Mother’s Day marmalade cake (or a banana and oat loaf for toddlers)


(I say the banana loaf versions for toddlers – Bert’s dad’s eaten about 1/2 a loaf in the last ten minutes.)

The marmalade version’s a mother’s day present for my mum. I overheard Bert telling his dad, ‘I love Gran!’ this morning – if only I’d recorded it that it could be a mother’s day present too.

Anyway, here’s an easy to make and easy to eat cake for the person in your life who taught you how to talk, spoon food into your mouth and wee in the right places.

Makes a small loaf

150g soft butter

100g golden castor sugar

50g soft dark brown sugar

1teaspoon baking powder

150g self-raising flour

3  eggs

I heaped tablespoon marmalade (to convert to a banana loaf, use 2 large or 3 small bananas instead)

Zest of one orange (to convert to a banana loaf, use 1 teaspoon of vanilla essence instead)

115g porridge oats

150ml double cream or full fat yoghurt

Preheat the oven to 180°C or gas mark 4. Line a 2lb loaf tin (one of the smaller ones).

If you have a mixer, bung everything in and cream together till fluffy (about 5 minutes). You don’t even have to mash the bananas for the banana version first. If you don’t, then cream the butter and sugar together before adding the wet ingredients (bananas mashed in this case) and stiring the dry ingredients through.

Bake for around a hour, till the top’s cracked and firm.

 

Jammy berry, lime and coconut cake

I was in the car with Bert yesterday, went to change gear and couldn’t find it straight away. Bert laughed and laughed. ‘Your driving!’ he said, overcome with mirth. ‘You drive like this!’ And he leaned forward, scrunched his face up, held an imaginary wheel and made a screeching sound.

Today, on an empty country lane, I went round a bend slightly wide. ‘Too fast!’ he chuckled. ‘Corner too fast!’

Despite this, I made him a coconut cake for pudding. ‘You!’ Bert laughed, ‘you put cheese on cake!’ He picked the berries off, stood up, emptied the plate into the bin, put it in the dishwasher and pressed start.

Makes a 25cm square cake 

110g self raising flour

110g golden caster sugar

110g soft butter

2 eggs

Zest of 1 lime, finely grated

80g dessicated coconut

To top:

Dessert of spoon jam (we used raspberry)

Berries (we used blueberries and blackberries)

Scattering of dessicated coconut

Preheat the oven to 180/ gas mark 4.

Beat together all the cake ingredients until smooth, then tip into a lined 25cm square tin. Bake at gas mark 4/ 180 for 25-30 minutes, till golden and springy to the touch. 

Let it cool in the tin for 15 minutes then remove to a wire rack. When completely cool, thinly spread jam over the top. Stud with berries then shower with coconut (not cheese).

Mini chocolate and raspberry trifles

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Today’s a good day. I got up to find Bert sitting up in bed, reading a book about dinosaurs to his diplodocus. He greeted me with ‘oh, hi Mum!’ and a laugh. He was topless and I asked why – apparently he’d split some of last night’s milk on himself so he took his top off and put it in the dirty washing basket.

An angelic child and a round toddler belly – what could be better? Oh yes, a large cheque from HMRC reimbursing me for a mysterious overpayment of … some kind of tax. And I’m down to the last two on a project in Winchester, where one of my oldest friends lives. For now I’ll enjoy imagining the cups of tea and glasses of wine rather than worrying about the childcare.

Bring on the chocolate trifle!

Makes 3 mini trifles (one for you and two for me)

Leftover chocolate cake (I get that this is kind of a weird concept, but me and Bert have been on our own a lot recently and found our banana and chocolate loaf a bit big to get through)

3 teaspoons raspberry or cherry jam

12 raspberries (give or take)

100g ricotta (or whipped cream)

1 tablespoon golden icing sugar

1/2 Cadbury’s flake, crumbled (hmm, what to do with the other half?)

Push slices or crumbled up pieces of the cake into the bottom of three ramekins, top each with a spoon of jam and then some raspberries. Beat together the ricotta and icing sugar (or whip the cream and fold the sugar in) and spread it over the fruit. Crumble flake on top and chill before serving.

