It would have to be in high school home economics. In these lessons you learned how to cook and bake basic things. It must have been in either year 7 or 8. The recipe was for Rock cakes, nice simple cake to make, consistency of a scone. So, I gathered the ingredients that I could as my parents were as shit going to get them.
So, then it comes to adding to the mix. Now my logic in thinking was a bit terrible. Rock. What do rocks taste like? salt. Rock Salt Cakes. That makes sense. So 200g salt added instead of sugar. Baked and packed them into a box and then it was the end of the lesson. Me and my dad were heading up to Glasgow to see my granny, so I finished school early. 5-hour drive. At my granny’s. Making her a cup of tea and giving her a cake on the side. She started eating it and saying how nice it was. Like a pro. Finishes off the cake. I asked if she liked it, “Lovely but filling, I’ll have one later”. Let the cakes in her kitchen.
“Andrew, what the fuck have you put in these cakes, ugh its fucking awful!” he shouted.
My Granny, god bless her, ate them, and spared my feelings. My dad not so much. I tried one, almost vomited. What a pro.
One response to “Rock cakes. Right.”
Delicioso