It’s Only a Victoria Sponge
It was a Monday night and at the Youth Group we were attempting to make a Victoria Sponge. Not an onerous task you might think and not worthy of starting World War III over. Sadly ten teenagers begged to differ.
The trouble started almost at once when they decided that they would rather make Chocolate Cake. I tried to reason with them that the Victoria Sponge decision had been taken with their full support many weeks ago. “I wasn’t there that day” one whined “P. must have made that decision. Why does she always get her own way? It’s just so unfair.”
“Because life’s unfair.” I almost spat but then stopped myself. “We only have ingredients for Victoria Sponge and if you are going to keep on arguing you may as well all go home because I don’t have the patience for it.” was what I actually said. At this there were a few nervous laughs as they hoped that I was only joking. I assured them that I was not joking and, after some persuasion they finally helped in the cake making effort. When I say helped, I have never seen eggs broken and added to the mixture through a small hole in the bottom of the shell and have also never seen such a lacklustre effort made to cream a mixture. All this went on under the malevolent glare of a few of the girls, still unhappy, standing at the door of the kitchen with their arms crossed defiantly. If they were hoping to see some sorrow in my face they were disappointed.
Soon the cake was ready for the oven and in it went, with cries of “It doesn’t look right”. “You’ve ruined it.” and many more I have erased from my memory.
Despite all the valiant hopes of the youngsters that the Victoria Sponge that was not a Chocolate Cake would be ruined thereby giving them some small measure of vindication, it popped out of the oven 20 minutes later no less than perfect. You might think that that would be the end of our woes, but sadly it was not to be.
The traditional method of filling and topping of a Victoria Sponge is jam in the middle and icing sugar on top. Generations will testify to the unblemished nature of this method and the exquisite taste therein. However, for the sake of my teenagers I was prepared to use whatever filling and topping they desired. Somewhat naively I considered this to be a good ploy. Of course I didn’t count on the fact that 10 teenage girls are not readily going to come to a unanimous decision. Not knowing the meaning of the word unanimous probably also doesn’t help.
“We can fill it with jam” I started “ but I’ve also got skooshy cream and chocolate spread so we….”
“Eurgh it’s not Nutella” said one “I’m not eating that.”
“OK, I’ll put it away so what will we do then?”
“We should use jam” said another starting to enthusiastically dump dollops of jam all over the cake and spread it in.
“That’s not fair” a small voice wailed “I’m allergic to jam and she always gets what she wants and I never do”.
This may of course have been “It’s just so unfair” from earlier on but I forget.
“But it’s got to be jam” said the enthusiastic spreader of the sticky stuff.
“Well I don’t like it, and I also don’t like Chocolate spread or cream so that means I can’t have any. It’s just (you will now be able to fill in the blanks).
Her cries were then taken up by all ten girls each arguing with one another about what should or should not go on the cake and the reasons for each thing meaning the ruination of the cake for each individual. Eventually I cut through their cries, but not with the jammy knife because that would just have been messy.
“Right, that’s enough” I said. “I’ve had it up to here with you lot. I’m going to take the cake into work tomorrow and give it to people who will appreciate it since you certainly don’t. Out of my way”. As I bore down on the cake the opinions of the girls remarkably gelled as one as if exposed to extra strong jam making pectin.
“OK” they said, and I could see real fear in their eyes “we’ll eat it ourselves”. At that all thoughts of allergies and personal dislikes were miraculously lost and the cake was reduced to a few paltry crumbs in less than five minutes. It was a truly remarkable transformation.
After that they went home and I thank singledom that I don’t have to take one home myself.
The best quote of the night came at the end from one of the girls in the older group who had been watching their antics and stuck her head round the door as they were leaving and said “You guys suck”!
On the basis of Monday night’s performance I was very inclined to agree.
The trouble started almost at once when they decided that they would rather make Chocolate Cake. I tried to reason with them that the Victoria Sponge decision had been taken with their full support many weeks ago. “I wasn’t there that day” one whined “P. must have made that decision. Why does she always get her own way? It’s just so unfair.”
