What's all this, then?

It's a blob of cake mix, that's what it is. Cake mix that erupted at slow, slo-o-o-ow speed from the wrong-sized springform tin, and would have coated the bottom of my none-too-clean oven with a mass of black baking-lava, had I not had the belated good sense to slide a baking tray onto the shelf beneath.

Result? Something unpretty but surprisingly delicious, tasting delicately of ground almonds.

And a good texture. Shame about the shape, and the rest of the oozing lava deciding to stick to the shelf instead of dropping downwards.

But even unprettier is the wreck of the plum and almond crumble cake that burst its banks owing to the baker being a mindless twit, making up recipes as she went along, watching The Politics Show on the kitchen telly, and blithely adding a layer of spiced crumble mix to an already-full tin.

Despite this disaster, the house smells very nicely of plums, and almonds, and buttery cake. Who knows, the finished article (the word 'finished' being used loosely here) could even be edible, once it has cooled enough to be poked into. Custard and spoons may be required rather than genteel little cake forks, but, as the rain and wind lash the windows, I can tell myself truthfully that it's just the weather for a nice hot pud.

There may not be further pictures to follow; I still have some remnants of self-respect.