Sultana sandwich cake

I wasn’t actually planning on baking this weekend – the old baking mojo is waning a bit of late – but then I really really wanted some cake and I discovered that greed is just about the only thing that can overpower my laziness!

This cake plays around with a classic Victoria sponge recipe; I added sultanas (love them!) and also decided to try out the little pot of custard extract I bought from Lakeland a while back but have never used.  My thinking was to try and create a dessert, like a spotted dick and custard, but in cake form.

I made a very light buttercream and used the custard extract in that too.  It achieved the aim of a pudding in cake form and was the perfect comforting cake to have with a cup of tea on a grey Sunday afternoon.

The custard extract was different to plain vanilla extract but wasn’t quite as powerful as I’d have liked.  I used it according to the instructions on the bottle – next time I might bam it up a notch.

Ingredients

For the sponge:

265g unsalted butter, at room temperature
265g golden caster sugar
4 eggs
12 drops custard extract – or 1 teaspoon vanilla extract if you prefer
265g self raising flour
150g sultanas
Dash of milk, if required

For the buttercream:

100g unsalted butter, at room temperature
200g icing sugar
6 drops custard extract – or a dash of vanilla extract
2 tablespoons milk

Method

Preheat the oven to 180C/fan oven 160C/350F/gas mark 4.

Line two 20cm round loose bottomed sandwich tins with baking paper.

Start by making the sponge: beat together the butter and sugar until light and well combined – it won’t turn pale and whippy because of the ratios.

Beat in the eggs, one at a time.

Beat in the custard extract.

Fold in the flour and sultanas.

Add a little milk if the sponge is too stiff - you want a consistency that will drop from the spoon with only a little encouragement.

Spoon into the prepared tins and level the surface.

Bake for approximately 45 minutes (but start checking after 30 minutes) or until a skewer inserted into the cake comes out clean.

Leave to cook in the tins for 15 minutes, before de-tinning and leaving to cool completely.

Now make the buttercream: beat the butter on its own until it is light and whippy.

Beat in the icing sugar and custard extract until you have a light, non-gritty buttercream.

Place one of the sponges on the serving plate.

Spread the buttercream over the top.

Place the other sponge on top and gently press down to ‘fix’ the cake.

Serve in generous slices with a mug of tea.

Bask in the glory of the wonderful thing you have created.

Eat.

Ginger and parsnip cake

 

 

If I were to say to Mr CC I was making a carrot cake his response would be favourable.  However, when I made courgette cakes he prejudged them negatively even though he ended up eating them and liking them.  The Brussel sprout cake was admittedly ‘interesting’ (interesting in this context = bleughhhhhh! Don’t say I didn’t warn you!) but I made that before I met him so, other than hearing scare stories from survivors, he escaped it unscathed. 

 

Parsnips are basically carrots that have used higher SPF sunscreen (this view might not stand up to biological scrutiny) so I was torn whether to ‘fess up to their inclusion in this cake prior to serving it.  I decided not to and instead turned it into a game of ‘this cake has an unusual ingredient – can you guess what it is?’  He didn’t.

 

Parsnips, like carrots, have a natural sweetness but, unlike carrots, have an earthiness that added to the depth of flavour in the cake.  I’m not sure my palate would’ve detected that it wasn’t carrot but, once you know, the taste is subtly different.  The sponge was light and soft with tiny flecks of creamy coloured parsnip visible.  It was a lovely combination with the ginger. 

 

I attended the BBC Good Food show at the NEC last week and bought a bottle of ginger juice.  I used some in the buttercream; ending up with 2 tablespoons of ginger juice and 2 of syrup from the jar of stem ginger.  It added an extra bit of zing and heat – I do like my ginger to leave a lasting impression on my tongue!

 

I have never said, thought and written the word ‘parsnip’ as much as I have whilst baking this cake.  When you think about it, it’s a pretty odd word...and gets sillier the more you say it.  Parsnip.  Paaaaarsniiiipppp.  It’s a funny word – and I like it!

