A Whack of Leather - Our Third Fanny-versary!

Three really is a magic number, but sometimes it feels a little overlooked. I mean everyone likes a 'first' don't they? Nothing better. The Winner! The Original! The Pioneer! Second feels like a real achievement, having kept going and 'done it again', still pretty good compared to first. Third though, it's a bit like, okay, that's great. A kind of 'well done' but also a 'what's for tea' kind of celebration really. So, it may just be me, but today I am shouting it loud and cheering (for myself) as Fanny and I celebrate a terrific three years together. Aw. That's 'leather' in anniversary terms... Oh. Best move on.

Three years! You may not have been reading along from the very beginning (erm, but now I think of it, what not?), but that's a lot of weird and whacky recipes, a lot food colouring and a lot of mentions of poor, down-trodden assistants getting into hot water for not following instructions. That's probably where the leather comes in - a quick whack with a belt? It's also three years of learning new techniques, uncovering new flavour combinations and generally having a real laugh. Every day. That's not bad going is it? With Fanny watching over me. Every day. I don't think I've done anything deserving of a good belting. Yet.

I must distract Fanny's mind from leather. Fortunately Fanny has just the thing in mind for 'our' celebration - a three tired cake. Okay, so she's got her celebrations a little mixed up, but it's the thought that counts isn't it? She remembered! Her idea is to make a three tiered wedding cake, perfect for a June bride. She did love a good wedding, whether in June or not. She even had a fake one or two along the way, often more than one at the same time, and never really much clarity on who was married to whom, but we're not being judge-y today of all days, it's a day to celebrate.

Fanny suggests her tried and tested Christmas Cake (is it too early to mention?) for the three tiered triumph. We've made it before, together of course, but never in triplicate. Fanny informs us that the base layer is to be cut and eaten on the wedding day. The second layer should be stored away to celebrate the First Anniversary, or if we are more ambitious, and have blooming good storage, the Silver Wedding Anniversary. The Third and final tier is intended to celebrate the birth of the first child. I fear that Fanny may be waiting quite some time for that particular celebration. Maybe a sacrificial leathering is the best option after all.

So, it's a spicy, fruity, slightly boozy cake fest in June. Once all three cakes are mixed up and baked, Fanny urges us to move swiftly onto the decoration. Almond Paste followed by Royal Icing is essential as a starting point. She advises that it is best to practice decoration on an entirely irrelevant cake that you just happen to have lying around. This is what she makes Johnnie do. Poor Johnnie, it keeps him occupied. He decorates the bottom layer with stars. I, on the other hand, do not have any irrelevant cakes, or indeed any that hang about too long, but I am always applying the knowledge that wise old Fanny gives me. So I know cakes should be blue. Mix the two together and surely this is the ultimate Third Fanny-versary cake? The big question is, will we still be together for the next five years of Fanny Fun required to compete the Cookery Programme? Our next Fanny-versary is the much more suitable Fruit and Flowers, so don't be scared...

A Mille Feuille Love Songs Later

Now that we've mastered our own puff paste, Fanny thinks we are ready to move on speedily to the Classics. Well, the kind of Fanny version of the classics that we have become accustomed to, and in many ways expect to see. Fanny has, with only our very best interests at heart, worked out a way that we can make the Classic Mille Feuille - which is traditionally difficult to make really well - easily and quite quickly. Fanny has scoffed her way around a fair few cream puffs in her quest to find the best, and frankly some of the soggy objects she has been offered were not fit for her, or us. Her version will be the only one to do.

If you haven't made Fannys homemade puff paste, she does say that you can buy some in the shops. It really was more straightforward than expected though. Either way it should be rolled out very thinly, to an extremely mean quarter of an inch. Fanny uses a 'proper' Mille Feuille metal frame to measure and cut - inside the frame please - out the required shapes of pastry. They are then cooked inside the frame to ensure that they remain the correct size. I don't have a frame. I decide to go a bit more free-form, cutting neatly measured rectangles using a pizza cutter. I've been watching the Bake Off Crème de la Crème you see. Fanny may not be pleased, but Cherish the ruler regulator might be.

