Danish Therapy

It’s no secret that working with dough can provide you with an ultimate means of stress relief. The process of making the dough, feeling it come together between your fingers, working it with the heels of your hands, is like squeezing your own personal stress-relief ball. Except that it’s better, both because you fully invest yourself – your time, your energy and your love – in crafting the little stress ball in the first place, and because, once proofed and baked, you can then savour your efforts.

Such was my experience with this month’s Daring Baker’s challenge. It was my first time participating in a DB challenge, and I can only say that I hope future endeavours prove to be as fun, successful and delicious. If you’re not already familiar with them, the Daring Bakers, founded by Lis and Ivonne, is an ever-expanding group of intrepid food bloggers and bakers. This month’s challenge was hosted by Kelly of Sass & Veracity and Ben of What’s Cooking?. They motivated us all to make an orange-scented, cardamom-laced Danish Braid.

Making this dough is quite similar to making croissant dough, in process at least. But fear not: it’s really not as difficult as it sounds! While I’ve conquered puff pastry many times in the past, this was my first time making yeast-leavened butter-laminated dough. It not only worked, but it worked well. My kitchen was nice and cool, which made for an easy time kneading, rolling and folding the dough. (I also took full advantage of my granite countertops, which I will terribly miss when I move in a few weeks!) For the same reason though, proofing the dough was slightly more of a challenge; I let my dough proof for 1 ½ hours in a very slightly warmed oven.

I took a back-to-basics approach making this pastry, somewhat unintentionally. I assume that I’m one of the last people on earth not to own a stand-mixer, a rolling pin or a silicone baking mat. Instead, I subbed my very own hands, an old Starbuck's travel mug, and a piece of parchment paper, respectively. What can I say? – Not that I quite know what it’s like, but I felt I was taken back to the olden days, in a good way. So if you feel a tad intimidated because you’re lacking the seemingly requisite tools, please know that it’s possible to produce a wonderful Danish Braid in their absence.

I filled my braid with a caramelized red plum mixture, and a little bit of pastry cream. The red plum filling was absolutely fabulous. It was a nice, tart counterbalance to the sweet dough. Since I had so much pastry cream leftover, I also served it on the side, though it’s by no means necessary; the pastry stands well on its own. I’m thinking I might mix up the remaining pastry cream with a little bit of heavy cream, and then churn it up in the ice cream maker for a new take on the classic vanilla. Leftover pastry cream also goes supremely well with fresh berries… or, for some of us, even just by itself on a spoon. But I’ve got to say, if you’re going to skip any part of this recipe, then skip the pastry cream; keep the plum filling and follow the Danish dough recipe to the ‘t’ (unless you have an allergy or a dietary restriction, in which case make sure to check out the Alternative DB renditions.)


Now on to some Danish goodness….

Danish Braid, Filled with Caramelized Red Plum Compote and Pastry Cream
Adapted from Sherry Yard’s The Secrets of Baking.
Makes two large Danish Braids.

[Ahead of time notes: The fruit filling and pastry cream can both be made a day or two ahead of time. They both keep for about three to four days, in the fridge. It’s best to plan the Danish dough ahead of time: It’s not overwhelmingly effort-intensive, though it does take a lot of time start to finish. It takes about four hours to actually make the dough (including turning it and letting it rest several times). It then needs to rest for at least five hours, but best do this overnight.]

For the caramelized red plum filling:
(Makes enough for 2 large braids)

4 TBL unsalted butter
12 red plums, cut up into ½ inch slices
½ cup brown sugar
4 TBL sauternes wine vinegar (any other good quality wine vinegar would work here too; lemon juice is also an acceptable sub)

(1) Brown the butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Let bubble for about six to eight minutes; it will turn to a nutty brown color and start to smell heavenly. (2) Add the rest of the ingredients to the pan and sauté for ten to fifteen minutes. The plums will eventually start to lose their shape and disintegrate into the caramel. (3) Transfer mixture to a bowl, and store in the fridge for at least a couple of hours.


For the pastry cream:
(Adapted from The American Boulangerie; makes about 2¼ cups.)

