Cupcake Cure

It’s funny how sometimes you’ll find my friends and I standing about in a straight line, frozen stiff when there appears a swarm of squealing toddlers running zig zag about you or between your legs. It’s terrifying, absolute pandemonium unfolding before your eyes. A dear friend of mine even confessed this most ridiculous line: ‘I am allergic to two things; one of which is children.’ I don’t think I’m particularly allergic and I don’t really believe he meant what he said. Call it the heat of the moment. It’s perfectly logical in my opinion, however, that some people find children annoying, judging that the we’ve witnessed some which are just nightmares. But I have to admit that majority of the little buddies that I’ve met or spotted at work around the baby section are just truly adorable. And don’t get me wrong, I am in no way anti-children and I do want children in the future. Just a warning to my future kids though: discipline discipline discipline and then sweet treats on Sunday if you’re good otherwise you’re getting shoved under the stairs with no tea (your Mama Diva here’s giving you this headstart years in advance).

Nevertheless, when my soft spot for children goes away, I’ve been known to be a real mean dick – I’ve stolen candy from a kid before. So sue me. Who was that poor sucker? My sister. I stole her candy. I stole her whatever that thing is that babies suck on when they’re teething. I stole it right and good and it even waved it in her face, laughing.

I am mean and I ain’t gonna deny that. And oh yea, I’m greedy like that.

Maybe it’s because I’m still a child at heart. But humanity has got the better of me, civilization has socialized me and so I’ve stopped doing dumb things like that. If you can’t have what they have, make it for yourself. And so I did. My little sis C texted me to say Mum was making a lovely spread for breakfast Saturday morning. I wasn’t gonna lose at breakfast half a world away and if my mama can’t make it for me, suppose I’ve two hands, a pathetic kitchen but a brain nevertheless. The plan? To self-indulge in the kiddiest, cutest breakfast ever. And if mini-anything is not simply the cutest, I don’t know what is.

Catty has been tweeting about this – Matcha Madness. Matcha – one of the four foods I love most in the world (mushrooms, berries, matcha and black sesame seeds – they drive me wild). What is it about? You like matcha? You eat matcha? You want MORE matcha (from Teapigs)? Then head on over via the link and take part. Stop procrastinating. Go paint the town green.

So. I basically agreed to get involved, partly because I love to win things. Who doesn’t, right?? My post for it, however, is definitely not the most creative. And compared to the other things I’ve made before using matcha, this certainly pales in comparison so bad I probably shouldn’t have even bothered. And here comes the BUT. I gotta say the simple combination of flavours in this reminds me of Japanese Christmas Cake – strawberries, fluffy light sponge and whipped cream. This is quite perfect for the summer heat especially when British strawberries are at their best now, all red ripe and fat. Simply use your favourite pancake recipe (I’ve used one meant for dorayaki actually, recipe over here), whip up some double cream with matcha and a touch of icing sugar if needed. Put everything together including the ripest sweetest fat strawberries you can find and drizzle golden syrup over.

When I was a kid, I used to make up combinations of fruit and biscuit as dessert for my parents. After a meal, my mama would clear away the dishes and I’d be busy in the kitchen hacking away (alright, actually nimbly slicing away) at whatever fruit was available, banging together some biscuits, chocolate squares that sorta thing together and putting it all nicely on a plate a la smiley faces, concentric circles, towers, etc.

Some kids had Lego. I had fruit and biscuits.

This childish pancake stack is really a tribute to that little kid me. The cherry on top? Those broken bits of matcha biscuits I stabbed into the matcha whipped cream. I have so much class, now don’t I?

Source: diva