Cakes

Cognac Prune Cake and Perfect Pastry – Test Kitchen No. 1

Cakes

Hi Joe,

There are two things on my mind as I start writing this.

It’s beginning to feel like autumn in Glasgow, the air is smelling cold and I like it. Mum said she always feels a sense of new beginning in these times. Maybe because she spent most of her life in a job that starts again every September. My September isn’t a fresh start how I’m used to, there are no more classes to go to. Sick. Haha. Still, the cold mud smell of autumn has coated Glasgow’s floor with a fresh autumn carpet. It’s quite nice, soft on the feet and sparking a desire for comfort in the evenings, nutty tasting things and bedside lamps switched on.

I love bedside lamps for their glow. I love how they instantly create a pocket of light you can dip in and out of.

The other thing I have on my mind is how I can make these letters to you feel less like they need to be perfect.

Sometimes perfect is absolutely perfect. Very necessary, even. Like, if you are sharing a recipe for a cake with a lot of people. These times ‘perfect’ is a measure of precision. Sometimes though, perfection is something you are seeking, and it’s less about accuracy. These times ‘perfect’ is a measure of satisfaction. Most often, this is a search for the most above average level of satisfaction I know to exist.

So one finger up to that kind of perfect, here’s a new kind of post. I made this cake once, from the memory of drinking cognac at night, in candle light, the rustic kind of bedside light, with a feeling of new beginnings and a sweet, nutty taste on my tongue.

Note on the Test Kitchen – I love this cake, it’s a cake that wants teeth to sink into it, but the recipe hasn’t been developed or tested multiple times. So do with the recipe what you want. You can follow it exactly, and you’ll get a delicious cake. Or you can play around with it, and make your own delicious cake.

My Notes – The pastry is the way I want it, maybe my new go to pastry, I wouldn’t change a thing. The fruit needs more cognac if this is to be called a cognac cake and the frangipane needs to be spread thinner – use a larger tin. This will likely reduce the baking time. This cake should be eaten at least once warmed up with cream and does not keep well longer than 3 days.

Ingredients

For the Pastry

  • 90g unsalted butter, cold and cubed
  • 175g plain flour
  • 30g caster sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 egg yolk
  • 1 tablespoon cold water

For the Cake Filling

  • 190g dried prunes and figs
  • 50g cognac
  • 150g butter, softened
  • 150g sugar
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla
  • salt and lemon zest to taste
  • 3 medium eggs
  • 165g ground almonds
  • 80g plain flour

Method

In a large bowl rub the butter through the flour sugar and salt until it resembles fine breadcrumbs. Add the egg yolk and cold water. Use a knife to begin clumping the mixture together, finishing off with your hands until you have a ball of pastry. Shape into a disk and put in the freezer for 15 mins.

Pre heat the oven to 180/160 fan. Grease an 8inch round cake tin, if you use a tart case make sure it is a deep one. Roll out the pastry to about the thickness of a pound coin. Use a dinner plate bigger than the tin to trace a circle out the pastry. Line this into the greased tin, the pastry will come up the sides of the tin a little.

Blind bake the pastry case for 15 minutes. To do this, cover the pastry with greaseproof paper, then pour baking beans, rice or lentils over the paper to weigh everything down. After 15 mins, remove the greaseproof paper and baking beans/rice or lentils and bake for another 5 mins. Remove from the oven but keep the oven on.

Roughly chop the dried fruit and put in a small saucepan with the cognac. Bring to a simmer then turn the heat off, cover, and allow to infuse while you make the frangipane. (Possibly the two most autumnal sentences I have ever written).

In a large bowl cream the butter, sugar, vanilla, salt and lemon zest until the mixture is light and fluffy. Add the eggs, ground almonds and flour in one and mix until just combined. Tip in the cognac and fruit and mix through the frangipane before scraping into the pastry lined tin. Bake for about 45 minutes, or until a knife inserted into the cake comes out with just a few moist crumbs.

Speak soon, Poe. Caitlin x

‘Old House’, Cranberry Orange and Almond Cake with Mascarpone Cream

Cakes

25/07/2022

Yo Joe

We were out to dinner, talking about these letters.

‘I love them’, you said. I felt a pin point pressure in my chest slightly up from my heart, to the top of my breastbone. It rounded out into a ball of fizzy yellowy warmth. The ball stayed there for a few minutes more, until the food arrived and my attention got taken by pasta sauce.

It was the quickest moment that fit into a conversation we had about writing, reading and the odd observation of how much bread we’d managed to eat since sitting down.

In that conversation you told me to read Orwell’s Roses by Rebecca Solnit, a collection of short essays that weave details of Solnit’s life into broader thoughts on the world. Since reading this book, it got me thinking about why I write to you about cake.

The opening essay is about trees. It talks about how they stand as symbols of continuity and how George Orwell believes in planting trees as an act of contribution to posterity. That planting a single plum tree might promise sustenance to future generations is a great thought to hold close to your heart.

There are trees that have lived for hundreds of years, they are part of a history that we weren’t even alive to see. And their roots, like you said, are connected underground across the world in a web that supports the soil we stand on. A hive of past wisdom that’s buried underground. There’s something grand, slow and peaceful about this, in the same way that a grandmother, or whale, or old house is.

Reading Solnits essay, it struck me that the reason I love cake, was because it stands as the exact opposite of the tree. The cake is not wise. And cake is also not peaceful. I’m not talking here about the act of making a cake, but of presenting and eating one. A beautiful, quick, excited example of an effort to make moments of joy. And the consumption, a brilliant and messy confirmation of the closure of celebration. Finishing the cake signals these moments will come again, like little erruptions of excitement in an individual’s lifespan. The cake isn’t wise like the tree because it’s eaten too quickly to gain any life expereince.

