Can you please bake us something nice next week?, he asked, as I was about to leave work.

What do you think I’ve been doing for the past couple of weeks? I said.

Oh you know.., he replied coyly, I’m just asking because it’s all been really good and we’ve gotten so used to it.

Well Dave, it’s true. Flattery does get you everywhere some times.

Flattery, that takes the form of big red cake-crumbed lips kissing you on the cheek. Just like the way I want to hug and kiss Dana for one of the most unusual additions I’ve ever seen, to a cake. I mean, tomato ketchup? I brought this cake in to work because I make treats for my work colleagues (also known as ‘the boys’) every day, and thought this might serve as an unusual and special dessert.

The reaction to the cake was initially hostile, especially since none of them was familiar with red velvet cake, which this recipe is based on. Thankfully, they are all sufficiently hungry (or greedy) enough people to be curious, and so the cake proved to be a success in the end. The flavour of ketchup is not as strong as you would expect, but it is detectable (and not unpleasant) and to quote one of my fearless taste-testers, Mitch, “the following bites just lent to spice notes, similar to carrot cake we all decided..”

Intrigued? You can try the recipe for yourself here.

I must confess that I am a creature of habit. Given that there are seven days in a week, it’s not uncommon for me to wear the same kind of thing seven days in a row. Or eat the same two-pieces-of-toast-and-a-wedge-of-cheese every morning. I like my toilet paper fixed to cascade forwards and always check my alarm clock twice before bed.

However, sometimes I wake up kicking at the covers, scrambling to shut the shrilling clock, and fall straight back against the pillow, willing the sun to forget to rise. That’s when I know I need a bit of change in my day. A change from the people with their dehydrated smiles. Change from walking down the same street to work every day. A change from trying to please everyone and never quite succeeding to please anyone.

When I’m in need of such a change, I bake, because afterall, I am a creature of habit.

These Sarsaparilla scones are based on Belinda Jeffery’s recipe for lemonade scones. The lemonade is there more to help with aeration, rather than provide flavour, so I figured I could substitute it with other fizzy substances. Gingerbeer works well, with buttermilk instead of cream (but the scones will be flatter, due to the batter being wetter), as does Sarsaparilla, which also adds a certain hard-to-describe something to the overall flavour of the scone.

Sarsaparilla Scones :
(adapted from a recipe by Belinda Jeffery)

375g self-raising flour
160g wholemeal self-raising flour
50g caster sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
80g mixed peel or sultanas
250ml cream
250ml Sarsaparilla

Combine both the flours, sugar, salt and mixed in a large bowl. Make a well in the middle of the flour mixture and pour in the cream and Sarsaparilla. Gently fold the ingredients together, then tip out onto a floured surface. With your hands, pat the dough out to a 5cm thickness, and use a scone cutter to stamp out the scones.

Place the scones on a lined tray, brush the tops with a little milk (optional) and bake in a preheated 200’C oven for about 20 minutes until golden.