Viennese Fucking Whirls

Look, I know it has been a while. I am having the most dire fucking wifi/internet problems at the moment. Our coverage has virtually died in the last month, and no matter what I try, I’m unable to save it. EE really need to sort their shit out. I kept promising I would upload this post at work, as I had already written it a few weeks ago, I just wasn’t able to publish it. I’m currently posting this using a mobile hotspot. So, read this as if it was 2 weeks ago, cunts:

This weekend I thought I’d attempt something semi-difficult, and I thought Viennese Whirls would fit that description. I’m not great with piping or pastry, so this would challenge me.

For my basic recipe, I went to the Tesco Real Food website, which offered up Black Forest Viennese Whirls. In my continued attempt to make sure the two recipes are different, I thought this would be fucking perfect – who the fuck has even heard of Black Forest Viennese Whirls?

For my pro recipe, I went to none other than Literally-Brokeback-Mountains – The Hairy Bikers. They had a basic Viennese Whirl recipe, which was chill with me.



I gathered my ingredients up – flour, cornflour, icing sugar, and butter…and vanilla? Shit. I fucking forgot to pick up vanilla when I was at the shops, so no sooner than 10 minutes after I came back, I had to go back. It’s not just WordPress and the ingredients that are costing me, but the fucking petrol as well.

I used my spangly new food processor to blitz the shit into the dry ingredients and butter (and the wanking vanilla). This processor is more efficient than the checkout staff at Aldi. It made small work of blending the ingredients, and I ended up with a smooth dough.

pipe1My next task was to ‘spoon’ the mix into a piping bag with star nozzle. This was fucking impossible, because the dough was basically solid. So solid, in fact, that it wouldn’t squeeze through the nozzle and even split the shitting seam of the piping bag…which ironically was from Tesco. I loaded another bag and dumped in the dough, and proceeded to molest it. A 5 minute massage, giving it a good squish and a poke, and it definitely softened. Exactly the same way that guests on Jeremy Kyle end up pregnant.

I piped ‘rosettes’ onto my baking tray lined with baking paper. I truly am shite at piping anything, from icing to dough, so the first few were both misshapen and wonky, a bit like Theresa May’s nose.

After a few rounds, and googling several fucking pictures of Viennese Whirls, I just about got the hang of it. I mean they still looked pretty shit in the grand scheme of things, but outofoven4whatever. I whacked them in my preheated oven for 10 minutes, and in the meantime prepared the buttercream. Easy shit as usual, beat the fuck into the icing sugar, butter, and vanilla, then spoon it into a bag. Yes, I actually fucking managed to complete this challenge.

After 10 minute, I checked on the whirls and was presently surprised to see that they weren’t burnt to a crisp. They didn’t feel firm, so I left them in another 2 minutes and when the timer rang, they looked perfect. I took them out, and because I’m an inpatient cunt, transferred them straight to a cooling rack…and a couple crumbled easier than a man faced with his football team suddenly becoming a goal down in the 92nd minute.choc1

Whilst they were cooling, I melted the dark chocolate. I am skint as fuck at the moment as I’ve just moved into a new job…after the cut off point for getting paid, so I have to live on my December pay cheque until the end of the month. Therefore, I had to use Sainsbury’s basics dark chocolate at 55p per 100g. Tastes like bleach, but does the job. I accept paypal if any of you fuckers want to donate to me being able to eat for the next few weeks.

I also cracked out the cherry conserve, which was considerably more expensive. Annoyingly, Sainsbury’s does jam in every fucking flavour except cherry. I saw a fucking ginger jam or some shit in there whilst I was looking.

dunkI dunked each biscuit into the chocolate, coming up about halfway, and forgot that as I didn’t temper the chocolate, I had to put the fuckers back into the fridge for 5 minutes. After they had hardened up, I piped a swirl of the buttercream onto half of the biscuits, and a dolloped a spoonful of the conserve on the other half. I sandwiched the cunts together, and voila – fancy as fuck Viennese Whirls. I put them back in the fridge while I made the next lot.

The Hairy Bikers


This was more or less the same shit. Blitz the various powders with some butter (which I had purposely softened to the point of melting, in an attempt to make the dough a bit squishier), and shoved the crap into the bag.

Trying to soften the butter further did not fucking work. I had to sexually assault this batch of pastry as well. In fact, if anything, I had to be more aggressive in my approach.

Eventually it was just about pipeable, and with all my fucking might I started squeezing. These whirls looked far fucking better than the first, obviously due to the practice. I actually managed to pipe them a lot quicker as well. Where’s my fucking gold star, bitches?

outofoven3They went into the oven, at the same temperature, for about 15 minutes. They were certainly done when their time was up, however one tray had darkened a shade or two more than the other. I put this down to the two trays being on different racks in the oven. I made the buttercream as they were cooling down, again the same shit, and got the raspberry jam out the cupboard.