 

Storecupboard bakewell muffins

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Today, as on many days when I’m alone with Bert, we’re busy in the morning then have to fit in a dog walk after Bert’s luxuriously long lunchtime nap and before it gets dark. As a result, I bribe him into it by taking the pram and iPad, along with dummy, blanket and John.

So today at 4pm a maudlin Bert was dressed in his oversized fake fur deerstalker hat and only-just-big-enough green parka, dummy in, looking like a Russian gangster who was no less sinister for being tiny. Meet Sweet Cheeks – happy to sell you a sawn off shot gun for the right price.

Me: Look at the beautiful sunset!

Bert: [taps away at Dinosaur Trucks with very cold hands]

Me: It’s like Christmas lights in the sky!

Bert: [taps away at Dinosaur Trucks]

[Ten minutes’ silent trudging]

Me: Look, a digger.

Bert: [glances up, agrees] Yellow digger. [Back to tapping at Dinosaur Trucks]

In my pre-child fantasies there was more Boden knitwear, stamping through crisp leaves and collecting of acorns involved.

Makes 6 muffins

150g golden caster sugar

3 eggs

150g sunflower oil

150g self raising flour

100g ground almonds

100g frozen cherries, dusted in flour

Preheat the oven to gas mark 4/ 180. Beat together all of the ingredients, except the cherries, till smooth, then stir the fruit gently into the batter. The flour dusting helps stop them from sinking to the bottom of the muffins. Divide the mixture between six muffin holes, making sure there are cherries in each. Bake for about 30 minutes, till golden and risen.

Fig, orange and walnut loaf

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I’m enthusiastically looking forward to the day that Bert stops loudly announcing in public that ‘Mummy likes big ones’. He’s talking about dinosaurs, specifically my love of the Tyrannosaurus Rex genus.

That’s a soldier of bread at the front of the plate; the cake is being abused at the back.

Makes a 1kg loaf (about 20cm x 10cm x 7cm)

120ml whole milk

120g honey

40g butter

75g golden caster sugar

225 self raising flour

1/2 teaspoon all spice

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

Good grating of nutmeg

Zest of two oranges (put the zested oranges in the fridge door and throw them away 10 days later)

100g chopped walnuts (we were lucky enough to have some fresh ones from next door’s tree) (given to us, not stolen)

120g fresh figs (the fresh ones give a bit more moistness and a lovely blush pink hint of colour, but you could used dried ones instead)

1 egg

Preheat the oven to 180/ gas mark 4.

Melt the butter, honey, milk and sugar together until the milk’s just about to come to the boil. Add the flour, spices, orange zest, fruit, nuts and egg and mix gently. Tip into a greased and lined loaf tin (approx 20 x 10 x 7cm) and bake for 25 minutes before turning the tin round and baking for about another 20 minutes – till the top is springy when you press a finger into it.

In the interests of honesty I’ll admit that Bert claimed this was ‘too nice’ without even trying it. I’m looking forward to a couple of slices in the morning.

 

Courgette and lime cake with Greek yoghurt frosting

courgette cake

Shortly after this photo was taken, Bert’s dad was ‘naughty daddy’ for picking up a piece of cake Bert had dropped. Then I was ‘naughty mummy’ for putting a nappy on him and giving him his blanket before his nap. He’d only go to bed if he was put in an entirely green outfit, and was read three green books. Last night he screamed at me for not having the Peppa Pig towel to hand after his bath.

There is no Peppa Pig towel.

We’re completely terrified of him.

This is a tasty, moist cake. If you find the green speckles disturbing, you could peel the courgettes first.

For the cake:

2 eggs

170g soft butter

140g caster sugar

2 medium courgettes, grated (about 200g)

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

75g self raising flour

75g plain wholemeal flour

1 dessert spoon lime juice

1 teaspoon baking powder

For the topping and filling:

3-4 dessert spoons lime or lemon curd

4 dessert spoons Greek yoghurt

1 cup icing sugar, sifted

1 teaspoon lime juice

Beat together the eggs, sugar, courgette and butter till smooth and light, then fold in the rest of the cake ingredients. Divide between two buttered small loaf tins (mine are 15 x 9cm) and bake at 180 degrees (or the grid shelf on the bottom of the Aga roasting oven with the cool shelf two rows above) for 20-25 minutes, till golden brown and firm.

