warm spice cake

© Nick Loven


Two of my nephews are graduating from university this year, and both from the fair city of Bristol, which is one of several awesome cities on the planet. The family descended on Bristol this past weekend for a celebratory gathering, and as is tradition, everyone brought a dish with them to share. In honour of one of my graduating nephews having spent some time in Sri Lanka recently, I wanted to make a chai latte cake, with a cardamom-based sponge topped with chai-spice buttercream. With its warm notes of cinnamon, ginger and cloves, evoking a "snuggle in an armchair" mood particularly apt for the wet and cold summer the UK is currently knuckling down through, what's not to love? There are many variations in the spices used in Indian chai-wallah, and it varies from region to region, so there's a lot of scope for experimentation. I liked the sound of using black pepper, to bring out a fiery note, and because it's just plain cool to say "oh yeah, there's pepper in the frosting."

© Nick Loven

As it turns out, what I came up with didn't taste chai-ee or latte-ee at all, and certainly not reminiscent of any sort of hot beverage when presented next to my niece's ridiculously good coffee macaroons, but rather took on a life of its own. I was slightly concerned that the spices were overpowering and would not be well received, but the praise just kept on coming! It turns out that this recipe's a winner, and boy am I stuffed now.


This cake is best described as a warm spice cake, with very strong cardamom and clove overtones (the amounts of these spices could easily be reduced if you want more input from the other spices). It's best served with a hot mug of coffee or tea, and enjoyed nesting down in a plush armchair with a good book.



Lydia's Warm Spice Cake
Ingredients 
Cake batter

1 1/2 tsp ground cardamom (if you're grinding it fresh, about 30 pods should do it)
1 2/3 cups (360g) caster sugar
2 cups (275g) plain flour
1 tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
8oz (200g) butter/baking margarine (I use Stork) - butter at room temperature and unsalted
1/2 cup (125ml) milk (I use skimmed - 1% fat, but any sort is fine)
2 tsp vanilla extract
5 eggs, lightly beaten

Frosting
1 brown tea bag, steeped in about 100ml fresh-off-the-boil water, for about 10 minutes
~2 tbsp milk
2 1/2 cups (500g) icing sugar (confectioner's sugar in the US)
14oz (350g) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 tbsp + 1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tbsp + 1 tsp ground ginger
2 tsp ground cloves
2 tsp ground black pepper (not so finely ground that it looks brown, if you have very finely ground pepper I suggest you start with just 1 tsp and adjust from there based on your own taste).
1 tsp vanilla extract


© Nick Loven

Method
Preheat oven to 300°F (150°C / Gas 2 - electric oven, slightly higher if using gas).
Line two 8 inch pans (for springform pans, a good rub with butter and coating of flour will be fine, otherwise line with greaseproof paper).

Combine cardamamom, sugar, flour, baking powder and salt in the mixer bowl, then beat in the butter, milk and vanilla. Beat until light and fluffy.

Continue to beat while adding the eggs.

When just combined, pour into the two prepared tins and bake for ~45 minutes, until the top is lightly browned, and a skewer inserted in the middle comes out clean. The cake shouldn't wibble - if it does, it's not done yet. You'll also know it's perfectly done when there's a fizzing sound (like a glass of soda) if you listen closely.

Cool in pans for 5-10 minutes, then turn out, upside-down, onto wire racks to finish cooling. It also helps to place in the fridge for an hour or overnight (or freezer for half an hour if you're in a rush) before cutting and frosting.

© Nick Loven


To prepare the frosting, beat the butter with the sugar until light and fluffy. Mix in the spices and vanilla extract.

Make up the tea-infused water with enough milk to yield 120ml (scant 1/2 cup) and, once cooled, slowly add to the frosting while beating. If the mix starts to curdle, stop adding the liquid and add a little more icing sugar, about 1/4 cup (50g).


To assemble the cake, level the tops of the cakes with a sharp knife if necessary (which it might not be, if you let them cool upside-down), and slice each cake layer in two. Sandwich your now-four-layer-cake together using the frosting, and finish off by covering the top and sides with frosting too. If you're piping rose-swirls as I've done here, you'll probably need all the frosting, otherwise cover and refrigerate any that remains for naughtiness with cookies at a later date.

Enjoy!