 

Ingredients 

For the sponges:
250g self raising flour
1 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons ground ginger
250g golden caster sugar
3 balls of stem ginger, very finely chopped
3 eggs
200g grated parsnip – this equates to two average sized parsnips
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
125g unsalted butter – melted but not hot (leave to cool for about 5-10 minutes)
Splash of milk, if needed 

For the icing:
400g icing sugar
200g unsalted butter, at room temperature
4 tablespoons stem ginger syrup from the jar

 

Method

 

Pat the oven to 180C/fan oven 160C/350F/gas mark 4.

Line two 20cm loose bottomed sandwich tins with baking paper.

Place the flour, bicarb, baking powder, salt, ground ginger and sugar in a bowl and stir together.

Add the stem ginger and stir so that it is coated with dry ingredients and not clumping together.

In a separate bowl – a large jug is easier if you have one - beat together the eggs, grated parsnip, vanilla and melted butter.

Pour the wet ingredients into the flour mix and fold together, taking care not to over mix.

If the mixture is not firm, and doesn’t drop from the spoon easily, add a splash of milk.

Spoon into the prepared tins and level the surface.

Bake for approximate 25 minutes or until a skewer inserted into the cakes comes out clean.  Mine took a bit longer – nearer 40 minutes, but it’s worth checking after 25 minutes as ovens vary.

Leave to cool in the tins for at least 20 minutes before turning out and leaving to cool completely on a wire rack.

Now make the buttercream: Beat together all the ingredients until smooth and whippy.

Place one sponge on the serving plate and use a stingy 1/3 of the buttercream to spread over the top.

Place the other sponge on top.

Use the remaining buttercream to cover the top and sides of the cake.

Place your decorated gingerbread on the cake.

Bask in the glory of the wonderful thing you have created.

Eat.

 

Brown butter spice cake

Christmas may be over but winter is definitely here, which is why I was drawn to a spicy cake this week.  This cake had so many lovely facets that appealed to me: tea, spice, treacle, brown butter and even a bit of citrus.  All the flavours were offset by a very simple classic buttercream.

It’s worth taking your time over making the brown butter.  Your nose will tell you without any doubt that there is a huge difference between brown butter and burnt butter!  Gently heat the butter and it will become foamy; let this stage pass and the butter will turn clear and a wonderful dark amber colour…and it smells divine.  It’s also a bit like caramel in that you’re better to take it off the hob just before it’s at the stage you want, as it carries on darkening and you risk taking it too far.

This is such a comforting, homely looking cake but it packs in so much flavour – the best of all worlds.  The tea and citrus lifts what would otherwise be a lovely but ordinary dense gingerbread; I expected the cake to be more sponge-like but it isn’t – it’s definitely in the gingerbread camp.    Not sure what I did but my cakes came out huge!  I had to shave a bit off each one just to get it to a size that would fit in any of my storage tins!  Still, it gave me the opportunity to photograph a whole layer:

This cake is a keeper, by which I mean you’re best off making it a day or two in advance – it gets stickier and more flavoursome.  Bring on the snow – I’m ready for it!

Ingredients

For the cake:
250g unsalted butter
250g caster sugar
2 eggs
100g treacle
250ml tea, made using 2 teabags
Grated zest of 1 orange
600g self raising flour
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground ginger
½ teaspoon mixed spice

For the buttercream:
100g unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
200g icing sugar
1 tablespoon milk
 


Method



Preheat the oven to 180C/fan160C/350F/ gas 4. 
Line two loose bottomed 20cm round sandwich tins with baking paper.
Now make the cakes: melt the butter in a pan until it turns brown (but not burned).  Do this over a gentle heat – at first it will foam, but will brown shortly after.
Strain the butter through a coffee filter or several sheets of kitchen paper into a bowl and leave to cool.
Beat the cooled brown butter into the sugar, eggs and treacle.
Stir in the cooled tea and orange zest (I put the zest in the tea so that it infused the flavour into the tea).
In a separate bowl mix together the flour, spices and baking powder.
Beat the butter mixture into the flour mixture.
Divide evenly between the prepared tins and level the surfaces.
Bake for 20-25 minutes or until a skewer comes out clean.   Mine actually took a fair bit longer – nearer to 40 minutes.
Cool, in their tins, for 20 minutes before de-tinning and leaving to cool completely on a wire rack.
Now make the buttercream: beat the butter until it is soft and whippy.
Beat in the vanilla and icing sugar.
Beat in the water.
Place one of the cakes on the serving plate and spread the buttercream over it.
Place the other sponge on top.
Bask in the glory of the wonderful thing you have created.
Eat.

