Read Christmas At The Cupcake Cafe Online
Authors: Jenny Colgan
‘If you get on to teen voting rights, I’m hanging up,’ warned Austin.
‘No, don’t …’ said Issy.
There was a silence as Darny gave the phone a rude gesture, then, muttering darkly about how things would change around here when teens got the vote, he grabbed a bunch of bananas and disappeared upstairs.
‘Has he gone?’ said Austin eventually.
‘Yup,’ said Issy. ‘He seems in a pretty good mood tonight, actually. Maybe school wasn’t as bad as all that.’
‘Oh good,’ said Austin. ‘Thanks, Issy. I didn’t really think puberty was going to kick in till a bit later.’
‘Oh, it’s not too bad yet,’ said Issy. ‘He’s still talking to us. I think that goes altogether soon. Although his trainers …’
‘I know,’ said Austin, wrinkling his nose. ‘I’d kind of stopped noticing the smell before you came along.’
‘Hmm,’ said Issy. There was another pause. This wasn’t like them at all. Normally there was no end to the conversation. He would tell her what was up at the bank; she would mention funny clients or whatever it was Pearl and Caroline had had their latest fight about.
But what she was doing
was the same as always. For him, life seemed to be becoming very different.
Issy racked her brains to try and think of something to talk to him about, but came up short – compared to New York, her day had been the usual: talking to sugar suppliers and trying to convince Pearl to let her hang some tinsel. And the rest of the time … well, she couldn’t say this, because it felt like it would be unfair on him, that she was blaming him for being away, or turning into one of those awful clingy women she didn’t want to be, always moaning at their other halves. So she couldn’t tell him that pretty much all she’d been thinking of, all that was filling her head, was how much she missed him and wanted him home and how much she was dreading him uprooting their lives just as, for the first time in years, she felt she was coming into safe harbour.
So she didn’t say anything at all.
‘So what’s up?’ said Austin, confused. Getting Issy to talk was rarely a problem. Getting her to not talk when the cricket was on was usually far trickier.
‘Oh, nothing really. Same old.’
Issy felt her face grow hot as the silence drew out between them. Austin, however, was waiting to cross a four-lane highway without being entirely sure of which way the traffic was coming, and was blind to minor emotional nuance. He thought she was cross with him for leaving Darny with her.
‘Look, Aunt Jessica
said she’d be happy to take Darny …’
‘What?’ said Issy, exasperated. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me and Darny. He’s fine. Don’t worry about us.’
‘I’m not worried,’ said Austin, as a yellow taxi cab honked loudly at him for having the temerity to pause before crossing the road. ‘I was just saying. You know. It’s an option.’
‘I’m coming home every night after a full day’s work and managing to check his homework and make his supper. I think it’s fine. I don’t think I need options, do you?’
‘No, no, you’re doing brilliantly.’
Austin wondered just when this conversation had started to drift out of his grasp so badly.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to …’
His phone was beeping. Another call was coming in.
‘Listen, I have to go,’ he said. ‘I’ll call you later.’
‘I’ll be in bed,’ said Issy, sounding more huffy than she meant to. ‘We can speak tomorrow.’
‘OK … all right.’
Issy felt alarmingly frustrated when she hung up the phone. They hadn’t managed to talk at all, not about anything proper, and she’d no idea what he was up to or how it was going, apart from the definite sense she’d got from talking to him that he was having a really good time.
She told herself she was
being stupid; this was a big fuss about nothing. She was getting all wound up for no reason. Her last boyfriend had been very emotionally distant, and had treated her like dirt, so she was finding her new relationship sometimes very difficult to manage. With Graeme, she couldn’t say anything at all or he would coldly close up; she knew Austin was very very different, but wasn’t sure exactly how far she could go. Men – no, not just men, everybody – shied away from neediness. She didn’t want to look needy. She wanted to be warm, casual, breezy, reminding him that they were building a loving home, not defensive and shrewlike.
Issy sighed and looked back down at the fruit she was mixing.
‘No,’ she said, feeling a bit self-conscious and daft. ‘You can’t have negative thoughts when you’re making the Christmas cake. It’s unlucky. DARNY!’ she hollered up the stairs. ‘Do you want to come and drop twenty pees in the cake mix?’
‘Can it be two-pound coins?’
‘NO!’
Austin sighed. He didn’t want to worry Issy, but sometimes it was easy to do. He’d been called in just before he left. Kirsty Dubose, the primary headmistress, had always been very soft on Darny in the past, knowing his background. Plus, unbeknown to Austin, she had had the most enormous crush on him. Mrs Baedeker, Darny’s new head at secondary, had absolutely no such qualms. And Darny’s behaviour really was appalling.
‘We’re looking at what
you might call a last-chance situation,’ Mrs Baedeker had barked at Austin, who sometimes found it difficult in school situations to remember he was meant to be a grown-up.
‘For answering back?’ protested Austin.
‘For persistent class-disrupting insubordination,’ Mrs Baedeker said.
Austin’s lips had twitched.
‘It’s not funny,’ she added. ‘It’s stopping others from learning. And let me tell you this. Darny Tyler might be clever and sharp and well-read and all the rest of it, and he may well turn out noisy and fine and all right.’ She hit the desk with her palm to make her point. ‘But there are a lot of kids at this school who don’t have what Darny’s got, and do need good teaching and organised lessons and proper discipline, and he’s stopping that process from happening and it’s not right and not welcome in my school.’
That had shut Austin up very quickly indeed. He’d put Mrs Baedeker’s argument forcibly to Darny that evening, and Darny had argued back, equally forcibly, that formal examinations were a total waste of everybody’s time so it hardly mattered either way, that those kids kept trying to set him on fire at playtime so it was righteous vengeance, and surely critical thinking was an important part of education.
