It's ANZAC Day long weekend here and in commemoration of those brave diggers, I have baked Anzac biscuits. I have also baked a torte, but let's not get excited about that until it has been cut..... which will be later this evening. Having Anzac biscuits in the house has brought out the animal in Spud however. He has become a Voracious Beast and can't stop eating Anzacs. I've had to hide them in the pantry. It's for his own good!
I should have put my lipstick on for this photo... That way I would look more like a glamorous TV chef-like personality.
This recipe is from Bill Granger. Put 1 cup of plain flour, 1 cup rolled oats, one cup of dessicated coconut 2/3 cup of brown sugar into a bowl and mix well. Put 125g butter and one tablespoon of luscious golden syrup into a wee pan and melt on low heat (or nuke it). Meanwhile, add 2 tablespoons of boiling water to 1/2 teaspoon of baking soda in a little cup. Stir that up and pop it in with the melted butter and syrup. Hey presto! A science experiment!
The butter will froth up a bit and this is when you add the golden, frothing liquid to the dry ingredients, stirring up eagerly with your favourite wooden spoon. The mix should be all buttery and you will be able to roll the mix into little balls. If not, add a bit more melted butter. Roll into aforementioned balls, place on a baking tray and press down GENTLY to flatten each one before popping them into a 160 degree (centigrade) oven for 10 - 20 minutes, although this is stricly dependend on the mood your oven is in at the time of baking.
They are completely delicious and the Only Good Thing to come out of a war zone - ever. Apparently they were baked and mailed to Diggers in the trenches of France back in 1915. Making them has cheered me up and prevented me from stewing over the senseless carnage of war, because it's been war, war, war all weekend here - France, Gallipoli, Vietnam, Korea, Afghanistan... And there is nothing good to be said about any of it. I am sitting here listening to the neighbours' kids laughing and playing in their backyard. Very nice. I think I will pop my head over the fence and hand out some biscuits...
- They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
- Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
- They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
- They fell with their faces to the foe.
- They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
- Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
- At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
- We will remember them.