I did some baking last weekend. It's worth mentioning, as it is quite a rare occurrence. There was the lemon drizzle cake a couple of months ago; but unfortunately that was something best forgotten. What can go wrong with a lemon drizzle cake? You would be surprised. Everything went wrong with that cake, short of a guest appearance by the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. And that was only avoided because of a prior engagement.
But, to my eternal credit, I put the experience behind me and moved on. To be specific, moved on to trying my hand at parkin. I have just noticed that the spell checker has objected to the word parkin, suggesting that it doesn't exist in respectable, God-fearing dictionaries, that it is nothing but a misspelling of something as mundane as parking; which is a ridiculous suggestion as it clearly does not fit the meaning of the sentence at all. To tell the truth, I had a similar reaction when I took some of it into work, to share among my colleagues. Surprisingly, several of them had never heard of it, even those who claimed to be Northerners, such that I had to describe the recipe in intimate detail. But they tried it, just the same.
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