The teddy bears were all excited because today was a special day in May. It was Mummy Bear’s birthday, which made it an extra-beary special day.
To celebrate the day and to give her a break from chasing after teddy bears, Daddy Bear whisked her away for a nice dinner at a restaurant and then to spend a relaxing night at a fancy hotel close to the beach. He left strict instructions for all the bears to behave themselves in the meantime.
As if that was going to deter Davey Jones, DJ, aka Number One troublemaker. DJ was the undisputed ringleader of the bear rabble. He and his loyal minions called themselves the Bear Rebels.
DJ decided that the teddy bears should do something for Mummy Bear. Despite all this incorrigible naughtiness, DJ loved Mummy Bear beary much. He was the very first bear to choose her to be his Mummy. Teddy bears are much like kitty cats in that way: they do their own thing, get around everywhere and choose their own mummies and daddies.
He called an Extraordinary General Meeting of all the Upstairs Bears and Downstairs Bears. Even the honorary bears (i.e. non-bears) were included.
‘We must do something beary nice for Mummy. I want ideas, troops,’ DJ ordered, opening the EGM without further preamble.
‘Woof,’ said Duke at once, the dog-bear who spoke “dog”.
‘Kisses are always good,’ agreed Alfie, one of the Triple-As, the triplet bears.
‘Giff-giff?’ asked Giffy the leggy giraffe.
‘Cuddles are good too,’ said Big Al, another of Triple-As. ‘Mummy likes cuddles.’
‘How about cake?’ Charlie suggested.
‘Eeee – cakey!’ squealed Zacky in delight.
CJ, aka Surfy-bear, nodded. ‘Cakes are beary good.’
‘Mmm, num-nums,’ crooned BJ, aka Baby-bear.
There was a chorus of “num-nums” in agreement from the other bears. DJ nodded; pleased they had reached a general consensus. They were going to make a cake.
‘But how do we make a cake?’ Alan, the third triplet, asked the gazillion dollar question.
‘Mummy’s got lots of cooking books,’ said Wilson, looking up at the tall black bookcase.
Bren, a curly-furred dark brown bear and little blondie Wilson clambered up the bookcase in the living room where Mummy Bear kept her cookbook collection. Perched on the edge of a shelf, Bren pulled out each book for Wilson to scan the pages for pictures of cake. Then they moved on to the next.
‘Nope, no cake, no way,’ Wilson declared, rejecting cookbook after cookbook. Then at last: ‘Yay, here’s cake!’
‘Cake,’ Bren repeated in a satisfied voice and with a deft flick of his dark furry paw, he pushed the cookbooks off the shelves.
The teddy bears below ducked as the books went flying one by one from overhead. Then they crowded in little groups around each book and pored earnestly over the pages, oohing and aahing, plus assorted yums over the glossy, colourful photos.
‘Keep it simple, stupidos,’ DJ told them in a superior tone, who knew all about the KISS principle from Daddy Bear.
‘Look at the ones with the least number of things to do,’ said Charlie, ever the helpful bear.
After an extensive search and much heated arguments, they narrowed down the choices to a fruit cake, banana bread, chocolate mud pie and a strawberry jelly roll. But they still couldn’t come to an agreement. DJ took a vote but being teddy bears, their attention spans were as short as their furry torsos. It was impossible to keep track of the count as everyone kept changing their fuzzy minds every five minutes.
Finally, DJ decided to appeal to a higher authority. He knew who The Expert was on all things baked and yummilicious.
‘I’m contacting the 3 Paws Saloon Bakery,’ he announced. ‘Aunty Val will know what to do.’
As fortune would have it, Mummy Bear had forgotten to logoff her laptop when she was ushered off to the Novotel. Wilson, who had the most dexterous paws, was selected to do the honours. As DJ dictated, his minion’s little paws quickly tapped out an urgent message to Aunty Val at the 3 Paws Saloon Bakery.
**********
From: < bearabble@email.com >
To: < auntyval@3pawssaloonbakery.com >
Subject: Cake
Hey Aunty Val! It’s DJ here!
Me and the Bear Rebels are making a cake for Mummy Bear. It’s her b-day. Can you help?
Which cake’s good – & easy too?
**********
From: < auntyval@3pawssaloonbakery.com >
To: < bearabble@email.com >
Subject: Vanilla Triangle Cake in a Sandwich Maker
Good of you to think of Mummy Bear. Have you looked at the recipes on 3 Paws Saloon Attic? There’s one from Lady Fergie that might suit: Vanilla Triangle Cake in a Sandwich Maker.
Do you have a sandwich maker?
**********
From: < bearabble@email.com >
To: < auntyval@3pawssaloonbakery.com >
Subject: Jaffle Iron
Huh, what sandwich maker? Mummy Bear makes all our sangers (sandwiches).