2 cups of whole milk
½ cup of granulated sugar
¼ cup of cornstarch (all-purpose flour would sub well here)
1 extra-large egg, room temperature
1 extra-large egg yolk, room temperature
¼ of a vanilla bean (contents scraped) or 1 tsp of vanilla extract

(1) Bring 1½ cups of the milk to a boil in a medium saucepan. (2) In a bowl, whisk together the eggs and remaining ½ cup of milk. (3) In a separate bowl, mix up the sugar and cornstarch. (4) Gradually add the egg and milk mixture to the sugar and cornstarch mixture, whisking as you go. (5) Once boiled, take the milk off the heat and gradually introduce it to the egg/milk/sugar/cornstarch mixture, again whisking as you go. Return the saucepan to the stovetop, turn down the heat to low-medium, and gradually pour the mixture back into the saucepan. Cook the mixture, stirring constantly, for about five to ten minutes. Make sure to really keep an eye on it and stir the whole time. You don’t want it to overcook on you. It’s done when it coats the back of a wooden spoon: dip the spoon, hold it horizontally and drag your finger across. If the cream doesn’t run, you’re good to go. (6) Pour it into a bowl and cover the surface with plastic wrap (to prevent a skin from forming). Throw the bowl in the fridge.

For the dough:
1 TBL active dry yeast (or 1 ounce of fresh yeast)
½ cup of milk
1/3 cup of sugar
zest of 1 orange
¾ tsp ground cardamom
1½ tsp vanilla extract
½ of a vanilla bean
2 large eggs, chilled
¼ cup of orange juice
3 ¼ cups of all-purpose flour
1 tsp salt

1 cup (2 sticks or ½ lb) of cold, unsalted butter
¼ cup of all purpose flour

For the actual dough instructions, click here.

Some important notes:
If you’re not using a mixer to prepare the dough:
- For the dough: Whisk together the milk and yeast. Add the sugar, orange zest, cardamom, vanilla extract, vanilla seeds, eggs and orange juice. Mix well. Sift the flour, measure it out and mix it with the salt. Place the flour and salt mixture in a large bowl, or on a pie plate. Make a fountain, with a hole in the centre. Very gradually - intermittently even - pour the liquid into the centre of your fountain. Working from the inside out, mix the liquid into the flour. Add more liquid to the fountain, and keep incorporating it into the flour. Once the dough comes together, knead it for about five minutes with the heels of your hands. (The really daring will form the fountain and bring the ingredients together on a countertop, sans any form of container. I did this, and it was the only time throughout the whole process that I feared my Danish Braid would never come together. It was a mess. The liquid rushed out of my fountain, and narrowly missed running out to the floor, into the sink, etc.)
- For the butter block: Using a whisk, you’ll want to vigorously mix up the butter and the flour, until the flour is fully incorporated. You may need to let the butter soften slightly do this the properly. If so, just make sure to pop the butter back into the fridge to chill a bit before introducing it to the dough.

For overall assembly:
- Make sure not to overstuff your braid. You don’t want the insides (no matter how good they are) seeping out the sides, or worse, stealing the show from your beloved pastry.
- Just before braiding, but after you’ve made the braid cuts, drizzle a few spoonfuls of pastry cream (if you’re using it) on top of the centre third of your prepared pastry dough. Then spoon half of the plum compote on top of the pastry cream, along the length of the body of the braid. Use the remaining half of the plum compote to fill your second braid.


Enjoy!

Just call me Gretel… SHF #44: A Sweet Slice of Canada

Not too long ago, a study suggested that women are better than men at remembering and relocating food; it seems we're in fact hard-wired to do so. This little bit of info came to me from my cousin’s facebook status update. (Isn’t that how we get all of our news these days?) But it rang true for me, and it reminded me of a cake-locating expedition that I forced my husband to accompany me on two years ago.

We were out visiting in the countryside of Quebec’s Eastern Townships, and we tagged along with our hosts on their Saturday morning errands. I wasn’t quite sure where we were going, and I found myself captivated by the luscious landscape that rolled by. At one point, we made a stop at Madame P’s house to pick up some goodies. I knew of Madame P, as I’d previously been privy to tasting some of her homemade delicacies. I was thrilled to learn that this was where her home workshop was located. It was another twenty-five minute drive back to our hosts’ house, but I paid great attention to where we were, no matter that we were in the depths of the country, no matter that the road signs were meaningless to me.

The following day, upon our departure, we verified our route back to Quebec City with our hosts. They emphasized that we turn left at the end of their driveway, and we agreed. We bid them goodbye and hopped into the car. My husband drove to the end of the driveway and prepared to turn left. ‘No, you must go right,’ I insisted. He was confused. ‘We’re going to Madame P’s,’ I clarified. Based on my foggy memory of the previous day’s reverse drive, I quite successfully navigated us back to Madame P’s little house. ‘Did you drop breadcrumbs to find your way back?’, my husband asked, incredulously.

