Weekender Biscuits

Afternoon.

Sorry for the brief break in communications. We’ve been in Morocco.  Allow me to brag a little:-

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The villa. Now, if you’re some rich millionaire who stays where they like when they like then this villa could be yours for some crazy price per night, in peak season.  If you are cheap but lucky bastards like us you (i) travel off peak and (ii) jag a deal that means you get a week of virtual solitude (apart from the hot French lady-neighbours in the next villa whose bikini bodies put my Speedo Enduro racer-back to such shame it still won’t speak to me) for rather a lot less.

We are cheap and lucky. The pool was heated, fabulous and accessible by falling straight into it from various villa doorways. Perfect for me who has a terrible habit of falling over and/or being drunk.

Anyway, Essaouira. I recommend it.  The medina was rather aces and whilst ten mins away from the villa was a whole world away in terms of everything else. Fabulous. And smelly. And a lot of cats, donkeys and dogs who I wanted to rescue.

I’m home now, we all are. It’s time to make Weekender biscuits. I’m fairly confident in saying that most children of my generation learnt to bake these pretty much first time we were allowed near any kind of oven. Aussie classic, recipe via the Australian Women’s Weekly. I don’t recall loving to make them very much as a kid, mostly cause the cornflakes bit is boring and messy.  That is, cornflakes are a boring cereal and crushing them and rolling the biscuits in them is messy. Still, here we are, all these years later and I survived it so well I am attempting it again.  Like many of these childhood faves I’ve not actually eaten one till now for YONKS but they are as good as ever.  Pretty basic, but good. Like NewHuman, actually.

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Preheat your oven to about 180C.

Gather:-

125g butter

75g caster sugar

I put in about a teaspoon of vanilla paste but the trad recipe doesn’t. But I do. So, you know, DO IT.

110g sultanas. I’m sure if you don’t like sultanas then (i) apologise to your bowels and (ii) substitute for another dried fruit of your choice.

1 egg

1 cup self raising flour

1 and a half cups cornflakes, crushed.  That’s not crushed cornflakes. That’s cornflakes, then crushed. K?

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Beat the butter and sugar, an electric mixer or hand beater will be your friend here, till smooth. Unusually for me I like to do this till it’s fairly fluffy.  I mostly can’t be bothered with that otherwise. Add your vanilla.

Then add the egg, beat till combined, then tip in the flour. You can either stir the flour through with the sultanas or carefully use your machine to incorporate the flour and then do the sultanas by hand.

Either way it’s a sticky bugger of a mix. Bloody biscuits.

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On a plate crush your cornflakes in your hand, pretending they are the skulls of whatever terrible Conservative politician you favour on the day. Today I went with Iain Duncan Smith. For those of you not au fait with him and his role in UK politics, feel free to google. Best you not be poor, a single parent mother, unemployed, have a serious and chronic illness, disability, etc etc.

ANYWAY. Crush them to around about the above consistency.

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Roll rounded teaspoons into balls and drop into the cornflakes, coating them.  Place on a tray and flatten slightly.

Into the oven for about 20 mins or so, or until lightly browned.

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NewHuman enjoyed the local wildlife. I enjoyed that the local wildlife had no chance of escape, really, and that even I, broken-kneed as I am, had a chance of grabbing a closer look. Tortoises on your lawn in the morning was very cool. Do they make good soup?

Biscuits out, leave to cool on trays. Eat.  As usual the Women’s Weekly wildly over-estimates how many this mix makes. They reckon 35. BOLLOCKS. I got 22. Or 23. Or something. And I only ate about 3 biscuit’s worth of mix. So. Make of that what you will.

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5 thoughts on “Weekender Biscuits

  1. narf77 says:

    I am officially NOT speaking to you! Morocco is a bucket list item for me that I might not get to indulge in. I guess I should count myself lucky. I would need a neck to knee body suit with lead weights to allow me to sink to the bottom of the pool and studiously avoid the hot French chicky-babes in the next room (and wine…a LOT of wine…wine makes EVERYTHING relative 😉 ). Ok, I forgive you.

    I seriously doubt that mum used vanilla bean paste in her cornies. I would imagine she was on the bottom shelf artificial vat of vanilla on a regular basis. I never got to mess about making cornies as mum didn’t have the time (or most probably the inclination) to clean up all of that mess. The closest I got to cooking as a kid (aside from school where I learned to make a mean cheesy rice) was helping mum prepare her Christmas cakes by peeling soaked almonds. She didn’t ask us to help the next year after we ate most of her almonds and she had to go down to the shops at the 11th hour to buy more (fair do’s mum, we left you the skins!).

    New Human sits! Kudos on the transformation from prostrate to upright. Always a good thing. I hear that crushed tortoise adds to the flavour of cornies (let’s face it, they aren’t up there in the flavour stakes, they are more “dunk in tea to revive you after hard work” good than “OH MY GOD I THINK I JUST DIED AND WENT TO HEAVEN” good…).

    Pretty soon New Human will enjoy mashing cornflakes for you. As soon as those tiny fists get a modicum of control they are primed for mashing. Put a box of cornflakes next to a wildly gesticulating small child and they can reduce a box of cornflakes to crumbs in a very short time (note, they probably eat about 3 biscuits worth of crumbs in the mashing but that’s just collateral damage for you).

    Glad to see that despite your obvious cavorting in Morocco where you are SERIOUSLY stretching friendships young lady…you are back to sharing good wholesome Aussie biscuits (NOT BLOODY COOKIES) with the world. The world needs Aussie biscuits to balance out the bullshit. Someone has to share them. May as well be you. Give New Human a smoosh from me. I bet he smells like tortoise (EVERYTHING goes into small questing mouths…ech…)

    I bet he has been tongue kissing the dog too…on second thoughts, just pat him on the head like Benny Hill did to that little bald guy for me O.K?

    • b-kom says:

      I should probably admit that he’s not great sitting up on his own yet and about ten seconds after the pic was taken he fell and we didn’t notice cause, you know, TORTOISE!

      • narf77 says:

        At least he didn’t fall over sideways with the tortoise in his mouth while you and the boyfriend were drinking martini’s on the new deck. We had the same thing (minus the New Human) with an echidna in the iris garden just outside our back gate a week or so ago. Steve was out there for about an hour trying to get a good shot while the poor little thing was rolled up thinking “GO AWAY” thoughts as loudly as he could but the stupid human didn’t seem to understand. I wonder if the tortoise was mentally bombarding New Human? 😉

      • b-kom says:

        More likely shouting at us adults, in a tortoisey way, to bugger off so he could get back to fun times in the bushes.

      • narf77 says:

        I reckon you might be right there. He DID have the tortoise equivalent of bigfoot trying to stuff him into it’s mouth so I figure buggering off into the safety (and fun) of the bushes might have been the best option. Lucky the dog didn’t see it or it might have been 2 sucks for the price of one!

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