Postcard from My Kitchen
This postcard is for you. Wishing you were here next to me in the kitchen, talking
about every thing and nothing at all. Laughing, giggling till the tears run
from our eyes. Sometimes shedding
real tears of anguish … or just moaning.
Or else we could be in your kitchen. With the baby crawling on the
yet-to-be-cleaned floor. Dinner
gently simmering on the stove top.
Perhaps a bit giddy from trying to finish last night’s leftover red
wine.
As I close my eyes, I see each one of you. A friend in time of need, of hope, of
joy, of merely passing away the time in the company of someone with whom one is
completely at ease. No invitation
required here. Just ring the bell
and walk in. Always welcome – day
or night.
I miss the kind of friendship that goes beyond scheduled dinners
and lunches or coffee mornings.
I miss the kind of friendship that transcends the Facebook
variety. In my book, a friend is
someone who is comfortable enough to call and say, I had a bad day, do you have time to talk or come over? I really need a
hug.
In my book, a friend is someone confident enough to share
the great news of a new job or a new beau knowing that even happiness can be
shared. Empathy is not only for
the things that go wrong. It is
also for the things that go right.
In my book, a friend is someone with whom one can share
simple pleasures like watching back-to-back episodes of Brothers and Sisters,
eating popcorn and sipping ice cold coke. Feeling like a couple of school girls
cutting class, leaving plates unwashed on the kitchen sink and the husband’s
un-ironed shirts in the laundry basket.
Perhaps as we grow older we have forgotten how easy
friendship can really be. We have
become encumbered by adult-inspired barriers such as political correctness,
propriety and personal space. We find it harder to be spontaneous and to be
truly honest. We are no longer
able to just walk over to a friend’s house, because well… I have time today. Or
pick up the phone and say ... hey, I miss
you, want to have a cup of tea?
The postcard above is for all of you who have shared my
kitchen table or in whose kitchen I have ever sat in (living room couches count as
well!); called on the phone or skyped; exchanged copious emails with; or even worst, suffered through my
barely discernible handwriting.
There is a chair in my kitchen waiting for you to fill. The one in my heart you already have.
Ingredients
250
g/ 1 cup butter, at room temperature
1
½ cup sugar
1
1/2 tsp finely grated orange zest (about 2 oranges)
- 250 g/ 2 cups self raising flour
- or 2 cups plain flour + 3 teaspoons baking powder
+1/2
teaspoon salt
85
ml/ ¼ cup freshly squeezed orange juice
(Optional) For the icing:
125
g icing sugar
5
tsp freshly squeezed orange juice
Procedure
1.
Preheat the oven to 170C. Lay the paper cupcake molds on the tin
cupcake trays or in the silicon containers. If you are not using cupcake paper, generously grease the
cupcake tins. Silicon containers
do not need to be greased.
2.
Using an electric whisk, cream the butter
and sugar together for 4-5 minutes until very pale. Beat in the eggs, one at a
time, beating very well between each one, if necessary adding a spoonful of
flour (or flour mixture) with the last egg to prevent the mixture from
curdling. Beat in the orange zest. Add the flour all at once and mix in well,
then slowly mix in the orange juice.
3.
Spoon the mixture into the prepared tins and
bake in the oven for 15-20 minutes or until a skewer, inserted into the center
of the cake, comes out clean.
Optional
- For the icing, sift the icing
sugar into a bowl and stir in the orange juice until you have a spreadable
consistency. Spread it over the top of the cupcakes.
The recipe above is for at least 12 normal cupcakes. But you can use the same recipe for mini-cupcakes. They will cook between 10-15 minutes.
These cupcakes can be frozen, thawed and served when unexpected friends come to visit!!
These cupcakes can be frozen, thawed and served when unexpected friends come to visit!!