I opened it to find there was a new fucking life form growing on the surface. Luckily I had some strawberry jam, and to be honest there is no fucking difference. I opened that one…only to fucking find that this jar was also growing it’s own colony! THIS is why jams and sauces belong in the fucking fridge, not the cupboard. My last hope was the blackcurrant jam. I was certainly not going on another adventure to the shop, so it was this or peanutbutter. By fucking miracle, the blackcurrant jam was fine. I spooned a little onto half of the whirls, and piped the icing on the rest.sandiwch1

This process was definitely made both fucking easier and shorted without all the chocolate bollocks being involved.

I sandwiched the twats together and went for a nap.

The Comparison

I think most of you can guess that the Black Forest Viennese Whirls were much better than the plain ones with blackcurrant jam. I mean, the blackcurrant ones were nice, but they weren’t dipped in chocolate made primarily of asbestos.

Lee preferred the Black ones, but said that both of the biscuits were very similar in taste and texture. That makes sense, both the recipes were near on the fucking same. He had little else to say about it, but I’m fucking knackered and I couldn’t be fucked to get more detail out of him.


He didn’t correctly guess which whirl belonged to which recipe, but nobody really fucking cares about this aspect of the blog.

The Ratings

Tesco Black Forest Viennese Whirls

  • Difficulty: 6/10 (largely due to stiffness of dough and chocolate nonsense)
  • Presentation: 8/10 (I actually thought it was a shame that the chocolate covered up the attractive swirl)
  • Taste: 9/10 (could have been 10/10 if I had bought decent quality chocolate)

Fucked up Hairy Blackcurrant Whirls

  • Difficulty: 3/10 (stiffness again)
  • Presentation: 9/10 (if that jam had been red, whatever the fucking flavour, people would pay for the fuckers)
  • Taste: 7/10 (not bad at all, just not….amazing)

Overall, I would certainly make the Hairy Bikers’ whirls again once I had jam that didn’t have fur.

The Final Word

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Sticky Toffee Twatting Pudding

Right so I think I’ve sorted the shitey internet issues I’ve been having (by hijacking Lee’s laptop), so I can finally write about last weekends bake: the classic Sticky Toffee Pudding. A true delight.

Following some criticism I’ve recently had regarding how the two recipes I compare are always the same, I’ve put some more effort into finding some that have big differences.

The pro recipe I used comes from the one and only, the motherfucker who has inspired me and this blog, hunk Gordon Ramsay. I actually found this recipe on another blog rather than an official Ramsay page, but whatever. This recipe has both dates and cocoa powder in it, so a contrast to the recipe from Now, I know I’ve used a lot of recipes from this site and I really need to find a different source, or even go back to youtube videos- but I was actually linked to this through another blog and I just didnt fucking clock what I was using.

I gathered my shit together and my lovely new toy – a banging food processor, something I’ve needed for a long arse time.

Gordon fucking Ramsay


Gordon instructed me to use a sponge cake tin….a round one? A rectangular one? The best cake tin I have is a round spring-form one, so I used that. I preheated my oven and cracked the fuck on.

I stuck the dates into my food processor to chop them up, which really is a task that tests the metal of a processor. It coped well, it did vibrate and shake with the intensity of the equipment you can find at the back of Ann Summers, but it did the job.

I dumped my chopped to fuck dates, water, and dates2sugar into my non-stick pan and heated that shit up. Whilst it simmered, I made the espresso and mixed the dry ingredients together. After the date/sugar/water mix had finished stewing, I folded the dry into the wet. I fucking hate folding (as you will know if you’ve followed my blog from the beginning), but I did it nonetheless because I needed a successful bake to shut Lee the fuck up. He’s been moaning that last weeks Bollocky Banana Bread was shit.

I then read the next step: blend the mix. So why the fuck did I just spend 5 minutes of my fucking life folding?! Gordon, what the actual fuck. I do have a blender, but not a nutri-bullet, and in dates2-1.jpgprevious bakes it has failed me more than Jeremy Cunt Hunt has failed the NHS. So I whacked it all back into the processor and that bitch did the fucking job no problem. It was at this point I realised…when do I add the cocoa powder? This recipe had no fucking indication of where I should add, or even whether to add it to the fucking cake batter or sauce. I thought WWGD? He would say something along the lines of usE SOME FUCKING COMMON SENSE, PANINI HEAD, WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU THINK IT GOES? FUCK ME WHAT THE FUCK. I threw the powder into the processor as well and hoped for the best.blend2

Once that had been blitzed to shit, I poured it into my mixing bowl and dumped in the butter, coffee, and vanilla. I whisked that for a few minutes and then added the eggs. This must be the first twatting recipe that hasn’t told me to add the eggs one at a time, so I took advantage of that and threw all fucking three of them in at once. After a thorough whisking, I poured it into my tin and hurled the fucker into the oven.

