Today Dear Readers is the tale of a disaster. No, not this past weekend’s supposed Rapture that never was but The Bienenstich cake disaster to be specific. Oh I had all sorts of mighty plans of conquering the world with this or just bringing this to someone’s birthday (who shall remain nameless because I don’t want them to ask me where their cake was). But fate decided that it was not to be.

A former boss had once commended my cool under pressure during a meeting to one of my assistants. She likened me to a swan peddling furiously under water while staying calm on the surface. Whilst this was nice, this was not my usual modus operandi. If I am in crisis I let people know! I am not the graceful swan but that clucking chicken running around.  And this is one of those instances.

Beinenstich or bee sting cake is a German cake that I first encountered in the Barossa Valley of South Australia. Smitten with this gorgeous soft briochey type of bread filled with custard and topped with buttery sugared almonds I knew it was only a matter of time before I tried to duplicate it at home. Little did I anticipate that it would all turn to custard-literally.

The custard in the centre is a gorgeously sweet and thick concoction. In fact from looking at the ingredients, you pretty much have the same custard as the stuff that fills those amazing Portuguese custard tarts. All I had to do was whip a little butter and then whip the custard and whipped butter together and I would have the custard buttercream of my dreams. Or so I thought.

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Mr NQN and I were shopping the other day. Well more correctly I was dragging him along to the shops and he was dragging his heels. He is usually fine as long as there’s a comfortable place for him to sit and an internet connection but there wasn’t in this case. I told him that if I had my own shop I would make sure that the bored menfolk would have their very own lounge and internet connection so that we could shop in peace. There would be a buzzer system where we could summon them to the changeroom for their opinion when needed.

“So, what would you call your shop?” he asked me.

“Hmmm….something about owls. The name Hooters is obviously out” I quickly added.

“And what would you sell?”

I started to get excited “Well I’m glad that you asked because I’ve thought about it! Of course I’d put some taxidermied owls in the window or other forest creatures. Or if I could I could have real owls but perhaps the local council wouldn’t like that unless they were Harry Potter fans. I’d sell things that I find interesting…like that.”

I pointed at a window. We were in the Blue Mountains over Easter and we had stopped in front of a shop with a window full of waving Queen Elizabeth II statuettes. The figurines were solar powered and upon closer inspection the solar panel sat on top of her handbag. It was fabulous and I knew just who I would buy it for. And before I would give it to them she would figure in my Queen Elizabeth II pudding recipe photo.

Peter Morgan-Jones

Yes this pudding recipe is Queen Elizabeth II’s very own recipe. And how did I get a hold of it? Well I was lucky enough to meet chef Peter Morgan-Jones who worked for Buckingham Palace a few years ago. I was at a lunch hosted by the Trippas White group who cater for the Art Gallery Restaurant, the Botanic Gardens restaurant and 360 Bar & Dining among several others. Peter is the group executive chef across all of the restaurants. He is a quietly spoken, lovely man and when the talk turned to the upcoming royal wedding, he mentioned that he used to work at Buckingham Palace and that he had the Queen’s Christmas Pudding recipe. Excitedly I asked him if he could share it and he told me that he could! Fascinated I read through the recipe. There was no month long steeping of fruit but there was stout, suet and grated carrot and apple.

Peter Morgan-Jones in a palace kitchen on the right

I must admit that I find the whole concept of royalty fascinating. And while I’m not vehemently pro or against I put them in the same category as celebrities. If I like what they say or do I like them but if they don’t then I don’t like them and I don’t take take a general stance on them. But I am absolutely fascinated in taking a peek into their world. What do they eat? Are they like the rest of us? And it seems I had met someone that could tell me all about them from a food perspective which is just what I was interested in!

Peter was a royal caterer for five years and he spent time working at Buckingham Palace , Windsor castle , Highgrove & Kensington Palace (for Charles and Diana), Clarence house (for the Queen mum) and Gatcombe park (Princess Anne). He also ran the Buckingham palace garden parties which were affairs with 8,000 guests and “We used to make 16,000 sandwiches and serve 10,000 cups of tea.” And what were each of their tastes like?

The Buckingham Palace kitchen-note the stag!

Well according to Peter, Charles eats organic fare from his estate at Highgrove. He didn’t eat red meat but occasionally would eat poultry and fish and Princess Diana would eat the same. The Queen and Queen Mum both loved traditional fare e.g. roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. For breakfast she would eat wholemeal toast (dry, from what he saw) and porridge. Her husband the Duke of Edinburgh (Prince Philip) was partial to game with Peter cooking at many pheasant shoots on their shooting estate in Tetbury, Gloucestershire. Peter would also cook for Prince Charles when he would entertain at Highgrove. Charles would host barbecues for all his farming land renters (Duchy of Cornwall) which would feature beef burgers, sausages , lamb brochettes , salmon kebabs, salads  and bread. See, they’re just like us! Well not really

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I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on recent conversation between Mr NQN and his brother. Mr NQN had his brother on speakerphone so I couldn’t avoid the conversation really. It was conducted at a leisurely pace with pauses and stops filled with sibling or familial comfort.

Mr NQN: So… yeah no yeah…

The Assman: Yeah…

Mr NQN: So yeah… when you going kiteing next?

The Assman: Yeah umm I dunno…

Mr NQN: Yeah…

Whereas a recent conversation with my friend and I was a completely different matter. It happened at a frantic warp speed and was conducted at a jerky staccato pace with several outbursts and exclaims.

Me: What did you eat today?

Friend: Don’t hate me but I tried one of those croissants at that bakery that we were meant to go…

Me: Oh you didn’t wait for me!

Friend: I know, but I ate one for you! I have to tell you all about it too…

Me: OK ok so how was it? Was it as buttery and as amazing as you dreamed of? And were they like pastries in Paris? Tell me e v e r y t h i n g…

The cake without legs

No wonder Mr NQN likes his moments of silence. I could talk myself hoarse on the subject of food while he is a man of very few words and dare I say the disparate levels of conversation observed might be the perfect example of the gender divide. One area that we both agreed upon however was this cake. Certainly it was girly, there’s no doubt about it but like the can-can it has a broader gender appeal. For the can-can, there are the physical demands of the dance but there is also the slight erotic appeal of skirts flipping skywards-probably moreso when it was invented in the 1820′s. Dancers used to wear contrasting black stockings and some were so adept at the can-can that they could dance near a patron and with a well placed and timed kick, knock off their hat.

When I first saw this ruffle cake from the queen of ideas Martha Stewart I was instantly smitten. She uses a lemon cake in the centre and creates an effect with a two toned icing. The first thing I thought of were those voluminous layers of skirts with the can-can dance and remembering the Alice in Wonderland class at Planet Cake last year I decided to do a can-can cake in a celebratory strawberries and champagne flavour inspired by cooklikeachampion.

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