I know that I’ve already posted a link in my blog to a “Fifteens” recipe, but I’ve often thought how much fun it would be, to post my own recipe, for the benefit of those who weren’t born and reared in Northern Ireland.
Leah and I used to make these together in Sam’s House when we were in Bristol and everybody loved them. I write about Leah’s Bristol baking sessions here and here.
Of course, everyone knows that the ability to make “Fifteens” is part of the birthright of those born in the “six counties” and in some of the neighbouring counties too. These simple to make and tasty treats are served at almost every social occasion here: birthday parties, coffee mornings, christenings, church functions, and wakes etc etc.
They are traditionally made with cherries, but Leah didn’t like cherries, so we make ours with chocolate chips.
INGREDIENTS:
400g digestive biscuits
397g tin condensed milk
50g choc chips/chunks
50g mini marshmallows
Some desiccated coconut for rolling out
First assemble all the required ingredients.
Then crush the digestive biscuits. I usually do this by placing them inside a clean plastic bag and hammering them with a rolling pin.
Children and spouses can generally be persuaded to help with this part.
Then place all the ingredients except the coconut in a bowl and mix thoroughly with a spoon.
Shake some coconut on a clean worktop and place the mixture on top.
Use your hands to gather the mixture into a sausage shape, rolling it in the coconut as you do so.
Place on a tray in the fridge for a few hours, or overnight, until it’s firm.
Then cut them into slices approximately 15mm thick.
Place each slice in a bun case.
When I am giving these as gifts to people, I package them up nicely. These boxes and tags were bought in my local Pound Shop.
Sometimes, if I want to make them “girlie”, I sprinkle some edible glitter in through the coconut. I usually buy this in Poundland, I love their Jane Asher range.
If you like other ingredients, such as chopped nuts, you could add these as well.
The only limit is your imagination.
P.S. I have recently added a step-by-step ‘no-bake’ recipe for Chocolate Bird’s Nests that you may also be interested in. Click here to go straight to the page.
There he was, lying on his bed, dressed in his Batman suit.
The last time I met Caiden he looked very unwell. Now he looked so perfect. His silky black hair had grown back. His skin was clear like porcelain. His facial expression was so peaceful.
For Caiden there will be no more chemotherapy or radiotherapy, no more graft vs host disease, no more special diets, no more oxygen cannulas, central lines and nasogastric tubes, no more pain.
For Caiden’s mum, dad, sister, Granda, aunts, uncles, extended family & friends, there is grief and heartache. Grief is the pain that goes on hurting.
For those who loved Caiden there will be forever a Caiden shaped hole in their hearts and in their lives.
I woke this morning feeling surprisingly strong. As I prepared to go to work, my daily Bible readings brought me comfort.
However as I drove down the road I noticed two little girls in fancy dress waiting on the school bus. In front of them was a proud Granda taking photographs of them.
That’s when my emotional floodgates opened and my heart just broke afresh.
I thought of Caiden lying so peaceful and so still in his Batman outfit.
I remembered my own little girl, once six years old, innocently climbing the steps of the school bus dressed as Tinkerbell, hair in two plaits, looking as cute as can be.
Leah just loved to dress up, mostly as a princess. When asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, her answer as a little girl invariably used to be “a princess”.
I corrected her one day and said “But Leah you have to work at something.” She immediately replied “No mummy, princesses don’t work.” I couldn’t answer that one.
Leah used to photocopy her favourite pages from this book and stick them into a notebook in which she recorded verses and sayings that encouraged her. Here’s an excerpt from Leah’s notebook:
Somehow, our little girl was right – she never did grow up to work at paid employment.
At the age of 16 she became a forever princess, worshipping the King of Kings.
For the benefit of those who read this and don’t live locally, I would like to say a bit about Leah’s wake and funeral.
Leah came home on Friday (17th January) and as I said previously she was laid out in her blue formal dress in a white coffin with pale pink satin trim.
Her coffin was open in her bedroom. Surrounding her coffin on the bed were items symbolizing the different aspects and stages of her life.
These included her Girl’s Brigade hoodie and armband, her L.O.S.T. polo shirt, her school tie, items associated with Ballykelly C.O.I. Banter, her Baby Books and various photo collages.
Her pink fairy lights adorned the top of her bed and her Spotify playlist played softly in the background.
Many hundreds visited our house to pay their respects.
Visitors to our house included family, friends, neighbours, work colleagues, friends of friends, tradesmen who had worked on the house or supplied materials, the staff of Leah’s Primary & Secondary schools & people from the various youth organisations she was involved with and representatives of Sinn Fein, SDLP, & DUP – we have always encouraged our children to respect everyone’s cultural backgrounds & everyone was very welcome.
An army of women manned the kitchen and served tea, sandwiches & traybakes (cakes and biscuits, mostly homemade) to every visitor. Sandwiches, cakes, biscuits, home baking, milk, tea bags all miraculously appeared in the kitchen thanks to the kindness of friends, family and neighbours.
Soup, stew and other more substantial meals were also provided for us. Neighbours erected temporary signs giving directions to the wake and offering their driveways for “wake parking” – one of the many lovely things about rural Ireland is how everyone pulls together in a crisis.
On the Sunday morning family members gathered in Leah’s room for a time of reflection & prayer before the coffin was closed.
Neighbours & friends gathered outside the house. Then the men of the family including Nic took it in turns to carry Leah’s coffin to the road and we walked a short distance behind the hearse.
When we had driven to the main road the police (PSNI) were there ready to stop the traffic & stood to salute as the hearse pulled out into the traffic.
At Kilfennan Presbyterian Church an estimated 1,100 -1,200 gathered for the final farewell. The Girls Brigade Company had formed a Guard of Honour outside the church.
Members of the congregation had worked hard to set up relay systems outside and in overflow rooms and everything was done to perfection.
Funerals aren’t meant to be beautiful but Leah’s funeral service was beautiful – everyone says it was such a fitting tribute to who she was.
Terry Smith our church organist played the first hymn – the extended Smith family have been a great source of support to us on this journey.
The remaining music was played by “Under Construction” of which Leah’s cousin Peter is a member – Leah loved hearing them play. They were absolutely brilliant.
Rev Rob Craig, then present Moderator of the Presbyterian Church gave the address, he has known Leah from birth and everything he said reflected who she was.
Leah’s coffin was carried out of the church to one of the latest songs by Rend Collective – her favourite Christian band – called “My Lighthouse“.
After the committal at Ballyoan Cemetery, everyone was invited back to the church hall where another army of women served tea, a finger buffet and home baking (including gluten-free) to hundreds of people.
Horace and I got a chance to speak to a lot of people but unfortunately, we couldn’t get around everyone.
I would like to introduce you to yet another song that Leah and I listened to a lot, especially in Bristol.
You may ask “How come you listened to so much music?” The past 9 months have contained a lot of waiting, lot of “hanging about” and a lot of being away from home.
When Leah was well enough she used a lot of this time to study for her GCSEs, but there were many times when neither of us could barely concentrate to read or watch TV and that just leaves silence.
Sometimes silence is good – when it’s a peaceful stillness. However, when you are virtually living on a Children’s Cancer Ward and your child is unwell and everyone else’s child is unwell, silence can become a vacuum into which unwelcome thoughts crowd.
In Bristol, during those times when no words were left, I would get into Leah’s hospital bed and cuddle up beside her and this song always seemed to soothe us: “Oceans” by Hillsong
“Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You’ve never failed and You won’t start now”
My Journey: 