Honey and poppy seed cake with honey buttercream

I am a terror for a gift shop, be it at a museum, gallery, stately home, or anywhere really.  They have always been utterly irresistible to me and I will always come out clutching a bag of ‘treasure’ which you can be pretty sure will contain, amongst other things, a fridge magnet or several fridge magnets should I have found the choice too difficult to make.  Luckily, Mr CC is supportive of the purchase of tat (sometimes through gritted teeth, but mostly with a good heart).  However, during our visit to the stunning Audley End House last weekend, Mr CC had his sensible hat on and suggested that – given our impending move – we limit ourselves to ‘edible items only’.

All this explains why I chose to bake a honey cake this week; we bought a jar of beautiful honey made by industrious Essex bees living and working in Saffron Walden.  I am funny with honey (rhyme not intended).  I love it baked into cakes or biscuits but do not like it at all on bread or toast.  I matched the honey sponge with a honey buttercream to allow the honey to be the star of the show; it is often teamed with other flavours and gets a bit lost.  Poppy seeds always add lovely texture – little bursts of crunch, and look so pretty when you cut a slice of cake.

This was a very popular cake indeed; the soft sponge and silky sweet buttercream had a vintage feel to them – the sort of cake that you’d see on an old fashioned tea-time table.  I kept the decoration simple with some wafer flowers; my logic being that bees like flowers.  I added a layer of honey lime curd in the centre of the cake, but it was only to justify the purchase of the pot of curd at my local town fair this weekend; the cake was planned without this addition.

Footnote: Limiting my purchases to edible items resulted in the purchase of: honey (good – edible!), two bags of duck food (edible…if you’re a duck), a book (eating paper won’t do you much harm, I suspect), a fridge magnet (not so edible), and a horseshoe (have a dentist on standby if you try and bite into that).

Ingredients

For the sponge:
260g unsalted butter, at room temperature
150g golden caster sugar
130g clear, runny honey
4 eggs
210g self raising flour
35g cornflour
3 tablespoons poppy seeds
1 tablespoon milk

For the buttercream:
115g unsalted butter, at room temperature
225g icing sugar
2 tablespoons clear, runny honey
1 tablespoon milk – if needed

Optional: honey curd or any fruit curd of your choice

Method

Preheat the oven to 180°C/fan oven 160°C/350°F/gas mark 4.

Line two 20cm loose bottomed round sandwich tins with baking paper.

Start with making the sponge: beat together the butter and sugar until pale and well combined.

Add the honey and beat until fluffy and whipped looking – don’t skimp on this stage.

Beat in the eggs, one at a time, adding some flour if it looks like it might curdle.

Fold in the flour, cornflour. poppy seeds and milk.

Spoon into the prepared tins and level the surface.

Bake for approximately 25 minutes or until a skewer inserted into the sponges comes out clean.  Mine took a bit longer - nearer 40 minutes.  Cover the cake loosely with foil if it's browning too quickly.

Leave to cool in the tins for about 15 minutes, before de-tinning and leaving to cool completely on a wire rack.

The sponges can be made a day in advance of assembling the cake – simply store in airtight containers.

Now make the buttercream: beat the butter until it is smooth and whippy.

Beat in the icing sugar until the ingredients are well combined.

Add the honey and beat, at a high speed, to lighten the buttercream and get lots of air into it.

If needed, add the milk to loosen the buttercream and give a nice spreadable consistency.

