Please forgive the fact that the subject of this post sounds like a spam email...
I'm going away this weekend, and staying in a YHA hostel, and through a clever bit of googling I discovered this offer they have on:
http://www.yha.org.uk/special-offers/995bed_sale-995Beds-gs1.aspx
You can get accommodation for £9.95/night at any YHA hostel in the UK as long as you book online and you don't have to be a YHA member to take advantage, as this includes temporary membership for the nights you stay there.
I just thought I would mention this in case any of you fancied getting away. Without this offer it would have cost me £17.95 a night, so it's worth knowing!
Thursday 25 February 2010
Saturday 20 February 2010
My Favourite Banana Bread Recipe
This is my favourite banana bread recipe, from the Post Punk Kitchen site:
http://theppk.com/recipes/dbrecipes/index.php?RecipeID=121
One of my old housemates used to bake all the time, and she made a really great banana bread. But it had eggs and alcohol in it, which made it seem a bit decadent for a Saturday morning. You also had to gently simmer apple juice on the stove to cook the sultanas and it all got a little labour intensive.
I like this recipe because it uses ingredients I always have in the house, including a number of bananas going past their best. I try and make my baking vegan, as I like the challenge, plus I still have aspirations of kicking my dairy habit. I have also eaten a lot of disappointing vegan cake over the years, so want to build up a box of tried and trusted recipes to restore people's faith in vegan baking.
I've always made the recipe in a large loaf tin until now, but I recently came across these mini loaf tins and thought they would be adorable for making lots of mini versions of whatever I was making. The batch actually made eight mini loaves, six of which are pictured here, with each loaf about the size of a small muffin/generous cupcake. (The other two of them were eaten before taking the photograph).
Delicious hot or cold, with peanut butter or chocolate spread, or just by itself delicious.
http://theppk.com/recipes/dbrecipes/index.php?RecipeID=121
One of my old housemates used to bake all the time, and she made a really great banana bread. But it had eggs and alcohol in it, which made it seem a bit decadent for a Saturday morning. You also had to gently simmer apple juice on the stove to cook the sultanas and it all got a little labour intensive.
I like this recipe because it uses ingredients I always have in the house, including a number of bananas going past their best. I try and make my baking vegan, as I like the challenge, plus I still have aspirations of kicking my dairy habit. I have also eaten a lot of disappointing vegan cake over the years, so want to build up a box of tried and trusted recipes to restore people's faith in vegan baking.
I've always made the recipe in a large loaf tin until now, but I recently came across these mini loaf tins and thought they would be adorable for making lots of mini versions of whatever I was making. The batch actually made eight mini loaves, six of which are pictured here, with each loaf about the size of a small muffin/generous cupcake. (The other two of them were eaten before taking the photograph).
Delicious hot or cold, with peanut butter or chocolate spread, or just by itself delicious.
Friday 19 February 2010
You Can Find Me, If You Know Where To Look
I have been thinking a lot lately about my presence on the internet, and how much people can find out about me just by googling my full name. After a quick search, the list so far is running to:
But it's not a secret blog.
I imagine that at the moment the readership comprises entirely of people I know, who I have invited to come here as I thought they might enjoy my writing. But I'm not adverse to people who don't know me, or more importantly who I don't know, reading it. I just don't want a direct line between this and everything that came up before. There may be a trail of dots allowing the astute reader to guess their way from a to b, but I'm not going to join them up myself.
Part of the reason I have left such a trail online until now is that I liked the idea of people being able to recognise me from one online community to the next. Consistently using a username and email address that was closely linked to my name meant that people I knew both on and offline could keep in touch with me. Having a consistent online identity made it easier in the zine world, especially as I published my own zines and distributed the zines of others (which is how my address came to be online.)
So I'm not denying that it's worked in my favour, this internet presence. In fact, my last girfriend got to know me after buying a zine from my distro at a gig, then googling me, then finding I was in a band, then turning up at my next gig and talking to me. (She also joked that she looked my address up on googlemaps before getting to know me, which is less funny when we get to the next paragraph). And whilst I was glad she did that, it made me realise how much information was out there about me. She could access all my online profiles and through them find out all my favourite books, read conversations I had with friends, see photos of me spanning back years. So I tightened up my online security, or at least I thought I had.
