chocolate Guinness cake redux

Nothing is too much trouble. I've provided a chocolate Guinness cake recipe for you in the past, but it occurs to me that some of you can't attempt it as you may have inadvertently eaten all the dark chocolate in the baking cupboard, just as I did, and are worried about what to serve to the visitors.

How about Nigella's version, made with heaps of cocoa and some sour cream instead of chocolate and just as darkly impressive. Her recipe is here. I've kindly tested it for you and it turns out splendidly.

It doesn't really need icing, but I added some anyhow to entertain the troops.

[The week was worthy of celebratory cake. Lovely Maria of Vintage Simple mentioned me (me, ME! all by myself) as one of seven things about her. How about that? It's up there with when I met Salman Rushdie, or when Yvonne from Yvestown commented on one of my posts. I'm practising flicking my hair modestly away from my face. Brag Brag Brag.]

the Cath Kidston spell

I am a woman of constant sorrow; I've seen trouble all my days. Cath Kidston no longer stocks the suitcase I'd like to own. It seems to be available in Japan, but I speak no Japanese and am reluctant to dignify my whim with currency conversion.

The latest Kidston catalogue appeared through my door recently, and it wasn't called a catalogue at all, but rather a magazine, so I lowered my defences and read it, and ended up buying some pretty things so that our household may take part in outdoor music festivals and 'Best Dressed in the Air-Raid Shelter' competitions.

[Images: Cath Kidston]

I didn't buy the striped blanket, and regret it. "I'll knit one of those!" I said airily to myself, but I shan't really. And now I see that it's described as 'ticking stripe', not just 'stripe', my loss is even greater. 'Ticking' is one of those magic buy triggers, and it doubles prices. But I don't care; these are the people who brought us mono rose. They deserve our money.

on the happy train

Award buffs, please note that this post starts with "Award buffs, please note" because I've been catching up with the glossy magazines lately and am steeped in magazine-speak, which seems entirely appropriate for today's post.

Thanks to kind awards from Heather at A Day in the Country, Jacqueline at Home, Meredith at Count it all Joy, Suzi at Made by Suzi, Jesse at Good Girl Gone Glad and Catherine at Kids and Capers, towering figures on the blogging circuit, here is a glimpse of my fabulous lifestyle.

The brief is to state several facts about me, or things that make me happy, or somesuch. So let's launch into things that make me happy. FIVE of them.

ONE: order, so calming and so hard-won. When the children are older, perhaps the imaginary assistant and I shan't have to spend so much time putting things back where they belong.

TWO: the rowdies, despite number one.


THREE: being licensed to drive. This was belatedly accomplished a few years ago (to facilitate rural living) after decades of taking taxis, so I'm proud of it, although still wary of speed, roundabouts, overtaking, car-parks and low-flying birds.

FOUR: I am Une Very Stylish Fille, by Dimitri from Paris. Because I am. Don't argue now.

FIVE: the facade of those glossy magazines, full of shoes I won't wear and exciting opportunities to help the large Indulgence Emporia finance the advertising of their incomparable face creams. And indeed I occasionally buy such face creams, deviating from the more sensible and equally lovely Harebell Herbs. Because the 300% brand surcharge is the tax one must pay on being une very stylish fille.

Who to tag? Paula of Mabel and Violet, Alek of From the Right Bank, Lorna of Garrendenny Lane, Stan of Sentence First, Shell of Shell Sherree, Maria of Vintage Simple and those other people I've tagged before who have been slow to step up to the line and dish out the facts. Imaginative excuses will also suffice.

(happy birthday, dear Jacqueline)

[Image from Home]

Happy birthday to Jacqueline, friend and companionable commentator to bloggers everywhere.

blogging meet photos

No one can say I haven't joined in with this blogging business wholeheartedly. Tags, guest posts, informal polls, giveaways: you've seen them all here, even when I had to skip the sorbet course or the petits fours to make time for posting.

To my dismay, another blogging phenomenon has now appeared on my radar: Blogger Meets. It's hard work, as many of you will be aware, to run a parallel world, and mine is so busy that I can hardly leave it unattended while I pile on the pearls and Gucci and head off to exquisite hotels to take tea with lovely like-minded bloggers and Thomas Pynchon. So I'll have to concoct a meet to keep up with the blogging Joneses.

I'll need the following for my Semblance:

• a photo of you looking delighted to be present
• a photo of you looking admiringly at my hat (assume a seated pose, I can photoshop in me and my hat)
• a photo of you laughing lightly at something I (just out of shot) have said to you
• a photo of you pointing at the aforementioned Gucci labels on my clothing and nodding knowledgeably as though to say, "yes, definitely the real thing, and this season's!"
• a photo of you in expensive sunglasses about to leave through a magnificent gilt door
• a quote from you about how lovely it was to finally meet me, and how we discovered that we share a love of lime green and tile adhesive.

I'll reciprocate in kind, of course, for your own Semblance of a Meet. Thanks, I sure do appreciate your help.

Talent for Haiti auction

I've already mentioned Talent for Haiti, who will be running their online auction this week. All proceeds will go to Médecins Sans Frontières. Here are some of the many items contributed so far.

[Glen Hansard and Mark Geary in New York, by Paddy Glennon]

How about this for a gala item: Mark Geary and Glen Hansard in concert in your own home. It's stipulated that the home should be no more than two hours from Dublin, so despite the new motorway I don't quite qualify. Otherwise I'd be belting out "you see how hard it can be to keep your side of the deal" and "did I watch you wash away your life and polish up the forks and knifes" all week in readiness. You can already bid on the concert here.

A cotton Cashmere hand-loomed coat donated by Edmund McNulty.

Some Peter O'Brien illustrations

Lovely accessories from Fen and Ned

Keep in touch with the donations and the auction here:

Talent for Haiti blog

Talent for Haiti on Facebook.

[All images via Talent for Haiti]

standing my fairy cakes

Look what the Internet can do to you. There was I harmlessly admiring casapinka's art class birthday cake, when I suddenly felt a yearning for a new cake stand. I suspect that I've been seeing cake stand images here and there for a while, and this was the one that clicked me into consumerism. More cake stands! A collection of cake stands! An armoire in which to display them!

[Pottery Barn]

Well, you know how it is with Internet shopping. A few minutes of busy googling later I'd moved beyond ordinary cake stands (so common) to individual fairy cake* stands. With glass domes, no less, or cloches, as I learned to call them.

(*America, a 'fairy cake' is what we call a cupcake.)

[Sur la table]

Aren't they rather beguiling? And also suitable for cheese.

I like to think that one day the Blogmobile, a giant floral camper van, conceived in Saudi Arabia, upholstered in ticking with a lace filigree trim, will draw up outside my door and all the commentators will pour in for afternoon tea in a thrilling flurry of hats and fabric samples, trailing statement sleeves and exquisite perfume. We'll sit round my table chatting lightly of arthouse films and chandeliers and how nice our hairstyles are, a perfect fairy cake on its stand in front of each guest.

[Farmhouse Wares]

Please don't call around just yet, though, as none of the online retailers I found is in Ireland and my fairy cakes remain unstood.