Now you can assemble the cake: place one sponge on the serving plate.

Spread over some curd – if using.

Spread just over half the buttercream over the sponge, placing the other sponge on top.

Spread the remaining buttercream on top.

Decorate as you wish – I used wafer flowers.

Bask in the glory of the wonderful thing you have created.

Eat.

Blueberry sandwich cake

It seemed like too long since I’d made a good old fashioned sandwich cake.  Likewise anything with blueberries.  Likewise anything with curd.  Therefore I decided to incorporate all three and make a blueberry sponge cake sandwiched with blueberry curd and buttercream. 

Most of the components of this cake are adapted from other recipes I’ve featured on my site before – the new element is the addition of the natural yoghurt in the buttercream.  It adds a nice tang and helps to cut through the sweetness of the buttercream.  I was very pleased also with the blueberry curd; I’ve yet to meet a fruit curd I didn’t like (other than lemon, obviously!)

Adding some of the curd to the buttercream made it a wonderful colour whilst keeping it natural.  Regular readers will know that I’m not mad on adding colour for the sake of it (I will occasionally do so but it has to be natural), but here the curd adds flavour too; it was a particularly fruity buttercream!

I state in the recipe to have some extra blueberries for decoration.  I put some aside but then, barely ten minutes later, ate them having completely forgotten what they were saved for.  Luckily I had some wafer daisies in the cupboard!

Ingredients

For the blueberry curd:

225g blueberries
2 tablespoons water
140g caster sugar
2 eggs, beaten
35g unsalted butter

For the blueberry sponge:
200g unsalted butter, at room temperature
200g caster sugar
4 eggs
200g self raising flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 tablespoons milk
150g blueberries

For the buttercream:

200g unsalted butter, at room temperature
400g icing sugar
3 tablespoons natural yoghurt
2 tablespoons blueberry curd

To spread on the cake: virtually all of the blueberry curd

To decorate the cake: handful of blueberries (I forgot why I’d saved some and ate them, hence no blueberries on my cake)

Method

Start by making the blueberry curd: place the blueberries in a saucepan with the water, bring to the boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for 10 minutes or until the fruit has collapsed to a mush.

Pass through a sieve using a spoon (or sieving mushroom) to push through as much puree as possible.

Discard the pulp and put the puree either in a bain marie saucepan or in a heatproof bowl over a saucepan of simmering water (the bowl mustn’t touch the water or you’ll get scrambled eggs).

Add the caster sugar, eggs and butter and stir until all the ingredients are melted and combined.

Continue to stir until the curd thickens – this can take a while so don’t panic and think it’s gone wrong; I usually find it takes about 15 minutes.

Once you can leave a trail on the surface of the curd it is ready.  It will firm up more as it cools.

Remove from the heat.

Spoon into a bowl or jar – I sieve it at this point just to make sure there are no lumps - and leave to cool completely before refrigerating.

Now make the sponge: preheat the oven to 190°C/fan oven 170°C/375°F/gas mark 5.

Line two loose bottomed 20cm round sandwich pans with baking paper.

Beat together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy – do not skimp on this stage.

Beat in the eggs one at a time, adding some of the flour if the mixture looks like it is curdling.

Fold in the flour and baking powder.

Stir in the milk.

Spoon the batter into the two pans and level the surface.

Scatter the blueberries over the top of both batters and press down gently.

Bake for approximately 20-25 minutes or until a skewer inserted into the sponge comes out cleanly.

Cool in the tins for 10 minutes before turning out the sponges and leaving to cool completely on a wire rack.

Store in an airtight container until you are ready to ‘build’ the cake.

Now make the buttercream: beat the butter until it is soft and whippy.

Add the icing sugar, yoghurt and blueberry curd and beat until well combined and smooth.

You are now ready to ‘build’ the cake: place one of the sponges on the serving plate.

Spread the blueberry curd onto the sponge and top with some buttercream.

Place the other sponge on top.

Cover the cake with the remaining buttercream.

Refrigerate until 45 minutes before serving.