Whilst that was baking, I made the toffee sauce: easy shit really, add the sugar, butter, cream, and salt into a pan and simmer whilst mixing. This took all of 5 minutes. I poured it into a jar and sauce2waited for the cake to finish cooking. Once it was out of the oven and cooled off, I took out of the tin and poured the sauce on top. There was easily far too much fucking sauce, and a week later I still have some left.



So this recipe had 6 steps, fucking sweet. Easier than a white girl with daddy issues who’s been on the rosé all night to get over ‘that bastard’.

I sifted the dry shit together and mixed it with the sugar. In another bowl I whisked the milk, eggs, butter, and vanilla. I had to whisk until a ‘light, frothy foam’ had appeared on top. I can’t fucking deal with instructions like this because how the fuck am I to know how light/frothy/foamy it needs to be? I whisked for a minute and no foam had formed, so I left it on whisk for wet1another 5 minutes…still nothing, just some bubbles. I whisked just a few minutes more and no change, so I thought FUCK THIS and added the gloopy mix to the dry goods. All I had to do now was pour it into my baking dish – this time I used a large roasting dish, which turned out to be just an inch or two too big, which can be a nice yet stinging surprise occasionally, but in this instance was a bit disappointing. It didn’t make the world of difference but I like my cake slices to be thicker than the girls who do ‘hair and beauty’ at college. wet1.3

I threw it into the oven, and made the sauce in the meantime. This was exactly the same as Gordon’s special sauce, just with the omission of the salt. I poured that into another jar and started the 39 minutes process of scraping and scrubbing the toffee remnants off of the pan.

Once the cake was done, I poked holes into it and poured the sauce over the top. I was pleased to see that even though the cake was spread thinner than I’d have liked, it wasn’t burnt (largely thanks to my new oven thermometer that I could never be without).

sauce1.3The house smelt like a toffee eating unicorn had exploded in the kitchen and my nails looked like I’d given a colonoscopy to a cow without wearing gloves, but this puddings looked decent enough.

The Comparison

In terms of looks, AllRecipes cetainly won the contest. It was the right sort of shape, consistent thickness, and a nice golden colour. Gordon’s on the other hand was a bit lopsided, I’m guessing because it was baked in a round tin…you know how round cakes often come out with an interesting slope to them. It was also much darker, but it did have all that fucking cocoa powder and the dates so I can excuse that.

Above: Before the sauce went on

I presented them to Lee, who looked apprehensive. That banana bread fucking traumatised him the bloody pansy. He took a bite, and suddenly decided that perhaps I wasn’t trying to poison him. His words were ‘it’s a renaissance in your baking, following last weeks disaster’. I didn’t actually think that that fucking bread was that hideous. Prick.

He decided that AllRecipes was his favourite, as it had more of a classic sticky toffee pudding texture and flavour. He didn’t guess which recipe was which correctly, which I always think is funny.

Gordon’s looks really burnt here but I promise it’s not

I actually preferred the taste of el Gordo’s, the chocolate definitely added something. I couldn’t taste the coffee, which was probably for the best, and I thought it was far moister than the AllRecipes pudding. Nothing can really be said about the sauces, they both tasted exactly the same and really good. Not crazy sticky or crazy thick, a pretty standard, nice toffee sauce.

The Ratings

Gordon motherfucking Ramsay

  • Difficulty: 6/10 (lots of mixing and processing, but at least I had the processor)
  • Presentation: 4/10 (an…interesting…fucking shape, perhaps a square tin is best)
  • Taste: 8/10 (lush as fuck, love the chocolate)


  • Difficulty: 3/10 (no dates = no sticky chopping)
  • Presentation: 8/10 (could have been thicker)
  • Taste: 7/10 (still really good, I just preferred the chocolate in Gordon’s)

The Final Word










Listen up fuckers

Right so I’ve not forgotten to write, I’m just having some major internet/laptop connection problems and I can’t do a whole post with pictures on my mobile (slightly due to laziness and slightly due to not having unlimited data)

I would do it at work but I’ve just started a new job at a law firm, because I’m one swanky motherfucker, and I don’t want to risk the company seeing the shit that I write

also last week’s post on Bollocky Banana Bread didn’t post properly as far as I can tell, but it is there

it will come. eventually. promise.

fucking EE need to sort their shit out.

sorry not fucking sorry bitches.

Bollocky Banana Bread

Good morning. Yeah I know this post is late but I’ve been busy doing fuck all so, and this is MY blog so shove that up your arse.