Solnit writes about her love of the steadfastness of trees, in the same manner of fondness I write about cake to you. She intersects her essay about trees with glimpses into her personal life. She seeks to find pockets of space where her own intimate experiences of daily life might fit into the wider world, the trees world. I find this to be infinitely comforting. Writing to you about the cake I bake skates close to Orwell’s idea in planting a tree as an act of contribution to future life. As I said, the cake has no wisdom itself, but the accumulation of the cakes I bake, the moments they signal in our life and the capturing of them in these letters I see as planting and tending to a tree that will grow on after us.

Soltin’s last line in the essay goes like this ‘…where (do) pleasure and beauty and hours with no quantifiable practical result fit into the life of someone, perhaps of anyone, who also cared about justice and truth and human rights and how to change the world.’

I write about beautiful cake to capture hours of pleasure passed. Keeping a record of them feels important. Like a way to change my small world, and maybe to add something to yours too, to give us some perspective, some past wisdom we can call on at a later date.

I’ve written this to you in a cafe in Naples where I’m waiting to get an overnight train to Zürich. I feel I should be more excited than I am, in reality I feel quite scared and like I want to jump back to London on the plane with you – I’m kicking myself for deciding to get this train. What I’m actually saying is, I’m kicking myself for a desicion that I have made – it could have been any decision. I would have doubted it and myself all the same. Writing this, I realise it is these moments where my writing offers real solice and perspective, like the steadfastness of a tree. Since I started writing this an hour and a half ago, I’ve felt refueled by cakes, trees and writing. Reasurance from letters of cakes past, each marking one moment of celebration or consolation, these letters very existance is evidence enough for me that more of these moments will come.

12/08/2022

I’ve since come back to Oxford from Zürich and a long trip around Italy. It was amazing. And the overnight train that kicked off this adventure, I would do again in a heartbeat. This cake is for Cokes, who I got the overnight train to Zürich to meet, and who is sitting on the sofa next to me in Oxford as I write this. It’s his spirit cake, both joyous and wise, where a play between the excitement of a celebration cake and a depth of flavour brings each slice alive. It’s a really brilliant cake, you should make it.

Note On Berries – I first made this cake in December, for Coco’s birthday, so fresh cranberries were easy to find. Sour cherries are a great alternative for this time of year, that’s the fruit I used for these picturse. You can also use any frozen berries of your choice, just make sure to reduce the oil to 5 ml.

Note On Tins – this is a forgiving cake that is difficult to overbake and works well in a slightly larger or smaller tin that I have written in the method, just be sure to adjust the baking time.

Ingredients

For The Cake

  • 45g plain natural yoghurt or plain Greek yoghurt
  • 1 ½ tablespoons lemon juice
  • 150g ground almonds
  • 75g plain flour
  • 135g unsalted butter, softened
  • 150g caster sugar
  • Zest of one lemon
  • Zest of one orange
  • ½ teaspoon vanilla extract
  • ½ teaspoon salt
  • 2 large eggs
  • 1 ½ teaspoons / 6g baking powder
  • 10ml / 2 teaspoons vegetable or sunflower oil
  • 120g fresh cranberries or sour cherries

For the Topping

  • 40g unsalted butter, very soft
  • 50g caster sugar
  • A small handful of flaked almonds (optional)

For The Vanilla Mascarpone Cream – you may have extra

  • 90g mascarpone, room temperature
  • 60g cream cheese, room temperature
  • 70g double cream
  • 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 30g icing sugar

Method

Preheat oven to 180 / 160 fan oven. Grease and line 2 7inch / 18cm round cake tins.

In a small bowl, mix all the ingredients for the topping to form a paste. Set aside.

Combine the yoghurt and lemon juice in a small bowl. Set aside. Combine the ground almonds and plain flour in a small bowl. Set aside.

In a large bowl, cream together the butter, sugar, lemon and orange zest, vanilla and salt until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one after another adding a heaped tablespoon of the flour and almonds mixture with each egg addition – this will stop the mixture from curdling too much. Add in the oil and beat to combine. Now add the rest of the flour and almonds, baking powder and yoghurt mixture in one go, mix until just combined. Fold the cranberries or other berries through the batter.

Divide the batter evenly between each cake tin. Top one tin with small lumps of the topping paste, making sure it is evenly distributed.

Bake for 35 – 40 mins or until golden brown and a knife inserted into the cake comes out with only a few moist crumbs. Allow to cool.

Whist together all the ingredients for the vanilla mascarpone cream until it reaches soft peaks. When the cake is cooled, sandwich the two halves with the mascarpone cream.

Once filled, the cake will keep for 3 days in an airtight container. Past one day, keep the cake in the fridge, this is due to the cream filling.

To cakes, trees and writing. Caitlin x

Dark Chocolate Cake

Cakes

Dear Joe

It’s 21.43pm on the 9th of July as I write this. Our flight to Italy leaves in 8 hours but I’m sat in our garden writing this, becuase it’s a cake that needs writing about. My plan is that you will read this in about a week’s time when I’m with Coco in Zurich (Coco has kindly changed his name from ‘Constantin’ to ‘Coco’ to fit thematically with this post).

I’m looking at the sage bush and the roses. The evening has washed everything with watercolour grey. It’s beautiful. Don’t really have time to write poetic prose for this one, as I said, we have a flight in 8 hours and I do need sleep. Instead, I’ll let the poem you have tattoed on your chest do the talking.

