A Winter Confession
In the midst of wallowing about in February's grim grey chill, I began to think about where I have spent Februarys for the last how ever many years. Urk's unfriendly glumness comes to mind, as do several Caribbean winters - not in the least bit grey. Thailand, again not grey at all. Turkey - grey by times, but with an expat/yachtie comaraderie that made it less so. France - a little grey but you are in France and distractions are easy to come by, so it doesn't really matter. England - mostly grey but second home to me and daffodils and crocus are blooming so you are lulled into a sense of spring by default. Then, last winter's Mallorca - not as warm and sunny as I expected but when sunshine grows outside your kitchen door, it makes the dullest of greys sparkle with spring promise.
That lemon tree saw us through tonsillitis, several failed attempts at recipeless and stingily sugared lemon marmalade, teatime for many a visitor, exports to the UK, preserved lemons - which do not travel well and too many gin and tonics - for others, not for my pregnant at the time self. Thinking about it now, I realize that winter would be bleak without the promise of guilt laden citrus fruit with a carbon footprint like a Hummer from places that don't dream of days when the temperature rises above zero. And, that I would go crazy if I really had to rely solely on ever softening apples and the ever dwindling remnants of the frozen and squirreled away summer berries and rhubarb from an all too short growing season for the extent of my winter fruit fix.
So, here I confess to buying a bag of lemons from way beyond a hundred miles away and all to make one cake. One cake that sang out to me from the pages of a newly acquired cookbook, one of six that I had been coveting and in a midwinter moment of insanity all too hastily clicked upon and bought. It made me think of Eastern Mediterranean summer days and iced earl grey tea with a slice of lemon in dripping glasses and that made my winter blahs disappear for a little while, and my cookbook induced post-purchase depression too.
In my desperation to get the cake made, I neglected to check the cupboard for semolina, I normally have it and use it pretty regularly. In the post move, new baby fug that still hangs over our house some days, it apparently ran out and didn't make its way onto what should be a shopping list but is usually a random scribble of appointments, notes, phone numbers and to dos. So, at 9:17pm, after zesting and juicing seven lemons and creaming the butter, sugar and eggs, I needed to try and figure something out. After emptying everything out of the pantry cupboard just to be sure there was no semolina, I had a pretty good idea of what was available and I settled on cornmeal. I knew the texture would change and I would have to adjust the amounts a bit, but it would still be good. Wouldn't it?
Sticky Lemon-Yogurt Cake adapted from Greg Malouf and Lucy Malouf's artichoke to za'atar
Cake
8 ounces butter
1 cup sugar
4 teaspoons lemon zest
Beat together until pale and smooth.
4 eggs
Beat in to butter mixture, one by one, ensure each one is completely incorporated before adding the next one.
1/2 cup plain flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 1/2 cups fine semolina, or, 1 cup cornmeal
2 1/4 cups ground almonds
Fold into eggs and butter.
6 tablespoons lemon juice
1 cup plain yogurt
Mix in after dry ingredients are incorporated.
Pour the mixture into a greased 8 inch springform pan and bake at 325° F for 50-60 minutes, or until firm to the touch and golden brown. (If you use cornmeal, you will probably find that you need to bake it for longer, I did.)
Syrup
1 cup lemon juice
1 cup sugar
1/2 tablespoon brandy
Combine in small saucepan and bring to the boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes.
Remove the cake from the oven and pierce it all over with a skewer. Pour the syrup over the hot cake and allow it to soak in. The cake will keep weel in an airtight container for 3-4 days.
The smell of this was anything other than winter, citrusy fresh and toasty almond and a faint hint of the brandy as I poured the syrup over the top.
This morning, as Poppy tried to convince me that it would be a good second breakfast, she also decided it looked plain. I expect she was really looking for buttercream or pink marshmallows to liven it up but settled for our frozen stash of summer fruit and a dusting of icing sugar.
And, it was pretty delicious with a steaming hot mug of earl grey tea, with a slice of lemon, of course.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Reader Comments (5)
Leah, you are not only a fantastic Mom and wife. you are creating memories for your family through your passion of food. Poppy will always remember your marshmallows, as will anyone who has eaten one.
This site just gets better and better!
Angela
What a delight - a joy to read as well as fab. recipes to follow. The plank salmon will always remind me of you and days in Falmouth X
Hi Leah
I just love your site - it's lovely to read and lovely to look at and when I get the time maybe lovely to have a go at some of the dishes New York Cheesecake Yum!!! maybe I can get it going at The Cadeleigh!
As a NZ er be very careful re ANAZC biscuits - they are an institution to us antipodians as are Afghan Biscuits and Lammingtons !!
Elspeth - I know the ANZAC biscuits are pretty much sacred, that's why I have stopped calling the ones I've mucked about with ANZACs. It just wouldn't be right!