Leave to cool slightly then turn out onto a rack.

Beat the icing sugar and remaining lime juice into the Greek yoghurt and cool for at least an hour. Spread one completely cooled loaf with curd, sandwich with the other, and then spread the frosting over the top – it should dribble down the sides.

 

Banana and dark sugar ice cream

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Bert has a very strict screen time policy (which he doesn’t apply to lego apps or watching Cars) so I got no photos of the icecream being consumed. This is him loving the scene in the Lion King where the daddy lion play-wrestles with his son.

The dark sugar gives the icecream a kind of Caribbean vibe.

Serves 3

2 ripe bananas, roughly chopped

50g dark brown Demerara sugar

½ a large pot of plain, unsweetened Greek yoghurt

A dash of double cream – maybe 30 ml

Sprinkle the sugar into the bananas and mix. Put everything into an ice cream maker and churn till frozen.

The day we ate this was one of those blissful toddler days that makes you forget the ones that are full of battles and tears. We made a den, watched the Lion King for the hundredth time and ate home made ice cream.

 

Orange cake

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So winter has started in earnest, and so have the terrible twos. It’s howling inside and out. In an attempt to warm stomachs and sedate a toddler’s fury that he can’t scribble on my books while being spoon fed dinner from the comfort of a tiny red car, it’s beef stew and warm orange cake for dinner tonight.

In the picture he’s actually eating a hot cross bun as I daren’t take a phone to the table at the moment for fear I’ll end the meal by shouting ‘no bloody Peppa Pig!’ and throwing it across the room.

Makes a 21cm cake

Two large oranges, about 375g in total when pureed

6 eggs

225g golden caster sugar

250g ground almonds

A heaped teaspoon of baking powder

Cover the oranges with cold water, bring to the boil, put a lid on and simmer for 2-2.5 hours. Then remove from the water and blitz to a pulp. Weigh out 375g of it and beat with the other ingredients, cooking in a greased 21cm springform tin at 190 for an hour (or on a gridrack on the bottom of the Aga roasting oven).

We had ours warm with yoghurt or double cream.

My best apple crumble

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Here’s Bert looking weirdly spotlit as he eats it. This was taken during a two-minute lull in a long and complex game of Simon Says led, as ever, by Bert. He’s evolved the game to include facial expressions (largely mournful) and noises (largely sinister) and it’s now like something you’d pay £10 to see in the upstairs of a grubby pub in East Dulwich. Maybe it’s the way we light his chair.

Served 4

Two large cooking apples

50g butter

Two tablespoons soft brown sugar

Zest of one orange

Juice of half an orange

225g plain flour

90g golden caster sugar

115g butter

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Peel, core and slice the apples. Melt the butter and soft brown sugar together on the hob in your oven proof dish till it’s a warm, brown, bubbly sauce and then stir the apple slices through and leave to cook for five minutes or so.

Meanwhile, make your topping. If you’ve got a food mixer, just pulse together the flour, sugar, butter and cinnamon till they look like breadcrumbs. Or rub it between your finger for the same result.

Then grate your zest onto the caramelled apples, squeeze in the orange juice and pour over the crumble topping. It should cover it comfortably, like you’re burying your dad’s leg in the sand. Put it in the oven at 180 (or near the bottom of the Aga roasting oven) for about half an hour, till it’s golden and bubbling.

Strawberry, banana and maple syrup frozen yoghurt

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Served 3

1 ripe banana

200g strawberries

120ml plain yoghurt

60g golden caster sugar

1 tablespoon maple syrup

Blend the banana and strawberries then put, with all of the rest of the ingredients, into an icecream maker till frozen. I normally add a dash of double cream but I think the banana’s creamy enough.

It takes about half an hour to an hour to freeze – long enough for your toddler to take every key down from the key hooks and throw  them onto the floor, ride a miniature ride-on mower backwards in just a nappy and shout at the football on the TV.