Lee asked for banana bread last week and it looked pretty simple, so why the fuck not. If you have read my Banoffee Pie post, you’ll know that I think bananas are the spawn of fucking satan and I wouldn’t eat one if Zac Efron promised I could do it off of his abs. This does have some advantages: as you may or may not be aware, I am a fat fuck and I don’t need to be eating any more cake.

The pro recipe comes from the Naked Chef (Jamie Oliver), and the other recipe comes from Lee told me that recently my bakes have all been similar, so I should try to find two recipes that differ slightly. For example, when it came to my Chocolate Cheesecake post, one was baked and the other just chilled. So for this banana bread, one is WILDLY different in that it has some chocolate chips in it.



This is the recipe with the chocolate fucking chips, so I already think that this banana bread is going to be better. I sorted my ingredients out, which included 3 whole bloody bananas that I had to mash up whilst trying not to vomit.

I preheated the oven, which I am no longer dubbing the ‘Fucking Incinerator’, as since I acquired an oven thermometer I can now throw my bakes into it without fear of it returning as charcoal.

I got my loaf tin and didn’t even consider greasing it properly because bitches be busy, so I cracked out a loaf tin liner and pressed it in. I cannot emphasise how much better tin liners are than taking 3 minutes to grease shit up. Cheaters do win sometimes.


I creamed the butter and sugar in a bowl. I have learned recently that you really do have to beat the fuck into butter and sugar until it’s as pale as an anaemic 16 year old, so once I’d got it there I added the eggs one at a time (if someone can let me know why the fuck you have to add eggs one by one then that’d be good). The mix didn’t look great at all, more like a slimy, congealed bowl of shite.  I then held my breath whilst adding in the sludge of banana, milk, and cinnamon. This mix did not get any better looking- if I had actually vomited from the smell of bananas you wouldn’t be able to tell the fucking difference between that and this batter. wet mix 1The last chance this mix had to go through puberty and emerge far more attractive was when I added the dry shit and stirred. Low and behold, it did improve. It didn’t quite do a Matthew Lewis, but certainly a better result than Macaulay Culkin. I stirred in the chocolate chips and dolloped the batter into the loaf tin. I double checked that my oven was definitely at 150 C (lower than the recommended 170 C as I have a fan oven), and it was dead on temperature. Despite the fact the dial was pointing at 110 C.

I threw it into the oven and set the timer…for 70 fuCKING MINUTES?? I’ve been tricked like this before,intin1 so I took 20 minutes off so I could check its progress. Of course, as I am boss as bitch, I was obviously fucking right to check the cake early as it was definitely done after about 55mins.

It did look a bit brown and felt a bit crispy, but certainly not to the extent my previous bakes have suffered through. I lifted the loaf out of the tin and left it to cool.


Jamie Oliver



Right motherfucker, lets go. I do Jamie so he always has a lot to live up to when I use and abuse him. He suggests using overripe bananas, but I don’t have a clue what they look like so I just grabbed the first bunch I saw in Sainsbury’s.

I cranked the oven up 10 C and grabbed another tin liner. Now, he did tell me grease the tin with olive oil but I don’t buy olive oil given the current economic climate (as if I don’t spend enough on baking supplies every week) and the liner really is far fucking superior. I did however follow his advice on lightly flouring the sides and rim as the recipe uses banana2self raising flour and knowing my luck it will rise higher than Snoop Dogg.

I mashed the yellow cunts with a fork until I had a mixture of….smooth and chunky? What the fuck does that mean, Jamie? Whatever. I added the juice and threw the bowl to the side. Jamie then told me to beat the butter with a wooden spoon until creamy, but I have a perfectly good whisk and evidently more than 4 brain cells, so I did it the easy way. After I had put minimum effort into beating the shit into the butter, I added the eggs one by one. This mix didn’t look lumpy, like Jamie eggbutter2suggested it might, but more like a separated gloop. I have seen natural childbirth twice, and all I can think of is the fucking mess involved in that is reminiscent of this butter/egg mix (without the blood and screaming and tearing and crying and ruined body and regret and a horrified look on the husbands face as he realises he’s now got both a woman with a fucked up fanny and 18 years of hell to look forward to).

I then added the banana mix, honey, and all the dry ingredients at the same time and mixed. I opted not to use pecans because I couldn’t be fucked, so I went straight ahead and poured it into the tin and hurled it into the oven. intin2

I set the timer 10 mins early, and upon checking I noticed it certainly needed the last 10 minutes. And another 10 shitting minutes on top of that. This cake looked pale, soggy, and under-cooked even when the knife came out clean. I gave it just 5 more minutes just in case but no bloody change. I released it from the tin and went to sit down with a glass of vodka wine.

The Comparison

In terms of looks, it was sort of hard to judge as I hadn’t ever eaten banana bread before. I thought that the AllRecipes loaf looked way better but Lee instantly told me it was burnt. Fine, fuck that then.

