0 days to go

What a day...

Marvellous mum and I started at 8am, writing lists and planning our plans. Bunting was ironed and pinned, fortifying hot tea was drunk and toast with home-made marrow jam was eaten (marrow jam is, by the way, surprisingly tasty. After all, anything as a conveyor of sugar is alright by me)

To the sounds of Woman's Hour on Radio 4 (brilliant stuff, do listen, though I'm sure you do), we headed off into Tivvy and hit the market for eggs, the local cake shop for icing nozzles and disposable icing bags, and then the marvellous Heathcoates fabric shop for backing material and fabric dye. One day I will tell you all about the treasure trove that is Heathcoates. I would happily write poems about its loveliness, possibly even hinting at its superiority over John Lewis' haberdashery department. This is really saying something, bearing in mind my devotion, and separation anxiety from the deliciousness that is the department store, John Lewis)

Anyway, back to the cakes. We got back to cupcake HQ and, after lunch (well, it's best not to do these things on an empty stomach) We then baked, and baked and baked, and then iced and iced and iced, and then decorated and decorated and decorated, and in amongst all of this, we also sewed like demon seamstresses and laid out pretend tea parties with empty cake cases on cut glass platters and china cake stands to make sure we had enough room for the cupcakes.

The whole operation would have gone smoothly if it weren't for my beloved magimix, which is now on the shelf of shame, for breaking during the first batch. Can you believe it. A mercy dash to mother-in-laws to borrow her mixer meant that show could go on, the people of Tiverton would get their cupcakes.

My brilliant dad arrived 4 hours into the baking and entertained a delighted Darling boy till bath and bed time. We briefly stopped for milk and stories with the Darling boy (from whom we had to hide all the baked booty by stashing it in the store room) A bit more sewing and baking was squeezed in before we stopped again to enjoy a delicious creamy carbonara cooked my Handsome husband. Then it was back to the icing and decorating. I mixed up more and more batches of butter icing, whilst my marvellous parents got busy with the sign, interpreting my sketches of a patchwork beauty into reality.

By 11.30pm, we had run out of icing sugar and were completely delirious with tiredness and excitement. Vanilla, chocolate, lemon and cherry and almond cupcakes were packed up and stored ready for the morning, along with all the other bits and bobs. A mere 15 1/2 hours later, it was time for bed.

1 day to go!

Marvellous mum has come to the rescue and tomorrow is the day of preparations.

There are ingredients to buy, cupcakes to bake and decorate, bunting to sew, tablecloths to iron and cut glass platters to polish. I also need to work out how to rig the bunting, applique a sign, and maybe print some leaflets (and we haven't got a printer)... and I need to decide how much to charge per cupcake. In amongst this I am half-way through dying all my tea-towels a gorgeous peacock turquoise, why not!?

So exciting!

Friends in Tivvy (or Tiverton, to folk not from round these parts) have promised to come along to cheer 'Adventures in Cake' along the way, with 'mates rates' being hopefully suggested. Since these kind folk normally enjoy my cupcakes for free, I don't know if the hard business woman in me can say no (in fact, I don't think there is a hard business women in me, if there is, she is under a whole lotta chocolate butter icing!)

We are on

The prince has been plugged in, after much malarky over what sort of cable was needed. The lovely man at Tiverton Pannier market has confirmed I have a stall this weekend. My cake boxes have arrived, as has the edible glitter (D.I.S.C.O!) and flower stamp. I have decided to stamp each cake box with a cupcake image, which is arriving by Friday, by way of decoration till I get my own logo designed...

I have run out of excuses and now it is time to get ready for Saturday. Marvellous mum has offered to come and help with the baking and I think it is going to be all hands to the deck.

So, I will be at the Tiverton Pannier market this Saturday from 8.30am-3pm, come on down!

I'm very excited and very worried. I hope the Prince lives up to his name, but mostly I hope that the people of Devon come and buy my cakes...

The beast has a rival

If running my own cupcake company is ever going to happen, I have long thought that I will need more than the Beast to cook my cakes. Only being able to do one tray at a time, and unevenly at that, is hopeless on a mass scale. So, a cooker it had to be. We had first toyed with getting a second hand one, and saving a few pennies, but then I found out that most second hand cookers are virtually the same price as a new one.

So, I had a look on the internet and visited a few shops, looking at the normal sized ovens...then I happened to glance across the shop floor and saw the range cookers (much the same thing happened to me when trying on wedding dresses, I kept a low profile, hoping to go down the ‘lovely, but not the same price as a sofa’ route, but then I tried on the big dresses...game over, set and match to the big dresses) So, I had seen the range cookers and could only think of marvellously practical reasons why buying such a big cooker was a good idea. I convinced myself quite easily and then did some more searching to find the one that would by my Prince.

I found it, I bought it, and it arrived. Bliss. It is out of its wrapping and waiting to Father in law this Saturday to come wire it in, then we will be cooking with gas (well, electricity, as this be the countryside)

The cows are coming home

It has been a dream and an ambition for us to run our own farm. Since moving to Devon, we have been inching closer. Handsome husband has always wanted ‘more’, to be outside, to be working for himself, to be achieving something, doing it his way. Ever since our visit to West Yeo farm, we have been in touch with the wonderful farmers there. They have been a source of advise and have helped us on the path to becoming the farmers we had imagined. We are going to be organic, small scale, and raise pedigree, heritage animals, which are traditional to the area, a lovely nature and very tasty!