But recently, someone I didn't even know started amassing information on me via the internet. From what I have worked out, she found my address via the distro I used to run (and proceeded to lurk outside the house, or so I have been told), and used the email address for that distro to search for blogs I had written, and found one that me and a friend wrote together. She then used to the information she learned about me there to try and persuade my boyfriend that he would be better off ending our relationship and starting one with her. Unsurprisingly, he was not convinced.
But it un-nerved me. Not because I saw her as a threat to my relationship, but because of how relatively easy it must have been for her to find all those things out. I had always thought that my open-ness about my online identity was a good thing. I've never been afraid to put my name to any of my views, political or personal, and I've used the internet as a pretty successful way to connect to other like-minded people, some who I didn't know, some who I knew peripherally from my social scene but wanted to get to know better and that old favourite of people I had lost touch with. I'd naively just never seriously thought about the flipside, that someone could take all that readily available information and try and use it against me.
So that's why I approached this blog from a slightly different angle. It's still about me and my life; it's a perblog after all. It just can't be found by googling my name.
- My job title, work phone number and work email address
- Various social networking profiles (livejournal, myspace, facebook) but with minimal information available to those not on my "friends" list
- Information on one of my bands, including recordings of our music
- Various online petitions I have signed
- My home address (whilst I've deleted that information, it's still being held in some caches)
But it's not a secret blog.
I imagine that at the moment the readership comprises entirely of people I know, who I have invited to come here as I thought they might enjoy my writing. But I'm not adverse to people who don't know me, or more importantly who I don't know, reading it. I just don't want a direct line between this and everything that came up before. There may be a trail of dots allowing the astute reader to guess their way from a to b, but I'm not going to join them up myself.
Part of the reason I have left such a trail online until now is that I liked the idea of people being able to recognise me from one online community to the next. Consistently using a username and email address that was closely linked to my name meant that people I knew both on and offline could keep in touch with me. Having a consistent online identity made it easier in the zine world, especially as I published my own zines and distributed the zines of others (which is how my address came to be online.)
So I'm not denying that it's worked in my favour, this internet presence. In fact, my last girfriend got to know me after buying a zine from my distro at a gig, then googling me, then finding I was in a band, then turning up at my next gig and talking to me. (She also joked that she looked my address up on googlemaps before getting to know me, which is less funny when we get to the next paragraph). And whilst I was glad she did that, it made me realise how much information was out there about me. She could access all my online profiles and through them find out all my favourite books, read conversations I had with friends, see photos of me spanning back years. So I tightened up my online security, or at least I thought I had.
But recently, someone I didn't even know started amassing information on me via the internet. From what I have worked out, she found my address via the distro I used to run (and proceeded to lurk outside the house, or so I have been told), and used the email address for that distro to search for blogs I had written, and found one that me and a friend wrote together. She then used to the information she learned about me there to try and persuade my boyfriend that he would be better off ending our relationship and starting one with her. Unsurprisingly, he was not convinced.
But it un-nerved me. Not because I saw her as a threat to my relationship, but because of how relatively easy it must have been for her to find all those things out. I had always thought that my open-ness about my online identity was a good thing. I've never been afraid to put my name to any of my views, political or personal, and I've used the internet as a pretty successful way to connect to other like-minded people, some who I didn't know, some who I knew peripherally from my social scene but wanted to get to know better and that old favourite of people I had lost touch with. I'd naively just never seriously thought about the flipside, that someone could take all that readily available information and try and use it against me.
So that's why I approached this blog from a slightly different angle. It's still about me and my life; it's a perblog after all. It just can't be found by googling my name.