It says – you become strong doing the things you need to be strong for – Audrey Lorde

I read this on you 20 mins ago when you were lying on the floor because Matt made you do too many dead lifts at the gym hahaha. The words resonated with me.

I’m becoming strong in our garden at – now – 21.52pm, because I really need to write down this chocolate cake recipe for you.

So, I’ve got the golden ticket – I’ve found my go-to chocolate cake. It’s dark, damp and bitter, with the kind of sweetness that only a rich chocolate cake can bring. It’s rich and dense enough to eat with a spoon, but delecate in a way too, it collapses on itself, melting on your touge. It happens to be dairy free too, and can eaisly be made gluten free by replacing the plain flour with ground almonds or gluten free flour.

Cake Note – this is a versatile cake. Bake it in a 23cm square tin for 35mins and slice in squares dusted with cocoa powder. Slice the cake horizontally in half, and stack thin layers of the cake between chocolate cream. Or bake it in a round 9inch tin for 35 mins for a thinner, quicker cake. Or, bake as I have written here and get a picture-perfect, single layer chocolate cake with a thick melting ganache.

Ingredients

For the Cake

  • 100g finly chopped dark chocolate
  • 50g cocao powder
  • 100g boiling water
  • 2 eggs
  • 150g olive oil
  • 200g sugar
  • 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 75g ground almons
  • 75g plain flour
  • 1/2 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
  • 100g plain yoghurt

For the Ganache – Optional

  • 100g finely chopped dark chocolate
  • 120g double cream
  • 15g golden syrup

Method

Pre heat the oven to 170/150 fan. Grease and line with baking parchment an 8 inch round cake tin.

Put the chocolate and cocao powder in a bowl. Pour over the boiling water and immediately cover the bowl with a plate. Set aside.

Beat the eggs, oil, sugar, vanilla and salt until lighter in colour and frothy – about 3 minutes with an electric whisk. Mix the chocolate boiling water mixture into a thick paste with a spatula. Scoop the lot, in one go, into the whisked egg mixture and beat to combine.

Add the ground almonds, flour, bicarb and yoghurt. Beat until just incorporated. Pour the batter into the tin and bake for about 40 – 45 mins, or until a knife inserted into the cake comes out with a few moist crumbs. Allow the cake to cool completley.

For the ganache, put the chocolate in a large bowl. Heat the cream and golden syrup until it is just about to boil. Pour the cream over the chocolate and let it sit for a min or 2. Stir it all together until smooth, glossy and beautiful. Spread over the cake straight away. Eat.

Caitlin x

Sugared Green Apple Thyme Cake

Cakes

Yo Joe

I’ve been thinking of this scene from the Matrix for the last two weeks. I’ve dreamt about it, thought about it in the shower, eating dinner, running. Had a lot of conversations about it too. With Emma having a coffee, Coco in a sauna and Máté on a park bench. The scene is lodged in my head.

Imagine it for a second. No longer than a second though, mum told me this was the film that gave you 5 years of nightmares when we were kids. So, for a second only, think of the bit where the main man with the sunglasses is on a roof, dodging bullets. Who, or what, is firing the bullets – your guess is as good as any, but they’re coming from every angle. Main Matrix man’s reflexes, and the bullets, are moving at lightning speed, in deep, breathy slow motion.

Someone ran out of bullets. Only one thing for it… to lob their afternoon snack at main Matrix man. The crunchiest, juiciest, just-plucked-from-the-tree, green apple. Cutting through the air, the green globe is spinning slowly on its axis headed to hit our main man dead centre in the forehead. He knows it. I know it. You know it. The apple, poor sod, doesn’t know it. The apple is just catapulting through the air, fast in a direction that it’s unsure of only so far as it hasn’t chosen it. But holy moly, this tasty morsel is moving with impressive conviction.

Time is slowed to an 8th of its normal pace; a thicker wave of bullets now, like a fleet of mini submarines (llolll what an effective use of a simile). But Matrix man is fixated on the green apple globe about to bonk him. A bullet impact would be far more painful, but nothing comes close to the fixation, fear and… bewilderment at something as out of place as a green apple flying through a battle field. With a sharp backwards back bend and a chin tuck, Matrix man dodges, only just clearing a path for the apple to drive through.

That’s where it ends, the scene that’s been playing in my head. I never see what happens to the apple. I only see its impressive globe greenness, and its shininess, and the sheer speed of it hurtling through the air in slow motion. The apple might be a bit baffled by the speed of the situation, only, its rapid movement forward doesn’t allow for it. The only way I can comprehend the apple’s feeling is the way the scene is distilled, neatly, but disorientingly, in mega pixel slow motion (lol what’s that?).

I have to confess, I’ve never watched the Matrix. And I’ve come to find, that scene doesn’t exist. I realise it would’ve been impressive to have a memory of a scene in mind from a film I’d never watched, but I was pretty convinced. Ever since I handed in my dissertation and finished my degree, there popped up that green apple Matrix scene. I’ve been describing it to everyone. Emma told me it made her think of Magritte’s The Son Of Man and it got me and Máté googling ‘what does you are the apple of my eye mean?’

When I realise half way through narrating this scene that the listener has watched the Matrix, I cut to the chase, tell them that I feel like that green apple. A bit lost in air and space, no ground at my feet, moving slow, a bit adrift, but hurtling so surly in a direction that I can’t comprehend, through a world that’s too quick for its own good.