We are even buying our first stock from them, 6 cows are arriving shortly, 4 of them are in calf and due to have their babies in spring next year. We are really looking forward to it, especially Handsome husband who is achieving his goal of making a big change to his life before he is 30.

Illegal jam

For a giggle, Mother in law recently entered me into the local Ploughing and Produce competition, which was being held in the farm just down the lane from them (yes, it’s all go where we live!) She had entered me into catagories of 5 x Butterfly cakes, home-made bread in a bread machine and individual desert. Well, life being what it is, I only had time to whip up the Butterfly cakes, and even then I had to tear over to the in-laws on Saturday morning, Darling boy in tow, to use their kitchen- or more specifically, their eggs, as we had run out... (where are those chickens I've been meaning to get?)

By the way, Butterfly cakes to the uniniaitated are essentially cupcakes, but with the tops chopped off, and sliced in half to make the wings of the butterfly. Butter-cream icing is then added (and perhaps a layer of jam, more of that later) and then the wings stuck back on, with a dusting of icing sugar to complete the look. Very cute, very 1950's retro.

I had never made Butterfly cakes before, let alone even eaten one (how can this be?) So I found a recipe that looked good and followed it to the letter (Rachel Allen, 'Bake' an excellent book, read more about her here http://www.rachelallen.co.uk/ )

The cakes went in the oven and came out needing to be cooled asap. With not much time to go, I stuck them on a cooling rack and put them on the bonnet of our car outside in the chill morning air . I had to keep a constant vigil, as the neighbours loony dog had his eye on them I’m sure.

I practised with the piping bag in the meantime and began the Butterfly makeover just in time, slicing off the tops, adding a blob of home-made jam (delicious and made by Brainy bros wonderful other half) I then piped on the butter-cream icing and stuck the wings on.

With just a few minutes to spare, I raced up to the barn to enter my cakes proudly as number 78. I checked out the competition- quite a few people had chanced their luck at 5 x Butterfly cakes and some of them looked pretty tasty. Only time would tell though, and whilst we waited for the judges to swoop, we bumped up the field in father in laws Land Rover to watch the ploughing match.

Its a tough business, this competitive ploughing and taken very seriously by the score of farmers in a variety of tractors, from vintage to horse-drawn. Darling boy was in his element, all those tractors! (it has to be said Father in law was in bliss too)

The afternoon ticked on and the judges decision was out. We trooped up to see the results. Mother in law had down well with her 3 x carrots, 2 x marrows and 3 x runner beans. She had also ‘placed’ with her marmalade and bread. I eagerly scampered to the Butterfly cakes to see where I had come.

Tragedy. Outrage. Horror.

I hadn’t even placed! Unbelievable! On closer inspection, on all the plates, one cake had been cut in half, and only those without jam had been sampled. All those who had placed did not have jam. Had I unknowingly added an illegal substance to my Butterfly cake? The controversial addition of the sticky stuff had ruled me out of any winning chance- the judges didn’t even sample the fluffy lightness of my sponge, or admire the jauntiness of my wings.

Calamity. Disaster. I was robbed!

Well, we liked them, harrumph.

Sweets for my sweet

My oldest friend, Sensible K has returned to London from a 6 month sojourn in India with her boyfriend. He was working and she was sampling the delights that India had to offer- it was an amazing trip and you can read all about it on her totally brilliant blog http://figsandlavender.blogspot.com/

Sensible K earned her nickname when we were at school together, as best mates knocking about together, Sensible K was almost a full year older than me, and, it has to be said, much more grown up and responsible. ‘Sensible K’ grew about as a silly nickname we used, if Sensible K was going to a particular party, then it was ok in my parents eyes if I went too.

It must be said that Sensible K has since grown into a remarkable woman, someone with the courage to go against the grain and not only carry on, but flourish where others might give up. She is an inspiration and a very good friend.

Sensible K was diagnosed with coeliacs, a wheat intolerance a few years back (find out more here http://www.coeliac.org.uk/ ) Although it understandably took her a while to come to terms with it, she is now a complete whizz and it seems like the whole world has opened up to her, and I salute her for it. Much of my blogging about cakes is, stupidly, off the menu for Sensible K as she is off the wheat, oats and barley. Whilst this rules out anything cakey with flour, it does leave a wide range of delicious delights that skip the white stuff in favour of unusual ‘flours’ made with rice or potato, amongst other things, and the good old almond.

So, on a recent work trip to the big smoke, I thought it would be an excellent opportunity to catch the late train home after my meeting and hook up with Sensible K and another old darling friend from school for dinner and giggles. It is Sensible K’s birthday soon, so as an offering, alongside a present and home-made card, I baked up a batch of citrus scented goodies, these orange and almond cupcakes. They are made with almond and potato flour, with eggs, but no dairy also. With the zest of an orange and toasted almonds on the top, these cupcakes were very tasty- I thought (naturally I had to taste one to make sure there were ok). Handsome husband was most put out that I had baked something that he couldn’t eat (as he is sworn off most nuts due to an allergy, almonds being one of them) However, Sensible K thought there were tasty, and that's all that counts.