Wednesday 17 February 2010
The Bird's Wedding Day*
This post comes a couple of days after Valentines Day, but I can confirm that the first bird I saw on Valentines Day this year was a blue tit (or rather, two of them). Tradition has it that an unmarried woman can gain a useful insight into the nature of her future husband from the first bird she sees on Valentines Day:
http://www.worcesternews.co.uk/news/5005749.Why_you_should_look_out_for_the_birdie_on_Valentine_s_Day/
I didn't write this post on Valentines Day as I had a particular picture of a blue tit that I wanted to scan in, from this picture book I have called "A Colour Guide to Familliar Garden and Field Birds, Eggs and Nests". The images are wonderful; a page for each bird, with the bird itself in colour and it's nest/habitat as a pen and ink drawing.
*Apparently Valentine's Day was called the Bird's Wedding Day long ago as it was believed that birds selected their mates and began to breed on February 14.
http://www.worcesternews.co.uk/news/5005749.Why_you_should_look_out_for_the_birdie_on_Valentine_s_Day/
I didn't write this post on Valentines Day as I had a particular picture of a blue tit that I wanted to scan in, from this picture book I have called "A Colour Guide to Familliar Garden and Field Birds, Eggs and Nests". The images are wonderful; a page for each bird, with the bird itself in colour and it's nest/habitat as a pen and ink drawing.
BUT my scanner is currently out of action. It appears that since I used it last, I had mislaid the power cable. So I went into town to buy a replacement cable, only to get home and realise I had also lost the cable that connects it to the USB port on my laptop...
So instead, here is an equally lovely blue tit illustration that I came across recently:
This picture is from one of the cutest zines I have read in a while - "The Smell of The Wild" by Gareth Brooks. It's a collection of drawings and poems about the British Countryside. (Consider this a reproduction of part of the zine for review purposes, and check out more of his work at http://www.appallingnonsense.co.uk/!)
I have no plans to marry (in fact I would go as far as to say I plan not to get married), so it is of little practical use to know that my 'future husband' will apparently have money (due to the yellow on the blue tit's tummy)!
But I do find it fascinating the way that people make up explanations for things that they can't understand, or link together two apparently unrelated occurances to give their lives more meaning.
I remember when I was in school, whenever we saw an aeroplane trail in the sky, in meant someone was thinking of you, and moreover the number of trails equated to the hair colour of that person. Or when you ate an apple you would twist round the stalk until it came off, or pull petals off a flower until there were none left, repeating to yourself "he loves me, he loves me not"...
It's actually only in the past few years that I have managed to stop using the apple stalk method to gauge the level of interest from my crushes, in favour of more hands-on methods like just talking to them.
*Apparently Valentine's Day was called the Bird's Wedding Day long ago as it was believed that birds selected their mates and began to breed on February 14.
Thursday 11 February 2010
Come out tonight - or don't - I'll still be your friend
I was recently told by someone in my social circle that I'm getting "boring" because I "never come out anymore". I'm not about to argue about whether or not I am boring, as I'm confident that I'm not. I manage to keep myself near-constantly entertained at any rate.
My issue is with the supposed link between me going out to gigs and clubnights less than I used to, and how this makes me seem "boring" to some of the friends I made through those channels. It's true that a lot of my friends are people I have met through collective organising of gigs and clubnights over the years, or through friends of those friends who do similar. They're people who like a lot of the same music as me, so we'd expect to see each other when certain bands play locally, or at monthly clubnights organised by mutual acquaintances. A lot of us probably met after being drunkenly introduced one evening by a shared friend, and after bumping into each other a couple more times, we'd start actively arranging to meet up, often to go out to some gig/clubnight etc. And that's great. I enjoy that. But I don't want that to be all there is, and I'd like to think that a lot of those friendships would continue if I stopped going out to gigs and clubnights so much (as has happened lately).
And for a lot of those friends, there *is* more to our friendship than just going out together. We make music together, we have dinner together, we hangout at each others houses talking. We go on day trips, to exhibitons, on walks, to talks on things that we think are interesting. We do loads of things that aren't *going out* and have a great time. And you know what, sometimes we even go out dancing, or to see bands. It's just not the defining feature we use to check if we're having a good enough time.