Thyme gives this cake a lemony savoriness that’s initially surprising, and then addictive. It creeps up on you, and then demands to be craved. Cream cheese gives a crumb that’s soft and buttery, that holds integrity. Sugared chunks of green apple add layers of sweet and sour in equal measure that sing a lil bit when hit against the thymey cakey base(y – haha). Like I said, arresting, and then, it melts together in comforting, thrilling ways.

A Note On Thyme. You need fresh thyme leaves for this cake, so you’ll need to hand pluck them from the stalks. Yup, it takes time, but it makes a good thing in the end. I’m heavy handed with my spices and herbs, I’m not one for their subtle use. If you prefer a less punchy herb or spice experience, go for 1 and a half teaspoons.    

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 – 2 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves, amount to taste
  • 160g green apple, aprox. 2 small apples peeled cored and cubed
  • 120g unsalted butter, softened
  • 170g caster sugar, plus a tablespoon extra to finish the cake before the oven
  • Zest of an orange
  • 2 large eggs
  • 100g cream cheese
  • 130g plain flour
  • 40g ground almonds
  • 1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder

Method

Pre heat the oven to 180 / 160 fan oven. Grease and line a 22cm / 8inch round cake tin.

Peel, core and cube the apples. Don’t worry too much about getting exactly 160g. Just keep in mind, if you go a lot over that weight, the cake will take longer to bake, resulting in a tough cake texture. Strip the thyme leaves off the stalks and give the leaves a rough chop. Set both aside while you make the cake batter.

In a large bowl, cream together the butter, sugar and orange zest until fluffed up, about 1 min. Add the eggs one at a time, beating until fully incorporated between each addition.

To the bowl, add the thyme leaves, cream cheese, flour, ground almonds and baking powder. Give everything a gentle mix until just incorporated, being careful not to overmix the batter. You should end up with a soft but thick-ish batter. Smooth it out into the cake tin, scatter over the cubed apple and the tablespoon of sugar.

Bake for 50-55 mins, until golden brown and a skewer inserted into the cake comes out clean but with a few moist crumbs still attached. The cake will keep covered for 4 days, but this one is best eaten on the day or the day after.

Till next thyme, Caitlin x

Blueberry Shortbread Crumble Muffins

Buns and Breads, Cakes

Joe,

Long-time, no cake. Writing to you about cake, that is. Not saying anything about my consumption of cake. I eat a lot of the stuff.

I’ve been feeling a bit overwhelmed by life of late. Lol, what a start.

There’s something about the beginnings of spring that has this effect I’ve noticed. The moment that cold sun comes out to play and everyone suddenly carries tote bags instead of rucksacks. Makes people feel carefree I think – Just gives me a sore shoulder.

My kitchen window looks over the carpark of a big car sales warehouse. It’s where the people that work at the warehouse like to go, to feel like they aren’t at work. A couple weeks back, when it was cold and snowing, I saw a man, I’d say late 40’s, in his car sales uniform, stretch out his arms and run in figures of 8 around the carpark, pretending to be an aeroplane. That same week, I saw two guys, younger this time, in their uniforms, play a game of one a side football – haha not a thing – with a snowball for a football. It was brilliant.

It was brilliant because they were playing, despite the snow, the cold and the dark. In sun, everyone is out, everyone plays all the time. In sun, the world is oversaturated with moments like the man pretending to be an aeroplane. I find it sets me a bit adrift. It’s like there are too many special moments for me to catch. Like I can’t keep up.  

Maybe this makes me sound bloody miserable. I hope not. As it goes, I don’t think I have a lot of misery in me. I really love life, I find a lot of joy in it. But when big change is happening, at first, I feel a bit disconnected from the world. A bit overwhelmed by it. Honestly, a bit frightened of it. Frightened of its oversaturated new-ness. I think maybe you feel this sometimes too?

When this happens, I turn to what I know I can make good – butter, flour, sugar and eggs. I start with a thing I want to make. Next, I decide on the texture I want the thing to have. Then I look at every book I can get my hands on with a recipe for the thing. I compare the recipes, work out what each ingredient does. After that, I bake. And bake again, and then again. Until I have what I’m after. Some people would call this an obsession. Lol that’s exactly what it is, but when I’ve cracked it, when I’ve worked it out, it’s a feeling like none other. I don’t feel quite so overwhelmed by life, because I’ve cracked my perfect muffin and I can give it to people I love.

I believe, Joe, that you’d call this process a version of ‘retaining my soul’. That’s exactly what it is.

I wanted a not too sweet, buttery muffin with a structural integrity that borders on denseness but doesn’t feel like you’re eating a brick. Back up with them dry, dense muffins that would struggle to bounce if you dropped it on a trampoline. Haha. There’s a large quantity of blueberries too, and for a bit of sweet somethin, a thick and crumbly shortbread topping.

Bake these muffins and retain your soul, Joe. You have my fave soul, a soul in a millimuffin. 

This will either make 8 large muffins or 14 regular sized muffins. If you only have one 6 or 12-hole muffin tray, like me, you can reserve the leftover batter in the fridge and bake them once your first batch is out.

Ingredients

For the Shortbread Crumble Topping

  • 25g sugar
  • 40g butter – cubed and a little cold
  • 60g plain flour
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt

For the Muffin Batter

  • 120g butter
  • 250g blueberries
  • 340g plain flour
  • 2 teaspoons baking powder
  • 130g caster sugar
  • 2 medium eggs – 100g, if you want to weigh it
  • 250g sour cream
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 2 scant tablespoons milk

Method

Pre-heat the oven to 180 / 160 fan. Line a 12-hole muffin tin with paper cases, or with butter and strips of greaseproof paper.

