This rhubarb meringue cake came from the Fleur Wood Food Fashion Friends cookbook. The photography was lovely but I wasn't sure that I could get the same prettiness and to be honest I had no idea whether fashion people actually ate cake. However I figured that she must be some sort of baker given that the recipe solves that annoying dilemma of having too many egg yolks after doing a sky high meringue or vice versa. Also if you really wanted to and say you had a copious amount of egg whites in the freezer (I actually had seven in my fridge) you could do it with a bought sponge cake wodged with cream and rhubarb in the centre.
The cake in the book however didn't appear to have had its meringue baked at all so if you don't want the tips slightly browned, you should avoid baking the meringue (one niggle and I suspected as much, the things they do for a pretty fashion spread!). However I have to eat my words, much like I did that fateful day in advertising. It is a great cake and a sky high crowd pleaser.
Once upon a time I worked in an advertising agency. There was a mother hen, a little like Joan Holloway in role but definitely not in looks. She was older and fussed and preened over some of the staff at the agency reminding them to eat lunch and furnishing them with cups of coffee just the way that they liked them.
She was forever sending around all staff emails about little things that really didn't warrant all staffers. One day she sent around an email to everyone marked urgent "Subject: My spoons!!" asking that anyone that had any of her special coffee spoons which she used to make coffee for the MD must _return them to her _immediately.
I rolled my eyes. I sat across the partition from her and was familiar with her notorious all staffer emails. My boss, who I had a good and joking relationship with was one of her favourites. So I emailed him.
"You creep! You stole your mum's spoons!" knowing that he would find the all staff email as amusing as I did.
Then across from the partition I heard her voice.
"I stole what? From my mother...????" she said perplexed.
All the colour drained from my face. I had pressed reply instead of forward! Cue the ominous music.
"OMG!! That wasn't meant for you, it was meant for him!" I said running towards her desk and pointing at my boss who was doubled over with laughter tears streaming from his eyes. I quickly deleted the email on her computer before she had a chance to look at it again.
Luckily she saw the humour in it. I think we've all accidentally replied to someone instead of forwarding this and even though I don't think she fully understood what had happened, I suppose she was too busy with tracking down her rogue spoons to care about whatever it was. She then walked off to mother the MD who was waiting for his coffee (and I suspect cared not one jot which spoon she used).
This recipe is for the mums that understand. The ones that understand when we're short on the phone because we're busy at work or can't talk or the mums that make you your favourite dish just when you need it most. The mothers or indeed surrogate mother figures (I am lucky enough to have many of these lovely women orbiting me) that take you under their wing just because they're generous caring people. The cake itself is a testament to them. It is light, sweet with a rosy red blush to it. Rhubarb is such a wonderful partner to meringue as the slight tartness offsets the sweetness of the meringue beautifully and adding vanilla gives it all an aromatic warmth.
Happy Mother's Day for this coming Sunday to all the mothers and surrogate mother figures out there!
So Dear Readers, tell me about any email mishaps that you have had!
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