MARZIPAN TEA BISCUITS

One dark, sad evening, in a little flat in a dear green place at the edges of Bad City, a pretty white mug shatters into a hundred pieces, and waves goodbye to this world never to be seen again. And from the back of a cupboard in the tiny kitchen of this little flat, behind glasses and pots and second-hand china, another mug, long forgotten, is brought back to light. This big colourful mug is painted with images of a place that is half a world away in space and time too; but memories of this remote island all of a sudden find their way to you on a shaky seaplane; and it is some sunny, placid memories of car rides along a promenade and there’s tall tall trees; and people smile at you and feed you nuts and chocolate, and take you to a house of leaves where you find jars and jars of toffee and vanilla and sweet marzipan tea.

Whenever I hear that everything happens for a reason, I secretly cringe with disdain; as there can’t possibly be a recommended daily intake of misfortune, never mind having a good 5-a-day of it; however, I must admit, catastrophes may cater for stories; and in this specific case, catastrophes do cater for very nice biscuits.

In loving memory of my white mug – July 2015-11^th March 2016

LEMON & CHAMOMILE CAKE

So this is the new year and in new years people have resolutions; and if people with resolutions had a baking blog they would write about them there, in something that I believe would be titled - '2016 - An Introduction', and it would be something very pragmatic and possibly involving detox diets or buying a house or life rebuilding, or something.
I will blame my lack of vitamin B(1)2 that, Wikipedia informs me, caters for paleness and neurological issues, and having watched one Rob Zombie film too many over the holidays, and chocolate overdoses, and being not invisible for once, or twice, and hamster cheeks; but I'm afraid I have no resolution. What I do have, is a recipe for a lemon & chamomile cake that is as oh so pretty & oh so nice as a hairdresser named Manuel from a posh town in Northern Italy; bless his heart; as well as this worrying feeling at the back of my head that this year is going to be an absolute duckin' mess just like its younger brother, and in fact all its siblings; but did I mention I have a recipe for cake; and that means that I may or may not be willing to spend a stupid amount of euros on a toothbrush or mindlessly start humming a song that goes, if a body catch a body comin' through the Rye If a body kiss a body, need a body cry on my way back to the Orphanage and book flights to actual Iceland this time and even glimpse several different futures ahead, in the distance, or find myself looking up and hoping for the best; because did I mention, lemon chamomile cake. I think I did, therefore, hi 2016, and Happy New Year everyone; everything will be fine.

PEACH TEA COOKIES

When your loud mind is kept quiet by late night cab rides and origami in toilets and voices and friendly smiles, it does seem like the sky has opened up for a moment, and a light hits the skyscrapers and the rooftops and your skin and the City looks all pretty and shiny below your feet. But when midnight comes again and reality falls right onto your head from four metres high, the only companion you’re left with is a face so tired and puffy that you could cause criminal offence by the way you look; along with a concerning amount of broken things to fix. It’s only then that you finally realise you’ve got to take your usual crammed bus home and hang your head in shame, have porridge for dinner and employ what’s left of your strength to dig out that recipe you came up with during that part of your life when you were crossing paths with a part-time cookie monster and full-time ally. And even though there’s a high chance of your face being painful to look at for quite some time still, sitting together eating tinned fruit salad and sipping Turkish bottled water and munching peach tea cookies makes you feel like things are a little bit less broken already.

CHAMOMILE TEA COOKIES

Don’t be fooled by the simple appearance of these cookies. They are sweet, soft, with a chewy middle and soo flavoursome. It’s the first recipe I try from Chickpea Magazine and I have to say I was super impressed with it. It’s very original (I’d never even heard of chamomile cookies before) and I’ve made it so many times already. Totally a personal favourite (sorry chocolate chip cookies). Needless to say I’ll be trying out more recipes from the magazine, there’s all sorts in there to make your tummy happy! So if you’re a big fan of chamomile tea (I’d be married to tea if it was legal), or if you fancy trying something different, go for it and make these. A cup of tea or coffee on the side, and happy days for all.