Boi's II (Married) Men

I think Fanny Cradock was a frustrated wedding planner. She was forever banging on about 'suitable' things to make, and ways to decorate your own home 'simply' for the reception. She was determined to plan it, even if you didn't ask her to. She tells us she had recently decided to give a reception for someone or other which was 'one of those occasions Johnnie and I were driven almost hairless', which doesn't sound like the most glowing of references does it? My dear blogging pal, Cakeyboi, recently got married to Disneyboi on a trip to Canada. They are having their reception soon back home, but sadly I am unable to make it, as I will be away. I'm gutted. Perhaps they'd benefit from some of Fanny's advice instead - no need to thank me Cakey, Disney and anyone else planning a big bash, just call it my wedding gift to you...

Fanny insisted that she catered the wedding without any hired help whatsoever. It simply wouldn't be fair to those of us that cannot hire any help for her to do so. So she didn't. She only had the help of her army of assistants, who were already on board I imagine. No need to hire any more. Fanny's wedding plans are all based around Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed and Something Blue. I do hope Cakey and Disney are paying attention to this. Don't hire any help. There are more detailed suggestions to come.

For something old, Fanny insisted an old tradition be revived. A Receiving Arch. Presumably to be received under. Essential for a wedding. She gives detailed instructions on it's construction. Diagrams and plans. For something new, it's an idea to have two cakes - a three-tiered one and a fancy nancy French one, a Croquembouche. Fanny borrows an idea in the shape of making a third cake, or set of cakes, for the Bridesmaids. Seemingly it's a good trick, as they too will become brides one day and will remember your kindness by asking you to cater their wedding too. The gift that keeps on giving. The something blue is a homemade ice-bucket for the champagne, made by filling a plastic bucket with water, coloured blue, frozen (if you can find a freezer large enough), removed from the bucket, hollowed out ready for the bottle to be inserted. And then melts all over your impressive table, presumably?

Fanny is full of helpful advice that I am sure Cakey and Disney will be pleased to have. 'Continue whipping until very stiff' are excellent words of encouragement in themselves for newly-weds, but Fanny also suggests that you 'neaten off your blobs and stud them with glacé cherries' just to be sure. Fanny continues with her words of wisdom. 'Just line them all up, and go down the line and PUSH, PUSH, PUSH' and if need be 'spread all over and right down to the base of each side, before you slip them in.' Fanny reassures us that 'when it comes to filling and clapping together in pairs' that there is nothing to it really, 'no skill, just patience and a steady hand'. Indeed Johnnie 'always steadies his hand with the other and supports his elbow on the table.' So fear not Cakey and Disney, all will be well.

This advice may not suit all however, especially those challenged by temperature control. Fanny says 'if by any chance you suffer from hot, moist hands' you can forget about doing it yourself. The 'excessive palm moisture will penetrate' seemingly and everything will just stick. No-one wants that, especially at a wedding. So there we have it Cakey and Disney, all the advice you will ever need for a perfect wedding reception. Fanny does warn though that 'after a while the skin on your finger-tips will become hard', so take extra care won't you? She's talking about the Croquembouche, clearly. You knew that though, right? Enjoy the reception!

Fancy a Quickie?

Just to be absolutely, categorically, unquestionably 100% clear right from the get-go, it was Fanny who named these little chocolate petit fours 'quickies' and not me. She also calls them Bon Bons if you find it easier to swallow. Quite a number of the recipes included in recent parts have been totally filthily innuendo laden, almost as if dear old Fanny simply can't resist slipping one in, as it were. Maybe it's the chocolate that gets her all a quiver? Fanny claims that it has a psychological effect on children where they feel the need to smear it all over their naughty little hands, leaving distraught parents to holler at them 'Willy, don't gobble dear!'... You see, she can't control herself. Minx.

Presumably it's the potential waste that smearing chocolate would produce that upsets Fanny so. Fanny doesn't like to squander chocolate, and these 'quickies' are crafted mainly from thrifty leftovers. That's why they are so quick you see. Leftover buttercream and leftover chocolate. What? Who on earth has leftover chocolate just lying around? Perhaps Fanny has gone around snatching squares from the un-expecting naughty but otherwise (we can presume) innocent children intent on daubing and guzzling. She will have none of that.

I'm cracking open a fresh bar of specially coveted couverture I happened to snatch myself on a recent wander around Stockbridge Market, a Haggis spiced bar from Edinburgh based Chocolate Tree. Fanny swore by the restorative powers of Haggis, claiming it had cured her of a nervous breakdown, so surely it would be her choice for an afternoon fumble with a quickie too? Luckily for me, I don't need to be nervous, the chocolate doesn't contain any actual Haggis, just the spices and some oatmeal.

As I don't have any just kicking around, I firstly need to make some of Fannys buttercream, which is a mix of egg yolk, icing sugar and butter. Fanny whisks the yolk with the sugar over a pan of boiling water until it becomes light, fluffy, thick and 'absolutely free from streaks'. Got it Fanny, I'm fully clothed. To cool it down a bit, Fanny takes it off the heat and whisks it over a bowl of ice that she happens to have to hand until it's cold. Kinky. It's quite like a thick custard at this stage, but when beaten butter is mixed in it loses it's inhibitions and loosens up a little. Fanny adds some much reduced coffee to make hers Mocha. Everything with Fanny is Mocha. Not sure that Haggis and Coffee are good bed-fellows, so I add some chocolate extract from Little Pod to mine to oomph up the chocolate taste, before adding some of the melted Haggis stuff.

To the buttercream, Fanny adds a splash of Brandy (and we all know what Brandy makes you) and whips it with an electric whisk, adding more melted chocolate until it's so stiff the beaters almost grind to a halt. Whoa. All that's left to do is pop the mix into a piping bag and swirl it into little metallic cases. As it's so rigid I really need to squeeze hard, and they come out in well-rounded clusters rather than erect little twirls. How very Ferrero Rocher. I'm sure the Ambassador would be very keen to devour a quickie at the climax of his reception, and Fanny would be pleased to oblige. Just keep those smear-loving over-stimulated kids away from these, they'll only start gobbling again. These are for adults only.