The only trouble with precision measuring and cutting is that my pastry rolling skills are not precise. So I end up with a lot of off-cuts. In her crusade to enlighten me to the proper, professional way, Fanny has a solution. So, while my rectangles are puffing up on a wetted base in the hot oven, Fanny suggests we set about making some Palmiers. The scraps of paste are cobbled together and rolled out to a large rectangle, brushed with a beaten egg and sprinkled wth sugar. The long edges are rolled in to meet each other in the middle, and stuck together with more egg wash before being sliced and arranged on another wetted tray ready to be baked. Savoury Palmiers may be made using cheese instead of sugar if required. Handy to know, thanks Fanny.

Fannys Classic Mille Feuilles require nothing more than assembly for the first stage. Fanny splits each puffy rectangle in half horizontally and begins making a tower of puffy leaves sandwiched with jam and cream. Confectioners custard may be used in alternative layers too, but I stick with the classic jam and cream combination. I've got extra thick double cream which spreads well and doesn't need to be whipped, so my arm can have a rest. Fanny insists on there being seven layers in all, so one half a rectangle will not be used. Nor will it be wasted. Fanny dusts it with icing sugar and slices it into fingers for tea. I'd be tempted just to have eight layers really, there would still be no waste at all, but I suppose that's not the classic way.

The classic topping is a simple Glacé Icing (icing sugar mixed with a little water) with a chocolate swirly decoration drawn into it. Fanny uses her very favourite softened chocolate chips, but I have a shortcut in a tube. Fanny 'runs in' (the proper technical term) the decoration using a butchery needle. I am quite scared. Thankfully I have a much safer chopstick to hand, perfect for swirling duties. Fanny does say if you simply can't be bothered, don't. Oh. It won't affect the taste of this classic at all. Too late, I've done it. I'm classic through and through, it seems. Fanny is simply doing her job, showing us everything she possibly can, giving us the finest possible information. And, bearing in mind she still has that butchers needle in her hand, we are so very grateful. Aren't we? The finished Mille Feuille won't win any style awards, but it is so tasty. The pastry crisp, light and feathery. The cream and jam balanced well. No soggy objects. Classic Fanny.

Voulez-Vent, ah-ha!

Fanny is all puffed up in the kitchen today. Even more so than usual. It's not her ego that's inflated on this occasion, but rather her classical culinary knowledge that has that 'bloated' feeling. She's bursting with joy to lead us towards a very steep but satisfying step on her 'culinary ladder' to master once and for all the particular pleasure that is perfect puff pastry. It also allows dear old Fanny to drop a few names and Michelin stars into the mix as she recounts the tale of how the greatest of all pastry pastes, pâte feuilleté, came into being. Ideal.

Fanny tells us that French chefs split hairs over it and dispute minuscule variations on its handling. Just a warning. So, we are so very fortunate that Fanny spent some time in the cool, sunny kitchen in Les Baux of Le Roi de Feuilletage (the English translation of the King of Puff Pastry doesn't quite do it justice) himself, the three-Michelin starred M. Raymond Thuillier. Nestled in the troglodyte hills and caves of the remote village, with caves that you could drive a London Bus into if you should ever posses one, apparently, they were also joined by the famous French artist M. Bernard Buffet. What a perfectly named celebrity for such a lover of home entertaining as Fanny.

The honourable Frenchmen shared the tale, as well as the skill, of the puff pastry with Fanny, who in turn shares it with us. Splendid. In a Paris restaurant in the eighteenth century a young junior chef was ordered to make a batch of butter pastry. All seemed well, as the youngster make quick work of it, and put the paste to store in the cool cave for a few days until required. It was only then that, with horror, he realised he had forgotten the butter. So he whipped out the fatless paste, slapped the butter in the middle, rolled it out, rolled it again and again until the butter was not visible and returned it to the coolness of the cave. No-one would know.

When the chef demanded his pastry, the young boy gave it to him but began to tremble with fear, in a way that Fanny surely recognised well from a very similar and constant reaction by her own assistants, as it was rolled out, glazed and baked in the oven. No-one at that time expected to see it reach several inches in height with paper-thin layers. The chef demanded to know what the youngster had done, and instead of walloping him with a wooden spoon when he confessed, he kissed him and shouted 'C'est magnifique! C'est feuilletage!' Fanny would never have done that...