Right: AllRecipes, left: Jamie

Upon taste, Lee yet again told me ‘it’s burnt’ (or at least I thought that’s what he said through his chewing). He did however, upon reflection and a few more bites, admit that actually it was moist on the inside and the chocolate chips really added to the flavour. He did also say that the banana flavour wasn’t that strong at all.


Definitely did not forget to take a picture before serving them..

He couldn’t possibly say that Jamie’s was burnt as it still looked underdone, but he didn’t say it was still gooey on the inside. His main concern was that he could not taste any banana in whatsofuckingever. Both loafs contained 3 bananas each, yet he was adamant that I had forgotten to add something? Yeah, sorry, just forgot to add the fucking bananas to the fucking banana bread? Nah. I had a nibble of a bit of AllRecipes and wasn’t a fan as I could definitely taste the bananas, and I didn’t bother with Jamie’s.

Lee guessed which loaf was which wrong (ha), and ultimately AllRecipes was his favourite. Sorry Jamie.

I have no fucking idea what to bake this weekend so if anyone would like to offer up an idea then leave a comment. And maybe even share the blog with a friend as I’ve noticed reader numbers are going down. Not that I’m upset. I don’t have a heart or soul. I’m definitely not crying into my cake batter. Not at all.

The Final Word




Fucking Churros

Those of you that care (yes, all three of you) will have noticed that there hasn’t been a post in a little while. Why? Was I gravely ill? Injured in a freak baking accident? Family food poisoning emergency? No. It was because it was fucking Christmas time and believe it or not, I occasionally enjoy spending time with my friends and loved ones. I did actually do a metric fuck tonne of baking for my family, including vanilla biscuits, cakes, muffins, truffles, and cake pops. But I could not be fucked to do the ‘compare two chefs’ bollocks.

I did however decide that it was time to resume the blog and after many nagging and relentless requests, I made some churros (last Friday of the month = foreign dessert). You may think that churros come from Mexico or some shit but actually the origins are unclear, and Wikipedia tells me there is a chance that they arrived in Portugal from the Chinese, and then migrated to Spain.

The pro recipe I used comes from top baking bitch, Martha Stewart. Now, the other recipe I believed came from a run of the mill blog, obviously not as good as mine, called Recipe Tin Eats, however tucked away in the ‘notes’ section of the page was a comment where this bitch admitted it was a Nigella recipe (something I didn’t notice until well after I had made the fuckers). So, as a New Years special edition, this post pitches two pro bakers head to head.


Martha fucking Stewart


I was happy to read that this recipe only had 4 steps: Make the batter, put batter into piping bag, fry the shit out of the batter, then dust the results in sugar.

Making the batter was simple: melt the sugar, salt, and butter in boiling water in a pan. I did worry slightly as it looked like an oil slick and wasn’t combining, but

butter1eventually it conformed. I then sieved in the flour and stirred some more.

I dumped the floury gloop into my mixer and fucked it up with my electric mixer. This stuff was fucking hot so I was very apprehensive of putting raw eggs into it, knowing my fucking luck the stuff would just turn into scrambled shite.

butter2I closed my eyes, took a breath, and added them in separately and slowly. The mix looked like vomit (specifically the type of vomit that spews out of you after you’ve had an Indian and 3 bottles of red wine), but the eggs didn’t seem to have cooked. Sweet as fuck.

After the mix was as beaten as a 50’s housewife who had the audacity to question her husband, I spooned into a mix1piping bag fitted with a large star nozzle. I got a bountiful harvest of gifts this Christmas, the majority of which were either MAC vouchers (fuck off, I am a makeup artist at heart and don’t care how much money I spend on a bottle of foundation), and new toys for the kitchen. This included 24 new piping nozzles, a new apron- which makes me look like that 50’s housewife- a confectionery thermometer, and a fucking oven temperature gauge. If you have followed my blog at all, you know that the Fucking Incinerator oilcompletely blackens anything and everything I bake, so I put the gauge to use as soon as I opened it. My fucking oven was nearly FIFTY FUCKING DEGREES too hot.


I piped the batter, which was runnier than I thought it would be, into my pan of heated oil (which I bought to temperature using my new and shiny thermometer). This was reminiscent of a dog taking a shit…a dog with a funny shaped arsehole, that is. As mentioned in previous posts, I am not a fucking octopus so squeezing the bag to pipe a consistent log churro and snipping off the end was tricky. It did take a batch or two before I got the technique down properly. I half expected the fuckers to disintegrate on contact, but they bubbled and floated nicely in the burning oil.inoil1

After 3-4 minutes and a flip halfway through, I retrieved them and placed them on a chopping board…I forgot to buy kitchen roll to soak up the excess oil, but that wasn’t the end of the world. I rolled them in the sugar, and immediately realised they were too hot and too oily, so I left them on the side until I had used up all of the batter.

