So obviously the whole daily thoughts thing didn’t work out. But I have a couple of very reasonable reasons as to why I shirked my self-imposed and equally self-indulgent writing responsibilities that really benefit nobody. Number one, I had to make a trip interstate over the weekend, and my Saturday night involved somewhat overly-hydrated chips with strangers, my Sunday morning involved free eggs and the always-fantastic Bad Santa, and my Sunday night involved n RACQ patrol vehicle and a very late homecoming. Number two (this is perhaps the most forgivable of the reasons), it’s Christmas.

And it wouldn’t be Christmas if I wasn’t over-tired and baking at inappropriate hours of the night (it’s currently 11.10pm).

And so, in an act of solidarity with you, dear reader (Phoebe and Mum) I am letting you join in with me, in both spirit and olfactory sensation. And as I have exhausted all creative ability by using alliteration with “writing” and “responsibilities” (I’m very impressive), I can’t be arsed to write an actual column at this time.

So here’s a recipe I prepared earlier just for you.

Maybs clean up the filthy words if you’re showing it to your mum. Or not, if she’s a cool mum. If that’s the case, tell her I have BOTH Richard Gere and Julia Roberts and send her over.

You will need:

2 and a half cups of plain flour (before we start, I adapted some measurements from weights because the scales take too damn long to operate and they cause for a really annoying putting away measure in the Maguire kitchen. So there may be a time when you need a little more flour, or a little less. Usually it is more, because I a pretty godamn gluttonous when it comes to the butter measurement.)

1 cup of brown sugar

5 heaped tablespoons of margarine

1 heaped tablespoon of butter

1 beaten egg

4 tablespoons of golden syrup (this shit is sticky and you can never fully get the full tablespoon off the tablespoon, so I just throw in about an extra spoonful to balance that out. But that is your call to make, you may just find a better way to measure out the syrup.)

2 teaspoons of ground ginger

2 teaspoons of baking soda

half a teaspoon of nutmeg

half a teaspoon of mixed spices

half a teaspoon of cinnamon

an oven

a big bowl

a saucepan of a just bigger than small size

mixing implements

Christmas cheer

A sifter

Trays

Baking paper (because foil is a foolish alternative)

The Home Alone soundtrack to play in the background (Mariah Carey’s or Bing Crosby’s Christmas albums will also suffice. Rod Stweart is fine, but I wouldn’t go for a So Fresh Christmas Hits because they allow any kind of smut to fill the gaps. Sure, they may have Destiny’s Child and maybe ONE classic, but the rest is shithouse and you don’t want that vibe to go into your gingerbread – it will make the biscuits flat, just like the sound of someone killing Santa Baby (someone who is either Eartha Kitt or Kylie Minogue. Kylie actually nails the slutty Chrismtas songs).

-1) I forgot to put this in, until I got to step 11, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to go through and change all the numbers now. Pre-heat the oven. Very important!

1) First thing you’re going to want to do is turn the oven to about 170 degrees Celsius. Now, I have a fan forced oven so perhaps you need to go a little hotter.

2) Crack egg into cup. Ensure egg is not stillborn chicken. Beat unfertilised chicken egg with a fork. Set aside.

3) Grab your big ass bowl and start sifting dat flour into it. Then mix ONE teaspoon of the baking soda. The ginger goes in now too. I always take the opportunity to spice up my life a little by being less than gingerly with the ginger. Meaning, I sprinkle in a little or a lot extra, depending on my mood. I also throw in the spices, the nutmeg and the cinnamon. Obviously, this is a recipe and not a binding contract, so please don’t feel like you have to stick to the ticket – go with the gut if it tells you things. (Actually, this is FILLED with gluten, which means that your gut may just speak to you a lot. I’m concerned. I take NO responsibility for any discomfort you may feel after ingesting this gingerbread.) Beat this gently with a fork until just combined and then make a bit of a well in the middle. Put that to the left (next to the box with everything you own).

4) Now it’s time to break out the saucepan, and by that I mean, grab the saucepan and your butter and imitation butter. Butter up that saucepan boy! Then add the syrup and the brown sugar (I put the butter in first in case the saucepan is too hot and burns the sugar products. That’s not good. The butter forms a gentle, fattening layer of protection, which cushions the blow for the sugars and helps them to succeed in dissolving. I guess the butter is the wind beneath sugar’s wings, which would make butter the Hilary Whitney from Beaches and the sugar would be C.C. Bloom – clearly because Bette Midler’s hair is bright orange for most of the movie so it’s an easy way to remember. This story much less sad than Beaches. I suggest you watch it if you haven’t already seen it.)

5) Gently heat up the contents of the saucepan on a medium/low heat. I turn the dial about a quarter of the way round. Keep stirring that bitch until the butter is all melted and the sugar is dissolved. I want that heart attack-inducing broth to be smooth, you hear!

6) Sprinkle the second teaspoon of baking soda into the saucepan, and turn the heat up a notch or two. I put it up to a whisker off half way (on the lower side of half, not the hotter). Keep stirring, but much more slowly. After a while, the mixture will start to get a little lighter in colour, expand and feel a little airy. This is a good thing. Keep stirring gently until you get to a point where you’re a little nervous to let it continue.

7) Remove the saucepan from the hotplate and pour about half of the mixture into the water-less well you made in you bowl of flour and friends. Then tip in the egg. Stir that for a little bit immediately in case the egg starts to cook in the mixture (this has never happened to me, but I have imagined what it would be like and I imagined a broken Dannielle in it’s aftermath).

8) Pour in the rest of the saucy mix and stir completely.

9) Here’s where you need to use your best judgement as a baker. Sometimes, this is all you need to do, sometimes, the mixture is a little on the runny side and will need more flour. It should form a dough, but it shouldn’t be overly stiff – it should be flaccid enough to feel like a biscuit and not bread (because gingerbread is not really bread – it’s a massive misrepresentation of the product, but that’s what it’s called and I can’t change that). If you can’t grab a bit off without having it run through your fingers, I’d suggest adding more flour. But only sift in a bit at a time. Now is the time for gingerliness.

10) Forget that shit you saw mothers doing on Christmas movies where they roll out the biscuit mix and get fucking flour everywhere. Those women were dickheads. All of them. Because all you need to do moisten your hands with a bit of water and roll clumps of dough into balls and place them on a tray. I know gingerbread men are cute, but fuck me they are way less fluffy and delightful than a ball of the stuff. And if we want to get all feminist here (which I almost certainly always want to do), all we really need from men are the balls anyway.

11) Set your timer for about fifteen minutes. Check after about 12. They should start going a bit brown at this time. I wouldn’t say that you’re aiming for golden brown, but more of a tan. Think about three or four shades darker. You don’t want to go to far because you can’t exfoliate burnt off.

12) Cool the little bastards. Now, if they feel a little soft, don’t be concerned, they should be super spongy. They WILL firm up. Just try not to handle them too much or they will be indented and scarred for life (daddy issues, commitment problems, the works!)

13) … you know what to do.