Turkish Despair

Delight turns to disaster as fruitcake goes Cordon Bleurghh…

“Oh no, mum’s got the book again – I told you we should’ve binned it!” The drama-queen so forcefully making this assertion is my seven year-old daughter, and the volume in question is a cookery book entitled ‘Cooking with Sugar’.

Ordinarily, my children would agree that they have nothing to fear from my cooking (well, nothing much…), provided that I follow my own star. It’s when I attempt to follow a recipe that everything goes radically wrong, and my culinary history is littered with examples to prove it – the Irish Soda Bread that left half a dozen sparrows staggering around the lawn with indigestion because it was unfit for human consumption, the trifle that could be eaten through a straw, and the Stilton Souffle that thought it was a cheese pancake to name just a few.

Nonetheless, I don’t give up easily, and the ‘Cooking with Sugar’ recipe for Pumpkin Pie can be considered a success story. I’ve been producing this every Hallowe’en for around five years now with no problems, but unfortunately for the rest of the family this triumph has led me to experiment periodically with other recipes in the book, with much less satisfactory results…

Browsing through its pages one day, I came across a recipe for Turkish Delight, and was unwisely spurred into trying it by the discovery that the ingredients were little more than sugar and water.

I duly mixed everything together in a strong saucepan as advised, and then read on. “Tint the mixture a pale pink with a little red food colouring.” I added a tiny drop to the pan, and the mix immediately turned a deep shade of maroon. Oh well. I’d started so I may as well finish. “Boil the mixture steadily for around eight minutes until setting point is reached” instructed ‘Cooking with Sugar’. I boiled it. Steadily. For around eight minutes. And then I boiled it steadily some more. For around half an hour. Eventually, something like ‘Not Quite Setting Point But I’m Beginning To Wish I’d Never Started This’ was reached, and I turned it into the tin to set as per the recipe.

Several hours later, I headed with heavy heart for the kitchen to add the finishing touches to my congealed confectionery. ‘Cooking with Sugar’ boasted a glossy photo of neat cubes of Turkish Delight, softly dusted with icing sugar. I soon realised that this image was not going to be emulated by me when I tried to slice my own modest efforts. Semi-set, it more accurately resembled the colour and texture of raw liver, and the icing sugar was immediately absorbed by the moisture. I had to pick up the kids from school, and I was running late – there was nothing for it but to leave it on the worktop exposed to the air in the hope that it would dry out a little while I was gone.

I returned to find my husband had come home from work unexpectedly early. He was sitting on the edge of his chair, looking pale and visibly shaken. “I think that stuff needs putting in the fridge”, he said “It looks like you’ve been sacrificing a sheep in there!” Opening the kitchen door, I was met by something reminiscent of a scene from a horror film. The Turkish Delight had spread alarmingly, and was bubbling over the side of the plates like an alien life-form that had just had its throat cut. I’m sure the bin found it delicious.

It’s not as if I even like sweet stuff myself, but I’m determined this book isn’t going to get the better of me. I’ve recently been given a large quantity of sugar by someone who really ought to have known better, so ‘Butterscotch Bites Back’, the sequel to this terrifying tale, is no doubt coming soon – to a kitchen near you…