What worries me is that for a small minority of people, the scale of "how often this person comes out dancing/drinking/to gigs" is doubling up as the scale for "how interesting this person is to me, really". Sure, it's great to have people to go out with and have fun, and I love doing that. But is that the only capacity I'm of any use to you in? What if I'm too worn out, or if I'm ill, or if I can't afford it, or know that there's going to be someone there I can't handle seeing? Am I now "boring"?
The people who don't find me boring, the people who find me interesting, engaging and inspiring tend to be the people who actually know me well, who don't just see me when we're 'out' at the same place. The people who, when they ask if I'd like to come out and I tell them I can't, instead of telling me I'm boring, suggest something else fun we could do together another time.
If there's a friend you miss, who you used to see out all the time, and lately they haven't been around much, get in touch and see how they're doing. Maybe they've got things going on that you didn't know about that mean they don't want to be as actively involved in your shared community as they used to be. Maybe their chronic health condition has flared up and they're having to take a break from anything too energetic. Maybe their crappy, badly paid job is wearing them out, so on top of being hard up they're also too exhausted to walk to the other side of town for drinks in a busy bar, even though they'd like to see friends. Don't try and shame them into coming out by telling them you think they're boring.
My issue is with the supposed link between me going out to gigs and clubnights less than I used to, and how this makes me seem "boring" to some of the friends I made through those channels. It's true that a lot of my friends are people I have met through collective organising of gigs and clubnights over the years, or through friends of those friends who do similar. They're people who like a lot of the same music as me, so we'd expect to see each other when certain bands play locally, or at monthly clubnights organised by mutual acquaintances. A lot of us probably met after being drunkenly introduced one evening by a shared friend, and after bumping into each other a couple more times, we'd start actively arranging to meet up, often to go out to some gig/clubnight etc. And that's great. I enjoy that. But I don't want that to be all there is, and I'd like to think that a lot of those friendships would continue if I stopped going out to gigs and clubnights so much (as has happened lately).
And for a lot of those friends, there *is* more to our friendship than just going out together. We make music together, we have dinner together, we hangout at each others houses talking. We go on day trips, to exhibitons, on walks, to talks on things that we think are interesting. We do loads of things that aren't *going out* and have a great time. And you know what, sometimes we even go out dancing, or to see bands. It's just not the defining feature we use to check if we're having a good enough time.
What worries me is that for a small minority of people, the scale of "how often this person comes out dancing/drinking/to gigs" is doubling up as the scale for "how interesting this person is to me, really". Sure, it's great to have people to go out with and have fun, and I love doing that. But is that the only capacity I'm of any use to you in? What if I'm too worn out, or if I'm ill, or if I can't afford it, or know that there's going to be someone there I can't handle seeing? Am I now "boring"?
The people who don't find me boring, the people who find me interesting, engaging and inspiring tend to be the people who actually know me well, who don't just see me when we're 'out' at the same place. The people who, when they ask if I'd like to come out and I tell them I can't, instead of telling me I'm boring, suggest something else fun we could do together another time.
If there's a friend you miss, who you used to see out all the time, and lately they haven't been around much, get in touch and see how they're doing. Maybe they've got things going on that you didn't know about that mean they don't want to be as actively involved in your shared community as they used to be. Maybe their chronic health condition has flared up and they're having to take a break from anything too energetic. Maybe their crappy, badly paid job is wearing them out, so on top of being hard up they're also too exhausted to walk to the other side of town for drinks in a busy bar, even though they'd like to see friends. Don't try and shame them into coming out by telling them you think they're boring.
Friday 5 February 2010
All You Can Read
Today I was so excited to be rejoining Leeds University Library as a graduate member, that I nearly ran all the way there (which to be fair, would only have taken me about five minutes as I still live so close to the campus).
I wanted a copy of "The Dialectic of Sex" so I could read chapter 7 for a feminist book group next week. I'd left it too late to pick up a secondhand copy online, and the Leeds central library didn't even have a copy on the catalogue. The book group is run by the Leeds University feminist society, and after checking the University library catalogue online and then spending a few minutes begrudging the fact that most members of the group could just walk into the university library and pick up a copy, I remembered that as a graduate of Leeds University - so can I!
