MIX UP SOME MAGIC
Fill the baking tins with ease
My paternal grandmother, Maude, was a legendary baker. She was my grandpa’s second wife, having married him after my father’s mother died very young. Maude (Nan) grew up in an era that demanded thrift and, as a result, she was immensely resourceful.
Every Sunday we would all hop into Dad’s massive red Plymouth and drive down from the Karori Hills to their big white house on Waterloo Rd in the Hutt Valley for Sunday tea. I was always excited by the prospect. For starters, they had a television (we didn’t), which took pride of place in the very formal front room. I would sneak in to watch it, play with the three ebony carved elephants on the mantelpiece and fiddle with the knob on the fancy 1930s ashtray stand that cleared out the cigarette butts from the tray. I don’t think my grandparents even smoked but smoking was very fashionable, so they had this smart gadget for any guests who did, so they wouldn’t have to see or smell the dead butts.
Nan had only a coal range to cook on. There was no thermometer — she just used to put her hand in to gauge the heat — but she could cook anything to perfection in that oven. Cream horns were one of her specialties — she would make puff pastry and then spiral it around little cone-shaped metal moulds. Often when we turned up, a rack of golden crispy horns would be sitting on the bench, waiting to be filled with whipped cream.
Sometimes she made waffles, always our favourite and usually there was a big roast of lamb with mountains of vegetables from the vast vege garden out the back. She always made mashed potatoes as well as roast potatoes, and lots of gravy.
My grandfather was a very formal man, and prone to being a little curmudgeonly. He hated Nan buying food from the shop, especially if it could have been made at home. But she had her tricks to manage him. One hot summer Sunday, when we were having sausages and chops instead of the usual roast, she was in the kitchen hunting for the tomato sauce. The big glass sauce bottle with the cork top was nearly empty. Checking that my grandpa was well out of sight, she pulled out a big container of Wattie’s tomato sauce, carefully hidden in another cupboard and siphoned some into the bottle. She winked at us and laughed. “He never notices the difference.”
This week, I’m sharing recipes that use my secret weapon in the kitchen – my Magic Baking Mix. It’s such a useful shortcut to speedy baking. Keep it in the fridge and all kinds of loaves, cakes and muffins can be prepared in a flash.