Sticky toffee loveliness

This day next week it’ll be Christmas Eve and as such, one more sleep until it’s socially acceptable to eat a Snickers Bar for breakfast.

In fairness, I don’t know if it’ll be a Snickers or a Toffee Crisp or a Kitkat. It’ll be chocolate, whatever the case. And maybe I’ll have a few sneaky Celebrations as well, to hammer the lesson home, so to speak.

I remember as a kid, creeping out of bed and slinking downstairs early on Christmas morning whilst everyone else in the house was pushing out big Zs, still adrift on an ocean of slumber. I remember that exhilaration of cracking open the living room door, holding my breath and peeking around the corner to see if he’d been. And I remember that physical shock at seeing shiny-wrapped presents, glistening under a sparkling tree. It’s a feeling all too infrequent in adult life, when you’re too old to have Santi deliver any more, on an annual basis.

You’re probably thinking that a nine-year-old Michael would have immediately torn into those presents to see what lay beneath that tantalising wrapping paper. But no. Thinking back now, I must have wanted to savour the feeling of anticipation and so instead of busting open the pressies, I was content to sit beside the fairy-lit tree and munch on one of the bars from my selection box, which was also delivered by the Man in Red.

These days of course, the exhilaration of Christmases past is relived through the little humans and their wide-eyed expressions upon peeking around the door on Christmas morning. However I still tend to sit beside the tree, munching on some bar or other as they tear into the presents and the carpet is quickly covered by a patchwork quilt of shiny paper shards.

As anyone who cooks will understand, there is also a certain satisfaction to be had watching your nearest and dearest enjoy their Christmas dinners. Whether it’s starters, mains or dessert, you want your diners wide-eyed, then moaning in appreciation and lastly, patting distended tummies because they’ve eaten too much. That’s my goal anyway and to that end, I did a dry run of the sticky toffee pudding you can see above. I wanted to see if it was as good as I remembered and also, I needed to make sure everyone loved it.

I don’t know about your house but the general rule of fat thumb with us is that, following the starter and main course on Christmas Day, there is zero room for dessert. A new tradition is a leisurely walk after lunch and then dessert in front of a film and the fire, upon returning from the stroll. This is the kind of dessert which suits that plan because by its very nature, STP is rich and decadent and filling, the sort of dessert that you need to take your time over.

Thankfully though, it’s really easy to make and, better still, you can make it ahead of time which makes this a perfect job for Christmas Eve.
This dish is based on a Nigella recipe from a previous book, At My Table but I’ve changed things slightly to make it a little less intense. The process remains the same.
Also, don’t be surprised that if, after eating, your paper crown slips down and you start pushing out some big Zs.

INGREDIENTS FOR THE SPONGE
175g of soft dried pitted dates, chopped as finely as you can be bothered
200ml of just-boiled water
1 tsp bicarb
75g soft unsalted butter
1 tbsp treacle
1 tbsp of golden syrup
50g light muscovado sugar
2 large eggs (at room temperature)
150g plain flour
2 teaspoons baking powder

FOR THE SAUCE
150 grams soft unsalted butter
300 grams light muscovado sugar
1 tsp of tablespoon black treacle
1 tsp of vanilla extract
200ml of double cream

THE PLAN
Before doing anything, set the oven to 160C to pre-heat.
Weigh out the dates and roughly chop and put these in a big bowl, sprinkle on the bicarb and pour on the just-boiled water. Stir to combine and set aside.
Next put the butter in a mixing bowl and add one tablespoon of treacle and one of golden syrup and beat well until creamed (smooth and incorporated). Then beat through the sugar until smooth and then beat in one egg at a time. Add the flour and baking powder and once again beat until smooth.
Tip in the watery date mixture – the whole lot – and mix through
Quickly grease a 9-inch cake tin and then pour the whole mixture in, scraping out every last morsel. Shake the tin a little so that it spreads out evenly across the bottom. Retire this to the oven for 30 minutes or until a cocktail stick comes out clean.
However, as the sponge is slowly filling the kitchen with the most amazing smell, make the sauce.
Tip the butter into a saucepan and melt gently, then add the sugar and treacle and continue stirring and heating until everything is melted and smooth. Turn up the heat and tip in the cream and stir until is comes to a simmer, then remove from the heat and put a lid on the pan to keep warm.
When the sponge is ready, use that cocktail stick to poke tiny holes across the whole sponge. Then pour a third of the sauce over the surface of the sponge, some of which will sink into the tiny holes. And that’s it. You can eat straight away but it’ll burn the mouth clean off you. You’re better letting it sit for half an hour and then serving with more of the hot sauce and some custard or cream or vanilla ice-cream.
Personally, I’ll make this on Christmas Eve so as to make for less work on the big day.
Eight more sleeps!