It started in 2011. I had a toddler, a new baby, and we had just moved back into our renovated but not-quite-finished cottage. My partner was working long hours and I was home alone with two small children, through the dismal days of an Irish winter. My solution to the gloom was simple: I was going to invent a new Christmas tradition.
I had spent my childhood in family kitchens, whether it was making toast on Nana’s farmhouse AGA, visiting Granny at her kitchen in town, or in our own home, helping out with Saturday morning baking.
Christmas brought all those kitchens into sharper focus with a flurry of cakes, puddings and mincemeat being made in the months leading up to the festivities.
Most of the work took place in Nana’s kitchen. The biggest cream and brown bowl was full of fragrant mixtures, rows of battered cake tins lined with greaseproof paper, pudding bowls to be filled and jars ready for mincemeat. The air was full of sweetness and spice, and the kitchen was the warm centre of our universe.
New traditions
But those were traditions from my own childhood. I wanted to do something different, something lighter, something more 21st century. On a whim, I decided that two-year-old Hannah and I would make a gingerbread house. I knew that gingerbread was simpler than cakes and puddings. Building a house, however, was going to be a challenge.
I decided to make it easier by sourcing a Wilton’s gingerbread house mould from a baking website. It cost €39.95, a fortune to me in 2011, but I called it an investment. Year one wasn’t easy. The double-sided mould has to be used for three bakes: one to make the gable end pieces and twice for the roof and sides. Interrupted by feeds, naps and nappy changes, the toddler was very involved. Between eating bits of gingerbread dough, she pressed it carefully into the mould with pudgy little fingers. After baking, we triumphantly removed the gingerbread pieces from the mould.
Just making and baking the dough took two days, and I was starting to have major regrets. I took a deep breath and started assembling the pieces. Using a bag of instant royal icing powder and with a lot of patience, I stuck the house together in stages over a few days. Fortunately, the royal icing held.
For the final flourish, we used wine gums to decorate a house that looked distinctly like the cottage that we had lived in pre-renovation. It was put on display before moving to my parents’ house for the family Christmas.
In year two, Hannah didn’t have to be reminded: as soon as the Christmas decorations came out, the gingerbread house was on her mind. This time, I worked cleverly: I broke the job down into tasks – making dough, baking, assembling and decorating – and did them with Hannah over a longer period of time. That was the first time we had little Maya involved in stirring the dough, but it was still Hannah’s project: a house that she bejewelled with jelly tots to match her striped dress.
Sneaking tastes
By 2014, what they called “the gingerbread man’s house” was firmly entrenched in our family calendar. Rather than feeling under pressure, I realised the key to enjoying the process was to take it slowly and let them help with everything. There are no award-winning cake decorators in this family, but the girls are a dab hand at decorating with bags of colourful sweets.
Each year, the gingerbread house is proudly brought to my parents’ house for Christmas dinner. It has become part of our family lore, the little fingers and small hands becoming more dexterous and independent year after year. Now, the girls are teenagers, but the ritual endures. No matter what, we always have a gingerbread house to share with family. Is it a lot of work? Yes, but it’s worthwhile work, that we do together.
Sometimes, kitchen life isn’t about getting food on the table quickly. Sometimes it’s about slowing down and making memories. And, while we might never make the most elegant gingerbread house, to us it's perfect in all its ramshackle glory.
Makes one gingerbread house
This makes enough dough for one house in a Wilton gingerbread mould, if you are lucky enough to have one. If not, never fear! You can find Irish Country Living Food's
gingerbread farm template by scanning the QR code below.
Ingredients
350g plain flour
½ teaspoon bread soda
½ teaspoon salt
1½ teaspoons ground ginger
1½ teaspoons ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground nutmeg – freshly ground is best
½ teaspoon ground cloves
125g butter
100g granulated sugar
175g black treacle
1 egg, beaten
Method
1. Measure the flour, bread soda, salt and spices into a large bowl and whisk together. Put the butter, sugar and black treacle into a heavy-based saucepan and warm over a medium heat until everything is melted and just about to bubble. Remove from the heat and allow to cool for 5 minutes so that it doesn’t cook the egg.
2. Beat the egg into the warm mixture until thoroughly mixed, then stir in the dry ingredients. Everyone in the house needs to take a turn at this (no matter what kind of mess they make) so that they can make a wish while stirring. Beware of small fingers dipping in too frequently for a tasting – that sweet, spicy treacle flavour is hard to resist.
3. Scrape dough into an airtight container and refrigerate for at least 2 hours before using, or overnight. We often freeze it at this stage.
4. For the gingerbread house mould, preheat the oven to 180°C (fan 160°C). Oil one side of the mould lightly and then press the dough into the pan. Small fingers are good for this. Bake for 20-25 minutes until the dough has puffed up a little, receded from the edges and smells glorious. Let it cool for 5 minutes before carefully removing the pieces from the moulds. Repeat twice.
5. To make gingerbread people or shapes: preheat the oven to 180°C (fan 160°C) and line some baking trays with greaseproof paper. Roll the dough out to a thickness of ½ cm on a lightly floured surface and stamp out as many shapes as you have cookie cutters. Place on the baking trays. We sometimes apply sprinkles to the surface of the uncooked dough at this stage so that they bake into the finished gingerbread.
6. Bake for 12-15 minutes until cooked through. Then cool on a wire rack before decorating as desired.
1. Make: weigh, melt and mix the simple dough, allowing everyone their turn at stirring. That’s enough for today. Decanted into an airtight container, it will sit happily in the fridge for a few days and freezes well.
2. Bake: whether you’re using a mould or a template that you’ve found online, this does take time. Allow plenty and let the children help. It’s a good tempered dough and will put up with a lot of mauling and re-rolling.
3. Assemble: the valuable cementing properties of a packet of royal icing powder cannot be underestimated. Use it to build the house in two stages. Using a piping bag or small palette knife, stick the walls together, holding them steady with suitably sized tins and jars. Allow to set. When everything is steady – this can take a few hours or overnight – add the roof. Make sure that it is supported and allow to set again. Save the leftover royal icing for the next stage.
4. Decorate: this happens when the structure is solid. Take a trip to the local shop and set the children free in the sweet aisle. Use icing to stick the house to a serving plate and to add as many decorations as desired.
To access Irish Country Living Food's gingerbread farm template, scan the QR code below
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