(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
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.
An artfully positioned plastic bowl saves Bert’s modesty.
Bert is many things – exuberant, showy, funny, caring, dramatic, brimming with relish, nerding out over the small details of functional vehicles, stubborn, determined, ridiculous, inhabiting a book so completely he has to act it out, a bizarre but brilliant dancer, all or nothing, the calm or the storm.
But one thing he is not is cool.
Feeds us for a couple of weeks
2 tablespoons of sunflower oil
125ml maple syrup
2 tablespoons honey
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
300g rolled oats
100g mixed seeds
50g dedicated coconut
Heat the oven to gas mark 2 (150 degrees) and line a baking sheet with baking parchment.
Mix the oil, syrup, honey, vanilla, oats and seeds together and spread the mixture out evenly on the baking sheet. Bake for 15 minutes then add the coconut and dried fruit and bake for another 15.
When it’s cool, tip it into an airtight container, breaking it up into small pieces as you go.
I didn’t get a picture of Bert refusing to eat this, so here’s a gratuitous one of him having a cuddle with his big brother. The dark shadow sitting at his feet isn’t the ghost that foreshadows some far-off, horrible doom, it’s Ray.
1/2 cup porridge oats
2 cups milk
1 apple, grated
1/2 a cup of raisins
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
Dessert spoon of maple syrup
Sprinkling of brown sugar
The night before, put the oats and milk in a pan and pop it in the fridge. It will seem like far too much milk. The next morning warm it gently with the apple, raisins, cinnamon and maple syrup till it’s smooth and creamy (you get a much creamier, softer consistency by leaving it overnight and it cooks more quickly too). Sprinkle on a little brown sugar and offer to a toddler who writhes away from it like it’s poison.
If you’re in that precise frame of mind that combines a delight in violence with the enjoyment of repetitive tasks, I highly recommend you cook this. Luckily I’m in that frame of mind most of the time.
I had some diced pork in and thought I’d make tiny pork schnitzels, the size of chicken nuggets. Insane? Maybe.
I experimented with an oatcake crumb coating too, since we seem to eat so much white flour.
About 150g of diced pork – I’m on a 5/2 day (too much toddler group cake) so I didn’t make much for myself
4 oatcakes, blitzed to a fine crumb
Zest of half a lemon, finely grated
Teaspoon of dried sage
Bash each piece of pork with a rolling pin till it’s thin, then tip the lot into a bowl and cover with whole milk. Leave to further tenderize for an hour or two. Combine the crumbs, lemon zest and sage.
Take the pork out of the milk and coat in the crumb mixture. Lay on a baking tray and bake in a hot oven for 20 minutes, turning over halfway through.
We had ours with home made oven chips and green veg. Serve with redcurrent jelly for Austrian authenticity.
125g brown sugar
250g rolled oats
100g dried fruit – we had raisins and dates
30g mixed seeds
Melt the sugar, butter and honey together. Stir the dry ingredients together wildly so that the mixture is catapulted across the table, carpet and chairs. Add the melted ingredients and combine, flicking globules of warm mixture across the room and cackling madly. Press into a 20 x 25cm or so tin, bashing one small area like a drum until it is extremely flat but ignoring the rest. Cook at 180 degrees or on the grid shelf on the bottom of the Aga roasting oven with the cold shelf two shelves above, for 20-25 minutes. Put the bowl on your head and lick it from the inside. Dance on a chair while your mother tries to sweep the flapjack mixture up around you.
Cut into pieces in the tin while still warm.
This isn’t my recipe, but we eat it all the time.
This lasts us a week, but I think it’s already clear that we’re very, very greedy
250g porridge oats
150g mixed seeds
100g dried fruit
1 teaspoon cinnamon
2 tablespoons of butter and 3 tablespoons of honey, melted together
Spread the oats out onto a tray and toast in the oven at 200 degrees for 10 minutes. (In the Aga, it seems to burn easily so I do it on the lowest rung for 7 minutes.) Add the seeds and toast for another 5 minutes in theory, 3 minutes in our Aga. Mix together with the fruit, spice and melted butter and honey and spread out to cool.
We have it with yoghurt and fruit. Amazed that Bert eats it, but he does. (He doesn’t yet know what a cocopop is.)