Bask in the glory of the wonderful thing you have created.

Eat.

Tea-infused prune cake with honey buttercream

Prunes seem a divisive fruit, possibly because of bad childhood memories of bowls of stewed fruit so favoured by elderly relatives.  Perhaps I was an odd child (and adult) as I have always loved them.  I love their sticky sweetness and dark glossy looks.  With the dark sugar in this recipe, the prunes actually taste a lot like dates.  The CCD (Caked Crusader's Da) thought it was a sticky toffee cake...and I know what he meant;  only the spice suggests otherwise.

When I told Mr CC I was making a tea-infused prune cake this weekend his expression suggested I was joking and would I please tell him what I was really planning on making?  When he realised I wasn’t joking his expression changed to horror.  This occasionally happens re my choice of cake and invariably, a couple of days later Mr CC will try said cake (often at work, as he takes any leftovers in for his colleagues) and report ‘I tried a bit of [insert cake here] and do you know it was actually quite nice.’ This is always said in a tone that implies he finds this the most surprising thing in the history of the universe!

It seems odd adding teabags to a cake...remember to remove them before baking!  NB. I have two teabags in this photo as I doubled the quantities and made two cakes - the recipe below stating one bag is correct.

Perhaps I’m easily entertained but I always enjoy watching the bubbles created when I add bicarb to something:

This is a cake that smells great whilst baking – it’s fruity and the dark sugar gives off toffee aromas.  The cake settles on cooling but this isn’t an issue as it’s a big domed loaf when you take it out the oven.  The settling just makes it normal sized!

The recipe originally had a coffee buttercream and I didn’t see the point in pairing a tea-infused cake with such a flavour.  I changed it to a honey buttercream and thought the combination worked really well.

Ingredients

For the cake:

225g prunes – de-stoned and chopped
250ml water
1 teabag – use whichever tea you prefer, I used English breakfast
½ teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
85g unsalted butter, at room temperature
175g dark brown sugar
2 eggs
175g self raising flour
50g walnuts – very finely chopped
1 teaspoon mixed spice

For the buttercream:

110g unsalted butter, at room temperature
3 tablespoons honey
250g icing sugar

Method

Preheat the oven to 180°C/ fan oven 160°C/350°F/gas mark 4.

Line a 900g (2lb) loaf tin with baking paper.

Place the prunes and water into a saucepan (choose one a little larger than you think you need as the mix will bubble up when you add the bicarbonate of soda) and bring to the boil over a medium heat.

Remove from the heat and add the teabag.  Stir the mix so the teabag is buried under prunes.

Leave to infuse for five minutes.

Remove the teabag and stir in the bicarbonate of soda.  It will bubble up considerably.

Put to one side.

Now make the cake batter: beat together the butter and sugar until creamy.  It won’t become whippy or really light because of the ratios involved and the fact that it’s dark brown sugar rather than caster.

Beat in the eggs one at a time, adding a little of the flour if it looks like it might curdle.

Fold in the flour, walnuts and mixed spice.  You will have a very thick batter at this point – don’t worry!

Stir in the prunes (the liquid as well) and make sure that you mix it well, using a spatula to bring the thick batter up from the bottom of the bowl.

Pour (I used a ladle for greater control) the batter into the prepared tin.  The mix will be liquid enough to level itself.

Bake for approximately 40-50 minutes or until a skewer inserted into the cake comes out clean.  Don’t worry if it takes a little longer.

Leave to cool for 20 minutes in the tin, before removing from the tin and leaving to cool completely on a wire rack.

When the cake is cold you can make the buttercream: beat the butter and honey together until smooth and soft.

Add the icing sugar and beat – on a low speed at first – until the buttercream is smooth and has no hint of grittiness to it.  Grittiness is a sign that you haven’t beaten the buttercream enough to dissolve the sugar.

Pipe or spread the buttercream over the cake.

Serve in thick slices with a mug of tea.

Bask in the glory of the wonderful thing you have created.

Eat.