Getting a graduate library membership is something that has been at the back of my mind since I graduated (2006) but I've just never gotten round to it. I had in my head that membership was for an academic year, and so each time I remembered that I wanted to join it always seemed to be so far through the year that I should just wait until the next year. As it turns out, the card they gave me today is valid for 5 years, and I don't need to renew it on a yearly basis.
Best of all, because it I have a reference only card that doesn't allow me to check out books, it was free! (To get a card that allows me to actually borrow books would cost £50/year. I'm not going to go that far just yet, I'll have the reference only membership for a year or so and see how that suits me.) Because the other thing about the university library (and by that I mean the Brotherton Library, not the Edward Boyle Library; Leeds University has two libraries) is that not only is it a mere ten minute walk from my house, it is also a LOVELY place to spend your time. It's a circular building with lovely wooden panelling, a basement floor with the most amazing floor-to-ceiling shelves, cubby hole desks where you can hide away for hours at a time. I don't need to take the books home with me, I can quite happily read whatever I need to read whilst I'm there.
So this weekend, you can find me in the library. Reading feminist theory. For FUN.
I wanted a copy of "The Dialectic of Sex" so I could read chapter 7 for a feminist book group next week. I'd left it too late to pick up a secondhand copy online, and the Leeds central library didn't even have a copy on the catalogue. The book group is run by the Leeds University feminist society, and after checking the University library catalogue online and then spending a few minutes begrudging the fact that most members of the group could just walk into the university library and pick up a copy, I remembered that as a graduate of Leeds University - so can I!
Getting a graduate library membership is something that has been at the back of my mind since I graduated (2006) but I've just never gotten round to it. I had in my head that membership was for an academic year, and so each time I remembered that I wanted to join it always seemed to be so far through the year that I should just wait until the next year. As it turns out, the card they gave me today is valid for 5 years, and I don't need to renew it on a yearly basis.
Best of all, because it I have a reference only card that doesn't allow me to check out books, it was free! (To get a card that allows me to actually borrow books would cost £50/year. I'm not going to go that far just yet, I'll have the reference only membership for a year or so and see how that suits me.) Because the other thing about the university library (and by that I mean the Brotherton Library, not the Edward Boyle Library; Leeds University has two libraries) is that not only is it a mere ten minute walk from my house, it is also a LOVELY place to spend your time. It's a circular building with lovely wooden panelling, a basement floor with the most amazing floor-to-ceiling shelves, cubby hole desks where you can hide away for hours at a time. I don't need to take the books home with me, I can quite happily read whatever I need to read whilst I'm there.
So this weekend, you can find me in the library. Reading feminist theory. For FUN.
Thursday 4 February 2010
Why I loved "500 Days of Summer", when it seems like no one else did
I went to see 500 Days of Summer at the cinema, and I loved it. A lot of people I knew hated it, not helped by the line early on that states that there are two kinds of people in this world: men and women. I think that is a stupid thing to say, even in a romantic comedy. And it's not even correct in the context of their story. So I just ignored it and enjoyed the rest of the film.
I then went to see it for a second time, leaving work early one day to bike over to the cinema for a late afternoon showing, and I liked it even more. I have now bought myself a copy on DVD, which I am watching right now.
I had crushes on both the male and female leads for the duration, and I loved the scenes where they were play acting in the ikea show homes, the karaoke, and the bit in the park where everyone suddenly starts up with a synchronised dance routine was amazingly cute but the thing that got me, and made me want to watch the film again and again was my total over-identification with Tom, the one who falls in love, with Summer, the one who doesn't .
The story:
Tom starts seeing Summer, who he likes. Who he really likes. To be fair to her, she states early on (whilst in the ikea show home) that she's not really looking for anything serious, and he hears that. But things develop, and they get closer, and he falls in love even though she doesn't even believe in love. He knows they're not boyfriend/girlfriend, but he let's himself get carried away, interpreting her actions in the way he wants to, even when she is saying something else. Things carry on, with Tom suspending disbelief, until Summer tells him she doesn't want to do this anymore and he falls apart.