Make the shortbread topping by rubbing all the ingredients together between your fingertips. The mixture will come together in clumps. Once done put in the fridge or freezer while you make the muffin batter.

Melt the butter in the microwave and set aside to cool.

Squash about a third of the blueberries with the back of a folk, you don’t want to turn them into a pulp, just burst them a bit. Set aside.

In a large bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, and sugar.

In another bowl, combine the eggs, sour cream, vanilla extract, milk and melted butter.

Add the wet mix to the dry, followed the by the squashed and not squashed blueberries. Fold to combine, careful not to overmix – about 15 folds of a spatula will do it. There might be a few small dry patches of flour, that’s ok! Better that than an overworked batter.  

Distribute the batter between the muffin tins and top each with shortbread crumble until all used up. Bake for 24 mins (or 29 mins if making 8 large muffins), or until very lightly golden and a knife inserted into the centre of a muffin comes out with a few moist crumbs.

Banana Brandy Mince Pies

Cakes

Joe

I’m on the train home from Glasgow listening to Shakira singing about her hips that don’t lie and trying to remember if I put the socks I got you for Christmas in my suitcase or my rucksack…or if I left them in my flat. (Hmm, I left them in my flat).

Imagine for a second that the phrases ‘I like you’, ‘I really like you’ and ‘I love you’ didn’t exist in the human language. Instead, you’d give a person a pair of your favourite socks. A pair that would look great on the person – fit them somehow.

Valentine’s Day would be a pure sock fest. Haha.

I got to dinner at a friend’s flat the other night cold and wet. Anna gave me a pair of socks and Rebeka handed me her hair dryer.

It’s late and I’m putting on my shoes. I return the socks to Anna, fish my gloves out the pocket, put one on and Anna stops me. She inhales sharp and excited like she’s just seen a magic trick – goes – ‘Your gloves! They match the socks’. She reaches for the socks I folded by the radiator, inspects how similar they are to my gloves. Rebeka comes, nodding, smiling, telling me the gloves and the socks are matching – same pink, same yellow stripe.

I got home that night with a new pair of socks for Christmas, feeling like two people I haven’t known for very long had been kind to me, had just said a kind of ‘I really like you’ in the biggest smallest way possible. These mince pies are my way of saying a big ‘I really like you’ in a small way (lol great transition).

A Christmas pudding, a bakewell tart, and a mince, pie walk into a bar. They get drunk and fall over each other in a big heap – these little tarts are a neat version of that drunk mess. A crispy, buttery, fruity, rich, not-too-sweet really, good drunk mess.

Assembly – this recipie is a coming together and the fridge is your friend. The fruit needs at least 2 hours to soak in the brandy and orange juice, but it’s best if you can leave it to soak overnight. The pastry and frangipane can also be made a day in advance and kept in the fridge until you’re ready to bake.

Shape – I don’t like pancake flat mince pies. So, these are deep. You want a large cupcake tray or a muffin tray for this recipe.

Ingredients

For the Fruit

  • 350g dried fruit – I use a mix of dried figs, cranberries and raisins
  • 80ml brandy
  • Zest 1 large orange + 100ml of the juice
  • 1 large banana – I promise it works

For the Pastry

  • 175g plain flour
  • 30g sugar
  • 100g butter – cold and cubed
  • 1 tablespoon + 2 teaspoons cold water

For the Frangipane

  • 50g butter – softened
  • 50g sugar
  • 1 egg
  • 40g ground almonds
  • 25g plain flour
  • pinch of salt
  • a drop of vanilla extract

Method

Mix the dried fruit, brandy, orange juice and zest in a bowl. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours but preferably overnight.

For the pastry, combine the flour and sugar in a large bowl. Add the cubed cold butter. Using your fingertips, rub the butter into the dry mix until it looks like fine breadcrumbs. Add the tablespoon and one of the teaspoons of cold water, then, using a knife cut through the mixture until it starts to clump together. Get your hands in and bring the dough together to form a smooth ball. You want a ball of pastry that cleans the side of the bowl with no dry flour visable. If it looks too dry, add in the second teaspoon of water. Wrap the pastry in cling film and refridgerate for at least 30 mins. You can leave it overnight if making ahead of baking time.

Make the frangipane. Cream the butter and sugar until fluffed up around the sides of the bowl. Add the egg and beat again until combined. Next, add the ground almonds, flour, salt and vanilla extract. Mix to combine. Then cover and stick it in the fridge until you’re ready to assemble the pies.

When you’re ready to bake, pre heat the oven to 190 / 170 fan. Grease a deep cupcake tray and line each indent with a strip of greaseproof paper. Set aside.

Strain the soaked fruit, keeping the liquid aside. Mash up the banana and mix into the drained soaked fruit. Set aside.

Roll out the pastry to about a 1/4 cm thick. Using a round cutter (about 10cm) cut out 12 disks of pastry, placing them in the cupcake tray as you go. Distribute the fruit filling between the mince pies (about 2 teaspoons in each). Now add a teaspoon of the reserved liquid into each pie.

Top each mince pie with the frangipane (you should get about a teaspoon on top of each), leaving a bit of the fruit visable round the edges. Scatter the tops with flaked almonds. Ideally, you want to put these in the oven a little cold, this’ll stop the pastry shrinking. If you have time/can wait, stick the assembled pies in the fridge for about 20 mins before baking.

Bake for 18 – 20 mins or until golden brown.

