Monday, December 21, 2009

coffee cake


Pistachio coffee cake
(Serves 4)
Ingredients:
225g butter, softened, plus extra for greasing
225g caster sugar
4 large eggs
3tbsp strong cold coffee
75g shelled pistachio nuts, very finely chopped
250g self-raising flour, sifted
25g icing sugar, for dusting
For the filling:
300 ml double cream
2 tbsp icing sugar
110g shelled pistachios, roughly chopped

Method:
Preheat the oven to 190ºC, 170ºC fan, 375ºF, gas 5.
Grease a deep, 23 cm (9in) diameter spring-form or loose-bottomed cake tin.
Place the butter and sugar in a large bowl and whisk until light and fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating between each addition until well incorporated. Be careful not to add them too quickly or the mixture will tend to curdle.

Add the coffee and chopped nuts and mix well, then carefully fold in the flour.

Pour the mixture straight away into the cake tin, transfer to the oven and bake for 20-25 minutes, or until golden brown and well risen. Remove from the oven and allow to cool for 30 minutes in the tin before transferring to a wire rack to finish cooling.

For the filling, pour the cream into a bowl and whisk until it forms soft peaks, add the icing sugar and pistachios and fold gently with a spatula until the mixture forms firm peaks, being careful not to over-mix.

To finish the cake, carefully cut it in half horizontally with a bread knife and place the bottom half on to a serving plate. Spread the pistachio cream over the bottom half of the cake, then cover with the other half. Top with a dusting of icing sugar and serve.

Totally chocolate chip cookies
(Makes 12)
Ingredients:
125g milk chocolate
150g plain flour

30g cocoa, sieved
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
½ tsp salt
125g soft unsalted butter
75g soft light brown sugar
50g white sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 egg, cold from the fridge
2x175g packets semi-sweet chocolate morsels or dark chocolate chips

Method:
Pre-heat the oven to 170 C/325 F/Gas Mark 3. Melt the 125g milk chocolate, in the microwave.
Measure the flour, cocoa, bicarbonate of soda and salt into a bowl.

Cream the butter and two sugars in another bowl. Add the melted chocolate and mix together.

Beat in the vanilla extract and cold egg, and then mix in the dry ingredients. Finally, stir in the chocolate chips.

Scoop out ¼-cup-sized mounds-a generous-sized ice-cream scoop and a palette knife are the best tools for the job- and place on a lined baking sheet about 6cm apart. Do not flatten them.

Cook for 18 minutes, piercing with a cake tester until it comes out semi-clean and not wet with cake batter. If you pierce a chocolate chip, try again.

Leave the cookies to cool on the baking sheet for four of five minutes, then transfer to a cooling rack to harden as they cool.

Cinnamon crumb cake
Ingredients:
Crumb topping:
½ cup toasted almonds
¼ cup brown sugar
¼ cup flour
½ tsp ground cinnamon
2 tbsp butter, softened
For the cake:
1½ cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
¼ tsp salt
¾ cup granulated sugar
4 tbsp butter or margarine
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 large eggs
2/4 cups strained yoghurt

Method:
Prepare crumb topping: In small bowl, mix almonds, brown sugar, flour, and cinnamon until well blended. With fingertips, work in butter until mixture resembles marbles.
Prepare cake: Preheat oven to 350ºF.

Grease 9-inch spring-form pan; dust with flour. Mix flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt until combined.
In large bowl, with mixer on medium speed, beat granulated sugar, butter, and vanilla for 5 to 6 minutes or until mixture is fluffy, occasionally scraping bowl with rubber spatula. Reduce speed to low; add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.

With mixer on low speed, add flour mixture alternately with yoghurt, beginning and ending with flour mixture, scraping bowl occasionally, until batter is smooth.
Pour batter into prepared pan. Sprinkle with crumb topping and gently press into batter.
Bake for 40-45 minutes.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

poetry in our lives(The sound of your voice Is like a butterfly It guides along Swiftly, lovely The words slide off your lips Like a butterfly flutter

Human lives are but mere instruments in the hands of the Creator. Some will stand behind this conviction, while others will not. But almost all will agree- what we want to do and what we end up doing are hardly ever the same. What remains within our limits is the power to express. The eloquent expression of these human thoughts takes the form of what we know as Poetry. We express ourselves in views, feelings, and emotions. Poetry stands by us when we desire to express ourselves, our ideas. We take refuge to poetry when nothing helps. A concoction of lyrical expressions at times can be the sedative to soothe our confused mind.Life with poetry
Let us ask, if anything matters in the world when we feel sad, depressed, happy, excited, confused, worried, insulted, or embarrassed. Harsh but true, nothing in space or time alters because of our varied emotions. Poetry is an exception to this rather corporeal and mechanical view of life. In the world of poetry, everyone is welcome to explore at any state of emotion and has every right to give new extrapolations or create new frontiers at any hour. Poetry is an inevitable phenomenon that we cherish within our hearts. For us, life is nothing short of poetry as we like to romanticise and philosophise and we are above all, pretty emotional by nature. This helps us to appreciate poetry. This does not mean however, poetry is the banner of emotional beings only. Poetry is our innate feeling that enables us to appreciate colours of life. A literary reflection in words is merely an edge that does not segregate but in truth, integrate.

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah my foes, and oh, my friends-
It gives a lovely light.
- First Fig, Edna St. Vincent Millay
In love with poetry

When it comes to wishing a good friend, we often tend to our thoughts into something akin to creation of poetry. This effort speaks volumes for our inner conviction for the shared friendship. In the same line, some confess that they started to read, write and love poetry only after falling in love. The fact stands out as a contradiction that great masterpieces of words took birth in the hands of denied lovers!

SMS poems are a new addition to our lives and are more popular among today's young lovers and budding poets. This cultures a fondness for finer feelings and belief within the youth.

Consequently, in love or out of love, in happiness or melancholy, ecstasy or dejection, hope or hopelessness, rebellion or peace, poetry is our constant companion and eternal love. The issue is only of the amount of importance that we attach to this beloved poetry in a bigger or smaller quantity according to our own needs. In spite of it all poetry is always there and like a true love never leaves us alone. Poetry must have sworn-

all your dreams I'll take
all your cares I'll share
all your pain I'll heal
all your life I'll be there
all your dreams I'll turn into real
all your hate I'll turn them into love
I'll turn the hell into heaven
ANYTHING for you my love
What the poet says

Fortunately or unfortunately poets seem to be more productive under critical or extreme conditions with one singular exception, love (inevitably extreme but a euphoric state of mind which proves to be a boon for most poets). Nevertheless, strong negative emotions or experiences or occurrences are reported to inspire a poet more. This is what some young poets said when interviewed for the article.

If we turn our eyes to history, we will see that poetry played a powerful role in our Language Movement and Liberation War. Poetry emerged as a national tool to battle constant suppression and oppression. Only a single poem like “Shadhinota Tumi” by Shamsur Rahman will show anyone the heart of the people and their inner conviction. All other subsequent movements that followed only revealed more explicitly our love for freedom.

In the words of Eugene O'Neill -
Weary am I of the tumult, sick of the staring crowd,
Pining for wild sea places where the soul may think aloud.
Fled is the glamour of cities, dead as the ghost of a dream,
While I pine anew for the tint of blue on the breast of the old Gulf Stream.

I have had my dance with Folly, nor do I shirk the blame;
I have sipped the so-called Wine of Life and paid the price of shame;
But I know that I shall find surcease, the rest my spirit craves,


Where the rainbows play in the flying spray,
'Mid the keen salt kiss of the waves.