“Because life’s unfair.” I almost spat but then stopped myself. “We only have ingredients for Victoria Sponge and if you are going to keep on arguing you may as well all go home because I don’t have the patience for it.” was what I actually said. At this there were a few nervous laughs as they hoped that I was only joking. I assured them that I was not joking and, after some persuasion they finally helped in the cake making effort. When I say helped, I have never seen eggs broken and added to the mixture through a small hole in the bottom of the shell and have also never seen such a lacklustre effort made to cream a mixture. All this went on under the malevolent glare of a few of the girls, still unhappy, standing at the door of the kitchen with their arms crossed defiantly. If they were hoping to see some sorrow in my face they were disappointed.
Soon the cake was ready for the oven and in it went, with cries of “It doesn’t look right”. “You’ve ruined it.” and many more I have erased from my memory.
Despite all the valiant hopes of the youngsters that the Victoria Sponge that was not a Chocolate Cake would be ruined thereby giving them some small measure of vindication, it popped out of the oven 20 minutes later no less than perfect. You might think that that would be the end of our woes, but sadly it was not to be.
The traditional method of filling and topping of a Victoria Sponge is jam in the middle and icing sugar on top. Generations will testify to the unblemished nature of this method and the exquisite taste therein. However, for the sake of my teenagers I was prepared to use whatever filling and topping they desired. Somewhat naively I considered this to be a good ploy. Of course I didn’t count on the fact that 10 teenage girls are not readily going to come to a unanimous decision. Not knowing the meaning of the word unanimous probably also doesn’t help.
“We can fill it with jam” I started “ but I’ve also got skooshy cream and chocolate spread so we….”
“Eurgh it’s not Nutella” said one “I’m not eating that.”
“OK, I’ll put it away so what will we do then?”
“We should use jam” said another starting to enthusiastically dump dollops of jam all over the cake and spread it in.
“That’s not fair” a small voice wailed “I’m allergic to jam and she always gets what she wants and I never do”.
This may of course have been “It’s just so unfair” from earlier on but I forget.
“But it’s got to be jam” said the enthusiastic spreader of the sticky stuff.
“Well I don’t like it, and I also don’t like Chocolate spread or cream so that means I can’t have any. It’s just (you will now be able to fill in the blanks).
Her cries were then taken up by all ten girls each arguing with one another about what should or should not go on the cake and the reasons for each thing meaning the ruination of the cake for each individual. Eventually I cut through their cries, but not with the jammy knife because that would just have been messy.
“Right, that’s enough” I said. “I’ve had it up to here with you lot. I’m going to take the cake into work tomorrow and give it to people who will appreciate it since you certainly don’t. Out of my way”. As I bore down on the cake the opinions of the girls remarkably gelled as one as if exposed to extra strong jam making pectin.
“OK” they said, and I could see real fear in their eyes “we’ll eat it ourselves”. At that all thoughts of allergies and personal dislikes were miraculously lost and the cake was reduced to a few paltry crumbs in less than five minutes. It was a truly remarkable transformation.
After that they went home and I thank singledom that I don’t have to take one home myself.
The best quote of the night came at the end from one of the girls in the older group who had been watching their antics and stuck her head round the door as they were leaving and said “You guys suck”!
On the basis of Monday night’s performance I was very inclined to agree.
9 comments:
I think your previous post's title described this activity quite well - "Pulling Teeth," for it sounded like pulling teeth could be slightly easier than trying to please 10 teenage girls!!
Crystal xx
It certainly could be Crystal. You can never please teenagers no matter how hard you try.
As a mummy of 3 and teacher of too many, you have my heartfelt empathy, they really are selfish little feckers aren't they ?
You have the patience of a saint.
Can I just add that at school, I got a B+ for my Victoria sandwich.
I disagree. I find victoria sponges more than onerous, I find them impossible. And until the day comes that you win plaudits for cakes that sink so much that they take up less volume that the raw mixture, I fear they will remain so.
You managed that situation without once pushing the Victoria Sponge full-force into an ingrate teenage face.
I cannot guarantee that I would have showed such restraint. You are to be applauded, Gwen.
Give them something real to complain about--chop off their hands.
Grrr-= teenagers...were we like that????
Thanks Auntie Gwen I couldn't agree more.
I'm very impressed Five Centres - that's better than I ever got.
I have to say Omega Mum that I was surprised at just how good it turned out - baking isn't as easy as its made out.
Actually ISBW I would have loved to see you shoving the cake into their faces and their reactions would have been fantastic to see.
Well Graeme I could have done but it would hav been a bit messy to clean up.
I hope we weren't like that Kelly but the memory does get a bit more selective the further we move from the teenage years.
Post a Comment