dancing with cake

A few weeks ago I put on a leotard, tights and shoes and fronted up to the first ballet class I've been to since I was a teenager. I was nervous as hell but to my surprise and delight I actually enjoyed myself. I was not the most uncoordinated person there nor the tallest, oldest or curviest (all worries I had entertained beforehand) and I was surprised to find that I still remembered some of the moves and dance step names, including the tasty sounding fondu which, rather aptly, describes a lowering of the body by bending the knee of the supporting leg and sliding the other leg along the floor.

There is something to be said for seeing your body in figure hugging gear in a massive mirror a few times a week and I have been a bit more conscious of eating my greens and standing up straight since starting the classes... but I have to admit that I crumbled last week and ate a rather large amount of carrot cake. Lydia, my whippet thin ballet teacher, would not be thrilled.

I haven't eaten or made carrot cake in a really long time, not as long as I haven't done ballet, but still quite a while. Carrot cake seems like one of those overlooked classic cakes, not as popular as chocolate, not as straightforward as lemon or banana, and much like with ballet I can't remember why I personally left it so long in between takes.

So last Saturday afternoon, tired after doing hilariously bad pirouettes all morning and feeling like baking something, I realised I had a few carrots in the fridge and the idea was born. The marvellous thing was that I even had a good reason to bake as we were having Kristian's sister, brother-in-law and niece over for lunch the following day.

Unlike say a plié or a rond de jambe, you can bend the rules a bit when it comes to making carrot cake - there is no right way to do it. By which I mean that if you want to add sultanas or walnuts or leave nuts out entirely go right on ahead. It's your cake after all. I went with the sultanas no nuts option for mine to make it niece friendly.

Carrot Cake
Adapted from Women's Weekly Classic Cakes

For the cake
olive oil, to grease
3 medium carrots, grated
1/2 cup sultanas
1 cup wholemeal self-raising flour
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup vegetable or safflower oil
1/2 cup golden syrup
3 eggs
1 tsp vanilla essence

For the icing
175g cream cheese, softened
100g butter, softened
2 teaspoons lemon juice
1 cup icing sugar, sifted

Preheat the oven to 170°C and grease well a 20cm round cake.
Peel and grate the carrots and set aside.

In a large bowl sift the flour, bicarbonate of soda and cinnamon. In a separate bowl combine the brown sugar, oil, golden syrup, eggs and vanilla in a medium bowl and whisk until combined.

Pour the wet mixture into the dry ingredients and stir with a wooden spoon until just combined. Stir through the grated carrot and sultanas.

Pour the mixture into your pan and bake for 1 hour. It should be looking nice and brown on top and a skewer should come out relatively clean. Set aside for 5 minutes, before turning out onto a wire rack to cool completely.

To make the icing, place the softened cream cheese, butter, icing sugar and lemon juice in a bowl. Use a wooden spoon to mix until well combined. Spread the icing over the cool cake. Cut into generous wedges and serve to your guests with a hearty cup of tea.

Kristian's little niece burnt off her cake running up and down our stairs all afternoon having a wonderful time. As for me, I think I'll be doing some more penance at the barre.

...

potatoes, pies and pink

Our weekend was all about a very excited little girl (Kristian's niece) turning three and some equally excited adults getting to play with Mr and Mrs Potato Head and eat party pies and toothache-inducing amounts of cake and pink icing.

After a big week, it was so nice to stop for a minute and breathe in the weekend, to listen to the gutteral laugh of the birthday girl after having fizzy drink for the first time (care of me, oops!) and to see three generations of K's family together - to notice, in amongst the eating, playing and conversation, those occasional funny, familial moments of similarity that make me smile.

...

on cake and hummingbirds

This week has flown by and yet I can't really remember what I've done. So, I'm choosing instead to reflect on last weekend because it was rather nice.

On Saturday we headed down to the Pyrmont Farmers' Markets, sampled the wares and bought some fun vegies to inspire myself to make something healthy. What I did end up making though was a cake for my Dad's birthday on Sunday - one of my all-time favourites from when I was a kid - Hummingbird Cake. We used to visit a cafe called Trader Nick's when we were on holidays and they would serve great, dense, delicious wedges of this cake. I had never encountered it before then and was captivated. Recently, a friend told me she'd made it for her husband and almost instantly my tastebuds ignited with long-lost memories. So, I decided for Dad's surprise cake I'd revisit an old favourite.  I'm not quite sure where the name comes from but it may have something to do with the sweetness of the pineapple and banana.

Just on the subject of Hummingbirds, I'd be curious to know if you have ever seen one and if so, where? I have a distinct memory of having seen one fluttering around a flower box out of a hotel window in Italy.  I mentioned this at an English tutorial many moons ago (we were studying scientific writings by the likes of Charles Darwin) and the Professor dismissed it as geographically impossible.

Still, regardless of the geographical inclinations of hummingbirds, the cake named after them can be enjoyed anywhere. So without further ado, let's get to it eh?

Hummingbird Cake with Cream Cheese Icing
Adapted from the reliably good Women's Weekly Classic Cakes

450g can crushed pineapple in syrup
1 cup plain flour
1/2 cup self-raising flour
1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup desiccated coconut (I left this out due to family allergies but it does add a certain something to the mix)
1 cup mashed banana
2 eggs, beaten lightly
3/4 cup vegetable oil

For the frosting
30g butter, softened
60g cream cheese, softened
a nice big squeeze of lemon
1 1/2 cups of confectioner's sugar

Preheat oven to 160C fan-forced and grease and line a round cake pan.

