Easy as a Piece of Cake March 9, 2010

This week,  I’m afraid I have been terribly:

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Yes that’s right, dear chitterlings. This week, I, along with several esteemed colleagues, have been rather preoccuPIEd. It began early last week, when, quite simultaneously, we all fell about ourselves over a Piemaker! Can you imagine our mutual chagrin when we discovered ourselves attempting to squeeze through the door of his quaint eatery ‘The Pie Hole’ at the very same time? Quelle Catastrophe! Miss Pamela, the first to have lain eyes on him, forgot all her virtue and began threatening to use her demure hair ribbon as a garotte! Geraldine, meanwhile, joined the fray by brandishing a weighty volume from her bag, suggesting a good pummeling. Not wanting to disarray the elaborate cornucopia I had balanced in my curls, I stepped back from the ruckus, and with the aid of a handy soda dispenser, quelled the warm spirits all round. Once we had all dried off, and were sat most peaceably in a booth with large malts, the following truce was agreed upon:

To LEAVE the most delectable pie-maker (who is, in any case, a work of fiction) to his travail, and revel in our own expertise by the creation of a CELEBRATORY PIE.

Ah, dear crumpetines, this is indeed Esther’s Advice to dispel strife and care on all occasions. The next time you are worn with grief and dismay, and are sitting on the floor surrounded by wrappings, sobbing and cramming cream buns into your mouth, raise yourself up, brush off that icing sugar, and shout gaudiloquently:

I WILL MAKE PIE!

If you are fortunate, and pray to St. Escoffier, your pie may even look a smidgeon like this:

(DELICIOUS FOOD DISCLAIMER: RETREAT A SAFE DISTANCE FROM KEYBOARD TO PREVENT DROOL DAMAGE. Esther Crumpet will be in no way held responsible for salivation based malfunctions.)

Delectable goats' cheese, spinach, pine nut and shallot, puff pastry PIE.

Of course, sweet readers, those will the skills of Esther Crumpet are few and far between, so YOURS may not look quite so glorious. It is of no matter, the important lesson learned is that you have CREATED a dish of which to be proud and SAVOUR, rather than weeping in a buttery mess into your empty packet of prozac.

Until next time, pikelets!

Esther xxx

Chi’s Hake February 4, 2010

So recently, while the world has been touting the fame of this hot new blog site to all and sundry, (why do I get an image of plastic hair bands and combs with that word?) I just happened to MENTION in passing the wit and elegance of my inaugural post to some acquaintances and admirers. Whilst they were swooning into their kir royales, my esteemed colleague Ms. Punnington observed that, as yet, said hot new blog site has only the one post.

To this I reply:

HAKE. CHI’S HAKE.

And before you ask, no, this is not a mythical Asian tale involving a wish granting, but ultimately treacherous fish. It is a post about CAKE. (Ms. Punnington, I assume you will have grasped this at the title, everyone else, think fast)

Come on… Chi ….

and   

… Haaaaake.

Put it together and what’ve you got? That right, this.

Yes, who wouldn’t wish.  No, in fact, whilst I was a-fixing my new battleship hair ornament to my powdered curls, I received a tasty surprise visit from my dear friend Pamela Vartue, who escorted me to the towering garret where several of my close comrades dwell in bookish harmony. There, I was greeted by the sparkling sight of an impromptu soirée and a marvellous CHEESECAKE. Or rather, a marvellous white chocolate and blueberry cheesecake, with meticulous Times New Roman Numbering. Observe…

Beauty to behold. And delicious I assure you! (And clever! The book-learned amongst you will know that ‘chi’ is the 22nd letter in the Greek alphabet; which surely puts the ‘chi’ in Chi’shake. I can also assure you, that although it LOOKS like a 22nd birthday cake, it is rather indicative of my success in the ’22 Crumpets in a Minute Challenge.’ To tell you my age, dear readers, would be most unseemly).

Sadly, on this occasion, my faithful crumpeteers, I will not be providing the recipe. (I may do so at some point in the future, if Ms. Punnington, the confectioner responsible for the cakey creation, so obliges.) However, as my dear Grandmama, Lady Iris Gindram frequently tells me, if you presume to ask what such a paragon of patisserie contains, you should expect the answer, “Shit and Sugar.”.

Until tea-time,

Esther. xxx