If I had to guess what tops the list ‘most popular New Year’s resolutions’, my bet would be on culinary sins somewhere in the top three. Impressionable as I am, I made a pledge to reduce my intake of sweet treats to maybe six days a week (if you can have a day for treats, why not one for non-treats?) and, if not stop, at least postpone the ever-more-likely oncoming of type II diabetes that I was steadily eating my way towards. Last year was spent being tempted by culinary dessert miracles brought to me by John’s buttery, distracted by the goldmine of recipies I use to procrastinate and striving to be even a little bit like Bake Off goddess Mary Berry. So far, so good – it’s the thought that counts, anyway. But then along came a foodie column in the only independent student newspaper in Cambridge. And come New Year’s Eve, I had at least a kilo of Christmas chocolates to go and no intention of leaving them unfinished going into 2016.

Call me cynical, but I applaud anyone who makes it through January clinging onto that pledge to smoke/ [insert deadly sin here] less / hand in essays on time/ learn Sanskrit more. So, instead of failing at my only-six-days-a-week-of-treats challenge, I decided to avoid the impeding failure by a tried-and-tested, fool-proof method: embracing happiness in the form of sugar and the extra layer of warmth I grew over Christmas through the excessive consumption of mince pies.

One of the reasons for abandoning any hope of an even remotely healthy blood sugar level was my long-lasting love of mug cakes. The cakes made in mugs, microwaved to perfection in only minutes, are in so many ways created for the Cambridge environment. All you need to get going is a very basic set of baking equipment (I’m talking spoon and mug here) and ingredients: there is no need to despair when Sainsbury’s Basics doesn’t have soya beans on offer, and even Taste the Difference fails to provide you with yuzu. Even the dingiest of colleges will have a microwave hidden away somewhere, and no fancy apps like the much sought-after oven setting are needed. What better way to sweeten the deal of returning from a vacation of essays to a term of, well, more of the same?

Now, in the age of the Bake Off where bread can be sculpted into Tracey Emin’s My Bed, and an ancient Chinese village portrayed through the technique of sticky toffee pudding, it is a bit surprising that mug cakes have been on what looks like a very successful invasion campaign from the baking world (and not only Cambridge gyp rooms) in the past few years. Yet, there is a satisfaction to spooning sugar, butter, and eggs into a mug and then watching the mixture grow into a cupful of sugary bliss. Also, looking at the cutesy visuals of mug cake bibles such as Mima Sinclair’s Mug Cakes or Lene Knudsen’s equally aptly named Mug Cakes, I can see why the fast food of baking is taking over shelf space from Le Cordon Bleu – sweetness on all fronts.

One of my absolute favourite recipes is simple even in mug cake terms, and as such provides the perfect antidote for start-of-term blues: there is no need to buy an industrial size pack of an ingredient which you will use only a spoonful of nor any pressure to subject yourself to physical exertion like grating carrots.

All you need is a single trip to Sainsbury’s, a few minutes of your time, and you’re good to go for a termful of – drumroll, please...

ONE MINUTE MICROWAVE CHOCOLATE MUG CAKE

For one mug, you will need:

- 6 squares of chocolate (or more, if you prefer death by chocolate; choose milk chocolate for a sweeter flavour, and dark for a fuller experience)

- 1 slice of butter, about 1 cm thick

- 1 egg

- 2 tbsp sugar

- ½ tsp vanilla extract (although don’t make an effort to and hike to your local supermarket just for this; the cake works perfectly well without this)

- 4½ tbsp plain flour

- ½ tsp baking powder

Melt the butter and chocolate in your chosen mug for about 30 to 40 seconds (in the microwave, if you hadn’t caught onto that already).

Add the remaining ingredients, mix very well, and microwave for about a minute and 20 seconds, and, voilà, your chocolatey sugar fix awaits.

No, it’s not your Michelin-star chocolate cake and I am no Nigella – but sometimes in baking, as in life (and New Year’s resolutions or the lack thereof) simple is best.