Drain the pineapple over a small bowl and reserve 1/4 cup of the syrup.

Sift the flours, soda, spices and sugar into a large bowl and then stir in the drained pineapple, reserved syrup, coconut, banana, egg and oil, until all mixed in well.

Pour the mixture into your pan and bake for 40 minutes - 1 hour, or until a skewer inserted into the middle of the cake comes out clean. Stand in the pan for 5 minutes and then turn out onto a wire rack to cool.

For the frosting, beat the butter, cream cheese and icing together in a medium bowl, gradually adding in the lemon until a desired consistency is reached. Then slather frosting over the cooled cake. Slice up a decent wedge and enjoy with a cup of tea or, as we did, with some Tokay that my Dad had brought back from a recent trip to the wine country. Happy Birthday Dad!

...

in anticipation of citrus

The women in my family have an interesting relationship with marmalade. My grandmother loved it, I love it, my mother can't stand the stuff. Her condiment of choice is apricot jam which, as it happens, I don't mind either. But my first love is marmalade and when it's cold and rainy out or I'm having a bad day and having a flashback to being 10 and ardently not wanting to go to ballet class (this can sometimes happen when it rains a lot for some reason), it's marmalade on toast (with occasional cheese involvement) that I turn to. The ultimate comfort food.

That's why when I heard about a cake incorporating whole oranges, I almost gasped in excitement. It was marmalade in cake form. I was already tasting the saturated citrus flavours in anticipation. And so, when our friend came over on Friday night, I had the perfect excuse to make it. 

This cake makes a great dessert, with its moist and dense texture, resembling that of a baked cheesecake, but I think it truly shines as a mid-morning tea accompaniment - a small slice to go with a strong cup of Earl Grey and perhaps an Austen or a Brontë.

Whole Orange Cake with Yoghurt Topping

Adapted from The British Larder

For the cake
2 whole fresh oranges
100ml of the cooking water from the oranges
6 whole free range eggs
250g unrefined caster sugar
100g plain flour
200g ground almonds
1tsp baking powder

For the yoghurt topping
2 Tbs natural yoghurt
3/4 cup confectioners sugar
 zest of one orange

Wash the oranges; place them in a saucepan and cover with cold water. Bring the oranges to the boil and simmer for approximately 1 ½ hours, until completely soft. Let the oranges cool completely in the cooking liquid.

Preheat the oven to 150°C, grease and line a 9-inch round springform pan with baking paper. Place the boiled oranges (skin and all) in a food processor with 100ml of the cooking liquid and puree till a very smooth. Transfer the orange puree to a large mixing bowl, add the eggs and sugar and mix well. Fold the ground almonds into the batter. Sieve the flour and baking powder over the batter and fold the flour in with a metal spoon. The cake batter will be very runny.

Spoon the cake mixture in to the prepared tin, place on the middle shelf of the preheated oven and bake for 1 hour, or until a metal skewer inserted into the centre of the cake comes out clean.

Let the cake cool for 15 minutes, then turn out onto a cooling rack and cool completely.  For the topping, combine the yoghurt with the confectioners sugar and spoon over a generous slice of cake and garnish with orange zest. 

And another thing, this cake improves with time. Day 2 or 3 is a real treat.

in search of something sweet

Sometimes, when you're busy worrying about what to do with your life, a whole week can go by almost without you even noticing.

I don't know where this last week went. I think it took me the best part of the week to recover from our weekend - up and back to Newcastle on Saturday - where I had the most spectacular ocean trout, a friend's housecooling, followed by the Beach Road Hotel (which was nothing short of utter madness), and a birthday party picnic at Bronte to finish it all off on Sunday, where we enjoyed cupcakes, punch and my friend Anna's spectacular rosewater, lime and semolina cake.

There were a lot of delicious and wonderful moments in there but it was a little hectic and there was some flow-over into the week itself - tears, cheesecake, wine - you know, the usual. Anyway, phew, here we are at Friday, hot on the heels of another weekend, and the first one of Autumn to boot.

And because you've indulged me thus far I'll let you in on a little recipe. This much needed dessert happened one afternoon when I'd opened the cupboards and refrigerator more than a few times in search of something sweet, an old chocolate, something...anything. A little "bing" of inspiration went off in my head as I realised that the cream cheese and lemon I'd spied could be converted into something magnificent. I wasn't about to leave the house for any missing ingredients (such as biscuits) so crustless cheesecake was born and it fitted the bill just nicely.

Crustless Cheesecakes
Adapted from Desserts, by Victoria Chow

150g caster sugar
200g cream cheese
1 egg
Juice from half a lemon

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F and grease 2-3 ramekins. Beat the cream cheese until smooth. Add in the sugar, egg and lemon juice and beat again until smooth.  Pour the mixture into the greased ramekins and bake for approximately 20-25 minutes. You can chill them overnight or you can do as I did and grab a spoon, turn on Hawaii Five-O and dig right in.

Happy Friday everyone and hope you have a relaxing weekend ahead!