King of the Kingstons

 

Fighting with your siblings is a rite of passage. It instils such fine attributes as a sense of passion and the ability to make sure you are not duped. And let’s face it a dash of guile and cunning is an essential life skill, one might as well learn it young.

So let it go on public record that The Kingston biscuit, nestled in amongst its mediocre fellow Arnott’s assorted, was a prize worth fighting for. Perhaps it was the presence of chocolate, or the fact that there were only 4 of them but 8 crappy old Monte Carlos per packet, but the Kingston gave the greedy kids of Australia a lesson in tactics.

There was the quality over quantity trade option; one Kingston for 3 custard creams would always conquer my brother and his Labrador pup approach to food. Then there was the Red Riding hood esq going solo to visit Grandma routine, which always resulted in a non competitive dip in the bickie barrel. However my greatest manoeuvre was the biscuit by stealth option, which set me up for a lifetime of thinking that if no one sees you eat it then the calories don’t count.

Not so long ago I got the chance to nibble on a Kingston(which I didn’t have to endure a dead leg for) and frankly it was a great dissapointment. How could it be that the token of victory from my youth was way too sweet and miserably small?

I have taken it upon myself to reinstate some glory to this fallen hero. Hence the following recipe is not completely accurate, but it does capture the best nostalgic highlights of coconut and chocolate to great effect.

It is gluten free but that is merely a happy coincidence of this simple recipe. The absence of any flour or binding agent creates a beautiful light airy biscuit which gives an almost toffee like crunch. I just wodged mine together with some chocolate icing I had hanging around in the freezer, the Achilles heel of this plan is that not everyone has bits of surplus icing on hand. Happily I can report they are remarkably good with a glop of nutella as a substitute, or you could go the whole hog and whip up a chocolate ganache if you were really being fancy.

But whichever route you take with the filling, be sure to make sufficient to go round – as some people think that there is little dignity in fighting for biscuits.

Coconut Kingstons

These yummy biscuit sandwiches are a cinch to make, the trick is to try and keep the size of each biscuit small and dainty.

55g butter, softened
115g white sugar
1 egg
½ teaspoon vanilla
150g desiccated coconut

Nutella or chocolate icing

Pre-heat oven to160 degrees and line 2 trays with baking paper.

Cream the butter and sugar using an electric mixer. Mix in the egg and the vanilla. Using a spoon, stir through the coconut.

Place small teaspoonfuls of dough onto trays lined with baking paper, leaving space for spreading, and flatten slightly with a wet fork. Bake in oven for 25 minutes or until golden, and cool the biscuits on the paper on a wire rack.

Sandwich together using a teaspoon of Nutella (or if you are a purist melt 150 g of chocolate with a Tbs of butter over a low heat to make a shiny mixture)

The Fickle World of Friendship Cakes

I think it was the mid 80’s that my Mum was bequeathed a “friendship cake” from one of her work colleagues. The premise was simple, for the next 10 days the yeasty brew would have bits lovingly added so that it blossomed into a voluminous mixture that was then divided and shared so that the inherent joyful cosmic energy could be passed onto another set of friends.

I can vividly picture the bubbling mass, that after a life of neglect, finally died in the back of the fridge. Shall we just say that my mother is perhaps too practical for recipes that are written as poetry?

It was some time last year, whilst enjoying a mid week cuppa with one of my besties, Bec, that I innocently offered her some cake paraphernalia.  Her face recoiled as she stared muttering something not having time for the likes of that.  Suffice to say it wasn’t a “bloody friendship cake”  It was actually some very fine samples I was kindly giving her, but is it did prove two points.

First; I have long suspected that Bec and I swapped mothers somewhere along the way and secondly not everyone likes to phaff about with recipes whose instructions span days. However jaunty and heartfelt the idea of dividing and sharing a cake batter let’s just say that one persons batter is another person’s bitter.  

So when at age 38 I was bequeathed my own batch of “friendship cake” I embraced the opportunity of following the 10 day ritual and was rewarded with a most splendid cake.

 

A cake so fine I would love to be able to replicate it without the rigmarole of dividing and sharing. I have done some experimenting and have come up with this no nonsense version.

Mum is popping on a plane next week, Bec is over in November and for both visits I’ll be sure to have a yeasty brew doing its funky thing on the bench. There will be eyeball rolling and general despair at the fact they collectively think I spend far too much time in fairy land. But that I guess is the essence of friendship, knowing each others quirks and celebrating the difference. One thing is certain both their visits will involve a good few hours of tea, cake and gossip, because that’s what we do best; I can’t wait.

 

Minimal Phaff friendship cake

Up to 2 hours before making the cake make the yeast base

In a large bowl mix;

·         2Tbs of flour

·         1 Tbs sugar

·         1 heaped teaspoon yeast

·         ¼ cup water

Let it bubble away and do its thing – remember you are condensing 10 days in to 2 hours – so be cool, 2 hours isn’t long.

Preheat oven to 180c, line and grease a deep sided 22cm cake pan.

Into the yeasty brew add

·         2 cups self raising flour

·         1 cup sugar

·         2/3 cup olive oil

·         2 eggs

·         2 tsp vanilla essence

·         2 cooking apples cut into chunks

·         ½ cup dried apricots finely sliced

·         ¼ cup chopped nuts

·         2 heaped teaspoons cinnamon

·         1 teaspoon ground cloves

 

Mix well then place into prepared tin, scatter with

·         ¼ cup crumbly brown sugar

·         dot with tiny blobs of butter

 

Bake for 45 mins. It should puff up magnificently and create a wonderful appley waft throughout the house. Cover with alfoil and cook for an additional 20 mins to ensure cake is thoroughly cooked.

Best served with and a cuppa and a gossip with your best friend.