© Nick Loven

lacy bakes

© Nick Loven
This year, Nick's grandparents celebrate their 60th anniversary. His family are scattered as far as Sweden and San Fran (ridiculously cool I know, and we've taken much advantage of this, spending time in such amazing places with the most amazing people!), so getting everyone together for such a momentous event is not easy. But most of the family was able to get together earlier this year and I was honoured to be asked to bake a cake for Pat and Arthur. As it was such a special occasion, we wanted an elegant cake that would be a showstopper in itself, so we opted for a two-tiered affair in white. Knowing they were firm favourites, the top tier was red velvet cake, and the bottom carrot cake, both from The Hummingbird Bakery cookbook, with a white chocolate buttercream. Searching for wedding cake inspiration uncovered this lacy number on Belle Amour, and it was love at first sight. I mean, look at the detailing, all those beautiful hours of love spent toiling over this magnificent cake, the texture screaming "touch me! STROKE ME!!!", and no matter how many other tabs I opened and liked the look of, this one kept calling me back. How hard could it be, right? As it turns out, it's not as hideously complicated as at first it looked, but my god does it take a lot of time. I have a tendency to underestimate the time required for almost every cake I bake, but it's not something that's ever bothered me. Until 2am, and the hundredth-or-so plunge of the cutter onto the icing, when my fingers were screaming in agony, and only half the cake was done. In these dark moments it's hard not to give up and just eat the thing, or at the very least have a design rethink and claim that "half-finished" is a very real style (and, incidentally, very fashionable). But the sugar-induced headache was already raging and, by pure coincidence, so would be the sugar-induced insomnia, and I was sort of nearly there anyway...

© Nick Loven
3am rolled by and I'd reached a stage where the cakes could be packed up, leaving the last bit of detailing between the tiers and around the base until the next evening when we arrived at Nick's parents, helped along with a glass or two of wine. The cake was topped off with a few sprigs of sugarpaste lily of the valley, which Pat had worn in her hair for the wedding all those years ago. Sadly these weren't handmade as it was too short notice, but the store-bought ones (from The Craft Company, but not currently available) worked well.

I knew it was all worth it when someone squealed "she MADE that?!!". Happy days :)

© Nick Loven
For Pat and Arthur, thanks for being an inspiration to us all.



P.S. This cake works well in the most unlikely of colours too, a friend requested this Jonathan Saunders (S/S12, so I'm instructed) -inspired combo for her birthday last month, in her favourite red velvet / white chocolate buttercream pairing. The simplified lace effect was much quicker, and just as nommy!

pistachio petit-four cake

© Nick Loven

On Saturdays and Sundays, Nick and I typically spend the mornings fighting the aphid population on the pepper plants in the greenhouse on our allotment, and trying to mouse-proof the very same greenhouse. So far, on both counts, we've failed. One thing we've finally learned though, is that after a morning at the allotment, a mug of coffee (tea in Nick's case) and slice of cake is even more welcome than normal, though it's kind of embarrassing to admit that it's taken me this long to figure out that this means that baking needs to happen on Friday night, otherwise it's a trip to Earlsdon Co-Op, and nice though Co-Op cakes are, they're no match for home-made beauties. So on Friday I hunted down a couple of mouth-watering recipes and ruthlessly cut them down to one - THE one, THE cake of this weekend, and THE one I absolutely wanted to make. Pistachio petit-four cake, from Sky High, via Smitten Kitchen, with a pistachio sponge layered with apricot conserve, marzipan and dark chocolate ganache, and topped with more of the very same. Yummy sounding and nothing to do with it being the only one I had all the ingredients for, honest. 

I was SO looking forward to this cake, I love pistachios and marzipan. Based on comments on Smitten Kitchen I decreased the ganache amount and used a combination of 70% chocolate and plain chocolate, and made a top-coat for a smooth finish, using a white chocolate ganache, to lighten the flavour contribution from the chocolate. And actually, despite my worry that the chocolate would still be too rich and overpower the pistachio-marzipan combination, it really paired very well with the sponge, and added a satisfying stickiness to the final slice. And this cake gets better with age, if it lasts that long...

© Nick Loven
If there was one improvement I could make, I think that next time I'll substitute the ganache filling/topping for a buttercream, laced with ginger syrup, to lighten and sharpen the overall texture and flavour. It's a personal choice though as I've never been a massive fan of ganache, but I'll see whether Nick's "Mmmmm, mmnice" expert judgement goes up a rank or two with the buttercream substitution before deciding which version makes it into my repertoire (though who am I kidding, if I prefer the buttercream, it's going in).