GLUTEN-FREE RED VELVET MUG CAKE

The weather changes and you try and prepare for the rain to pour down heavy and it’s true that you didn’t have the time to even think about taking your swimsuit out before the November (!) cold and rain suddenly decided to ruin all your bathing and sunbathing plans for the summer. However you are also left with an oversized mug and a pack of gluten-free flour that made the cut when you moved your belongings one side of town to the other and a microwave. This means you can have your very own individual portion of cake that’s ready in 5 minutes and sit on the sofa dreaming about your new projector that is on its way to you, and almost get to grips with the fact that people know you or that it has to be that one Overground line to be broken this weekend or that you suffer from severe David Wilson withdrawal symptoms or that there’s a confusing amount of gas metres on this planet or again that Outlook is evil and so is the world in general, but it’s fine because after all, RED VELVET MUG CAKE.

蛋撻 - HONG KONG TARTS

Sometimes you stick to your decisions and bake some greatly anticipated Hong Kong egg(less) tarts for KT's Cake Wednesday at the office; but some other times you change your mind or allow yourself to make exceptions or apply for train ticket refunds or cancel plans or abort missions or all of the above.

Either way, risks may or may not include the loudest fire alarms going off for ten long minutes and getting kicked out of your flat on your third day there, your baked goods tasting alright, not owning a laptop charger ever again, throwing a great amount of pounds sterling down the drain, black eyes, drama and general hatred, not being invited for dinner and no chance in the universe of un-rendering what you have decided to render.

But when life is too short for Nescafe (although it's never too short to make your own pastry), what you have to do is assemble all your troops, get hold of the biggest Moka pot you can find and have a bite of risk on toast for breakfast. 
All in due course, that is.

ORANGE & CINNAMON ICE CREAM

Orange and cinnamon is a big thing in Morocco.

In the past three days I packed three years of my life, put them onto the biggest van, took them up two flights of stairs (someone helped me), and even found some spare time to make friends with foxes.

I am currently in the seemingly never ending process of unpacking said belongings and I would kind of need another holiday in Morocco after that, together with a whole plantation of oranges sprinkled with cinnamon to recover my energy.

But just in case that doesn’t happen and I find myself at Ikea instead or running around looking for Blu Tack or recycling bags or my sanity, or at The Park, here’s some Moroccan inspired vegan orange and cinnamon ice cream. I heard it’s best served by the swimming pool.

RASPBERRY LIME DRIZZLE CAKE

The extremely engaging tale behind this week’s cake that I’m very unsurprisingly writing whilst falling asleep on my keyboard begins when you find yourself signing a lease for a flat an impressive amount of Overground stops away from where you’ve spent over seven hundred and thirty days of your existence.

Now it so happens that my occupation in the past couple of months has switched from that of full-time hermit to head of the wild puppy and trouble making department, which implies spending Saturday mornings staring at the empty space at local cafes that go under the name of Healthy Stuff, and filling yourself spherical with the aforementioned healthy stuff in an attempt to readjust brain functionality levels and regain a human appearance (and arguably sometimes failing).

Moving the other side of London sadly leaves me healthy stuff-less, and the vegan berry lime drizzle cake that has multiple times saved me from irreversibly turning into a zombie will be greatly missed.

So here’s my own version of it, if there’ll ever be a Saturday-morning-after-the-Friday-night when I’ll wake up all emotional for having run away from North East London; but also to salute the coolest little flat in the coolest former Victorian orphanage and a microwave and a sofa and three (three!) windows, and don’t hate you all, a heated Olympic-size swimming pool in the back garden, and a part of town that looks like an even better version of my dear Bushwick, just with the added bonus of an arcade bar and a much higher quantity per capita of plantain sellers; and to officially say, good night Dalston & good morning Peckham.

BLUEBERRY & CARDAMOM MUFFINS

A bit of blue like the painted wooden doors and tiled floors in Essaouira last week; like my dress and the boats and the sea; then the same subtle scent of spice as the tea we drank sitting in the Persian café on Peckham High Street before I left.

And if the above counts as dwelling on the past again (someone did tell me once that I do that a lot), then let these sweet summery muffins also speak of the blue of the water in swimming pools in back gardens, and of river valleys in far away places I want to visit; and of every cup of cardamom tea we will drink, at the café or our desk or my old flat or the new one or yours that I’ve yet to see; and of more new colours and more new smells and of new beginnings.