Fanny recreates the magnificence for us in a glorious pic-strip. She makes a ring of self-raising flour on a cold marble surface, while squeezing every drop of moisture from her butter in a double layer of muslin. Half the butter is chopped into small cubes and rubbed into the flour, then the juice of a lemon (Yes! Lemon Juice!) with very cold water added and scissored in with two knives to make a paste. Only touch the paste directly after you have held your hand under a running cold tap for as long as you can stand it. Once chilled, roll into a rectangle. The remaining butter is shaped into an oblong, folded in the centre, turned, rolled and folded again. Chill for 30 minutes in ordinary domestic refrigeration and repeat 5 times. A pillow of pleated puff.

For Fanny, the first thing to do with the puff is naturally the buffet-tastic classic, Vol-Au-Vent. She uses metal cutters dipped into boiling water before use for large circles, and smaller cutters cut only three-quarters way through the paste for the centre piece, which then makes the top. Always dipped into boiling water first. Baked on a wetted tray and majestically risen, they are perfect filled with mushrooms cooked with soured cream. Fanny may not have had any stars or accolades of her own, but with these little crowns I hereby pronounce her La Reine de la Pâte, or more simply perhaps, The Queen of Puff.

Not On Your Nellie

Fanny Cradock is in full-on reflective mood. She wants us to recall the days when London still equalled Paris as the centre of the Gastronomic world. Even readers in the 1970s may not have been able to cast their thoughts back the eighty or so years that Fanny had in mind, but luckily she was able to fill in the blanks. You can always rely on Fanny. Her story begins long before the 1890s, and involves a man who had run barefoot and fished for trout as a little boy in the stream which runs through his birthplace, which happened to be Villeneuve-Loubet in Provence. So, not dear old Johnnie then? Ringing any bells for you yet?

Fanny gives another clue. He reigned supreme at the Savoy Hotel in London and indeed over 'all the greatest chefs in the world'. Shame on you if you didn't guess that Fanny is all a bit dizzy thinking about her all-time hero, and inspiration for everything gastronomic, Georges Auguste Escoffier. As well as footwear-free fishing, Escoffier apparently adored grand opera, and had the pleasure of cooking for Australian Operatic Soprano Dame Nellie Melba when she stayed at 'his' hotel between 1892 and 1893. He adored her and his hotel in equal measure it seems. Probably as much as tickling trout with his toes.

Escoffier apparently famously took a night off to hear Dame Nellie Melba sing Elsa in Löhengrin at Covent Garden. Walking back to the Savoy afterwards, no details were given as to shoes or no shoes, the Swan of Löhengrin merged with his constant culinary thoughts to such an extent that by the time he reached his kitchens the original Pêche Melba had emerged - peaches served on a bed of vanilla ice cream, set between two wings of a magnificent swan shaped out of a block of ice. Thankfully he wasn't reminded of his childhood, or fish would've been a feature. Swans though are totally worthy of a grand night out at the opera.

Or the Royal Albert Hall. Sixty years later in 1957, Fanny recreated an exact replica for 6750 people (exactly) at her sell-out show. That must've been one BIG tub of ice cream. The swan was sculpted from a 30lb block of ice, just to give a sense of scale to Fannys presentation. Presumably Johnnie was set to work on the Swan Sculpture while Fanny performed. Fanny realises that even if we were inspired to, recreating her version of the recreation of the creation (Escoffier added Raspberry Purée at a later date) in this way would not be possible. So she urges us to forget the swan that seemed so central (put down that chainsaw Johnnie) and focus on the simplicity of the dish, which she says, is well within the scope of any cook. Even us.

Provided of course you have an ample purse. Vanilla pods, fresh peaches and 'out of season' raspberries (for nothing else will do for a Pêche Melba) do not come cheaply, but do make a fantastic difference on the very occasional times you can afford them. Do not even consider the 'abominable ersatz substitutes' of tinned peaches, vanilla essence, bought ice cream and 'cloying pink sauce' made with imitation raspberry flavouring and tasting 'quite disgusting'. Which would naturally be choice number one. Instead, poach your fresh peaches gently in vanilla sugar syrup, set them atop a bed of luxurious ice cream, and drizzle with fresh, sieved unsweetened raspberries. This is the Real Peach Melba, the most famous of all ice cream puddings. Simple it is, but deliciously divine. Swans are entirely optional.

