Recipe: Ginger Parkin
Introduction
An old classic, no I’m not talking about myself.
In part, driven by a desire to preserve near-historical
artifacts, something that I’d like to visit on this blog is uploading some old
favourite recipes that have been accumulated over time.
My mother has a book, that appears to have been born in the land
before time, within which, is a collection of recipes collated over time.
I’ve been informed the book started life, with Auntie Xene, I
assume I've spelled that correctly, albeit vaguely, apparently a shortened Alexandrina,
a new name to me. She was my grandmother’s auntie, meaning that this dates back
a long time. I’ve been told to picture the most stereotypical little old lady.
When my sister and I used to get home from school on a
Friday, which was literally around the corner, often there would be a home
cooked project that we could sniff the identity of when entering the house.
Often the food we received was from said ancient tomb. I don’t
think we’ve scratched the surface of what’s in there, but there’s definitely
some corkers.
Being an old, handwritten book passed down by my grandmother,
it goes without saying that the content revolves around classic traditional
English dishes.
This week we’ve going to being out documentational endeavour
with Ginger Parkin, one of the family favourites from the book.
Ginger Parkin isn’t only delicious and light, its also
interesting that in times gone by, I wouldn’t have thought about spices having
any prevalence in an olde pudding. I wonder if perhaps when spice was lesser available
that it may have been a treat in a more occasional treat.
I won’t take credit for the most recent creation, I’m not
sure I’ve ever made Ginger Parkin, it’s my mum’s dish; what you see
immortalised by photo is her efforts.
I might be in trouble for saying, but not inaccurate, a
certain mother has her share of kitchen faux pas, but to my knowledge, this one
has never failed.
This isn’t a difficult recipe to follow, so its great for any
level of ability in the kitchen, guaranteed to provide a warm smile, especially
when paired with a freshly brewed cuppa.
There are many flaws with the internet, and perhaps more so
its inhabitants, but in this little corner, I imagine the little old Xene may
enjoy scrolling through some old memories from her old cookbook.
Fortunately, this recipe was inserted by my mother, but as we
go forward a degree of translation is required, not because of some other
language, but because English standards of handwriting have changed somewhat, although
not illegible, tis rather curlier that a modern counterpart.
Ingredients
As with a lot of the recipes in the book measurements, and
in old language, but I’m nice. I’ve converted them into grams for you also.
Bear in mind you’re making a pudding or light cake, where
precision isn’t quite as demanding Feel free to round the metric measurements
slightly if that’s easier.
- 8 oz (227 grams) Self Raising Flour
- 4 oz (113 grams) Margarine or Softened Butter
- 8 oz (227 grams) Golden Syrup
- 3 oz (85 grams) Soft Dark Brown Sugar
- 1 tsp Bicarbonate of Soda
- 2 tsp Ginger (increased from the original recipe)
- ¼ pint (118 millilitres) Milk
Recipe
- Add the dry ingredients to a mixing bowl.
- Melt margarine/butter in the milk over a low temperature, do not boil.
- Add the warmed butter and milk mixture to the dry ingredients, along with the golden syrup.
- Beat the mixture thoroughly.
- Pour mixture into a lined baking tray, my mother uses a flat tray, I’d probably go more along the lines of a brownie pan, either will work.
- Bake in an oven preheated to 180 °C (Gas Mark 4), for 30 minutes.
- The Ginger Parkin is done when it springs back with a light touch and a skewer/knife comes out cleanly when inserted.
- Cool on a rack, feel free to eat some before it goes completely cold, depending on if it’s a snack or a warm pudding with custard.
Conclusion
A post on the shorter side this week, but the start of a
hopefully enjoyable delve into the culinary delights of a world gone by.
Ginger Parkin is something I remember from my childhood, and
it’s a great motivational creation, because its so forgiving.
Give it a go and enjoy!