The kitchen is my war zone, I like to think that I know what’s happening at every corner. Whenever my partner enters the kitchen he insists that it’s unsafe practice to leave kitchen towels on top of the stove, just in case one of the elements was on. I agree, it’s a fire hazard but I’m like a cocky arrogant Napoleon Bonaparte. I would know if the stove was left on, I would sense it.

Danger comes with the kitchen, baby.

Kim from Cupcakes and Mace blogged on how she burnt her hand to test the stove element. I can relate. Kitchen scars = battle scars. I wave my hand over the stove to check if it’s hot enough. I always put my hands too far into the oven and my arms have got those parallel baking tray scars to prove it. To me, it’s part of the territory. If I’m completely honest, I’m a little bit proud of the little dinks in my fingers.

The way I figure it, if you’re in a place where you’re playing with knives and heat, you’re bound to get hurt. But I agree with Kim, testing the stove element with your bare palm is never a good idea. But she was tired and stressed, these things happen.

Maybe we should all be like Tom Hanks in the Castaway. Whenever we turn the stove on we should scream “Fire! I made fire!”. It could keep us awake and remind us that fire is something that is kinda, a big deal.

ANZAC day is today in the States and was celebrated yesterday in Australia. Traditionally it’s a public holiday to remember the Australian and New Zealand troops that fought in World War I. There are two things you can count on in Australia this weekend. The first is a BBQ with beer, the second is a serving of ANZAC biscuits.

The bikkies were originally made so that they could survive the long sea trip over to the Australian and New Zealand troops without going stale but don’t assume they’ll be dry and tasteless because of it. Sweetened coconut and crunchy oats keep this biscuit alive and the flavour of butter tickles the tastebuds. For all the rebels out there, you could sultanas (raisins).

Gather for your soldiers:

• 1 cup flour
• 1 cup porridge (rolled oats) uncooked
• 1 cup desiccated coconut (if you can only find sweetend, like I could in my local D.C store, only use 3/4 cup of sugar in the mix)
• 1 cup brown sugar
• 1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
• 2 tbs golden syrup (ok, honey will do)
• 1 tsp bicarb soda (baking soda)
• 2 tb boiling water, straight from the kettle
• Pinch of salt

1. Grease a baking tray and preheat your oven to 180 C / 350 F.
2. Sift the flour into a medium bowl, add the porridge, coconut and sugar and mix well with a wooden spoon.
3. Melt the butter and honey in a small saucepan over low hear.
4. Mix the bicarb soda with the hot water. Watch it fizzle. Add to the butter and honey. The quicker you mix, the more bubbles you’ll see, which is always cool.
5. Pour the warm liquid into the dry ingredients and mix until everything is combined. Don’t stress if it looks really dry and isn’t forming a dough. Add sultanas or anything else you want in there.
6. Using your hands, make little compact balls with the dough, about the size of a tablespoon and press them onto the tray, leaving 4 cm gaps between the biscuits.
7. Bake on the top shelf of your oven for 10 minutes. Check at 8 minutes, your oven might be hotter or cooler and I don’t want it to burn.
8. When they’re slightly brown, take them out of the oven and carefully transfer onto a wire rack. They’re going to be crumbly and delicate so be gentle.
9. Store in an airtight container. Serve with a glass of milk, or if you want to be really Aussie, a cold hard beer.

If you know someone who doesn’t like overtly sweet baked goods, this is the thing to make them. Mixing the sugar in at the last minute ensures that the muffins have a crunchy, crisp outside with a cinnamon scented scone inside.

This is a very slip slop mix it all together kind of batter until the last five minutes. But once you add the blueberries you have to treat this with love otherwise the whole batter turns blue and not that many people will eat it.

Once baked, this is on the verge of savoury, I’ve been eating them with unsalted butter.

• 3 cups plain flour
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 & 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1 1/4 cups milk
• 2 extra large eggs, slightly beaten with a fork
• 225 gm unsalted butter, melted
• 1 1/2 cup sugar
• 1 cup fresh blueberries
• Diced strawberries or raspberries if you like them.