Allow the tarts to cool before lifting them out the tin and EATING with lots of cream. Mmmm cream.

ohhh look it’s a stary pork pie

Happy Christmas Joe. love Caitlin x

Lemon Almond Syrup Cake

Cakes

Yo Joe

This cake is an upgraded lemon drizzle. Soft on the inside with a crackly sugar and almond crust, soaked in a tart lemon syrup fresh out the oven.

I first made a version of it in May when me, Tiger, Jess and Sue were moving out our flat. Amongst the tins of chopped tomatoes and packets of rice left in our cupboards we had lemons, walnuts, ground almonds and some yoghurt in the fridge. I made a cake out of them. And it was PENG. So, I wrote the recipe on the back of a Sainsbury’s receipt and have fiddled about with it all summer. I’m still working off that receipt now, with all the changes to the recipe scribbled on top of each other.

The original cake – the May one – sunk slightly in the middle. I altered the recipe, so it rises…how you would expect a cake to rise, but I think the original sunken state is important to remember. This cake has a heavy heart.

It feels right that I’m only writing up this recipe now. It’s a cake that marks change, I think. Fitting – we’re now juuuuust about to fall into autumn and in about a week, I’ll be moving back to Glasgow, into a new flat, this time, just for me and Tiger.

Gluten and Dairy Free Notes – This cake does well being made Dairy Free by replacing the butter and yoghurt with DF spread and a DF yoghurt. I’ve also made this cake Gluten Free by replacing the flour with a gluten free plain flour. In both cases, you couldn’t tell the difference.

Ingredients

For the Cake

  • 2 large lemons – zest of both and 2 tbs juice
  • 60g greek yoghurt – any plain, thick yoghurt will do
  • 180g butter – softened
  • 200g caster sugar
  • 1 tsp vanilla extract
  • 1/4 tsp salt
  • 3 medium eggs – or 2 large eggs
  • 200g ground almonds
  • 100g plain flour
  • 2 tsp baking powder
  • 1 tbs vegetable oil – 15 ml

For the Almond Topping

  • 30g flaked almonds
  • 30g caster sugar

For the Syrup

  • 3 tbs lemon juice
  • 1 tbs water
  • 50g caster sugar

Method

Pre heat the oven to 180 or 160 fan. Grease and line a 20cm/8inch round cake tin.

Zest and juice the lemons and set aside. The zest and some of the juice will be added to the batter. There will be enough lemon juice for the syrup you will make later, so don’t get rid of any at this stage.

In a small bowl or jug mix the yoghurt and lemon juice (2 tbs), set aside while you make the rest of the batter.

Beat the lemon zest, butter, sugar, vanilla and salt until just fluffed up around the sides of the bowl. I use an electric whisk for this. Next, add in one egg at a time, beating thoroughly between each addition.

To the butter mix, add all the other ingredients – ground almonds, flour, baking powder, yoghurt and lemon juice mixture and vegetable oil. Beat together just until a homogenous batter forms.

Pour the batter into the cake tin and top with the caster sugar and flaked almonds (30g of each). Bake for about 45-50 minutes, until a knife inserted into the cake comes out with a few moist crumbs. Check a little earlier if your oven runs hot.

While the cake is in the oven, make the syrup. In a small heavy bottom saucepan, mix the lemon juice (3 tbs), water and sugar. Heat on a medium/high heat, stirring occasionally until the sugar is dissolved. Bring the syrup to the boil and allow it to bubble for one minute. Set aside to cool slightly.

When the cake comes out the oven, pour over the syrup slowly, allowing it to soak in. Leave the cake to cool in the tin for 15/20 minutes before turning it out.

Caitlin x

Summer Berry Crème Fraîche Cake

Cakes

Yo Joe

Mmmmm some peng cake. So soft, so sweet, so buttery, studded with strawberries and blackberries, covered in lime and raspberry jam icing.

I recently started my first job as a baker at an independent cafe in Glasgow called Kelvin Pocket. Lol I’m pretty proud of this fact, brings me a lot of joy. A guy called Paul owns and runs it. I really don’t know how he does it, he’s there 6 days a week and you rarely find him without a smile on his face. He also trusts me to bake things in his kitchen, for his business, which I think is a big deal. Maybe he doesn’t think too much about letting me bake for his customers in his kitchen, but I do.

The idea for this loaf came from a cake we make at the cafe. This cake, is really David’s cake. David works in the kitchen, who, along with Caroline, make producing well over 60 different baked goods a day look like something they could do in their sleep. Icing a cake takes them under 2 mins and putting together sweet bun dough can be done in about 7…. magic. I hope David doesn’t mind me pretty much copping his idea, I hope he finds it flattering instead.

I was a lil bit blown away when I watched Caroline and David put jam in the water icing for this cake in the cafe (hahaha I really am that easily entertained). I bought some back for the girls in the flat. It got squashed in my bag but they all went mad for it – telling, I think. This isn’t some fancy multi layered, french patisserie thing, it’s just really, really good cake.

I messed about with the ratios a lil bit, using David’s recipe as my blueprint, to produce his cake reincarnated cakeonmyface style. ah, the circle of cake life. While I was taking pics of this reincarnated cake I thought it looked like some kind of abstract painting, it was quite beautiful actually (lol, here we bloody go). I wasn’t the only one that thought this. I went past Katie’s flat and threw a bit of this cake at her to try while I was running to work. She sent me a message later saying ‘Emma says it is like gallery cake’. Emma is Katie’s sister, I’ve met her twice, about 2 years ago, but sounds like we see cake the same way.

