Feeling a bit peckish during London 2012 Games?
Here is a book of ordinary treats, most of which you have not made or eaten. By ordinary I mean simple, not fancy, elaborate or exotic. They survive out of stubborn goodness.
The oldest goes back over seven hundred years. If you remember Banbury Cross, here are the old English small cakes, formed around a centre of dried fruit and candied peel. Mr. Day calls for Demrara sugar. He does not imagine the wider audience he has abroad in America and elsewhere that does not know what this sugar is. Demara is a naturally brown sugar, not coloured by the molasses that doctors the stuff labeled brown sugar in the supermarket. This distinction is important because the artificial brown has a low burn point. Not good. So if you cannot find a true Demara, such as Billington's here on Amazon, at least buy a true turbinado from Hawii. Next, he calls for Apple Pie Spice. Again, he assumes you grew up in Chipping Camden in Gloucestershire so that you know this always means cinnamon, allspice and green or white cardamom in the ratio of 4:1:1. Anything else would be, um, not English. These gaffes and some others, are why I deducted one star from a book of otherwise flawless, if eccentric, recipes. And I take nothing away from Mr. Day. The publishers, Ryland, Peters & Small have a New York Office. Edit the bleeding book for us colonials, like good lads, would you?
Besides small cakes, which are perfect for high tea, are family cakes, perfect for taking to a nice one. Scottish Dundee cake, or something close to it (maybe better) is a standout, as is one with caraway seed. I have never seen cake recipes call for salt butter. And the former calls for all-purpose flour, the latter for self-rising, neither of which I normally use for cakes; but they work fine. Nota bene, these both call for caster sugar. In America, this means superfine or bakers' sugar. I am happy to see the use of parchment to line the baking pans. Much better than fooling with grease and/or flour, which alter the edges and bottom, often with white blotches.
Learn to make candied citrus slices. Here we go again. Mr. Day calls for liquid glucose. Editor, knock-knock, is anybody in there? Please note for all to see that we do not use liquid glucose in America; we use corn syrup. So do not shy from making St. Clement's Cakes. And you can get Panettone cases on Amazon, if you are in for a hundred (not expensive). If you must, you can find a kilo of glucose, imported from France, here as well. I use both and there isn't ha'penny's worth of difference.
Mr. Day even has a Wheat-free (gluten free) fruit cake. This time you need muscovado sugar, which is neither from Russia, nor comes from a duck. Get the real stuff because, as sugars go, it is the most nutritious and the tastiest. You shall also require glace cherries, which are a snap if you happen to be in Aquitaine. Here, you mostly see those gastly incandescent red or green candied sheep dung. Horrible. Get yourself some Luxardo cherries. There are on Amazon, or at your better liquor store that stocks them for the true Manhattan Cocktail aficionado.
Another section has brownies and bars. You will need sheets, deep and shallow. The next is for cookies and biscuits. You can do the Hokey Pokey if you get a tin of Lyle's Golden Syrup (or just make some) for these New Zealand biscuits that are otherwise super easy. Or Amaretti biscuits give you an excuse to play the piping bag, pushing out these little almond wonders, crunchy on the outside, chewy inside.
How about hot, spicy ginger biscuits? It comes with the bicarb of soda already in it. The trick is getting stem ginger, not tuber ginger. Opies has the genuine article here; Sheriff Taylor (RIP) never had none o' these.
Unaccountably, there are a dozen nice additions from the continent. Perhaps because Mr. Day's predecessor was Strine, and something of a PR whiz herself. They are her recipes, originally made with her mother on that Fatal Shore. Make some Mini Megs in her memory (which I am sure was her little joke on Mons Meg) all blue and raspberry studded. The loaves and breads are mostly without yeast, save stolen. Tintinnabulous Tarts ring the finale.
These recipes are thoroughly tested; I had nothing but superior to woozy-kneed results. Best of all, this is an apt excuse to goose-up your baking arsenal. Start with a six or seven inch round pan and fling a few to the hungry hoard. Then tell them what could do if only you had the others, especially the fluted loose base tart rounds. One of those and then you can score that pricy enamel over cast iron, flameproof Tart Tatin. Go for the Gold.
