Better baking (cheat)

As mentioned a while ago, I really enjoy baking. However, my last attempt was, what you would call, an epic fail. Therefore, this time I thought it would be best to have a little help. Some might call this cheating, but considering what happened with my blueberry cupcakes, I call it smart.

I decided to make some chocolate cupcakes, courtesy of Green's Dennis the Menace Cake Mix. I've made these cakes many moons ago, and they always turned out beautifully. This time was no different.

You open the box, and twenty minutes later, you have a tray of perfectly cooked cupcakes. Just add the icing and little character motifs, and you're done. Granted, they're not the most attractive cakes in the world, but they taste wonderful. The plate of 12 were demolished almost instantly. Result.

Definitely not a baker

I love baking. Or rather, I love the idea of baking. When browsing the baking accessories section of the John Lewis website, for some obscure reason I begin to get ridiculously excited. The bowls, measuring jugs, cake cases and cookie cutters fill me with the intense desire to put on my apron and start sifting the flour. I even purchased a Le Creuset baby blue spatula on my last visit to the department store - I just couldn't help myself.

However, I will hold my hands up and admit that although I enjoy baking, I am definitely not a natural baker. On my last baking effort, I attempted a batch of blueberry cupcakes from a recipe I found ages ago in The Sunday Times Style magazine. The pictures shown looked absolutely scrumptious. My cakes, unfortunately, did not.

I couldn't even bring myself to take a photo of my culinary disaster. Not even the effects of Instagram could mask this epic fail.

A party fit for a princess

Yesterday I had the pleasure of attending a four-year-old's birthday party. Until fairly recently, I used to dread having to tag along to over-the-top gatherings for unappreciative toddlers. But now, I've begun to get quite into the whole occasion.

It's especially fun when the four-year-old in question is a spoiled little princess. There were presents galore piled up to the ceiling, covered in attractive pink wrapping paper with curly ribbons and iridescent bows. Approximately twenty screaming children were running around the beautifully decorated hall, all decked out in their party finery. We had a banquet table with a Disney princess tablecloth, and enough finger-food to feed an army. And to finish off, a fairytale castle cake bigger than the birthday girl herself. It was almost enough to make me like children.