Indeed, I had. And it was for good reason. I wanted a Gâteau Reine Élizabeth.

This month’s Sugar High Friday, hosted by its original founder, is a timely celebration of Canada Day. Of course, there are donuts, butter tarts and sugar pies. And all are delicious. But to me, nothing screams Canada more than a good ole-fashioned Queen Elizabeth Cake, which, perhaps deceptively, is in fact more Canadian than it is British. Rumour has it that this cake recipe was sold for 15¢ a pop as a wartime fundraiser in the 1940s. Thankfully the recipe has lived on, though I’ve never encountered it beyond Southern Quebec.

It’s a date and walnut cake, covered in a wonderfully sticky caramel sauce. I admit, when baked up in a loaf pan (which is how I do it), it’s not much to look at. Most people mistake it for a fruitcake and politely accept a piece. After a few bites, however, they invariably demand the recipe.

A few notes: You must serve it warm. Even a couple of seconds in the microwave would be fine. Also, the cake freezes beautifully. Let it de-frost slowly in the refrigerator.


Queen Elizabeth Cake
Translated from Recettes du Québec
Makes two 8” X 3.5” loaf-shaped cakes

For the cake:
1 cup of dates, diced
1 cup of boiling water
1 teaspoon of baking soda
1 ½ cups of flour, sifted
1 teaspoon of baking powder
¼ teaspoon of salt
1 extra-large egg
¼ cup of butter
1 cup of sugar

For the caramel topping:
5 tablespoons of butter
½ cup of brown sugar
6 tablespoons of heavy cream (%35)
¼ cup of grated coconut (unsweetened)
¼ cup of ground walnuts

(1) Pre-heat your oven to 375°. (2) Mix the baking soda into the hot water. Pour over the dates. Cover and set aside. (3) Throw the flour, baking soda and salt together in one bowl. Set aside. (4) Beat the egg with a mixer. Add the butter and sugar. Beat until smooth. Add the date mixture, and beat again until smooth. (5) Butter and flour two small loaf pans (my loaf pans were 8” X 3.5”. Alternatively, you could use one 12” X 8” cake pan.) Pour the cake batter into the pan. They might look like they’ll turn out to be pretty measly cakes at this point, but they will rise quite a bit, and you’ll also need some additional space at the top for the caramel coating. Slide them into the oven for about 25 minutes. (6) While the cake is cooking, get started on the caramel sauce. Mix the butter, brown sugar and cream together in a saucepan over medium-high heat. Bring to a boil. Once boiling, reduce to a very low heat, cover and let simmer for 10 to 15 minutes. (7) Take your caramel sauce off the heat and the grated coconut and ground walnuts. Mix well. (8) Once the cake is baked through, remove the loaf pans from the oven. Use a knife to poke small holes all over the tops of both cakes. Pour your caramel sauce over the cakes. Make sure the top is well-covered. (9) Place the cakes under the broiler for 3-5 minutes. Stand by to ensure that the cakes don’t burn. (10) Remove from the oven, and serve warm.

Low Maintenance Deliciousness

There are some things that I will never forget about Edmonton upon leaving; there are perhaps even some that I may actually miss. I’ve grown accustomed to rummaging through steaks and rump roasts while listening to country music play in the background, and to dancing my way down the baking aisle while being serenaded by Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me”. (And yes, that did take some getting used to for this Upper Canadian girl.)

What I will welcome with open arms, however, is a consistent supply of what I consider to be refrigerator necessities. Not long ago, I had another rough week of grocery shopping in Edmonton. I shall spare you the rant since passing time has calmed me down some. I’ll only mention that (i) the week’s lemons were soft and mushy - everywhere, and (ii) eggplant is rare enough not to be regularly stocked in certain grocery stores; it took me a total of one hour and trips to three different stores to find it. What became an arduous task of procuring two eggplants was especially disappointing because I was hoping for a whip-it-up-quick kinda weeknight meal.

Once I arrived home, sans lemons but with my happy little eggplants, I made quick work of fixing dinner. Some days, when I really just don’t have much time to spend in the kitchen, I still want to treat myself to a half-decent meal. On those days, simplicity is my friend. It’s an important morale booster after spending hours upon hours writing my thesis, and then worrying about writing my thesis, and then worrying about what I’ve already written in my thesis.