Issy had hidden in the kitchen and made a smoked haddock quiche. But Austin found it hard to worry about Issy and Darny at the same time, and his thoughts at that moment were with his brother, even as Issy was thinking endlessly of him.
Chapter Four
Perfect Christmas Cake
I make no apologies for
this, wrote Issy in her recipe book for the extra staff she liked to think she would employ one day. It was a tradition her grampa had started, and she was determined to continue with it; she had kept all his hand-written recipes and her friends had bound them for her into a book. She never, ever let herself think about perhaps one day having a daughter to pass it on to. That would never do. And anyway, she thought, if she did have a daughter, she’d probably be just like Marian and only eat mung beans and run off travelling and send mysterious postcards and interrupt crackly Skype conversations with long, involved stories about people Issy didn’t know. Regardless.
Most recipes I tend to tweak and move around to suit what I like, in the hope that my customers will like them too. I’m not fond of anything too fiddly, or overly fancy, and if I’m looking at American recipes I know they’ll probably be too sweet for British people, while French recipes probably won’t be sweet enough. So all of that is fine, but this is different. This is one of those occasions where a recipe has been written that can’t be bettered. Some people may do fancy things with whole oranges or surprises or various bits of malarkey, but this, as it stands, is one of the best, most reliable recipes ever written. It doesn’t matter if you’ve never baked before in your life. You can make a wonderful, wonderful Christmas cake, and it’s by St Delia Smith.
Although Delia isn’t officially
a saint quite yet, and fortunately for everyone still alive and well, it will, one day, be a mere formality down at the Vatican. No one has made cooking so clear, and no one is quite as successful. Whilst we all know – naming no names – famous chefs who say their dinner takes half an hour when it takes all afternoon and some crying, or who leave ingredients out altogether because they are too busy tossing their hair, Delia can always be relied upon, and rarely more so than here. Do what she says – exactly what she says, neither more nor less – and a lovely Christmas cake will be yours. Not to mention the smell of your kitchen as you make it. You should do it ideally by the end of November to give it a few weeks to ripen, and if I were to make one change it would be to add a little more brandy, but that is completely up to you.
The Classic Christmas Cake
By Delia Smith
This, with no apologies, is
a Christmas cake that has been in print since 1978, has been made and loved by thousands and is, along with the Traditional Christmas Pudding, one of the most popular recipes I’ve produced. It is rich, dark and quite moist, so will not suit those who like a crumblier texture. Recently we took some of these cakes along to book-signing sessions up and down the country and were quite amazed to see so many people take a mouthful and then buy a book!
1lb (450g) currants
603 (175g) sultanas
603 (175g) raisins
203 (50g) glacé cherries, rinsed, dried and finely chopped
203 (50g) mixed candied peel, finely chopped
3 tablespoons brandy,
plus extra for ‘feeding’
80z (225g) plain flour
½ level teaspoon salt
¼ level teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
½ level teaspoon ground mixed spice
803 (225g) unsalted butter
803 (225g) soft brown sugar
4 large eggs
203 (50g) almonds, chopped (the skins can be left on)
1 level dessertspoon black treacle
grated zest 1 lemon
grated zest 1 orange
403 (110g) whole blanched almonds (only if you don’t intend to ice the cake
You will also need an 8 inch (20cm) round cake tin or a 7 inch (18cm) square tin, greased and lined with silicone paper (baking parchment). Tie a band of brown paper round the outside of the tin for extra protection.
You need to begin this cake the night before you want to bake it. All you do is weigh out the dried fruit and mixed peel, place it in a mixing bowl and mix in the brandy as evenly and thoroughly as possible. Cover the bowl with a clean tea cloth and leave the fruit aside to absorb the brandy for 12 hours.
Next day pre-heat the
oven to gas mark 1, 275°F (140°C). Then measure out all the rest of the ingredients, ticking them off to make quite sure they’re all there. The treacle will be easier to measure if you remove the lid and place the tin in a small pan of barely simmering water. Now begin the cake by sifting the flour, salt and spices into a large mixing bowl, lifting the sieve up high to give the flour a good airing. Next, in a separate large mixing bowl, whisk the butter and sugar together until it’s light, pale and fluffy. Now beat the eggs in a separate bowl and add them to the creamed mixture a tablespoonful at a time; keep the whisk running until all the egg is incorporated. If you add the eggs slowly by degrees like this the mixture won’t curdle. If it does, don’t worry, any cake full of such beautiful things can’t fail to taste good!
When all the egg has been added, fold in the flour and spices, using gentle, folding movements and not beating at all (this is to keep all that precious air in). Now fold in the fruit, peel, chopped nuts and treacle and finally the grated lemon and orange zests. Next, using a large kitchen spoon, transfer the cake mixture into the prepared tin, spread it out evenly with the back of a spoon and, if you don’t intend to ice the cake, lightly drop the whole blanched almonds in circles or squares all over the surface. Finally cover the top of the cake with a double square of silicone paper with a 50p-size hole in the centre (this gives extra protection during the long slow cooking).
Bake the cake on the
lowest shelf of the oven for 4½–4¾ hours. Sometimes it can take up to 4½–¾ hour longer than this, but in any case don’t look till at least 4 hours have passed. Cool the cake for 30 minutes in the tin, then remove it to a wire rack to finish cooling. When it’s cold, ‘feed’ it – make small holes in the top and base of the cake with a cocktail stick or small skewer, then spoon over a few teaspoons of brandy, wrap it in double silicone paper secured with an elastic band and either wrap again in foil or store in an airtight container. You can now feed it at odd intervals until you need to ice or eat it.