Famous Faces’ Favourite Fancies – Lemon and poppy seed cupcakes with lemon butter icing

I have often voiced my dislike of lemon on this site and balanced it with my family’s love of it.  I even married into a lemon-loving family so now have even more relatives flying the ‘we love lemon’ flag.  What has proven to me, once and for all, how my lemonphobic ways are out of step with society at large, are the Famous Face responses I received.  Of the responses, I would estimate that maybe as many as three quarters of the male choices are for lemon cakes of one kind or another, mostly lemon drizzle.  The ladies are far more varied in their tastes.  I wonder why this is? Do women think more about cake than men?  Are we more willing to try different flavours, whereas men find something they like and stick with it? This is also why I have to ration the Famous Faces posts....otherwise it would be week after week of lemon drizzle cakes (I can hear my family murmuring that wouldn’t be a bad thing!)

Gyles Brandreth is someone I can always remember popping up on the television in one guise or another throughout my life.  Whether you recall the ‘interesting’ jumpers he wore on TVAM, his anecdotes in Countdown’s Dictionary Corner, or his reports for The One Show, I defy you not to have had a chuckle at/with him at some point.  I remember, in my younger days, reading that Gyles and his wife ran a teddy bear museum in Stratford-Upon-Avon, now relocated to Wimbledon (the museum that is, not Stratford-Upon-Avon) and thinking this was the most wonderful thing anyone could do! Then he became a Conservative MP for Chester for five years.  I think that could be termed a broad career!

Here’s an interesting thing: for my Famous Faces feature I wrote to many different people and chose a selection of better known politicians from each of the major parties.  I have had three responses from politicians (Boris Johnson, Gyles and one who thanked me for writing but declined to answer) and they have all been from Conservatives.  What can this mean?  Is it mere coincidence?

I have tried my best to meet Gyles’ selection criteria.  He said: “a lemon cupcake with butter icing takes my fancy...who cares about cholesterol?!”  The lemon sponge element is particularly interesting in this recipe.  The combination of lemon zest with yoghurt gives it a light, lemon curd flavour.  The poppy seeds add crunch, so often missing in cupcakes.

The buttercream is as classic and simple as buttercream can get.  I think people often say that this type of buttercream is too heavy but I don’t think it is; my theory is that it isn’t whipped enough.  If you whip buttercream long enough it becomes light and fluffy – like whipped cream. 

PS. For a confirmed, card-carrying lemon hater...I thought these cupcakes were delicious!

Ingredients

For the cupcakes:

175g unsalted butter
225g self raising flour
175g golden caster sugar
2 lemons – grated zest only
3 eggs
1 tablespoon poppy seeds
100g natural yoghurt

For the buttercream:

225g unsalted butter –at room temperature
400g icing sugar
1 lemon – juice only

To decorate: flowers and sprinkles

Method

Preheat the oven to 180°C/fan oven 160°C/350°F/gas mark 4.

Line a 12 hole cupcake pan with paper cases.

Start by melting the butter over a gentle heat and then leave to cool slightly before making the cupcakes – about 5-10 minutes is plenty.

Place the flour, sugar and lemon zest in a bowl and stir together.

Stir in the poppy seeds.

Add the eggs and yoghurt to the cooled butter and whisk together.

Pour into the dry mix and combine.

Spoon into the cases – they will look fuller than with a normal cupcake batter but don’t worry; they rise nicely and won’t overspill the pan.

Bake for approximately 20 minutes or until a skewer inserted into the sponge comes out clean.  I recommend using the skewer test as the cupcakes remain pale, so judging them on colour won’t help.

Leave to cool completely on a wire rack, and remove from the baking pan as soon as it is cool enough to do so.

Now make the buttercream: beat the butter until pale and whippy.

Beat in the icing sugar and lemon juice.

Keep beating until you have a light whippy buttercream that looks almost like cream – you can’t rush this!

Spoon into a piping bag and swirl generously on each cupcake.

Decorate with sprinkles or wafer flowers.  Best eaten on the day of making.

Bask in the glory of the wonderful thing you have created.

Eat.