This meal was more than half-decent. It’s a good ole pasta alla norma, courtesy of Jamie Oliver and Epicurious. I only made one little modification, because really, in a town that may or may not regularly stock eggplant, I was not going to go on a wild hunt for some proper ricotta, parmesan or buffalo mozzarella. I just topped each bowl with a couple dollops of fromage blanc, which was already quite conveniently sitting in my fridge.

Here’s the recipe. A couple tips:

1) Do use the thin, little basil tendrils as the recipe instructs. Avoid using the thicker, woodier basil stocks, which don’t cook down very well. If you want to benefit from the added flavour, throw the woody stocks in whole, and fish them out just prior to plating.
2) This recipe will make four very large portions. If you’re starting off with a soup, salad or some other app, you can probably expect to have two portions left over for the following days’ lunches. Lucky you.
3) If you *are* in Edmonton, if you have the benefit of a car and if you would like to use some proper ricotta, parmesan or buffalo mozzarella, then head to the Italian Centre. They’ll have what you need, though if you’ve got your heart set on some fresh mozzarella then you might be wise to call ahead. Their shipments tend to fly off the shelf.

Buon appetito!

SHF# 43: Lemon and Fromage Blanc Custardy Ice Cream

I have a thing for lemon tarts. And by lemon tarts I don’t mean those foil-cupped tarts of standard pie dough and lemon curd (though those are okay too); I really mean those boulangerie-style tartes, with their crisp shortbread-like shells and luscious custard fillings. Like the ones at my former neighbourhood pâtisserie in Toronto, with their beautiful little caramelized tops. Or like the ones served up at the Tartine Bakery in San Francisco -- though, if we’re being totally honest about this, I prefer mine without the superfluous whipped cream topping.

So, when Helen at Tartelette announced that this month’s Sugar High Friday theme would be citrus, I wondered how I could not make some sort of tarte au citron.

Well, life took over (and by ‘life’ I mean ‘thesis’) and I decided to forego the pastry-making bit. Instead, I wondered about turning the tarte au citron custard into an ice cream. I tried it; it worked. A definite success for this first-time SHF-er (SHF: the sweet-themed event started by Jennifer, The Domestic Goddess).

Be warned though. If you’re on a diet, I recommend you don’t make this; but do have someone else make it for you. It surely can’t be missed, though perhaps we could all be better off not knowing the precise quantities of eggs, whipping cream and fromage blanc this little affair with deliciousness calls for.

The fromage blanc is absolutely necessary here, so don’t skip it. It’s a fresh cheese that looks like a cross between yogurt and cream cheese, and it pairs beautifully with a lemony tang. I only had to go to two stores before finding it here in Edmonton, so while it might not be totally ubiquitous, it’s not uber-rare either. It also goes by the name ‘quark’.

Lemon & Fromage Blanc Custard Ice Cream

Modified from Lucy Waverman’s version of Le Pain Quotidien’s Lemon Tart (in The Globe and Mail, May 10, 2008)

Serves 6-8. Or, makes about 2 ½ cups.

¾ cup of freshly squeezed lemon juice

¾ cup of whipping cream

¾ cup of granulated sugar

¼ cup of fromage blanc

1 tsp of grated lemon rind

2 whole eggs

3 egg yolks

1 Tbl of vodka

(1) Throw all of the ingredients, except the vodka, together in a blender and blitz for about half a minute. (2) Pour this mixture into a saucepan and set over medium heat. Stir continuously and pay close attention to it. Have a sink full of cold water ready to go. Once the custard’s ready, it will thicken quite quickly. Don’t let it cook any further or it’ll separate on you! You can test for done-ness with the spoon test: it should coat the back of your wooden stirring spoon, and it shouldn’t run when you drag your finger across the spoon horizontally. (3) When it’s good and custard-y, plunge the bottom of the pan in your sink of cool water. This will help cool it down and prevent the custard from overcooking (and splitting on you) when you pour it out into a bowl. (4) Chill the bowl of custard in the fridge for several hours, but preferably overnight. (5) Just before freezing, stir in the vodka. Freeze in an ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions. (6) For the impatient, the ice cream could be ready to go straight out of the ice cream maker, though it would certainly benefit from a little bit of time spent in the freezer hardening up. Serve with some fresh, ripe, in-season strawberries.