You Couldn't See Green Cheese But You'd Want It

When I was young there was a phrase that everyone always seemed to say to me when I wanted to try something which they had. 'You couldn't see Green Cheese but you'd want it.' As a phrase it intrigued the curious child in me of course, and I spent many, many years on the look out for Green Cheese. Could I see it? Would I want it? It seemed like it must've been the most elusive of foods, and as a result of constantly being told that I would want it, I inevitably did. It became desirable. My search failed, until now. Fanny always seems to fill in the culinary blanks. Her Green Cheese is also an ice-cream, which is a little unexpected to say the least. Will I want it after all?

Fanny says it's the perfect way to surprise your guests (I bet) while at the same time saving yourself the trouble of working on a finishing course at the time of entertaining. In other words, it is made in advance. It is one of Fanny's own special invented recipes, which came about after Johnnie apparently moaned on about the lack of 'this kind' (can only assume he means cheesy) of ice-cream for many years. I wonder if Fanny just misunderstood and he was repeating the phrase so often said to me? At any rate, Fanny locked herself in the kitchen for what she calls a 'trial and error session' where this recipe emerged and has been used to surprise her guests ever since.

This ice-cream starts of more like a sauce, by making a roux with melted butter, working in the same amount of sifted flour. The roux needs to be cooked for at least two minutes, according to Fanny's trials with error, before being transformed into a sauce with dry white wine. Gradually. Once combined, Fanny adds in single cream. Gradually again. It's quite a glossy sauce at this stage, perfect for adding grated cheese to. Fanny suggests Gruyère and Parmesan, but I substitute the Gruyère for some salty Swedish Västerbotten that I have been enjoying recently. I know that Parmesan is not vegetarian, but it's my choice. I like the taste. I'm a bad vegetarian. If you don't eat it, substitute for something you do, please don't send me nasty letters.

Off the heat, an egg yolk is beaten in and then some double cream. Gradually. You get the idea. Fanny suggests tasting at this stage and 'correcting' the seasoning with salt, pepper and even nutmeg if required. It's quite hard to know what the 'correct' finished product should taste like, but the Västerbotten I think provides enough saltiness and sharpness that no correction is required. It tastes like a cheesy, creamy sauce. It would be perfect with pasta. Fanny's top tip is to 'remember' that freezing diminishes the potency of both sweet and savour flavours, so best to 'err' on the side of generous. Remember Fanny has no doubt tried lots of variations in her 'trial and error' session, so she will know best.

The next error is a fairly major one for Fanny. The recipe just ends here. It's almost as if Fanny has drifted off. What happens next? Luckily for me, and you, Fanny repeats her recipes time and time again throughout the many cookbooks of her career, and this particular gem can be found in the 1970 masterpiece, The Cook Hostess' Book. The missing instructions are simply to divide the mixture into little moulds and freeze until ready for service. Little cones seem appropriate to me. For showing off, Fanny encourages us to transform the appearance of the finished ice-cream from a dull, flatfish cream beige colour with harmless green vegetable colouring, which is much more pleasing to the eye. I do half and half. I half-freeze it before piping and freezing again, I'm really showing off. My eyes are delighted. It's certainly a surprise to the taste-buds too. So next time anyone says that intriguing phrase to you, say proudly 'yes I can, I do and I have, thanks to Fanny!' She'd be thrilled.

The Gourmet has Galloped

Could it be that dear old Fanny Cradock inadvertently inspired one of the most famous moves in TV cooking history? Fanny began her TV career in 1955 in the U.K., only a few years before the soon-to-be Galloping Gourmet himself, Graham Kerr, was to launch his infamous 'leap' into TV history in New Zealand. "I was told," Graham told me, "that Fanny went to Paratroop training school to learn how to fall and roll in one fluid movement, which she then employed when making an entrance down a sweeping staircase! It might just have been this piece of gossip that got us thinking about jumping chairs as an entrance!" Fanny would've been absolutely thrilled to hear this, and delighted to claim the credit of course!

Food on TV has changed a lot since those times, and both Fanny and Graham helped in the transformation greatly. "I do miss the classics, but I am pleased at the attempts to 'nourish and delight' now. TV food shows have multiplied to such an extent and the audience has been so fragmented that budgets no longer allow for the time we spent on research, travel and testing. I truly tried to do my best - despite making 195 shows a year - to show how each dish was made, and still bounce a ball on my nose and finish on time - not an easy mix!" The average Fanny series had 10 episodes, and despite being known for her entertaining style, I don't remember any balls on noses! "My wife, Treena, said that I was the most unutterably boring man in the entire world, so I challenged her to produce my show. She demanded the first six minutes and then left the rest to me! The large audience came for a fun evening!" And they got it. "The Food Network credited Treena for having launched cooking as entertainment. I simply did what I was told, more or less!"

