge (G). 7. Spread a thin layer of buttercream over the top and sides of the cake with your knife – this is called a ‘crumb coating’ (D). Be careful not to transfer any crumbs from your knife back into the buttercream bowl.

11. Decorate the cake with a mixture of fresh and crystallised flowers. Start with the largest flowers first, and then add more of the smaller ones. I always prefer an asymmetrical design so the largest rose was placed off-centre and slightly to the right 8. Place the cake in the fridge for 15-30 minutes (H). Add some flowers around the edge until the buttercream has hardened slightly. too, with some cascading off the cake stand. Remember that the fresh flowers will wilt 9. Move the cake onto the cake stand or plate. fairly quickly, so decorate the cake as close Cut four strips of baking paper and place them to showing-off time as possible. B & C

c a k e m a k e r s to t h e ro l l i n g s to n e s , t h e tat to o e d ba k e r s get us in a fl ap with these winged toppers

Recipe & images: The Tattooed Bakers

inish off your floral cake with these stunning sugarpaste butterflies that can be used as toppers on celebration cakes or cupcakes. These will take a degree of skill so back away from the brush if you failed your GCSE art. As they are decorative, they will last indefinitely. Store them in a cool dark place away from sunlight, as this will fade the colours, and note they are very fragile and will snap if handled too roughly!

and palette. Ensure you have a suitable work surface for rolling out florist paste (A).

1. Things you will need: florist paste, craft knife, ball tool and modelling tools, small rolling pin, angled spatula, paint brushes, edible glue, food colouring pastes/powders

6. Using a small ball tool, run the ball along the edges of the wings to flatten and thin out (E).

2. Roll out florist paste really thin (no more than 2mm). You may need to dust your work surface with cornflour or rub it with Trex to ensure the florist paste doesnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t stick (B). 3/4/5. Cut out each butterfly wing individually using a craft knife. Use a wing youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve cut as a template for the other side to ensure symmetry (C/D).

7. Using a small amount of edible glue attach the

top and bottom wings of either side together (F).

food colour pastes as this doesn’t break down the sugar (as water does). You can use food colouring pastes or powders, whichever is your preference. The finer the paintbrush, the more details you can include. Allow to dry (I/J).

8. Make a rough body shape using florist paste and modelling tools. These can be made in two parts as shown, which appears more realistic (G). 9. Line up the butterfly wing halves and using edible glue, stick the body over the join. Then using a modelling tool create a ‘fur effect’ around the body (H).

13. If you want to angle the wings of your butterfly, create an ‘M’ shape out of foil and place your butterfly in it until it has completely dried – you will need to do this before the florist paste has dried, as soon as you’ve painted it. Use your angled spatula to move your butterflies if you need to, until they are dry. As it is florist paste it will dry really hard quite quickly (K).

10. Use a modelling tool to score veins into the butterfly wings. 11/12. Paint your butterfly. You can use vodka (or another clear alcohol) to dilute your

the butterflies find a place to perch

meet eddie lebeau of t h e tat to o e d ba k e r s

How did you get into baking/cake making? “My dad is a chef so I learnt all the baking skills from him and baking is always something I’ve loved doing. Rich studied art, I studied art history so we were both artists who didn’t really have an outlet, until we met each other – and found that the outlet was, bizarrely enough, making cakes of dogs!” Your first bakery, Cake Doggy Dog, was about as niche as it’s possible to be. Is that why you transformed into the Tattooed Bakers?

eddie

(above l e f t ) a n d r i c h ;

their rolling stones c ake

“Cake Doggy Dog is so niche that we felt it was holding us back and decided the Tattooed Bakers needed to happen to enable us to explore other subject matter in cake, and indeed, to experiment with other types of baked goods and confectionery.” What kind of reaction did you get after your Jubilee corgi cakes got picked up by the likes of the Daily Mail? “A very good one! We were asked to make a cake for ITV Daybreak, Channel 5’s Live with Fern and other cake dogs for TOWIE. I think as our cake dogs were a totally new cake subject matter, sculpted in that much detail, they shocked and amazed people.” Dogs aside, what’s the craziest thing you’ve been asked to make in cake form? “The Rolling Stones Gorilla cake was pretty crazy. We only had a 36-hour turnaround time and it was massive – about half a metre wide. We have a couple of amazingly strange top secret projects coming up...” B & C

