Bring me sunshine

I like to think that I’m a realist. I know that my less than imposing height (and several other factors) means that I will not forge a successful modelling career. I know that knowing all the words to Joseph And His Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat doesn’t make me cool. And I know that people will always ask me whether having a Theology degree means I’m going to be a nun. So having lived in England all my life I know that it is going to rain for a significant portion of the year. Nevertheless, waking up last week to see driving rain falling horizontally past my window still made my heart sink. It’s July! The month of barbecues, the irresponsible consumption of Pimm’s and lolling around in temperatures which, if not blazing, are warm enough to warrant the removal of a jumper.

So, ensconced in my flat, clutching a mug of tea defensively, I decided to counteract the rain in the only way I know how- by baking something. Something which would remind me that yes, this is actually summer and provide some kind of comfort in the face of soggy adversity. And also something which didn’t require me to go to the shops for ingredients. A quick perusal of my cupboards and fridge led me to only one conclusion- lemon drizzle cake.

This is one of  my favourite cakes- at my 21st birthday which saw all the tables named after cake varieties, mine was lemon drizzle. It’s sticky, sweet, but never cloying or sickly thanks to the lift which the lemons provide. I generally always have lemons in the fruit bowl as they’re a welcome addition to many baked goods- and the odd gin and tonic too. And as soon as I began to zest the fruit, I knew I’d made the right decision. The fresh, sharp aroma immediately lifted my spirits and transported me to a sunnier, happier place than grey, wet south London. And made me rather want a gin and tonic…given that it was 11 in the morning, I had to fight this particular urge.

Put a lid on it

I recently had a spate of activity in which I did a lot of those stupid jobs which you know you need to do, and you know will take up a negligible amount of your time but somehow you never actually, well, do. Apologies for the amount of italics in that last sentence…I often think in italics, which I don’t think is a normal thing to do. It’s not, is it? Hmm.

But anyway, I was on a roll. I deleted a load of duplicate songs off my iPod which was both satisfying and disturbing as in the process discovered that I have a disproportionate amount of Elton John on there. I know, Elton John. I was as confused and upset as you, not least because his songs outnumbered ones by Pink Floyd fairly comfortably. In addition to being brutally confronted with my questionable taste in music, I also registered with the local doctor’s surgery (despite having lived in this area for over 6 months) and cleared out a lot of old magazines from my room. I was definitely on a roll, and, spurred on by this burst of productivity, I decided to do something else which I’d been meaning to get round to- baking something to take into work.

I’d been mulling over taking some kind of baked good in for a while, but had always stopped short due to the fact that my office has a culture of certain people bringing in baking and as an intern I didn’t want to step on anyone’se toes by bouncing in in my second week with a tin brimming with tasty treats. What if one of the established bakers took offence? What if I managed to get myself embroiled in some kind of confectionary war of attrition? Or, on the other hand, what if they didn’t like what I’d made? Of course, these scenarios are melodramatic, unlikely and really quite silly, but these elements of my personality have a habit of coming out when I’m engaged in things involving butter, sugar and eggs. Please don’t ask why (to be honest I’m a little scared to find out).

Two months down the line, however, I was riding a wave of small achievements and decided that it was time to roll up my sleeves, preheat the oven, and make some cookies.