ESPRESSO MINI CAKES

No adjective can describe the past four years more accurately than 'tiring', and still it isn't over just yet; so for the couple weeks to come (and for the roads left in both of our shoes): cakey coffee muffins, and I'll sleep when I'm dead.

SPECULOOS & ALMOND TABBOULEH

If I said I was expecting to get back to Bad City after my first session of extraordinary adventures with a master plan of some kind, I would be lying; and just as unsurprisingly my head is now sailing its way through a pretty lake of a million very volatile non-master plans, and the heel angle of this boat it is on doesn’t look safe one bit, and I wouldn’t stop shivering with terror if I tried; and in this sort of trans-boundary waters of being, here goes me splashing around a little (what else can you do), and fishing out this memory of colourful bowls of bulgur and spices, for me and my daddy under the fair African sky, then mixing it with picnics on top of a sunny hill in a land of shiny rivers or streams or creeks or heaven knows, then folding in some sweetness, with sticky dates from Middle Eastern stores right in the heart of South London, and Mexican vanilla, via Canada, and delicious Belgian biscuits and a sprinkle of toasted almonds from, now I know, a Beautiful Country. And as with most crazy things, the boat heels and heels and it will either tip over or get you to the shore safe and sound before dark; and with this one, I think I’ve passed my nautical test a hundred percent: ahoy sweet biscuity tabbouleh.

MATRIMONIAL CAKE - CANADIAN DATE SQUARES

My return to Bad City left me with some serious time-and-space-perception issues, a heavy suitcase to carry without someone's help and this feeling of my brain being all wrapped up in cotton, like the one you find inside Canadian pill bottles (and it might in fact be there for the same exact reason that is, Google and common sense enlighten me, preventing breakage).
In the twilight of my return (the afterglow of sunset, or the first dim light of the morning, I wouldn't know. I am having breakfast for lunch, dinner and actual breakfast until I work out which is which), what I came back to find is that, be it in Bad City or by the breath-taking cliffs of the Pacific coast or along the sunniest Victoria bay or looking out the hotel window with the best Lost-in-Translation view of Vancouver, the heaviest thing you can possibly carry around in your suitcase is your mind.
What I also found, is that friendly drooly hairy cuddly mastiffs and marzipan tea and gallons and gallons of vanilla extract (like bringing back a litre of maple syrup doesn't also make me cry with joy) and Mickey Mouse plasters and Oreo crumbs and pumpkin-shaped candles and lovely lovely people who feed you oatmeal (and hug you), and hanging out by Police Museums and mortuaries and tiny art galleries on your birthday and drinking Shirley Temples at grown-up bars and vegan cupcakes and vegan cinnamon rolls (one too many) and vegan chocolate marshmallow pies and vegan Sailor Jerry Coke floats at Twin Peaks themed pubs and vegan everything and cream soda and root beer and Chinese gardens and red bean bubble tea and sushi at nutcase Japanese restaurants and being suspicious towards brown shoes and hated on by the raw vegans and searched by airport security for transporting life-size Mexican skulls in your hand bag; all this, and in fact more, makes it painless enough to carry all that weight down the escalators and on the tube for ages and finally all the way up two flights of stairs back home.
If at that point you also realise that your heart (and your brand new uber-cool hand-crafted birthday bag) doesn't feel all that heavy after all, head out again - you can be the bearer of gifts and snus and hang out at the Persian cafe and have your dates (I see a pattern there).
Now, we are soon to find out whether there will be any photographic evidence of all the aforementioned beauty I've seen (an excessive amount of tears has been shed already, not to worry) and it looks like there's not going to be any wedding taking place any time soon, soz for the ironic and/or misleading recipe theme. But you will still be all ready to make your own version of Matrimonial Cake, because it's mind-liftingly and heart-liftingly and suitcase-liftingly delicious like very few other things on this planet.
To celebrate Canada, and my success in carrying my heavy suitcase all the way there and back.