After putting myself in Tom's position so many times in the past, I can safely say that for me there are few things more dangerous than becoming emotionally invested in someone who wants different things to what I want. This is why the film struck such a chord with me.
I am terrified of that situation (and each time it happens I feel stupider for falling for it again), when you have something with someone which seems so much like what you want it to be that you pretend to yourself that it is that thing, the Relationship with the capital R . It seems so much like one, and you want it to be one so badly, that you ignore the reality that contradicts your expectations. You even allow yourself to be heartbroken when the other person shatters it. But ultimately, the thing that I've realised is that, if my heart breaks in this situation I have to take responsibility for my part in it.
I would like to say it will never happen again, but I think I said that the first and second times it happened. But at least I have gotten better at realising when it's happening and I can happily report that it's not happening now.
I then went to see it for a second time, leaving work early one day to bike over to the cinema for a late afternoon showing, and I liked it even more. I have now bought myself a copy on DVD, which I am watching right now.
I had crushes on both the male and female leads for the duration, and I loved the scenes where they were play acting in the ikea show homes, the karaoke, and the bit in the park where everyone suddenly starts up with a synchronised dance routine was amazingly cute but the thing that got me, and made me want to watch the film again and again was my total over-identification with Tom, the one who falls in love, with Summer, the one who doesn't .
The story:
Tom starts seeing Summer, who he likes. Who he really likes. To be fair to her, she states early on (whilst in the ikea show home) that she's not really looking for anything serious, and he hears that. But things develop, and they get closer, and he falls in love even though she doesn't even believe in love. He knows they're not boyfriend/girlfriend, but he let's himself get carried away, interpreting her actions in the way he wants to, even when she is saying something else. Things carry on, with Tom suspending disbelief, until Summer tells him she doesn't want to do this anymore and he falls apart.
After putting myself in Tom's position so many times in the past, I can safely say that for me there are few things more dangerous than becoming emotionally invested in someone who wants different things to what I want. This is why the film struck such a chord with me.
I am terrified of that situation (and each time it happens I feel stupider for falling for it again), when you have something with someone which seems so much like what you want it to be that you pretend to yourself that it is that thing, the Relationship with the capital R . It seems so much like one, and you want it to be one so badly, that you ignore the reality that contradicts your expectations. You even allow yourself to be heartbroken when the other person shatters it. But ultimately, the thing that I've realised is that, if my heart breaks in this situation I have to take responsibility for my part in it.
I would like to say it will never happen again, but I think I said that the first and second times it happened. But at least I have gotten better at realising when it's happening and I can happily report that it's not happening now.
Tuesday 2 February 2010
Vegan, gluten-free browie recipe.
I'm going to a vegan potluck dinner tonight, and so I decided to make chocolate brownies. I have a tried and tested recipe from "Another Dinner is Possible" and they are one of the tastiest things I have ever eaten.
BUT they use flour, so I started wondering if I could make a gluten-free version. (A usually unseen competitive edge comes out of me when cooking for other people, and as I seem to move in circles where multiple food preferences/intolerances are commonplace a 'vegan plus gluten-free' recipe will be a good one to have under my belt. I also hate it when vegan cake tastes less satisfying than cake using dairy, so this shouldn't be a problem here.)
So this is the version I made, with significant inspiration from both ADIP and the now-defunct "nosh ninjas" website. You do have to pre-soak the beans overnight and also cook them before using them in this recipe, but I do this in batches and then freeze them in usable portions so it's not too much of a faff.
Topping:
4tbsp cocoa
4tbsp soy milk
60g margerine
160g brown sugar
1tsp vanilla essence
Main Brownie:
100g margerine
100g cocoa
100g white sugar
100g brown sugar
1/4 tsp salt
Egg replacer equivalent to 2 eggs
200g cooked haricot beans (but black beans work too)
1/4 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla essence
1/2 cup chopped walnuts OR 50g chocolate chopped up (optional)
Method:
1. Preheat the oven to 180c, and grease an 8inch x 8inch tin. Only grease the base, as this will help the mixture climb the sides
2. Make topping: melt margerine in a saucepan with cocoa, sugar and soya milk. Slowly bring to the boil, then simmer for a minute (stirring well). Take off the heat and transfer to a boll, then beat it with a fork for ten minutes to help it cool and thicken. Add vanilla essence.
