Yummy Mummy

Some of you have occasionally been kind enough to comment on my better culinary productions, so I thought I’d sift through my photos and see if I could offer any useful advice for the kitchen amateur.

I think I’ve covered all the basics. 

1) Don’t slope off to read blogs and forget that you are actually cooking something.


2) Don’t slope off to read blogs and forget that you are actually cooking something.

Beef casserole

3) Several weeks later, really don’t slope off to read blogs and forget that you are actually cooking something.

beef caserole incineration

4) Remember, when you have oh-so-carefully rolled and shaped some delectably light and tasty chocolate pastry, that chocolate pastry is a card-carrying bitch and will fall apart the moment you attempt to slide her fragile deliciousness onto your rolling pin. When the texture eventually resembles that of left-out-in-the-frost playdough, you have beaten it into submission. Shape, bake and serve.

chocolate pastry

5) Remember that Yorkshire Puddings often taste nicer on your plate than welded solid to the tin.


6) Sponge cakes obtain their light fluffy texture from incorporated air. If you must randomly lose your temper and kick an inanimate object, a good choice of object would be one that does not contain impact-sensitive air-incorporation chemistry in progress. The oven door is an excellent example of a poor choice.


7) Do not cook while intoxicated. It is possible to become Confused regarding raising agent quanties.

sunken cake

8) Do not cook while intoxicated. It is possible to become Confused regarding raising agent quanties.

Overflowing cake

18 Responses

  1. Good to know that you’re not always creating perfect Shaun the Sheep cakes.

    I thought drinking and intoxication was how French food came into existence…

  2. Bwaaah–I love #7 (which is also #8)

  3. Ok. I now feel like my daily “what prepared meal can I heat up” habit is less appalling. Thank you.

  4. ROFL!

    I’m so glad I’m not the only one who starts reading blogs and forgets there is food cooking.

  5. Oh my dearest HFF Wifey. I think I love you. Burnt offerings…very often meal of last resort around Villa Kore as well. After takeway Chinese. that is.

    And my dear old Grandpop, born not all that far to your North, used to say ” If it’s brown, it’s cooked. If it’s black, it’s boogered”

  6. HAHA! Brilliant!
    Thank you, that does my heart good.

  7. That makes me feel so much less inadequate in the kitchen.

    Thank you!!

    (The other day I made a cake and added two eggs instead of three, result was a bit crumbly mess)

    • Some milk might have got you out of the cacky there – unless you simply miscounted the yolks! I’ve done that before when scaling up: forgotten half way through and returned to recipe book quantities. FAIL.

  8. what is no 3?

  9. I love the fact that you document your failures in equal measure to your great successes, and thank you for sharing the same.

    My mother is an excellent cook, but even in her kitchen we still joke that one can tell the meal is ready when the smoke alarm starts ringing…

  10. Hahahaha! Too funny! Loved the explanation of #6.

    When my children were younger it became a running joke to sing out, “Supper’s ready!” when the smoke alarm in the living room went off, but not because I’m prone to burning things (very often). We live in a small bungalow with the kitchen adjacent to the living room and if you turn the oven up higher than 350 F, the smoke alarm will go off as soon as you open the oven door to take the food out.

  11. LOL, I love it!!

  12. If it makes you feel any better, ALL my cakes look like your #6 and that’s when I’ve NOT touched a drop, I am NOT reading blogs and NOT generally confused. Nor do I kick the stove. I don’t live at a high altitude or anything. I’m just an awful cake-baker and I don’t know why. It’s very sad.

    I love that you documented these in the first place. I am never so good-humored in the midst of my cooking tribulations.

  13. I’m shocked and stunned to discover you are a mortal in the kitchen. (Or are these fake shots to reassure the rest of us?)

  14. Sage advice.


  15. “It’s a little brown,” was a common phrase my mom used while I growing up! Agreed, those treats don’t look quite as yummy as your cakes, but the stove…it makes me swoon. How divine.

  16. I do love you, you funny funny lady you.

    The every first time I cooked for the In-Laws, after H had told them in glowing jolly proud and shiny terms that I was an excellent cook, I presented them with undercooked curry in which the yoghurt had split into curdled ick, and seriously over-cooked rice, which was exactly like white porridge.

    The shame.

    Also, all my cakes ever look like number 8. My mother is a fabulous cake-baker. She tries and tries to teach me. But I am lacking the cake gene.

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