Martha does link to a chocolate dipping sauce but it involved fucking chilies and god knows what else, so I just made two lots of the sauce from Recipe Tin Eats instead.

Recipe Tin Eats/Nigella


This recipe was even simpler: mix the dry ingredients with boiling water and a little oil, and transfer into the bag. No eggs. No butter. As a result, this dough was a lot thicker than Martha’s. I knew instantly that it was not in anyway going to fucking work, so I kept adding hot water until it was still thick but pipe-able. I threw the bag to the side and heated up some more oil. This recipe specified a 15cm churro, but there was more chance of Theresa May suddenly growing a bag2heart than me cracking out a ruler and measuring the shitting dough. I thought I’d be clever and try to pipe a heart shaped one on some baking paper and transferring it into the oil, but that didn’t happen. Instead I attempted to pipe a heart directly into the pan, and it came out looking like a fucked up pretzel.

These churros took more or less the same amount of time to turn golden and crispy, and I sugarfished them out and let them cool before rolling them in the cinnamon sugar (made by mixing cinnamon and sugar…even Trump would manage that).

I made the chocolate dipping sauce, and took a step back to admire my work. These cunts looked good.

The Comparison

There wasn’t a whole lot of difference between the two piles of diabetes. I tried one of each before rolling them in sugar, and Martha’s were definitely sweeter. However, I feel both of them had the same crunch and crispiness.

In terms of presentation, again, they both looked near identical in terms of color. Nigella’s churros looked straighter, but I think that’s just because my skills had improved by the time I got the last couple of batches.


I also think that the cinnamon sugar was much better than just a dusting of icing sugar, so after the taste test had been completed, I dunked Martha’s into the left overs. It wasn’t crazy cinammon-y, but still fucking delicious. The chocolate sauce was just a standard, run of the mill sauce, but there was an obscene amount of it. There was also an offensive amount of churros, each bagful of batter produced enough to fill two roasting dishes (the only containers that were clean following a week of cooking utter shit and eating whatever found in the fridge).

Left: Nigella, Right: Martha

Lee preferred Martha’s, but he was too busy hoovering up every last churro to really tell me why. I also preferred Martha’s as they were definitely much sweeter and more crunchy.

Overall, these fuckers were proper easy to make and I will definitely be doing them again when I need to impress dinner guests (lol, we never have guests). We have enough leftover churros to feed a small army, so 5 minute in the oven to crisp up again is all that will be needed to restore them to crunchy greatness.

The Ratings

Martha bitchin’ Stewart

  • Difficulty: 5/10 (piping into the oil was the trickiest part)
  • Presentation: 8/10 (definitely looked like a churro, only wonkier)
  • Taste: 6/10 without cinnamon sugar, 10/10 with it

Recipe Tin Eats/Nigella

  • Difficulty: 5/10 (same as above)
  • Presentation: 9/10 (much straighter)
  • Taste: 8/10 (certainly less sweet but still good)

The Final Word










Motherfucking Mousse

Happy fucking Sunday, bitches.

This Friday just gone was my office Christmas do (yes, that’s right, I’m actually allowed to work in an office), so I needed to take it easy for the rest of the weekend. I thought that chocolate mousse was more complicated than it turned out to be, whilst still being easy enough so that it wouldn’t mind-fuck my hungover brain.

I was a bit hesitant about the raw egg aspect of it all. I’m no Edwina Currie, but I have enough common sense to know that raw egg isn’t the safest thing to consume. I also don’t do out of date dairy, so I had to buy fresh eggs. Don’t fucking judge me, you can say ‘well they last longer than you think, the use-by date is just a guide’ all you want, but I actually don’t want to fucking die of food poisoning so I try to keep some standards here and there.

Upon googling ‘chocolate mousse recipe’ I realised that nearly every twatting chef out there has posted one online. Nigella, Delia, Mary ‘mothafucka’ Berry, James Martin, etc etc etc. It did cross my mind that I could do a ‘christmas special’ post and pitch all of their recipes against each other, but I’m both busy with shit and still have some alcohol in my blood levels, so I decided against it. Maybe another time. (probs not though).p

I ended up choosing Frenchie McFrench -Face Raymond Blanc‘s recipe, to battle against‘s ‘Super Simple’ instructions.

Whilst I was happy that I needed like 5 ingredients in total, I did use an offensive shitting amount of eggs that needed separating, something I don’t have much skill at. I gathered my shit together and broke out the electric whisks.


Raymond ‘garlic eating surrender monkey’ Blanc


Ingredients: Chocolate, eggs, lemon juice, and caster sugar. Simple shit.

