I never thought a fig roll would nearly make me cry, but here we are. It's like an ambush in the British aisle of Coles. You never thought you'd miss them, but here we are. If you grew up in the UK , you'll know the fig roll. Not glamorous. Not the biscuit anyone fought over in the tin. That honour went to the chocolate digestives, and even then only if you asked. Mum always bought the plain chocolate ones, and because none of us liked dark chocolate, they were safe in the tin for days. The fig rolls never needed asking for. Nobody was fighting over those. But it was always there, wasn't it? Mum's biscuit barrel, the school tuck shop, the bottom of a lunchbox next to a slightly squashed sandwich. Unassuming, a bit old-fashioned, and somehow exactly what you wanted when nothing else would do. I've been making my own fig jam for a while now, low and slow, the kind of thing that makes the whole kitchen smell like someone's granny is cooking. And the other day I stood there with a jar of it and thought, that's a fig roll. That's just a fig roll waiting to happen. So I turned it into a blondie. If the jam sounds familiar, it's because it's the same one in the cookbook, Merry Figgin' Christmas Jam, page 29. Figs from the tree in my garden, honey from our own bees, a bit of cinnamon and clove to warm it up. Proper old-fashioned, the way my mum always did it. I've just found a new home for it. Fig Roll Blondie. A buttery, golden blondie base, ribboned through with my own fig jam, baked until it's just set enough to hold together and just gooey enough to fall apart when you cut it. It tastes like the biscuit tin. It tastes like being small and sat on someone's kitchen floor waiting for the oven timer to go off. This is what I love about baking the food I miss. You take something small and slightly forgotten, something nobody ever really wrote home about, and you give it a proper moment. The fig roll never asked to be the star. But it's earned it. You'll find these in The Cake Shed as soon as they're ready, but I know a lot of you like to bake along at home too, so here's how I make them. FIG ROLL BLONDIES Time: 50 minutes, plus cooling | Makes: 12 chunky bars | Tin: 20 cm square Blondie
Method 1. Heat the oven to 170°C conventional or 160°C fan. Line a 20 cm square tin with baking paper. 2. Whisk the melted butter, brown sugar and caster sugar until smooth. 3. Add the eggs and vanilla and whisk until glossy. 4. Sift in the flour, cornflour, baking powder and salt. Fold until just combined. 5. Fold through the white chocolate and chopped Fig Rolls. 6. Spread half the mixture into the tin. 7. Warm the fig jam very slightly so it's easy to spread. Spoon it over the blondie, leaving about 1 cm clear around the edge. 8. Carefully spread the remaining blondie mixture over the top. Flatten spoonfuls of dough between your fingers before placing them over the jam if needed. 9. Bake for 27 to 30 minutes, until golden around the edges but still slightly soft in the centre. 10. Leave to cool completely in the tin. 11. Melt the white chocolate and spread it over the top. Scatter with the chopped Fig Rolls and dried figs, if using. 12. Chill until the chocolate has set, then cut into 12 chunky bars. My tip: keep the fig jam as a pocket through the centre rather than swirling it all the way through. When you cut the bar, you get a lovely stripe of fig right through the middle. Looks proper too. If you'd rather skip the oven altogether, these will be landing in The Cake Shed soon. I'll post when they're in, but if you're one of the fig roll faithful (and I know there are more of you than admit to it in public), keep an eye out. This jam is taken from my cookbook, Pork Pies & the Perfect Pickle, 260 pages of the British comfort food we grew up with, now available to order online and on Amazon. Order your copy here Leigh x
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