November 10, 2012 by New Capel Street: Fabric Division
Or science for hungry people. I have recently discovered a love of baking, coinciding with a diagnosis of several food intolerances. These include cow’s milk, egg white and baker’s yeast, and therefore most of the fun things in food shops. That’s a whole other rant. So I’ve started baking. The first time, I was bored and just did a Google search on egg free, dairy free baking. Also known as vegan baking, which just proves that everyone loves cake. Heck, there’s even paleo cake.
Through my many explorations on Pinterest, I discovered this blog entry: http://ittybittykitchen.com/desserts-sweets/lemon-melting-moments/ and its accompanying photo of luscious-looking biscuits, sandwiched together with thick buttercream-looking icing. Today, I discovered that food stylists LIE. I’ll leave the progress photos and smug NAILED IT demotivationals to Pintester, but the biscuity icingy sandwiches I made today bear no resemblance whatsoever to these beauties. The icing is runny and gooey, the biscuits are the same colour but in no way could have been made into a dough roll and sliced in rounds as per recipe. Maybe if I’d put the bowl in the fridge for half an hour, this would be a far smugger entry, but I’d already had two glasses of wine at this stage and really wanted the damn biscuits.
They turned out to be delicious on their own, just out of the oven. What? There was an odd number? I had to even them out! Rather like shortbread, but with a vanilla lemony tang that was just beautiful, owing to a sploosh of vanilla essence and a teaspoon of lemon zest. Subtle, gorgeous, more please. But a rather dry munch, which explains the necessity of icing. Icing looked pretty simple – butter-like substance, sugar, lemon juice. So I put in the recommended quantities of each, and had gorgeous lemon icing. Lovely, yellow, runny lemon icing. It was deliciously sharp, the lemon juice cutting through the sugar perfectly, but you could drink this stuff through a straw. It wouldn’t do for sandwiching biscuits together. I am aware as I write that my definition of ‘biscuits’ is in no way the American definition, and with that awareness I say “Meh, I’m Irish. You call them cookies, we call them biscuits, they’re delicious one way or the other.” So I added more sugar. And more sugar. And decided I’d run out of sugar right soon if I didn’t stop adding sugar, so I stopped. The icing was now thick enough that, again, if I was bothered, I could have fridged and thickened, but I am impatient and wanted biscuits. So I went ahead and sammiched those bad boys together and now….well, let’s just say my teeth have diabetes now and leave it at that, shall we?
No? Okay. They were gorgeous, shortbready, lemony wonders and I am so making them again. I boxed up half a dozen un-iced for W, who loves shortbread, and the rest are on a tray in the kitchen. Maybe the top part of the sammich has slid off due to the icing being runny, who knows? All I know is, I mysteriously have learned how to bake awesomely, and if I paid proper attention to the recipes I might even be better. Mad, yo.