Everyone loves a spot of baking, especially when the result is a nice bit of cake to enjoy with your cuppa of an afternoon. I loved making cakes when I was younger, every week without fail I would go to my auntie's house (who loved to spoil me rotten), she would make the mixture and I would lick the spoons. However, since I've gotten older and realised just how much washing up is involved my laziness has taken over and baking hasn't been something that I've partaken in regularly.
But, yesterday evening I decided it was time to embrace my inner domestic goddess and give this baking malarkey a spin once again. It started off with a trip to Tesco, shopping list in hand and mother in tow, in order to pick up all the bits and pieces. I'm not going to lie, I got very distracted by the cake decorations and ended up spending an absurd amount on edible silver balls and pink glitter, because obviously this was a priority.
I'm not used to being laden down with shopping bags filled with icing sugar and flour, it's certainly a far cry from the usual contents of Topshop and H&M. Anyway, I soon got into the swing of things. Well I say this but actually it was my auntie that measured everything out and whisked it all together, apparently I was not trusted to get this right and we wouldn't want collapsed cakes now, would we.
Once the technical bit was done and dusted, all bowls licked clean and cakes rising nicely in the oven it was time to get started on the fun part - making (and eating) the butter cream icing. Here I was finally allowed to experiment and revert back to my five-year-old self. Food colouring was chosen in pastel shades of yellow, blue, pink and purple along with decoration to fit in with each colour scheme, these ranged from wafer daises to tiny snowflakes and edible pearls. I was certainly in my element, never had a piping bag and icing sugar created so much excitement.
I have to say, I was proud of the result. Never have I seen myself as a perfectionist, but this spot of baking kicked off some serious OCD. I actually found myself using a pair of surgical tweezers to place tiny silver balls symmetrically in place, for god's sake.
Here's the result:
Just call me Nigella!