Ingredients

For The Cake

  • 125g unsalted butter, softened
  • 225g caster sugar
  • Zest of 1 lemon
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 2 large eggs
  • 140g crème fraîche
  • 160g self raising flour
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
  • 160g berries of choice, I use strawberries and blackberries

For The Icing

  • 210g icing sugar, no need to sift it
  • 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • pinch of salt
  • 3 tablespoons lime juice, or lemon juice
  • 2 tablespoons raspberry jam, or any other jam of your choice
  • water to reach the right consistency.

Method

Pre heat the oven to 190 / 170 fan oven. Grease and line a 2lb/900g loaf tin with greaseproof paper, letting a bit of paper hang over the sides of the tin so you can lift the cake out later.

Wash and cut the berries into chunks. Halves and quarters is perfect, if you chop them too small the berries will turn to mush and vanish into the cake batter. Set the berries aside.

Using electric beaters, mix the butter, sugar, lemon zest, salt and vanilla extract until it fluffs up and starts to clump at the side of the bowl, about 1 min. Do yourself a solid and don’t tire your arm beating this for ages, you’ll get the exact same fluffy cake with no more than 1 min of mixing.

Beat in one egg at a time, making sure the first is fully incorporated before you add the second.

Tip the crème fraîche, flour and baking powder into the butter mix, beat together for a few seconds just until everything is combined.

Gently fold in the berries and pour the batter into the prepared tin. Bake for about 55mins or until the surface of the cake feels bouncy when pressed gently with your finger tips and a couple of moist crumbs cling to a knife inserted into the cake.

Allow the cake to cool for 15 mins in the tin before lifting it out to cool completely.

When the cake is completely cool, put all the icing ingredients, exept the water in a bowl and mix with a whisk or fork. Add a little (very little) drop of water at a time, mixing between each addition, until you have a thick icing that can be poured over the cake.

Allow the icing to set a little before cutting into the cake (or just, cut into it now.)

Hahahah I had to copy and paste ‘crème fraîche’ from wiki every time it appears in this recipe because I don’t know how to get the accents on my keyboard. I wanted you to have the authentic experience of reading ‘crème fraîche’, Joe, like in a real recepie book. Caitlin x

Chocolate Orange Cake with Chocolate Fudge Buttercrem. They Will Never Know It’s Dairy Free.

Cakes

Hi Joe

This cake is peng and also dairy free. This is the best chocolate cake you will ever eat and the only chocolate cake I will ever make. Mmm bold. A dark, moist chocolate cake flecked with orange zest, sandwiched together with an orange cream cheese buttercream and slathered in a chocolate mousse like fudge icing. You can’t always have your cake and eat it. But sometimes you can haha. So when the opportunity comes along you have to jump on it.

you can get one of these aprons fron my giftshop located in the bread aisle of your local Sainsbury’s

I’ve actually been drafting this post for about 6 weeks, I’ve gone through 29 different versions of this intro. Not because the cake is hard to write about (it’s actually very easy to write about how good this cake is) but because of the reason that I made the cake. That was harder to write about. I’ve realised there are some things that I don’t want to write about on here, and that day is one of them. Joe, you know why, and that’s good enough for me. So… cake.

Me and Sue spent a day making this. It deffo didn’t have to take that long but we really drew out the process. We adapted the cake from thetasteofkosher.com and the fudge frosting from loveandoliveoil.com. The actual cake part of this is honestly the best chocolate cake in the world, so moist and dark and deep, lots of layers to the flavour. You could eat the chocolate fudge buttercream straight out of the bowl with a large spoon, the trick is cream cheese. It does great things.

This is turning into a bit of a confessional post. The white buttercream in the centre is a tub of Betty Crocker’s ‘Cream Cheese Style Icing’, mixed with some orange zest and salt. We needed it to be dairy free and we didn’t want to make a liquid, yellowy icing that you get when you use df butter and cream cheese. Cheers Betty, you’re a legend.

Note on Cake Tins. This recipe will give you a 3-layer chocolate cake, using 3 7inch round cake tins. You can also bake this in 2 9inch round tins, just increase the baking time by about 10 mins. If you only have one tin, like we did, you can bake the cake in batches. As one cake comes out, remove from the tin straight away, wipe the tin, grease it again and pour the next round of batter in. Honestly, with this batter there is no difference at all in the finished cakes if it has waited out for a bit before being baked.

Ingredients

For the Chocolate Cake

  • 255g / 2 cups plain flour
  • 395g / 2 cups caster sugar
  • 75g / 3/4 cup cocoa powder
  • 2 tsp cornflour
  • 2 tsp baking powder
  • 1 1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 470ml / 2 cups hot black coffee – just use cheap instant coffee here
  • 120ml / 1/2 cup vegetable or sunflower oil
  • 2 large eggs
  • 2 tsp vanilla extract
  • Zest of 2 oranges

For the Orange Cream Cheese Buttercream

  • 400g/1 tub Betty Crocker Cream Cheese Style Icing – achieved by walking to your local supermarket
  • Zest of 1 orange
  • 1/2 tsp salt

For the Chocolate Fudge Buttercream. This icing sets in about 20 mins so you can’t make it in advance. Only start this once you have sandwiched the cake layers together.