Things were slightly different with Fanny and Johnnie, although it seems they lived fairly similar lives off screen - dedicated to the shows. "I met Treena at school when she was 10 and I was 11, I can remember very little of my life that did not include her. I loved good food and wine, she loved a good laugh and a very well paced show. We lived, ate and slept that show - at the time we ate what I cooked. Since I developed every single dish myself, we wound up eating my experiments! It was fun, and at the same time not the best choice for a healthy diet!" These days it would all no doubt be featured on screen, kind of like a blue-print for Ina and Jeffrey? "I have not had a television connected to the outside world for over 18 years, so quite honestly I have no up-to-date opinion. I do warmly approve of most of Jamie Oliver's activism though..."

Like Jamie, and of course Fanny too (yes, even on the BBC), sponsorship and product placement was an important aspect of Graham's blossoming TV career. "I hated it from day one in commercial television," Graham tells me, "but it was a fact of life. To cook one needed ingredients and equipment, both of which used to have their brand names blacked out, but were still easily recognised. I cannot remember ever deliberately including anything in order to gain sponsorship, but once a sponsor came on board it was unlikely that I would use a competitors product!" Graham and Treena turned their backs on the lifestyle and fame that they had created however. "We gave the name Galloping Gourmet away, along with all our financial gains back in 1976 when we set off on our journey to recover our love for each other, and for our fellow man whom we had so little time." Graham tells the fascinating story in his book, A Flash of Silver.

The book is a great read for anyone interested in a genuine story of love, travel, early TV cooking, and the roller-coaster lifestyle that fame and fortune brought, for good and bad. Ever the innovator, Graham remains connected to his audience in a unique and special way. "I have turned a massive u-turn on that far less financially rewarding track, but I have never been so engaged with my readers as I am now on the blog that will explore A Flash of Silver for the next three years! God willing and the creeks don't rise too much I will make it, and hopefully finish well!" The galloping gang of group-thinkers in the Reflective Readers Club hope so too!

It all sounded great fun while it lasted, allowing Graham to gallop all over the world. Including a trip back to where it all began, to Scotland. There's a great section in the book where Graham recalls running along Princes Street at speed and unfortunately tripping, falling head over heels. All very Trainspotting. Perhaps Graham should've gone with Fanny to that Paratroop training session? "It was a dream come true to visit my home turf, my family comes from Ferniehurst, just south of Edinburgh. I loved every minute of our time there." And how was the food? "It was all well cooked, but without a sense of 'place' that I look for wherever I go!"

Food was so important to Graham then, and still of course today. "I'm not a vegetarian, like you, but I do aim for at least 7 servings of plant foods every day. As kids we were often told to 'eat up your vegetables, they are good for you!' It's our early attempts at rebellion to kick up a fuss and upset our well-meaning parents. As adults our tastes change and the Brussel Sprouts of our youth can now be a delight! My all-time favourite dish is from Scotland mixed with the land in which I now live. I call it P3 - Pale Pink Porridge!" Graham recommends I make a good bowl of wholegrain old fashioned Oats, adding frozen blueberries, raspberries and blackberries stirred in with some chopped hazelnuts. "It is quite pink and represents a place - Mount Vernon in the Skagit Valley, north of Seattle, 92, 000 acres of rich farmland and an abundance of berries!" A wonderful treat with a wonderful 'sense of place'. Perfect for reflecting on life with less of a gallop and more of a quiet ponder ... "I don't regret a moment of that show, we did it with a whole heart and wanted to believe that we brought some joy and understanding about food." Millions of fans would whole-heartedly agree. "One of my most sincere regrets is that I never met Fanny Cradock though." I think he means it too. Aw, wouldn't it have been sensational to see them leap over a kitchen chair together for a TV special 'Take Kerr with Fanny'!

Bringing Retro Back - 200th post! + Charlotte White Book Bundle Giveaway!

To help me celebrate 200 retro-tastic posts I've been chatting again to my Deliciously Decorated favourite cake designer, modern-day Fanny Cradock, Charlotte White, and she's only gone and dressed-up as Fanny for the occasion! 

