Britain has been baking. Averagely. In hot weather, natch, and averagely because all the winter months are spent longing for the hot weather, then it arrives and the native Brits realise their island is not built for heat, and after 2 consecutive days of warm forecasts the weather presenters already preface their info with, ‘And I’m sorry to say it’s looking like another warm one’.
I’ve been bloody loving it, even if it means sleeping in boiled bedrooms at 27C during the night, something I’d never do in Australia. Also, I’ve been able to dress NewHuman as a proper Aussie; that is, he’s been wearing nothing but nappies and, occasionally, a Bonds singlet. Perfection.
I do miss Twinpoles, though (specific Western Australian cultural reference there, icypole fans).
Right. Please note the below:-
Discovered in a shop called Outsider Tart in the posh reaches of West London. It delivers brownies of quite good quality, hilarious coffee (I once went in and ordered an iced latte and was given a nice hot latte with rapidly melting ice blocks in it), and a plethora of American goods. Most of them seem to contain corn syrup. We got the above in the interests of average baking, not realising at time of purchase that they retailed in the region of £6 each. OW.
Today I’ve put the butterscotch chips to work. The open packet smells rankly of decay, but the boyfriend assures me they taste better than they smell. I’ve added oatmeal/rolled oats to this made-up recipe in an attempt to give it some texture beyond that of cooked sugar. Vague success.
Preheat your oven to 190C or so. Have a couple of lined baking trays ready to go.
3/4 cup plain flour
half teaspoon baking powder
half teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
1 cup rolled oats (I used porridge oats so they were a bit broken up, ie: not in whole rolled oat form)
3/4 cup light brown sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla paste (or essence, whichever. Whatever)
125g butter. I think. I forgot to measure it. About half a 250g packet, or close enough. Softened, please.
Choc chips – I used about half a cup of dark choc in a lame attempt to balance out the butterscotch mentalness.
Butterscotch chips. Do feel free to substitute these or just leave them out altogether.
Cream the butter and sugar till fluffy. I’ve been forced to use my new beaters. £14 they cost. Bout the same as those two packets of chop chips, actually. Anyway, I want my old beaters back. I can’t have them. They are dead dead dead.
After the sugar and butter is creamy add the egg and vanilla and beat some more. It won’t look as much like sick as I’d imagined.
Add the dry stuff (excluding the chips) and stir through.
Now you can stir the chips through. Go on.
Kind of looks like frozen sick.
Stick loaded dessertspoons on a lined baking tray and stick into the oven for about 10-12 minutes.
So although I was fairly confident the dog would cope well with NewHuman obviously there was no real knowing until they met.
I swear this was not a set up. I LOVE MY DOG.
Not so much when she’s refusing to move from my spot on the sofa, but when she does shit like this, then yes, she’s aces.
And now I have a gardening question. Please see below.
That little conifer on the far left? It got bought, repotted, fed and watered same as all the others. It’s also been suitably ignored when it comes to conifer haircutting. Anyway it’s dying. Dying deadly. The others are fine. Is it done for, properly, do you think? Shall I chuck it? Mulch it? Wail disappointedly at it?
Take your cookies out of the oven after you’re done reviewing your sad, dying garden plants. Let them settle a bit on the tray (they will emerge somewhat puffed up and slowly flatten). Transfer to a cooling rack. Eat.
Like I thought, too sweet. To the boyfriend’s office they will go, joining the ranks of all the too-sweet stuff and too-burnt stuff (oh, ShitOven, how shit you were).