  • 450g / 2 cups dairy free butter, softened – or regular butter
  • 300g / 2 cups + 1 tbsp icing sugar
  • 150g / 1 1/4 cups + 2 tbsp cocoa powder
  • 100g / 1/4 cup + 3 tbsp dairy free cream cheese – or regular cream cheese
  • 100g / 1/4 cup + 3 tbsp hot water
  • 2 tsp vanilla extract
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 285g dark chocolate

Method

Pre heat the oven to 180 / 160 fan oven. Grease cake tins and sprinkle lightly with flour, banging the sides of the tin to remove any excess.

In a large bowl, mix all dry ingredients; flour, sugar, cocoa powder, cornflour, baking powder, bicarbonate of soda and salt. Set this aside.

Make the coffee. To 470mls water you want about 3 teaspoons instant coffee.

Make a well in the centre of the dry ingredients and add in all the wet ingredients; coffee, oil, eggs, vanilla extract and orange zest.

Pour the batter into the prepared tins and bake for 25 mins or until a skewer inserted into the cake comes out clean. If you want even layers, weigh out the cake batter, you want roughly 450g in each tin. Once out of the oven allow cakes to cool completely before icing.

Prepared the orange cream cheese buttercream by mixing all ingredients in a bowl.

Place the first cake layer on the place/board/cake stand you want to serve the final cake on. Spread an even layer of the orange buttercream over the top of the cake making sure it reaches the edges of the cake. Place the next cake layer on top and repeat. If you want to, fill in any holes and smooth out any bumps in the sides of the cake with any extra buttercream. Place the cake in the fridge to firm up while you make the fudge buttercream.

For the chocolate fudge buttercream, use an electric whisk to cream the butter for 4 mins. You want a really fluffy consistency, I promise the time is worth it. If you don’t have an electric whisk, go at it with a wooden spoon.

Sift in the icing sugar and coco powder. Add in the cream cheese, hot water, vanilla extract and salt. Mix everything to combine.

Chop up the chocolate and melt it. I give the chocolate 15 second bursts in the microwave, stirring in between so it doesn’t burn. When this happens, the chocolate goes lumpy 😦 .

Pour the melted chocolate into the butter cream and beat everything together for another 2/3 mins. This whips air into the buttercream, giving it the chocolate mousse like melt in the mouth ting.

Remove the cake from the fridge and cover the whole thing in buttercream.

Now, eat the cake.

Caitlin xxx

Apricot Streuselkuchen

Cakes

Hi Joe

This is for our Grandparents, the most generous people I know.

I keep a lot of the letters Oma and Grandad write me. Some of these letters make me cry, it’s actually happened quite a few times now. Haha it’s becoming a trend. They don’t make me cry in a bad way. I’m not sure why this happens, I think it’s what happens when you feel a particular kind of love in your heart. I have a couple different stacks of the letters, in different draws and different rooms spread between Oxford and Glasgow. Do you keep the letters they send you?

I asked Oma to send me her recipe for Streuslekuchen, the stuff she always had about 3 boxes of stashed in the freezer just in case there was ever a…Streuslekuch shortage…? Haha can you image! What would become of the world. I got a letter a few days later of the recipe handwritten, in true Oma style.

If your name isn’t Joe and you don’t know what Streuselkuchen is – it’s a German vanilla sponge cake topped with a cinnamon sugar crumble. Cake-like but falls somewhere in-between the biscuit and cake category. It’s not the most jazzy thing in the world but you’re world will be brighter with it. You’ll eat one slice and then eat lots more in quick succession. My lil addition of apricot jam, was because we had apricot jam in the fridge. Feel free to leave it out.

Ingredients

For the Streusel – Depending on the size of your tin, you may end up with extra. Stick it in the freezer to use another day. Or um eat it?

  • 200g flour – I’ve made it with plain and self raising, there isn’t too much difference here
  • 125g sugar
  • 1/2 tsp cinnamon
  • 125g butter – fridge cold and cubed

For the Kuchen.

  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 500g self raising flour
  • 200g butter – softened
  • 200g sugar
  • 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
  • 2 eggs
  • 250ml milk
  • Apricot jam – a couple of tablespoons if you want to use
  • Icing sugar to serve – 2 ish tablespoons. This bit is v important. Oma never made Streuselkuchen without a thick powdering of icing sugar, it doesn’t taste the same without

Method

Pre heat the oven to 190 / 170 fan. Grease and line a shallow 20 x 25 cm tin. A 20cm square tin will work just as well. This is a forgiving cake, so work with what you have.

Make the streusel. Put the flour, sugar, cinnamon and cubed (cold) butter in a bowl. Using your finger tips rub the butter into the flour mixture. You are looking for a rough texture, with smaller and lager bits of crumble. Put the bowl in the freezer or the fridge while you make the cake.

For the cake, measure out the flour, add the salt and set aside.

In a large bowl, cream together the butter, sugar and vanilla until lighter in colour and fluffed up around the sides of the bowl. I use electric beaters but a wooden spoon will do it.

Add one egg and beat until fully incorporated, then the second egg and a table spoon of the flour. Beat again until the mixture has fluffed up.

Tip half of the flour and salt into the butter and egg mixture. Beat to combine. Now pour in the milk and add the rest of the flour. Mix until there is no more dry flour.

Pour the batter into the cake tin and smooth out. Spread the apricot jam over the batter layer if you are using. Follow with a generous covering of the streusel, you shouldn’t see any cake beneath.

Bake for 30 – 35 mins, until a knife inserted into the cake comes out with no wet batter.

Once cooled, remove from the tin, cover with sifted icing sugar and cut into big chunks.

Joe, I reckon you’ll say somethin like ‘mmm cake. Can we put some chocolate ganache maybe in place of the apricot jam?’ Love Caitlin X