The first step was to melt the chocolate over simmering water. Fuck that. Firstly, I don’t have a bowl big enough to sit above the pan; secondly, I cannot be fucked with that. Into the microwave the chocolate went. I nuked the fuck out of it and placed my liquid heart attack to the side whilst I whisked the shit into the egg whites. I added the 1/4 teaspoon (what a stupid fucking measurement) of lemon juice, and I’m 70% 1stcertain it did actually make a difference- I swear that white shit got stiff quicker than a well known hollywood celebrity looking at any young, female star like a piece of meat. I then added the sugar and continued to whisk until it I had firm peaks.

I then had to whisk in some of the whites into the melted chocolate, quickly and brutally, so the chocolate didn’t seize. I absolutely fucked that mix up, whisking it like my life depended on it….and it fucking seized. Awesome. I did my best, and folded the rest of brown1the whites in (this did help fractionally, but the mix certainly was…chunky.

I poured the shite into my receptacles (not fucking martini glasses as Raymond suggested, because I’m not classy enough for that bollocks.) I threw them into the fridge and started on Gousto’s recipe.


Basically, same shit. Separate the eggs, melt the chocolate. Now, I didn’t read this recipe before following it, so I didn’t realise I needed to retain the egg yolks….which, as you can see, I had poured into a jar with no due care or attention. I tried my best to fish out 3 whole yolks and put them to the side.

I whisked the cunting egg whites and sugar together until I had another stiff and white meringue mix.


After that, I had to channel my inner octopus and attempt to do 2 things at once: whisk the egg yolks with some of the egg whites, whilst slowly pouring in the melted chocolate (to which I had added the salt). Gousto didn’t suggest I do this, but the chocolate was hot and I have made the stupid fucking mistake of dumping molten chocolate into an egg mix before and ending up with scrambled shit. I stirred until it was all nice and smooth.

I then folded the rest of the whites into the mix – I really do bloody hate folding, I don’t have enough strength in my wrist for it. Need to get one of those shake-weights.


I ended up with a slimy, shiny, dark gloop. I poured that into some ramekins that I found hiding in the back of the cupboard, behind the 234 mugs that have been hoarded, and threw those into the fridge next to Le Frog’s. I was so fucking grateful that I didn’t have to use the Fucking Incinerator™ this weekend, I don’t think my queasy stomach could have handled the smell of burning or a face full of smoke.


The Comparison

Annoyingly for me, Taste Tester Lee is on a diet at the moment so was resistant to try any of the mousse, but I eventually forced a spoon down his throat. Overall, he said that both of them were basically the fucking same. He preferred Raymond’s mousse because it had ‘little chocolate bits in it’….this made me laugh, as he had no idea that they weren’t meant to be in there, it was just a result of the cunting chocolate seizing up. That being said, it was my favourite too because it certainly tasted lighter and fluffier than Gousto’s. Both of them had firmed up significantly in the fridge, but Gousto’s was more dense and it just didn’t seem as airy as a mousse should be, in addition to being quite bitter. To be honest, I have no idea what I’m fucking talking about, I grew up eating Tesco Value chocolate mousses and loved them.


The Ratings

French Fry

  • Difficulty: 4/5 (the hardest part was separating the eggs)
  • Presentation: 7/10 (not restaurant worthy but not like the attempt of a toddler)
  • Taste: 9/10 (pretty damn fucking delicious, shame about the seized chocolate)


  • Difficulty: 3/10 (purely because there were less eggs to fanny about with)
  • Presentation: 6/10 (much smoother and shiner than Ray’s)
  • Taste: 6/10 (just…..ergh….)

The Final Word

Tesco Value chocolate mousse:



















Fucking Chocolate Twatting Tart

Well, I am still snowed the fuck in but we needed supplies, apparently more than I need safety, so I had to creep into town, trying not to fall flat on my face.

Now I know we are well into December and everyone is shoving mince pies up their arses and snorted crushed quality street chocolates, but I am not spending all month baking Christmas shit. Mince pies are not fucking happening, I’ve already done the Christmas cake, and it’s too late to do a Christmas pudding. At most you might get to read about my failed attempts at gingerbread or perhaps a panettone.

So this week I decided to attempt something relatively easy because I’m a busy bitch, I just about have time to wipe my own arse in between Christmas shopping, wrapping, laundry, cooking, ironing, washing, fitness classes, and actually going to my fucking job. The answer? Chocolate tart. Winner. Everyone loves chocolate.

We all know that I am infatuated with Jamie Oliver, so I’m using his rich chocolate tart with salt flakes. I know there’s a lot of hate out there for him because he took ‘turkey twizzlers’ away, but my mum loved me enough to send me to school with a homemade lunch, so I never lost out. The other recipe I used comes from BBC Good Food, with their no-bake tart. The thought of ‘no-bake’ makes my heart flutter with relief and optimism, because it means I don’t have to use the Fucking Incinerator.