1. Preheat oven to 190 C/375 F. Line a 12 holes muffin tray with paper liners.
2. Put the butter in a medium bowl and blast in the microwave until melted.
3. Sift the flour, baking powder, salt, cinnamon and baking soda together in a fairly large bowl. Stir with a wooden spoon to combine.
4. Mix the milk and eggs with the melted butter. Make a well in the middle of the dry mixture and pour the wet mixture in.
5. Stir until just combined. Lumps are all good. Add the sugar until it’s well mixes.
6. Add the berries and fold them in very gently. Don’t over mix unless you want to look like Violet.
7. Spoon the batter into the muffin liners and bake for 20 – 25 minutes. Check with a skewer to make sure it’s cooked all the way through. If it comes out clean, you’re good to take the muffins out and let them cool.

This is adapted from the wonderful Ina Garten’s cookbook, barefoot contessa at home.

Emma, 23, lives in Perth, Australia and has a gift for baking cupcakes, compiling daily outfits and sending funny tweets. She has a cute (very pink) blog and I’m glad that I know her over this sprawling, confusing web.

Lately she’s been feeling a bit down so close to her birthday, so send her some love at Lick My Cupcakes.

Here’s her shopping list and if you don’t know what I’m talking about read The Mystery of the Shopping List.

Is that a pink keyboard?

Hong Kong’s Disneyland was surreal. I spent the longest time photographing all of the fake cakes, with their perfect pastel icing and disturbingly universal proportions.

If you have a fake food you love, send to tash[at]littleflutters.com

Bread is an amazing thing to make; the magic of mixing flour and water, the anticipation waiting for the yeast to rise and the wonderful smell that fills the home as it cooks in the oven. Some things are just as good as running the heater after a cold walk. Here’s five easy to follow steps and a chance to punch the shit out of something inanimate, twice.

• 500 grams bread flour
• 315 mls warm water
• 10g yeast
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• 2 teaspoons fine salt
• extra flour and water

1. Pile the flour onto a clean surface. I just give my tabletop a quick wipe down, dry it off and then plonk everything down. If you want to be a neat freak you can put some baking paper down first. Add half of the water then add the yeast, sugar and salt on top and slowly mix it in with a fork. Make a very deep well in the flour and ensure the walls of the well are strong, otherwise, like me, water will leak everywhere and drip onto the floor. I’m all class.
2. When it looks like porridge, add the rest of the water and when it’s mixed in well, start pushing and pulling the sticky dough with your hands. If it’s a bit dry, add a splash of water and keep on kneading. If it’s too wet, add a touch of flour. Put your whole body into it. Play some loud, fast music and knead. Sing along and head bang a little. When the dough comes away from your hands, you know it’s perfect.
   
3. Sprinkle with flour, put it in a glass bowl and cover with cling wrap. Put it on top of the fridge for 40 minutes if it’s cold and dry. If it’s warm, it’ll be ready in half an hour. Don’t clean up, relish the mess you’re making.
4. Take the bowl off the fridge and out turn it onto your floured surface. Punch that dough down like there’s no tomorrow for 30 seconds. Again, loud music helps. Place the dough onto the flour-dusted container or tray you want to cook your bread in/on. Wait until it’s doubled it’s size again, the air that’s making it’s way into the dough will make the bread soft and light later on. Be patient. Use this time to clean up the mess you made and to preheat your oven to 230 Celsius/445 Fahrenheit.
5. Gently place your dough onto the middle rack of your oven and close the door very, very slowly so you don’t add any more cold air than is necessary. Check in 25 minutes and if it looks ok, tap the bottom of the bread. If it sounds hollow then it’s cooked. If not, put it back in and check in eight minute intervals. Once done, place on a wire rack and leave it to cool for 30 minutes.

This recipe is adapted from the wonderful Jamie Oliver.