No, the other way around. Baking to keep me sane.
I fall in and out of being a regular baker. I've been rather better at it over the last six months or so, mostly because I'm obliged to supply Sally with a snack for her break each day and I'd rather it was something that I'd made rather than something wrapped in plastic. There is also something really nice about filling the kitchen with warm bakey smells at the weekend - and as long as I immediately freeze at least half of whatever it is I've made it'll normally last the week. Sally doesn't get cake every day, that would be ridiculous, sometimes she has a banana - but quite often it is banana muffin, which she probably believes to be the best of both worlds.
(Side note, I really don't like bananas, but cooked bananas in cake with a liberal sprinkling of cinnamon are much nicer. Banana skins, and especially those that somehow manage to escape the bin and hang over the edge smelling hideous, are on the other hand, the devil, and if it ever comes to it, will probably be cited as the irreconsilable difference on my divorce papers. Whilst I could entirely happily never buy a banana ever, the rest of my family, Cleo not included, all seem to think that they're lovely, so they get bought. Whilst I will bake with bananas, the day I wrap them in ham and cook them in a cheese sauce will the day the men in white coats arrive!)
Since the arrival of Cleo - who has incidentally decided that sleeping for more than an hour and forty-five minutes is for other people's mothers since I last posted - rather than give up cooking and baking as something that other people have the luxury of time to do, I've clung on to the wooden spoon. I think it's that it's a domestic task that I get to choose to do - laundry, tidying, washing up, more laundry, cooking, cleaning the kitchen - again, all have to be done. Half an hour snatched to bake something still feels like you've done something productive, but no one expected you to, so it's fun.
There is also the fact that despite being almost comically healthy in terms of cravings whilst I was pregnant - I really just wanted food with a high water content, so raw carrots, cucumber, peppers and fruit - since I've had the baby all I want is cake and biscuits and chocolate. Basically breastfeeding and lack of sleep make me crave sugar.
As mentioned this peaceful looking little darling has not been sleeping much for the last couple of days and this is the first time she has slept or even allowed me to put her down all day. Pip was also up super early this morning so husband is looking slightly worse for wear too. So, whilst he was out with Sally this afternoon and Pip was having some post nap Paw Patrol I made his favourite ginger biscuits.
They might actually be the quickest biscuits I've made ever. It went something like this:
Melt 50g each of butter, sugar (Demerara & golden caster, or light brown if you have it!) and golden syrup together in a saucepan whilst the oven heats up (180 degrees), add a teaspoon of ground ginger (next time I think I'll put in a little more), 115g flour and a heaped teaspoon of bicarb, mix it all together then make little balls of it to put on your baking tray and bake for all of about 8 minutes. I had to hide the plate as Pip interrupted me as I was taking the second tray out - apparently Paw Patrol was 'too scary' - and then he spied the biscuits and kept coming back to see if he could cadge 'just one more'.
Including the time in the oven, I think these took less than 20 minutes to make. Twenty minutes that feels like it's gone a long way to rescue a day that has mainly featured a baby that's wanted to feed every half an hour and screams when she's put down. Whilst I think we've been doing pretty well at holding everything together with two kids and a new baby, I'm definitely starting to feel like my butt is being kicked by it all. My pram being broken makes me want to cry every time I think about it and it took every ounce of self control not to straight up scream at Sally when I found that her and Pip had emptied every one of their toys and ALL their books into a giant pile on her bed this morning. The toys I don't really care about, but the books... I need to take a deep breath again just thinking about it! In all, I think the sugar is pretty well deserved at the moment, and I'm sure it tastes better than than biscuits I could've bought at the shop.
Oh, and I gave Cleo a bath - she looks so very cute when she's confused about why I've stolen all her clothes.