Oh, you mean jaffle iron?!! Yeah, we’ve got the Breville. It makes squarey toasties we can cut into triangles. That’s jaffles.
The twins, Basil and Barney climbed up on Big Bastian’s shoulders to reach the cupboard. Basil did a bit of a “drop-catch” but Bastian did an awesome save. The corner of the jaffle thingy only dinged a teensy-bit on the corner. It’s all good.
What’s next?
**********
From: < auntyval@3pawssaloonbakery.com >
To: < bearabble@email.com >
Subject: Ingredients
You’ll need:
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
½ cup butter
½ cup caster sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla essence
When you’re ready, I’ll walk through the steps with you.
**********
From: < bearabble@email.com >
To: < auntyval@3pawssaloonbakery.com >
Subject: Butter
We’ve got no butter!
What about the spreading type in a tub? Daddy Bear uses it for his vegemite toast.
**********
From: < auntyval@3pawssaloonbakery.com >
To: < bearabble@email.com >
Subject: Cooking Oil
Don’t worry, DJ. Just use ½ cup cooking oil instead.
All-righty, this is what you do:
Sift flour, baking powder in bowl together. Keep aside.
In another bowl, combine oil and sugar, beat till creamy. Use egg beater if Mummy has hidden the mixer.
Add eggs – so break eggs into bowl (no shell), one at a time, beating well.
Add essence and beat again. Remove beater.
Fold in flour mixture using wooden spoon so that cake batter isn’t lumpy.
Prepare Sandwich Maker or Jaffle Iron. Brush both sides (cooking surface) with cooking oil. Close, preheat and wait for the light to turn red.
Spoon cake batter into each well or hollow until full. Don’t let it overflow.
Close lid and cook for 3-4 minutes, or until golden brown.
Take out the cakes, sprinkle with icing sugar. Serve right away.
**********
Armed with Aunty Val’s instructions, the bear rabble went to work. DJ barked out orders to the troops in his most growly voice like an armchair general. They scattered in all directions throughout the kitchen.
CJ, BJ and Wilson scampered around trying to help the different groups of bears assemble all the stuff required. Their help mostly comprised standing to the side and making helpful little comments. Like “not that way”, “other there”, “to the left” and “more to the right”.
Bren rummaged in the cupboard under the sink and found a big sieve. While Bren held the bowl, Charlie measured the flour and baking powder into the sieve grasped in Zacky’s paws.
‘A-chew!’ Zacky suddenly sneezed. ‘Sorry.’
A cloud descended over Bren, covering his dark brown fur with a fine white dust. Zacky giggled; he couldn’t help it. Bren rubbed at his nose, smearing white streaks over his muzzle.
Charlie frowned, concentrating; he was trying to figure how much flour went onto Bren instead. He decided that just an extra half tablespoon of flour would do. Seeing as Bren wasn’t madly sneezing flour everywhere, it couldn’t have been that much flour gone over him. It was his best guesstimate.
Over at another bowl, the Triple-As were organising the cooking oil and sugar. Big Al went oopsie as Alan splished a bit of oil onto the floor. He skidded merrily from one end of the stone floor to the other.
‘Weeeeee,’ he went. ‘Good fun!’
‘Ooo – lemme try,’ said Alan, having a skid too.
Alfie was left to get the sugar measured out. He managed to get it mostly into the bowl. He also managed to get a nice scoopful over himself.
‘Oh,’ he said, brushing at his sugar-crusted belly. ‘I’m sweet,’ he said, licking at the sugar crystals from his paws.
‘Woof-woof,’ said Duke, the dog-bear, patting at Alfie’s belly and trying to get the sugar out of the shaggy fur.
Giffy the leggy giraffe gambolled up, ready to help as Duke’s faithful sidekick. ‘Giff!’ he yelped, sliding onto all four hooves on the oil slick.
Alan and Big Al tried to help him up, but all three just fell over again. They whooped madly with laughter.
Basil and Barney came over to give Alfie a helping paw, careful to avoid the oily patch and equally oily bears and giraffe. Basil and Alfie held the bowl while Barney, who had firmer muscles (more stuffing), got hold of the egg beater and whirred it over the oil and sugar.
Then Fatty-boy, the footy-mad bear ambled over with the eggs. For all his tubby physique, he had soft paws and was the best at catching footballs. He tapped each egg carefully on the edge of the bowl as he’d watched Mummy Bear do, and remembered to fish out any errant bits of shell with a teaspoon.
‘Aunty Val said “no shell,”’ he said, peering with satisfaction at his achievement.
‘Nice work, Fatty-boy,’ said Basil, taking his turn at the egg beater.
‘Here’s milli-vanilli,’ said Fatty.