Photography - Jez Brown Styling - Sarah Dunn 

Fanny thought she was Bringing Retro Back in the 1950s-1970s, and now we look back at those times as 'retro' - what does 'retro' mean to you and why are we obsessed with bringing it back?

Funnily enough, when I think of retro food, I think of Findus Crispy Pancakes and Birdseye Potato Waffles! I think that the element of nostalgia is irresistible to us - it seems to be in our nature to look back to the recent past through rose-tinted glasses. We do this with fashion and music so why not with cuisine too? Fanny lived through a great deal of social change as well as the huge impact of rationing, which I genuinely believe is still felt in some generations - my own Father was born in 1954, the year that rationing ended, so it should have had no effect on him but his capacity for sugar makes me wonder if my Grandparents made up for the years of scarcity with plenty of sweet things in their house.

Photography - Jez Brown Styling - Sarah Dunn 

You always dress so glamorously, and back in the day Fanny was renowned for her sense of style - how did it feel to dress as Fanny Cradock? Did you suddenly start to beat your assistants with perfectly ordinary spatulas? 

I was completely rubbish! I couldn't stop giggling! I am far too silly for this. I tried to channel Fanny's short shrift but would catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror and corse up completely. My photographer, Jez Brown and stylist, Sarah Dunn, were no help either as this was the most bizarre thing we had ever done as a team! Jez is used to photographing pin-up girls and Sarah more often makes me up to pass as one, rather than a middle-aged woman. Plus, it didn't help that Sarah's German Shepherd, Suki, kept barking because she didn't like the look of me!

Fanny loved cakes that were bright colours and looked over-the-top in the impressive stakes - there were always neighbours that she never really liked very much to impress - what makes a stand-out cake design for you? Fanny's golden rule was blue icing for cakes, green for potatoes - what are your signature colours?

I completely agree with Fanny that a cake should be impressive and I love a brightly coloured cake. Some of the ingredients and equipment that we have in the kitchen now would make her green with envy - as green as her potatoes! I'm not sure if I have a signature colours so much of what I do is bespoke and created for an occasion. I get through a lot of white sugarpaste! Funnily enough, I do use a great deal of blue! I use an airbrush from Squires Kitchen to create ombre effects on sugarpaste and their colours are so interesting and vibrant that the only limit we have is our imagination now. Also, because food colouring pastes are more intense and less chemical tasting, we can create rainbow coloured sponge cakes. Fanny would have loved a rainbow cake!

Photography - Jez Brown Styling - Sarah Dunn 

We are seeing a lot of festivals, TV shows and so on Bringing Retro Back - which are your favourites and how do people relate to the retro themes? 

My favourite festival each year is the Twinwood Festival in Bedfordshire - it was part of the reason we moved here from London! It's three days of vintage shopping and music held on the air base where Glenn Millar took his last flight from. I've even been known to get involved in a Cockey Singalong in The Nag's Head pub on site... I was lucky enough to demonstrate for Kenwood in their kitchen theatre at The Goodwood Revival last September and can honestly say I've never felt more at home in my life. I loved working in the retro kitchen set with some of Kenwood's heritage products on display. Fanny would've loved to have access to the kitchen technology that we have now!

Fanny never wore an apron when she did demo's, and never had a spot on her ballgowns afterwards. Is this a realistic ambition? 

I always end up with cornflour on my boobs. Every time. It's just the way I am built! I've learned never to wear black for demonstrations for this reason. I've had chocolate buttercream all over me and have done the stand-mixer-icing-sugar cloud too, but that's all part of the fun of live cookery! When I am in my won kitchen and baking for orders I am fully aproned up. You can always tell if I am getting cocky if you see me demonstrating in a white dress...

So, if you were to style a cake à la Fanny how would it look?

I would want to create a cake that was glamorous and over the top. It would be adorned with pearls and diamonds and folds of taffeta in sugarpaste. It would be entirely fabulous and a little out of place in a modern setting, like Fanny. The icing would be blue.

Well, here's my go - it's Charlotte à la Fanny. I'm celebrating my 200th post with Charlotte's Red Velvet Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting Icing. If you fancy winning a bundle of both her brilliant books, which will help you do a much better job than I have, just leave me a comment below telling me your favourite colour for icing and fill in the Raffelcopter thingy-ma-jig which will randomly select a winner. You must do both. The lovely folks at Ryland Peters and Small will send the books directly to the winner. Good luck! (UK Entrants only) 

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