Sunday, January 17, 2010

I use margarine

"It says margarine! I am not using margarine. Where is the margarine? In its own special corner marked 'margarine' under the sign that says 'Margarine'? I am not going there. It is a bad bad place. Can I use butter? No! I cannot use butter. Marguerite Patten says I must use margarine. Margarine is disgusting. Is it worse than lard or suet? Are lard and suet the same thing? Can't I use butter?"

Yes, I must use margarine, and I am not talking to myself but to my 'husband' who is in the shop with me pushing the trolley (small) and saying, "what do you MEAN, Frankfurters in a tin? Where would they BE?", like I have told him that chickens hibernate. It is endless, the margarine chat spurting out of my mouth; I am horrified by margarine for many reasons, not least that it contains unpredictable amounts of water and that, my friends, is a disaster for baking.

"Baking what?!" I hear you cry, your tiny simple little faces alive with expectation. "Why, Marguerite Patten's Valentine Cake, of course!", I reply kindly, pulling on my pipe and thrusting my hand into a packet of crisps.

"A picture speaks a thousand words", they say. The picture that I am about to show you of what happened in my kitchen earlier today does not speak a thousand words, it speaks two: 'vomit' and 'confection'.





































I have little to say in my defence, leaving instead the final word to the pathologist via the means of a new feature (introduced tonight) in which I do an exact transcript of his reactions to the things I cook as he eats them. You will like it, I think! Here goes:

"Did you do it exactly like the recipe?  For once it won’t be a big drama to throw it in the bin. The white bit’s alright. It’s the first time I ever said no to cake without any regrets. Man. What the hell is that? I mean you just made it and it tastes like it was made 3 weeks ago and left on the counter.  So you did this one verbatim? Well you know. People were made of tougher fibre in those days. Maybe eating cake was a sort of character building experience.  I thought it was going to be a delicious mocha cake, but no. I’m curious about that flesh colour, though."

Coming tomorrow: 12 Danish open sandwiches, each one accompanied by a 'live review' from the pathologist. You should be made aware that pineapple rings, pork and glacé cherries make an appearance. On the same sandwich.

18 comments:

Tracy Lynn said...

The picture is appalling. I cannot imagine actually having to put that in my mouth. Gah.

NON-WORKINGMONKEY said...

Do not try. It was revolting.

Anonymous said...

Oh, the white frosting, it has made little whiteheads if you look too closely. Oh dear. And what is the cake? It looks very dry. Were there breadcrumbs involved?

Can't wait for tomorrow. I've had Danish sandwiches a time or two, there are all kinds of combinations, but (so far) none involving candied fruit. Goes better with pork than with herring, I suppose.

Barbara

tea and cake said...

I just had not pictured you owning a lace doily, and am impressed with the necklace thingy.
Cake? eyuk.

Katy Newton said...

I need to know exactly how the colour of the icing happened. No seriously I really do. Is that margarine icing? Is it? Is it, monkey? But is it?

Lola said...

I cannot imagine how anyone could fail to be moved by the obvious love and care you have put into the construction of this St Valentine's 'love cake'. Even if it looks like it has melted, horribly. It is a token of your monkey love.

To state the bleedin' obvious: I think you got the consistency of the icing a bit wrong, though. Blame it on the margarine.

Mrs Jones said...

Hmmm, all my cakes seem to come out like that (but well done for having a go!). Some folks just can't do baking and I'm one of them, but I can do a mean main course....

mondraussie said...

"it's the first time i've said no to cake without regrets" LOL... yes, you get points for the doily, but the flesh coloured icing is a little off-putting... to say the least... i'm with Lola, blame it on the margarine :)

eagerly awaiting the sandwiches, although i see from your twitter feed that they made you feel a little "restless"... is that restless in the "i think i need to go and spend some quality time talking on the big white telephone to god" sense?

NON-WORKINGMONKEY said...

The cake = astonishing. You make the cake, ice the edges (with disgusting slop made out of margarine and icing sugar which will not set or 'hold' at all, it being not margarine from the late 60s made out of chemicals but some sort of pretend health product), then roll it in crushed biscuits or nuts.

Then you make a second icing, ,this time out of icing sugar and orange juice, to which you add orange colouring. Except I didn't have any orange colouring, so made it out of red and yellow.

Except I couldn't be bothered to do it properly because I already knew (having cut the heart shape out of a round cake and tried the offcuts) that it was going to be disgusting. One fatal error: being so bored of it that i put the main (juice and sugar) icing on it when it wasn't entirely cold, hence leakage. The zit-dots were, however, entirely the margarine's fault, having been put on once the cake WAS cold.

As to the doily - do not insult me. It is not mine. It is the pathologist's. which I think might be worse.

Pip pip!

Katy Newton said...

It honestly, honestly doesn't look like it could possibly taste of anything but salmon. I'm sorry but that is the truth.

Mrs.B said...

Ha ha ha ha ha ha. Oh Monkey that has made my day. That cake has the lowest self-esteem of any baked good I have ever clapped eyes on.
More !!!!

Baron d'Ormesan said...

That is an impressively disgusting-looking cake. Are you sure that you didn't cheat on the icing and just pour on a jar of Marie Rose sauce instead?

And did you find margarine that was unashamed to be called margarine? I was looking for some over the weekend for a childhood recipe and it seems now to be called low-fat vegetable oil spread. Bring back the 60s chemicals I say.

NON-WORKINGMONKEY said...

I think the Marie-Rose sauce would have tasted better, or indeed the special pink sauce my grandmother used to make to go with baked ham that involved (amongst other things) mayonnaise and tomato ketchup.

And yes, I did. A block that said "Margarine" on it and that looked suitably old-fashioned (and hard). My own fault for chosing fancy schmancy 'spreads', you see. Still, I do not want to put icing sugar mixed with margarine (of whatever type) in my gob.

Katy, it tasted of salmon, sawdust and despair.

LutraLutra said...

Sweet, sweet, mother of heck. I comment on the tasty Danish Open Sandwiches, then scroll down and see that *thing* staring at me, all melty and vom looking. Look at it! It’s even creeping its way over the edge of the plate. Burn it! NOW!

Megan said...

I do think there is a slight possibility that posting the responses of the pathologist might, just might, result in the invention of a new religious cult. I'm not sure if I point it out to avoid such an event or because I totally want to bony the role of 'High Priest/Ess and Grand Temple Master of Margerine and Icing Sugar.

Léonie said...

If I were the sort of boundless cock jockey who said things like LOL, I would be saying it now.

Katy Newton said...

I take my hat off to your cake, though, seriously, because I have been up (for no reason) since before 6am on a Saturday, in a week where I've had about 4-6 hours sleep every night, and it still immediately got a laugh out of me. Imagine if you were at someone's house for dinner and they gave you a slice of that. What would you do? I think you'd have to set fire to the tablecloth and disappear in the confusion.

NON-WORKINGMONKEY said...

Can't lie, it is genius isn't it. We stared at it for quite a long time.

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