Bier, Bundt und Butter

Fanny is decidedly determined to include a Deutchsland cake in her Christmas tea-time treats, in honour of Prince Albert, consort to Queen Victoria. Fanny says this is only right as 'they', being the Royals, the Germans, the Saxe Coburgs, 'brought Christmas to our Island' and without them we would have very different Christmas traditions. The Christmas Beer Cake, or Bierkuche, doesn't seem to have become a firm favourite for Brits, but we do seem to have adopted the entire month of Oktober to celebrate German ales so perhaps it is appropriate after all? It's another cake, or perhaps a sweet bread - she can't decide - which Fanny says improves with age, and yet again one which will have your waistline twitching in preparation for the winter ahead. Fanny insists its made in a ring shaped tin, for Germanic tradition presumably and not as an homage to Prince Alberts most famous piece of jewellery? Anything is possible with Fanny though, and she may have her tongue tucked firmly in her cheek with this one.

The flavours are full-on festive, packed with spice - cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves - all mixed in with a deep, dark German Ale. I'm using Erdinger Dunkel simply because I like it, but Fanny recommends using 'any old ale'. She mixes up her measurements for this one, using oz's for flour and butter and the more American-preferred 'cups' for the Black Treacle and Raisins. I'm working on the conversion of 1 cup to be 8 oz, so let's keep our fingers crossed! Fanny from time to time in other recipes specifies teacups, or breakfast cups, but for this one it's just 'cups'. 

This cake, or sweet bread, starts with the beer being gently heated with some butter and Black Treacle, quite a lot of treacle, until the butter melts. Off the heat, it's time to add the raisins and leave it to cool down to 'blood temperature' for all that lovely stuff to fatten up the fruit. Meanwhile the self-raising flour (remember Fanny never uses anything else!) is sifted with an incredible three teaspoons of baking powder, some salt and the spices. There are no eggs in this cake/bread at all, so presumably all that baking powder is required to lift it?

Fanny insists I butter and flour my Bundt in preparation of the mix. I tend not to use my Bundt tin all that much for fear of the cake getting stuck, but Fanny hasn't let me down so far. The chubby and now blood temperature raisin, beer, butter and treacle mix is folded into the sifted flour and spices with some chopped walnuts before transferring to the floured tin. No looking back. All that baking powder is making it rise up even before it goes into the oven. It bakes for a whopping 50 minutes, but does turn out fantastically well! Phew! The finished cake/bread or whatever it is tastes so wintery. Fanny says there is nothing else to do for the cold season than to cut yourself a huge fat wedge, slap some butter thickly on it, pour yourself a hearty foaming beer, sit back and put weight on. Who am I to disagree with Fanny? Winter waistline here I come - prost! 

I've entered this blogpost into #CookBlogShare hosted by the very lovely Lucy over at SuperGoldenBakes

Gingerly hurtling towards Christmas

Fanny thinks that our houses should be filled with an array of tea-time treats all throughout the winter, as we are always sure to be hungry. What could be worse than a steady stream of hungry folk popping in to visit and not only the cupboards being bare, but every tin too... Worst still, imagine no-one comes round and you've got nothing to eat all by yourself to cheer you up. Just saying. Either way, it's time to get baking now just incase, and Fanny has some tea-time treats that will keep for a while, just as long as you store them properly. Actually her Gingerbread will actually improve if tucked away for a time.

With a slight chill in the air, the thought of warming ginger and snuggly treacle seems like the perfect thing. Fanny makes her Gingerbread with 'pure lard' incase we have to hibernate for several months our arteries will remain intact, but for me it's what I hope is a suitable vegetarian alternative, Trex. I've no idea if it will work the same in a cake, it's great in pastry though! 

Fanny sets about preparing the gingerbread by gently heating the 'lard' and the treacle. Or the lard then the treacle, she really can't decide. This is one of those recipes, despite being tested time and time again in her very own kitchen to ensure perfection, that says both things. 'Place the lard and the treacle in a small pan over a very low heat' and 'when the lard is melted, beat thoroughly with the warm treacle'. Not being too sure which is best, I first mix some soft brown sugar with an egg, I can't go wrong there, can I?

There is clearly no time for dithering, there may just be a knock at the door at any moment, and a barrage of hungry folk will be blustering their way into my living room expecting to open my tins and be fed. Maybe. I go with option one, melting the 'lard' with the treacle, then giving it a little beat just because I'm really still not sure. Easier to fathom, I sift some flour with a few spoons of gorgeous ground ginger and sprinkle some bicarbonate of soda in a couple of tablespoons of milk. In goes the sugar and egg mix. In goes the melted 'Trex and Treacle'. In goes the gently bubbling milk. And mix. 

It all comes together quickly into a slightly sweaty looking concoction, slipping around the bowl like it's having way too much fun. That'll be the lardy Trex I guess. But it smells heavenly. Fanny gives one of her 'options' here, if you feel like 'going grand'. Now, I ALWAYS feel like going grand, and you know, you never know who's going to be next to knock on your door, so you've got to be prepared, right? And hopeful. Going grand here means chopping in some glacé ginger and mixing it in well. How very grand indeed. Luckily I have a jar of Opies to hand. The gingerbread can be baked in any number of ordinary cake tins, Fanny says, but the key is to make sure they are prepared properly - by buttering and flouring them well. I do. So, after half an hour in the oven, Fanny suggests letting it cool in the tin, but will it come out? It does. Fanny says that once it's cooled it's best to wrap it thickly and securely in tin foil and storing it away for a week or so. I don't. Not being one to wait and ever hopeful that someone will come a-knocking, I set it up on my cake stand and get my knife ready. I've got a feeling I'm not going to be hungry tonight after this little beauty! All to myself...