(below)

agony baker b e a t e n & c r e a m e d ’ s a g o n y b a k e r way n e c a d d y i s t h e ba k i n g g u ru at t h e s c h o o l o f a rt i sa n food, he represented the uk in the world b a k i n g c u p a n d wa s t h e f i r s t b r i t i s h b a k e r t o be selected for the pres tigious bakery mas ters c o m p e t i t i o n i n p a r i s i n 2 014 . i n s h o rt , h e ’ s b e t t e r at ba k i n g t h a n yo u a r e

My meringues fall flat on their ass, faster than a fat man who sat down too fast. That’s why my face is red, my egg whites are wasted. Any advice? Mr M. Inem, Trecco Bay Caravan Park

People assume I’m the daddy when it comes to making puff pastry but it usually ends up as stodgy as my dance moves. How do I make it flake? Mr P. Diddy, Weston-super-yacht

There are a few things that are really important for ensuring good results when making meringues, Mr Inem. Firstly, the bowl and whisk should be free of any fat or grease. Secondly, make sure you don’t add all the sugar at once – sugar reduces volume and slows down whipping. Add the sugar in half amounts; so the second stage of sugar is added when the egg whites begin to foam.

Fear not, Mr Diddy. Puff pastry is really tricky to perfect but if you persevere and practice, it is really simple. Here are some top tips that will help: make sure you have the correct ratio of fat to dough. Bakers typically refer to levels such as half or three-quarter puff, the amount of fat to the pastry dough. The higher the fat quantity, the flakier the puff pastry. Keep the pastry dough and fats cool and similar consistencies. Also, don’t over-mix the dough as the laminating (making layers of fat and pastry on top of each other) also helps to create the strength in the pastry. When laminating puff pastry, try to avoid using too much flour. And bake puff pastry at a hotter oven temperature, typically 230°C. Cooler ovens will not allow the steam to generate as effectively, which helps to create the individual layers.

How do I stop blueberries sinking to the bottom of my muffins? Also, from now on, I want to put an equal amount of blueberries in each muffin. An equal amount of blueberries in each muffin. Mr R. De Niro, The Tangiers Casino, Las Vegas Just before adding your fruit to the mixed muffin batter, lightly dust the fruits in a small amount of flour, Mr De Niro. This will stop the batter discolouring too. For the best result you can also sprinkle the fruits onto the top of the muffin. Re regulating the amount of blueberries in each muffin, do you know how long that's going to take?

For more details on courses in baking visit www.schoolofartisanfood.org

A CHILD OF FIVE COULD BAKE THAT

five-and-a-half, a c t u a l ly . v e g e ta b l e - p h o b i c baking prodigy amelia gibson from c a r d i f f ta k e s a break from making gingerbread men for her lunc hbox to review our beetroot brownie recipe

help with the words: mummy aka cl aire gibson

efore you start baking it's important to wash your hands. “All I've done since school is climb trees in the park, so I don't see why I need soap,” she protests. Amelia states her case again and again, but mummy wins and she has a sulk. Mummy says to line an eightinch baking tin and produces a tape measure. Tape measures are great fun. “Ping!” Eight inches is 21cm. “Ping!” Breaking up the chocolate into the bowl is difficult. Amelia starts licking her hands instead. “Can I eat one square?” Mummy says that will stop the brownie tasting as nice. “We should put one more square in so it tastes even nicer then,” reasons Amelia. “Would it taste much worse if there were two fewer squares? Much much much much much much worse if there were six fewer?”