Things to Celebrate

It was 28 C and sunny in Edmonton on Saturday, and still beautiful today. That’s right, the weather is hot and gorgeous in Central Alberta in the middle of May. In a place where it could snow in any eleven months of the year, this is wonderful. Especially after the four-day-long-heavy-snowstorm-of-the-year that walloped us one month ago.

It’s also a long weekend – a long weekend without a cloud in sight. I will be churning out a couple of sorbets, pasta salads and homemade marshmallows. I will be attending a couple of BBQs (where we will roast said marshmallows). And I will not feel guilty that I am not spending all of this frivolous kitchen and BBQ time writing my thesis this weekend.

I found the most perfect, most fragrant ripe mango at the supermarket yesterday! This is the first mango that I’ve purchased in Edmonton that I’ve not found to be half-rotten upon eagerly cutting into it.

Definitely time to celebrate.

Operation Spice

Last fall, I was the lucky recipient of a care package from the Middle East, where my friend K currently lives and teaches. It all started when I bombarded her with questions about the markets’ spices. What types of spices are there? What do they look like? Smell like? Taste like? Are they expensive?

Being the wonderful friend that she is, K indulged my curiosity. Then she brought me a huge package of spices on her next trip home. Retrieving the spices on my end turned out to be a somewhat complicated – and humorous – affair.

The issue, you see, is that I live in Edmonton, but K was travelling to Toronto. We concocted a little plan to get the spices from point A to point B to point C, one which involved a total of five people and had the makings of some sort of espionage film.

K was to drop off the package at my in-laws’ on a certain date, where my husband would soon after retrieve it on a trip from Edmonton to Toronto. My in-laws, however, were out of town. K left the package, wrapped in its original grocery bag, on their front doorstep, and then left me a message to confirm that she’d successfully dropped it off.

Now what? I worried. What if it rains? What if someone takes them? How long will they stay out there?

I e-mailed my husband’s cousin with a frantic plea. They were safe, she assured me.

And so, when my husband arrived in Toronto two weeks later, the spices sat on the kitchen counter, awaiting the trip to their final destination 3 500 kilometres away. Me.

The brimming package included cardamom pods, cinnamon bark, dried peppers, saffron, za’atar, sumac, and a Masala mix. I was in spice heaven.

The following recipe is not Middle Eastern by any stretch, it is Indian-inspired. But it made great use of my lovely cardamom, cinnamon and dried peppers. It comes from Lucy’s Kitchen, a cookbook I mentioned in my last post. When I feel homesick, this book picks me up. I think it is the most all-encompassing ‘Toronto’ cookbook, if there ever was one. (This isn’t surprising: though Lucy regularly appears in the national Globe & Mail newspaper, amongst other publications, she is based in Toronto.)

‘But really, Toronto how?’ you ask.

Well, the contents of the book are grouped by meal category: appetizers, soup, salads, fish and seafood, poultry, meat, pastas, grains and legumes, vegetables, quickbreads, cookies and bars, pastries and cakes, and finally, desserts. What makes the book unique, however, is the sheer variety of ethnic cuisines that inspire Lucy’s recipes, with a healthy dose of Upper Canadian Scottish-inspired recipes to round things out. So, you’ll find regionally-inspired recipes for dishes like Warm Olives and Peppers, Israeli Salad, Thai Salmon Cakes, Cassoulet, Argentinean Grilled Beef, Burgundian Burgers, Cuban Stir-fry, Scottish Oatmeal Cookies and, of course, a classic Ontario Peach Pie. Lucy puts a contemporary spin on all of her dishes and offers helpful kitchen hints, tricks and shortcuts throughout the book.

So if you’re looking for a new culinary indulgence to grace your bookshelf, this might be it. Here I offer adaptations of her Cinnamon Gardens Chicken Curry and Marmalade Cake. That’s as much as I’ll share though. Go get your own. And check out her website for even more recipes.

Recently determined to make my own Indian food without the nearly requisite full dependence on Patak’s (no matter how delicious and convenient it can be), I turned to Lucy’s Cinnamon Gardens Chicken Curry. I served it with aloo gobi, rice pilau and strawberry lassis. Just prior to plating, I ran down the block to a local Indian restaurant and picked up some traditionally-made naan. Hey, you’re allowed to cheat sometimes. I think Lucy would agree.