Jamie Oliver


Lets start with the naked chef (I fucking wish)

I nearly had a fucking aneurysm when I read that the ingredients list included  ready-made shortcrust pastry. What the shitting scallop is a pro chef doing recommending ready-made dough?? Well, he did also state you could use homemade, but fuck that. I have never used ready made pastry so I did not have a clue where to even find the shit in Sainsbury’s. After spending 10 minutes scouring the baking aisle, it suddenly fucking dawned on me that it might just be in the chilled or frozen section….and sure enough, there it was- directly above the butter. I was so fucking thankful when I saw that the pack was the exact crsut1weight that Jamie had specified that I had a myocardial infarction on top of my aneurysm.

First step: Put pastry in greased tin. I thought this would go terribly because we all know that I am not good with the delicate shite when it comes to baking. I have seen a few videos of bakers slowly easing pastry into tins and moulds, so I tried the most commonly used technique, and things actually went relatively well. I don’t have any baking beans (if anyone wants to send me a Christmas present, then make it that), so I filled cream1the tin with rice (on top of baking paper). Jamie didn’t ask me to prick the pastry with a fork, which I thought odd, but I trust him.

So I threw the tin into the Fucking Incinerator, on a slightly lower temperature than required. In the meantime, I made the fucking filling. This was easy shit. Boil cream, add sugar and salt, melt in the chocolate, and stir. Once I had a delicious brown sludge in front of me, I added the milk and stirred until it was glossy. I was pretty happy with filled1everything at this point, nothing had fucked up. I had the smug, content feeling that a parent must have when they hear that a girl in their child’s school is pregnant. Shit is happening, but not to me and my bake!

I left the pan of heaven on the side and checked on the pastry – all good, so I took out the rice and baked it for another 10 minutes. Upon return, I found that it hadn’t fucking caught alight or turned into charcoal, however the sides had shrunk a bit. Whatever. I took it out, poured in the chocolate, and threw it into the fridge. After a couple of hours, I took it out and sprinkled fucking sea salt flakes on top of it. Did I genuinely spend £2 on a pot of ‘salt flakes’ purely for this fucking bake? Yes, yes I bloody did. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

BBC Good Food


I started this one a couple of hours after Jamie’s had set…so about an hour previous to me writing this. I am genuinely fucking busy. I gathered the ingredients, melted the butter, and crushed the biscuits. I don’t have a decent food processor, just an old and battered blender which doesn’t cope too well with solids; so I had to use the ‘smash it with a fucking hammer’ technique. I really hate making bases from crushed biscuits and butter because there never seems to be enough of either and I find that it makes the base as unstable as a 14 year old crsut2girl whose boyfriend has been texting that fucking bitch from the year below. I did the best I could and hurled it into the fridge to chill whilst I made the filling.

This, again, was a piece of piss. I can get down with any recipe that tells me to melt the chocolate in a microwave, rather than over boiling water. I nuked the shit into the chocolate and stirred in the icing sugar and vanilla. Whilst that was cooling, I whipped that cream mix2like the NHS gets whipped by the tories. Once it was so thick that it was taking PE and Religious Studies for GCSE’s, I folded in the chocolate. Once that had all combined, I slopped it into the tart crust (sounds like a 80’s slang term for an STI) and put it back in the fridge. Sainsbury’s had fuck all fruit today, so no raspberries to decorate.

The Comparison

It’s easy to see the difference between the two. One is the Idris Elba of tarts: rich, dark, and beautiful. The other is the Rita Ora: average, you probably wouldn’t look twice. Unless your social media focusing on the ‘date night’ shit going on at the moment with her.

Taste tester Lee sampled each slice with some cream. He instantly guessed which tart was which correctly, but for an odd (yet logical) reason: Jamie’s was made with just dark chocolate, dark chocolate is healthier than milk chocolate, Jamie pushes the healthy stuff, therefore the dark one must be Jamie’s. I mean, I couldn’t argue with the tosser. He only realised there was salt on the slice when I prompted him to tell me if he could taste anything but chocolate in there, but I’m glad it wasn’t an overpowering saltiness. His favourite, however, was BBC Good Food’s tart, as it wasn’t as dark and bitter. It was certainly lighter and fluffier, however I didn’t think much of the buttery biscuit base. Overall, my favourite tart was Jamie’s

The Ratings

Jamie Oliver

  • Difficulty: 3/10, without the stress of making the pastry, shit was easy
  • Presentation: 8/10, if the crust hadn’t shrunk, that tart would have been fucking perfect
  • Taste: 8/10, it was definitely dark and certainly not for people who don’t like bitter chocolate

BBC Good Food

  • Difficulty: 5/10. I really struggle with making biscuit bases
  • Presentation: 6/10, could definitely be improved by some decoration
  • Taste: 7/10, not bad, could be richer

The Final Word


The answer is simple: she’s a cunt.