Chopping the butter is a serious business. Amelia makes sure to ask mummy if each piece is exactly the right size before putting it in the bowl, then digs around the mix double-checking the dimensions of each piece. “My hands are messy. Butter is like hand sparkle. My hands are beautiful. This is fun.” Splodge! Butter on the floor. Mummy measures out the sugar and says the recipe needs loads of it – all the sugar in the world. “It can't be all the sugar in the world. Was there any more in the shop?” There was. Point proved. What's mummy putting in the sieve? Cocoa powder? “That looks nice. Wow! I like it. Yummy, yummy,” she says. “Actually, yuck.” Time to stir the mixture vigorously until combined. “I don't understand vigorously,” 97

she says. Mummy explains you have to mix it well until it is well mixed. Out comes the beetroot for grating. Mummy is nervous as little fingers travel the grater. Amelia rubs beetroot juice on her clothes. Mummy shouts. “I’ve got pink hands! Don't you like pink?” Amelia enquires. “Oh no! Beetroot looks like worms. Ewww, I just touched worms. Why do we have to put worms in the nice cake? I like chocolate cake but I don't like worm cake. This is silly.” Finally it's time to taste it. “I love it I love it I love it! Eww that bit was hot, I need water.” Must be the chilli. “Mummy says there's vegetables in this but I don't believe her – I think she just wants to eat it all herself,” she says. And her final verdict? “I don't like it that much but it's quite nice.” B & C

Contributors Phil Brooks is a graphic designer. He laid out Beaten & Creamed magazine and has also designed for the Olympic Park, Shakespeareâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Globe and Schon! magazine. @phil_c_brooks

Tom Delpech is a French graphic designer who has been living in the UK for over 14 years. He currently works for a London design studio. @tomdelpech

Sophia Al-Irimi is a creative image maker, a fine artist and a commercial photographer. She has exhibited in London, Manchester, NYC and Arles, France. @sophiaalirimi

Amanda Whelan also known as Cake Follies, Amanda is a vintage-inspired cake designer who hand-paints custom-made cakes for clients and events. See: facebook.com/ cakefollies

Rebecca Fennell is a freelance photographer based in Berkhamsted. Trained as a Cordon Bleu chef, she now specialises in food photography. @RebeccaFennell

Antonia PeĂąa is a photographer who has been internationally published in food magazines and has worked for world famous chefs including Juan Mari Arzak. @AntoniaPenia

Keith Cooper is a freelance journalist, writer, researcher and Essex man. He has written for Private Eye, the Spectator and The Guardian. @KeithCooper1973

Chris Sandel is a nutritionist; he sees clients, runs workshops and writes regularly about health and nutrition. See seven-health.com. @7Health

Chris Mercer has written on food and drink for The Guardian, Telegraph and Decanter. He is currently studying a food policy masters. @mercerchris

Sîan-Estelle Petty is Shakespeare’s Globe’s ‘Twitter queen’ and is responsible for all the Globe’s social media and its blog. @Sian_Estelle

Patrick McGuigan is a food and drink journalist who writes for Harrods Magazine, Shortlist and Restaurant. See: cheesechap.com. @PatrickMcGuigan

Richard Coyle is a doctor of English and teaches and writes about cultural history. He has published articles in Regency Today and World History.

Charlie Wright is an experienced food journalist, marzipan obsessive and former columnist for The Grocer. He currently writes for a major national newspaper.

Carla Valentine is head of the Shoreditch branch of the Clandestine Cake Club and organiser of cake-based events including CCC/The Death Café.

Penelope Beech is an illustrator whose work has been published across many titles including The Daily Telegraph, The Lady Magazine and Private Eye.

With special thanks to: Patrick Moore, Wayne Caddy, Sue Lyn Ting, Natalia Tyulkina, Philip Jones, Jean Egbunike, Eric Lanlard, Lizzie Jimoh-Osi Willsher, Tattooed Bakers, Beth Mottershead, Natasha Collins, Meringue Girls, Maya Marx, Jumeirah Carlton Hotel, Rebecca’s Vintage Tea Set, Rethink Retreats, Original Beans, Andy Tung, Shane Watson of Stack, Nieves Barragán Mohacho, Gail’s Bakery, Paxton & Whitfield, Toby Hampton, Bill Drummond, Cake Pop Princess, Ellie Cowan, Bonsoir sleepwear, Susann Jerry, Claire and Amelia Gibson and Andrea Kett (andreakett.co.uk)

Coming in 2014, the second edition:

DOUGHNUTS! (Maybe)