‘It’s “vanilla”’, Basil corrected, who knew all the herbs, spices and such stuff.
‘Vanilli,’ Fatty repeated.
Barney shrugged. ‘Close enough.’
Alfie sniffed at the fragrant mixture in the bowl. ‘Smells nice.’
DJ came over to check their handiwork. ‘I think it’s ready for Step 5.’
They brought the bowl over to other side of the black granite kitchen bench-top, where Charlie waited with the sifted flour. Charlie and Zacky held their bowl as a white-dusted Bren scooped the flour into the eggy mixture. Then as Aflie and Fatty steadied the bowl, Charlie, Basil and Barney took turns to stir in the flour until the lumps were worked out and a smooth, creamy batter remained.
Duke and Bren busied themselves pushing the used bowls and other utensils into the sink. There was a near-drowning moment as they almost fell into the sink half-filled with water.
‘Steady,’ said Charlie, grabbing both by the scruffs of their necks. ‘Your face could do with a clean, Bren.’
‘Woof,’ Duke remarked, looking at his paws and then at Alfie.
‘And you and Alfie too,’ Charlie agreed.
He picked up a kitchen towel and dampened a corner in the water, showing Zacky how to do the same. They began a careful dabbing of the bears, trying to give them a quick wipe.
Morgan the Enforcer bear waved his Bad Paw in admonishment at Alan, Big Al and Giffy, who were still blithely fooling around on the oily patch. The threat of the Bad Paw warned off a number of little bears who had been gathered around them, watching with fascination.
The puddy tats and kitt-kats surveyed the various antics with feline disdain. It all seemed untidy, grimy and riotous. They weren’t about to dip a paw into the mess. The clever cats knew better.
‘Everyone stand aside,’ Morgan the Enforcer bear advised as he stepped up to the Breville jaffle iron.
DJ beckoned to CJ, BJ and Wilson. They hastily ushered the others a safer distance away as Morgan opened the jaffle iron (sandwich maker) and cautiously used a pastry brush to coat both sides of the cooking surface with cooking oil. He closed it, turned the on the power to preheat and waited for the light to turn red.
There was an expectant hush as this was the most dangerous part of the operation. Furs could be singed; there could be hot paws and other scary, nasty things could happen. For once, every bear and furry member of the Bear Rabble did as they were told and stayed back.
Andrea, one of the bigger and smarter teddy bears, carefully spooned the creamy cake batter into the hollows. She was mindful of Aunty Val’s instructions not to overfill.
Morgan closed the lid and they let it cook for a while. After a few minutes, he lifted it up and pronounced that the first batch was a success. Perfect golden brown!
Bastian, another of the older and bigger bears, helped Andrea lift out the cakes with a spatula and plonk them on a wire rack that Charlie had set up. Charlie knew things from seeing Mummy Bear do stuff in the kitchen.
‘Don’t forget the icing sugar,’ DJ reminded, referring to Step 9.
Fatty, with his steady paws, used a small sieve to sprinkle the cakes with a fine dusting of icing sugar. There was a collective sigh of appreciation from all assembled at the finished product.
Of they had to taste-test it first. Just to be sure they had the recipe right, of course.
‘Nice num-mums,’ BJ the Bay-bear confirmed.
When Mummy Bear and Daddy Bear came home the next day, they could hardly believe their eyes. The kitchen looked like a war zone, as if a storm with gale-force winds had gone through the place, showering bits of egg shell, sugar and flour, and drops of cake batter all over the granite counter, as well as spilling oil onto the floor. A number of scruffy and grubby figures were sitting in the middle of the mess, happily chomping on cake.
‘Beary Happy Bear-day, Mummy!’ they all chorused, breaking out into song.
DJ sidled up to her. ‘Mummy, we made cake for you,’ he said, proudly showing their handiwork with a flourish. ‘Aunty Val from 3 Paws helped us.’
Mummy Bear looked at the small stack of triangular vanilla cakes, toasted a golden-brown and dusted with powdered sugar. It was beautiful – snowy, pretty and a most delicious sight.
She also looked at the happy, expectant furry faces around her and the well-fed bellies. Her lips twitched.
‘I hope it’s edible,’ Daddy Bear said doubtfully; he held his side as Mummy Bear gave him a quick jab with her elbow.
‘Thank you for the beary happy thought,’ she said. ‘I must thank Aunty Val and Lady Fergie for the recipe idea.’
‘Mmm, not bad,’ said Daddy Bear, munching on cake and handing a piece to Mummy Bear. ‘Don’t worry about cleaning up. The bear rabble will take care of it.’
DJ grimaced as chorus of groans rose all around them. ‘But –’ he began to protest.
‘I’ll give you guys a hand,’ said Daddy Bear firmly, giving DJ a little tweak on his stubby tail. ‘It is good cake after all.’