Cinnamon Chicken
Adapted from Lucy’s Kitchen, by Lucy Waverman
Serves 4

*Note: Lucy’s original recipe uses cubes of boneless, skinless chicken breasts. I only turn to boneless, skinless chicken breasts when I’m absolutely desperate for a quick grilled dinner of some sort. I find them to be both expensive and lacking in flavour (compared to other cuts). So while Lucy takes the weeknight-dinner-in-a-flash approach, I take the weeknight-dinner-in-a-flash + make-use-of-leftovers-from-the-whole-roast-chicken approach.

Warm 1 tablespoon of canola oil in a large skillet set over medium heat. Add 1 cup of chopped onion and sauté until translucent. While the onion is cooking, prepare and measure out your spices into a bowl: 1 teaspoon of ground coriander, 1 teaspoon of ground cinnamon, ¾ teaspoon of ground cumin, 2 dried and crushed red chillies (or less if you’re sensitive to heat), ½ teaspoon of ground turmeric, ½ teaspoon of ground cardamom.

Reduce the heat to medium-low. Add ½ tablespoon of chopped fresh ginger and 2 cloves chopped garlic to the skillet, on top of the onions. The onions will help cushion the heat and keep the garlic from burning. Cook for two to three minutes. Add the spices to the skillet, stirring to coat the aromatics for a minute or so.

Add 1 pound of pre-roasted, leftover skinless chicken pieces. Toss to coat. Add ½ cup of coconut milk and 1 cup of chopped canned tomatoes. Stir well and season with salt. Once the contents come up to a boil, reduce the heat and simmer for 10 minutes. Stir in 1 cup of baby spinach and ½ cup of golden raisins. Let simmer for at least 5 minutes, but perhaps a little longer for the spices to come together. Stir in a couple squirts of lemon juice. Grind on some black pepper and garnish with chopped fresh coriander.

Weeknight-Gingery-Marmalade-Mini-Cakes

For someone who claims not to have a sweet tooth, this blog is certainly shaping up to be seriously dessert-oriented. My next post will feature a savory item – I promise. For the moment, however, I want to share this little gem with you. Not too long ago, it was 8pm on a Thursday night and the husband and I had a little dessert craving. But what could we make?

We quickly scanned a few cookbooks for some inspiration. It didn’t take long before we settled on Lucy Waverman’s Marmalade Cake, from Lucy’s Kitchen. I love this book for a myriad of reasons (I’ll describe those in my next post too – another promise). For now, Orange Marmalade Cake:

Quick enough for the impatient? Check.

Low fuss? Check.

Basic ingredients already on hand? Check.

This recipe met – and surpassed - all of our expectations. We gave it a gingery spin because we had a full jar of St. Dalfour’s extra-potent ginger-orange marmalade that needed to be used up. We then baked it up in small cake tins. The cake itself turned out to be somewhat dense, but by no means heavy. My favourite part, other than the delicious outcome, was that it came together in one bowl! Minimal prep + minimal clean-up is my kind of weeknight post-dinner indulgence.

Ginger Marmalade Cake
Adapted from Lucy’s Kitchen, by Lucy Waverman
Serves six to eight.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Butter the sides and bottoms of four 4-inch round cake tin.* Using an electric mixer, beat together ½ cup of softened butter and 1 cup of granulated sugar. Beat in 2 eggs (brought to room temperature by submerging in warm water for a few minutes), ¼ cup of St. Dalfour ginger-orange marmalade and 1 teaspoon of grated orange rind. Sift in 1 ½ cups of flour, 1 ½ teaspoons of baking powder and ½ teaspoon of salt. Beat for a couple of minutes. The batter will be very thick. It may even remind you of cookie dough. Don’t worry, you’re right on track.

Transfer the batter into the individual cake pans and throw them in the oven. You’ll want to bake them for 30-40 minutes, checking for done-ness with a toothpick. Lucy recommends covering the tops of the cakes with parchment paper during the last 15 minutes of baking time, to prevent the cakes from browning too much.

Whilst the cakes are baking, prep the glaze by bringing ½ cup of granulated sugar and ¼ cup of orange juice to a boil. Take off of the heat. Use a toothpick to prick holes all around the tops of the cakes. Generously brush cake tops with glaze. Let the cakes cool and the glaze set. Garnish with candied ginger and orange rind.

* We made multiple smaller versions of this cake, though Lucy offers instructions for one large cake. If you’d like to do one large one, then you’ll need an 8-inch round cake tin, and you’ll want to bake it for 45-50 minutes.