My office has started doing pot lucks, and today was my turn. I picked November 5th as Bonfire Night is a wonderfully macabre celebration and I miss it. The bonfires, the sparklers, the Guy Fawkes effigies and rose-tinted childhood memories of being forced out of the house on cold November nights to watch fireworks on Blackheath.  I decided to make parkin because I remember reading about how parkin was a traditional cake to be eaten on Bonfire Night. Parkin is the work of the devil. It is meant to be a gingerbread-oatmeal concoction but it really is the work of the devil. I made a batch last night and it tasted awful. AWFUL. I went to bed hoping that somehow overnight it would morph into something edible. When I got up at 6am and it was still gross I had a What-Would-Nigella-Do moment? Nigella for one would not have made parkin – there is a reason why it does not feature in any of her cook boos. Nigella would have made yummy gingerbread. If parkin is kind-of-like gingerbread then why not make actual gingerbread. So that is what I did at 6am, and it was delish.

Thank you Nigella.

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