Workers of Edinburgh unite!

With its motto “where modern workers go to socialize,” the ACME Workers’ Club is the perfect place to hang in Edinburgh if you’re hankering for some quality burlesque, a pint, and the possibility of winning a frozen chicken or two. Held monthly in the RAF Club (for you Americans, think of a VFW hall) in the city’s New Town, the happening attracts a diverse hipster set and those that appreciate good, cheap food mixed with vaudeville-style entertainment. Last night I went there for the first time for a colleague’s leaving-do and was charmed by the friendly atmosphere and rolicking mix of post-war sauciness and sleaze-rock chic. The AWC re-interprets the working man’s club through post-postmodern cat’s-eye glasses and dishes up comedians, magic acts, and cabaret shows with neeps ‘n tatties on the side. One of the upstairs rooms was rented out for the evening and offered retro clothing and old-school confections for sale. Downstairs you can play bingo and swap stories with your elders while listening to the sweet sounds of the Andrews Sisters in the RAF bar. Be sure to enter the nightly raffle and a chance to win a frozen chicken! I’d didn’t need to win to have a terrific time. Better luck next month perhaps.

Pic of the day: The Russell Institute

Designed by the firm Abercrombie & Maitland in 1927, The Russell Institute was donated by Miss Agnes Russell to the city of Paisley to serve as a children’s clinic in memory of her two bachelor brothers, Robert and Thomas. While the architecture itself is striking on its own, Archibald Dawson’s sculptural programme lends a special flair to the building. In addition to the maternal figure and protecting angel over the entry sequence, check out the figures that decorate the areas between the first floor windows: they represent infants holding spectacles, bandages, dental tools, and other aspects of the medical profession. Inspired but creepy.

Having your cake and eating it too, damn it!

Because of the foul weather yesterday, we decided to stay in for Mike’s birthday and spend a quiet day at home for some much needed rest and relaxation. While Mike caught up with friends and family over the telephone, my plan was to whip up a fabulous birthday cake and scrumptious dinner for us to enjoy to celebrate this special day. Things never go as planned, of course, and a succession of culinary disasters foiled all of my good intentions. Without my electric mixer, I failed to make the egg whites whip into anything more than flaccid, oozing foam. (Clearly, I need to practice my technique.) And yes, there was broken glass involved and the scent of smoke still lingers in the apartment. The body of the cake itself however turned out quite well and was a delicious treat to sink our teeth into after all the cleaning up. It was saved by an impromptu vanilla sauce and sprinkled coconut flakes. Mike seemed to like it too, he had seconds!

Birthday Coconut Layer Cake (adapted from Maida Heatter and Amanda Hesser)

2 1/2 cups sifted cake flour
1 tbsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 stick unsalted butter
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 eggs
1 cup milk
Finely-grated zest of one large orange
A few spoonfuls of melted and strained apricot preserves

For the icing :
4 egg whites
1/2 cup light corn syrup
2 tbsp water
2 1/2 cups confectioners’ sugar
Pinch of salt
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp almond extract
4 cups moist, grated coconut

Adjust rack to the center of your oven and preheat to 375º F. Butter two 9-inch round layer cake pans. Line the bottoms with parchment, butter the paper, and then dust the pans lightly with flour. Set aside. Sift together the flour, baking powder and salt and set aside.

In a mixing bowl, beat the butter with an electric mixer to soften. Pour in the vanilla and sugar and beat for a few minutes. Drop in the eggs and continue beating until smooth. On the lowest speed add the dry ingredients in three additions–alternating with the milk in two additions–scraping the bowl and beating only until smooth after each addition. Stir in orange zest.

Divide the batter between the prepared pans. Tilt and shake the pans gently to level the batter. Bake until the cakes come away from the sides of the pans and tops spring back when lightly touched, about 25 to 30 minutes. Remove from the oven and let stand for 5 minutes. Cover with baking racks and invert. Remove pans and papers. Cover with racks and invert again. When the layers have cooled completely, place one layer on a cake plate, upside down. Using a narrow metal spatula, spread with a thin layer of apricot preserves.

Now prepare the icing: Mix the egg whites, corn syrup, water, confectioners’ sugar and salt in the top of a large double boiler. Place over hot water over moderate heat. Beat with an electric mixer at high speed until mixture stands in peaks when the beaters are lifted, about 5 minutes. Immediately transfer to a large bowl to stop the cooking. Add the vanilla and almond extracts, and continue beating, scraping the bowl often with a spatula, until very thick and smooth, about 5 minutes more.

Spread 1/3 of the icing on the bottom layer and sprinkle with 1/3 of the coconut. Place the second layer on top, right side up. Spread the top with the remaining preserves. Spread the remaining icing on the top and sides of the cake. With the palm of your han, press another third of the coconut onto the sides and sprinkle the remaining evenly over the top.

Makes one scrumptious cake of about 10 slices.

A crosstown breeze with a chance of brimstone

Mike and I had tentative plans to spend the day in Edinburgh tomorrow, but since the weather has been so dreadful today we thought to check the advance forecast to see if the skies would be cooperative. Above is the ridiculous icon that the BBC weather service is using to symbolize Sunday’s meteorological events. What does this apocalyptic, obscure cipher mean: thunderstorms, a chance of sun, light rain, snow, radiological clouds? According to the symbol guide, Sunday’s predominant weather forecast is sleet showers with 23mph winds. Go figure, we never would have guessed that. I suppose we will spend tomorrow indoors cleaning house.

It practically begs to get food spilled on it

Hooray, after an eternity of patient waiting our new couch has arrived! More of a chunky loveseat really, its soft cushions simply beg to be sat upon. And of course to have red wine or tomato sauce spilled on them. Although we promised to institute a strictly “no eating” rule in the living room, this promptly flew out the window as soon as we realized that we have no where else to eat unless we’d like to try it while standing up. Of course, the Romans dined while reclining on couches but I think that we bought the wrong sort of thing for that.