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Golden Globes

When I was at the university me and my friends used to make a big night of watching any film awards, especially the Oscars.

We used to dress up like we were going to walk the red carpet, make some food and drinks (we couldn’t really afford champagne back then, so usually we settled for sparkling wine). And we used to watch the awards all night till early hours. We had so much fun doing that every year. Usually we were talking over it most of the time but I treasure moments of making fun of some of the speaches, coming up with the phrases we used later over and over again (‘Andrew, how lovely to see you from so far away’ – Oscars 2000)…Me falling of the chair when I heard the Award went to someone who in my opinion didn’t deserve it….Aaah, memories…

When I moved to UK we tried to keep up with the tradition and in my first year I watched it with a group of new friends and commenting on the whole thing with my friends in Poland via Skype or text messages. But then it all changed. It just wasn’t the same, we were all working so we couldn’t really stay up all Sunday night.

So this year I decided to bring tradition back and make the night out of the Gloden Globes (especially that I didn’t have to go to work next day).

Drinks were flowing, snacks were prepared – crostinis, popcorn, roasted nuts, macaroons and creme de la creme – orange cupcakes with chocolate and orange icing.

popcorn

popcorn bags

table setting - gold theme

table setting - gold theme

setting the scene

setting the scene

macaroons

macaroons

house decorations

house decorations

table setting

crostini

crostini

orange and chocolate cupcakes

orange and chocolate cupcakes

Orange and chocolate cupcakes

  • 150 grams  unsalted butter, room temperature
  • 1 cup sugar
  • 5 extra-large eggs at room temperature
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons orange extract
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons orange zest
  • 3 cups flour
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 cup buttermilk

For the frosting:

200 grams of dark chocolate, 200 of double cream, 1 tablespoon of orange extract

Preheat the oven to 180 C

Using mixer, cream the butter and sugar on high speed until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. With the mixer on low speed, add the eggs, 1 at a time, scraping down the bowl after each addition. Add the orange extracts and zest and mix well.

In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. In 3 parts, alternately add the dry ingredients and the buttermilk to the batter, beginning and ending with the dry. Mix until just combined.

Line a muffin pan with paper liners. Fill each liner with batter. Bake for 25 to 35 minutes, until the tops are brown and a toothpick comes out clean. Allow to cool in the pan for 15 minutes. Remove to cool completely.

For the icing, temper chocolate, mix with cream and orange extract, cool slightly and when it starts setting, pipe onto your cupcakes or using palette knife spread on your cupcakes.

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About potatofaces

People who cook always go on about precious memories of childhood food one of their family members cooked, how daddy or nanny taught them the importance of cooking and eating together, and they still remember the comfort food they produced, amazing dishes whipped up by brilliant but humble cooks in their family. Well, let me tell you, it was totally different in my family. My mother’s family – totally useless as cooks, who could survive on bread and butter, cooked once a week a terrible, terrible meal, usually some kind of meat piece with lots of brown sauce. Also, they were never bothered about eating together. That’s maybe why most of them were depressed and suicidal. My mother followed that path and couldn’t really cook, and because I never wanted to eat meat, was warning me that ‘one day I will regret it’. Probably because my mother wasn’t into cooking my sister at the age of 12 took over and started producing amazing dinners and cakes. Well, luckily for me and her we weren’t that genetically doomed because apparently my father’s family were gifted in that compartment. I can only presume it was genes, as my father divorced my mother when my sis and me were little and he strongly believed that he also divorced us. So, we were growing up never having any contact with him and as a result, couldn’t learn how to cook from him. That’s why I believe the love of cooking ( and the ability) was just passed to us genetically. My father, short time before he died, unexpectedly felt an urge to contact us. First he gave my sister a mandolin (that’s another thing I know about him- he played a few instruments). My sister refused to talk to him, he then decided to contact me and wanted to spend some time with me. I didn’t want to, as he was a stranger to me (I was 11 or 12 at the time) but as I was promised I could leave whenever I wanted to, I went to the village he lived in. There I tried his mother’s cooking everyone was raving about. It was simple and amazing, I wish they were as family dedicated as they were at baking, cooking, making pastries, wine, tinctures, you name it. But I ate, drunk, and got bored of strangers who were my family and demanded to be let to go home. One of the last things my father said to me was that I should start learning English because I might need it one day, which I ignored for another 16 years… Because my sister was such a domestic goddess I wasn’t really bothered about cooking. I got hooked properly after my son was born and I wanted him to eat healthy and get everything he needed, especially that it wasn’t his choice to be a vegetarian (yet). And that is how the story begins…

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