BLACK BEAN CHOCOLATE CAKE

A cake for that one time I stopped drawing because I was filling paper with weird shapes and not trees and the sun and the birds; for the novel I wrote when I was eight; for the most terrible nightmares of snakes and monsters (and for waking up from them on command); for the curliest hair; for not listening to my mum; for having thought for half a second that someone who undervalues invisibility could be a better version of me; a cake for master plans and for not having one; for making someone coffee without a reason, for things that happen in due course, for illusions, robots, badgers, business cards, birthday cards, ellipses.

A cake for James and me.

APPLE & BLACKBERRY CRUMBLE

When weeks are dangerously dull you need reminders of nice things that happen around you, namely

- cheap kids’ clothes

- bones from the 15^th century dug up at the back of your office

- gathering around said bones and staring at them in excitement for long periods of time

- sugar thermometers

- crumble.

As much as I’d like to share the first four items of the list with everyone, you probably have normal-size physiques and you don’t therefore fit into tops for fourteen-year-olds; the bones have sadly been moved for someone else’s eyes and excitement; and my new sugar thermometer has now become my most treasured possession joint winners with my blender, so back off.

I am however nice enough to contribute to the niceness of your week with the below recipe for the nicest crumble. There’s fresh summery fruit in it and a crunchy crumbly topping with oats and things plus a date caramel layer that makes everything so delicious and sweet and sweet things are the best and they improve the quality of your week (life?) a billion percent.

We can’t really complain after all.

BANANA ICE CREAM WITH DATE CARAMEL

Bananas and dates are the best combination ever. Fact. And as we're having a bit of an Indian summer here in London at the moment, I thought I'd go down the ice cream route with them this time. Mate (!), this is the most painless dessert to make ever. So good. And it's even good for you as it's literally just bananas and dates. And a blender <3. Hooray. 

RAW JAMMIE DODGERS

I'm quite sure vegans all over the UK are forever thankful to Burton's for making (accidentally?) vegan Jammie Dodgers. Several parties and social situations must have been saved from wreckage by that one packet of Jammie Dodgers that lies unattended amongst trays of cheese and shortbread or whatever it is that people eat at parties here. How would I know. Anyway now I'm bringing Jammie Dodgers to the next level. These are vegan but also raw and gluten free and there's no possible excuse not to eat them. Unless you're like allergic to deliciousness. In which case, it may be worth the pain. Let me know.

DATE CARAMEL BANANA SANDWICH CAKE

I’m very thankful to Mother Nature for providing mankind with two of the best things in the world, joint winners with hair straighteners – dates and bananas. Not only do they taste diiiilicious as they are, you can also turn them into whatever the hell you want, from syrup to cakey things to egg substitutes to healthy caramel to generic baking usefulness (!), and all you need, if anything, is a (beloved) blender. High five Mother Nature! The following is a banana and date feast, in the form of a vegan banana cake with date caramel filling. It tastes good, it’s moist and sweet, it could be worse for you, and it looks proper, doesn’t it. Sponsored by Mother Nature.

RAW BLUEBERRY TARTLETS

After making the prettiest cake ever, I found myself overloaded with blueberries. This was because my plan B after miserably failing at acquiring edible flowers (Turnips @ Borough Market, I forgive but not forget. Or maybe not even forgive), which you could also call “running around M&S during my lunch break, desperately looking for a pretty-enough alternative to edible flowers to use on a cake I am meant to make in less than 3 hours”, was decorating with more blueberries and other berries. Luckily, boyfriends saved the day and a plan B was never needed, so I was quite ridiculously happy to have not only a successful cake but also a lifetime supply of tasty berries. Some of them had already been shovelled into my mouth and digested and everything, the rest feature in these delicious vegan, raw and gluten-free tartlets that, just so you know, have been partly shovelled into my mouth too and are in the process of being digested. Too much information? Omonomnomnom