3. To make the main brownie part: Melt the margerine in a saucepan. Meanwhile, in a medium bowl, mix together the cocoa, white sugar, brown sugar and salt. Pour the melted margerine over this mixture and stir together.
4. In a food processor (or with a potato masher) puree the beans with the egg replacer and vanilla essence.
5. Add the bean mixture to the chocolate mixture, along with the baking powder, and mix well. Stir in the walnuts/chocolate chips.
6. Transfer the mixture into the greased tin and spread out with a spatula. Then pour the topping on top. Cook for 40 minutes. A knitting needle inserted in the middle should come out with only a few moist crumbs (unless you hit a melted chocolate chip - there's some guesswork involved!)
7. Wait for it to cool down, then cut into squares.
I use "no-egg" as an egg replacer, but I have read about flaxseeds making a nifty substitute. My friend Swithun adds vegetable oil in place of eggs to veganize recipes, and apparently bananas can also work.
I also think this might be nice with a pinch of chilli powder or cayenne pepper. It's pretty heavy on sugar, but I don't think you can really get away from that when making brownies.
BUT they use flour, so I started wondering if I could make a gluten-free version. (A usually unseen competitive edge comes out of me when cooking for other people, and as I seem to move in circles where multiple food preferences/intolerances are commonplace a 'vegan plus gluten-free' recipe will be a good one to have under my belt. I also hate it when vegan cake tastes less satisfying than cake using dairy, so this shouldn't be a problem here.)
So this is the version I made, with significant inspiration from both ADIP and the now-defunct "nosh ninjas" website. You do have to pre-soak the beans overnight and also cook them before using them in this recipe, but I do this in batches and then freeze them in usable portions so it's not too much of a faff.
Topping:
4tbsp cocoa
4tbsp soy milk
60g margerine
160g brown sugar
1tsp vanilla essence
Main Brownie:
100g margerine
100g cocoa
100g white sugar
100g brown sugar
1/4 tsp salt
Egg replacer equivalent to 2 eggs
200g cooked haricot beans (but black beans work too)
1/4 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla essence
1/2 cup chopped walnuts OR 50g chocolate chopped up (optional)
Method:
1. Preheat the oven to 180c, and grease an 8inch x 8inch tin. Only grease the base, as this will help the mixture climb the sides
2. Make topping: melt margerine in a saucepan with cocoa, sugar and soya milk. Slowly bring to the boil, then simmer for a minute (stirring well). Take off the heat and transfer to a boll, then beat it with a fork for ten minutes to help it cool and thicken. Add vanilla essence.
3. To make the main brownie part: Melt the margerine in a saucepan. Meanwhile, in a medium bowl, mix together the cocoa, white sugar, brown sugar and salt. Pour the melted margerine over this mixture and stir together.
4. In a food processor (or with a potato masher) puree the beans with the egg replacer and vanilla essence.
5. Add the bean mixture to the chocolate mixture, along with the baking powder, and mix well. Stir in the walnuts/chocolate chips.
6. Transfer the mixture into the greased tin and spread out with a spatula. Then pour the topping on top. Cook for 40 minutes. A knitting needle inserted in the middle should come out with only a few moist crumbs (unless you hit a melted chocolate chip - there's some guesswork involved!)
7. Wait for it to cool down, then cut into squares.
I use "no-egg" as an egg replacer, but I have read about flaxseeds making a nifty substitute. My friend Swithun adds vegetable oil in place of eggs to veganize recipes, and apparently bananas can also work.
I also think this might be nice with a pinch of chilli powder or cayenne pepper. It's pretty heavy on sugar, but I don't think you can really get away from that when making brownies.
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