In which the penguins return

I really did think, for a minute, we'd escaped them for good.

And then, there was The Beast (see this post, he's lurking in the background of the bump picture). He arrived in the UK in August and came back to France with us in the back seat of the car. Thankfully Customs didn't stop us, because we didn't have a passport for him.

And then... they started coming for Ze Baby. First, a friend sent us some adorable penguin bootees (thanks Caroline!). Lovely, practical penguins making themselves useful.

Then there was this from my brother, and my sister gave her a penguin glove puppet for Christmas.

They also appear to be working in more subtle ways. The Original Penguin (who even had his own Facebook account at one point...) goes by the name of Carrot. Anyone who was at our wedding (or has seen pictures) will be aware that we have a certain prediliction for cuddly vegetables round here... and the carrot tally, at the last count, was up to FOUR, plus a pair of orange socks with rather suspicious green frills around the top.

You know what? I GIVE IN. Penguins, you've WON.

39 weeks

So. After all that, the Squidlet seems to have decided she's in no hurry to come out after all, and we've got to 39 1/2 weeks. Because of her early escape attempt, I've been more or less mentally prepared for her to turn up for the last three of those weeks, and I'm starting to get a bit frustrated.

Also, it's gone relatively cold here, which would be fine except I only have one pair of maternity jeans. Cue cut-offs with knee socks on the days my jeans are in the wash... the giraffe print socks look particularly classy. Oh yes.

(No, I don't go out much, why do you ask?)

Come ON, Squidlet. I want to be able to wear skirts again. And to be able to walk at normal speeds. And drink vast quantities of beer eat things with raw eggs in. I have plans for a chestnut tiramisù which are becoming increasingly urgent.

Oh, and while we're at it: one bump picture.

I wasn't consciously attempting to imitate the penguin in the corner, either. Honest.

Cake, again

After a week or two of (vaguely) snow-related disruption, I'm back with a whole list of things to post over the next couple of weeks. There may even be some kind of organisation involved (ooo! organisation!) in the form of series of posts, but more on that later. For the time being, though, no big changes around here- just more of the same, or similar, in the form of cake.

The Smallest One was thirteen the other day, and so cake was in order. I considered making the now-somewhat-notorious Broken Glass Cake (no real glass involved, honest, I'm not really evil) but that would have required a trip outside in search of ingredients, and, well, I had other things to use up.

It turns out that, last week, I spoke too soon and there was another penguin waiting for me at home.

Well... at least I think it's a penguin. In any case, it was full of marshmallows.
Incidentally, the cookery book in the picture is Valentine Warner's What to Eat Now. My mother approves of him as "a bloke who eats", hence her possession of the cookbook. Having flicked through it, he reminds me somewhat of ze boy in his determination to eat anything with four legs.

The red plastic thing is the penguin's boater hat. Why yes, my marshmallow-filled penguin has a boater- how else is it meant to keep the sun off its face? Honestly, some people!
In any case, the opportunity to make cake with marshmallows could not be passed over.

Step 1: One chocolate cake. Photo demonstrates my ineptitude in the realms of both food photography and even slicing of cake into halves. Also, I hadn't tidied the kitchen table. Bad Dobby.


Step 2: Marshmallow gunk. Very pink. Actually, most confectionary items can be made into a satisfactory gunk for cake filling by melting them in cream, in case you were wondering. I had to take this outside to get the full effect of the Barbie-pink-ness to register in the photograph.

"Hi, George? It's Tony. We seem to have found the Weapons of Mass Destruction...
No, wait, it's just really scary-coloured cake filling".

Step 3: Assembly, crème ganache and the rest of the marshmallows. I took the cake outside, where it made friends with an ornamental frog.

Cake with Frog. Sounds like a Heston Blumenthal recipe, n'est-ce pas?

Off back to the cupboard now, possibly with what remains of the cake.