I don’t profess to be any sort of domestic goddess. I think that there is a certain level of domestic perfection that comes only from the assistance of paid help, PAs, housekeepers, nannies and/or au pairs, drivers and personal shoppers, none of which I can justify or afford. Those of us that can, are able to live in a mythical world of tidiness, beautiful food, perfectly dressed and clean children and cashmere twinsets where, even if I could, I don’t think I would fit in. I like messy kids and my boobs aren’t really twin set friendly. (Did I just say boobs on a food blog?)
Every now and then though, I find I am looking longingly at the doyenne of goddesslike domesticity, envying her bevvy of staff and wishing that, even if it was just for a few moments, I had that kind of opportunity to create perfect cakes and make men swoon and women jealous just by saying ‘butter and sugar’ through my perfectly red pout or by licking something delicious off a perfectly manicured finger.
Instead of this vision, I am usually asked by my husband or eldest child if I know that I have a banana hand print on my shirt or something in my hair or food stuck to my chin. Plus, without my make-up team and stylist, my skin isn’t so smooth and dewy and my outfit is usually more wrinkled than not and on good days, but not always, stain and spot free. So, even if I could do the voice, I would wind up looking and sounding a little more slummy mummy than yummy mummy.
But try as I might to dismiss The Domestic Goddess altogether, I can’t. She, or her team, sometimes do great food. Several cake recipes I regularly use are hers. Sure, I give them a little tweak every now and then but generally the recipes are pretty perfect and not too complex and rarely disappoint. So, it is to an old Nigella recipe that I turned when I wanted to make a cake for tea that wasn’t too heavy and tasted summery. I also had some laboriously hand-picked raspberries that I wanted to add and I remembered at the end of the recipe, which was cut out of a UK magazine at least eight years ago, that she says, in the way only Nigella could, ‘I can’t stop myself murmuring ‘raspberries alongside’ to you either.’ I decided that if they would be good alongside, they would be even better in.
Mine got a little dark around the edge, which annoyed me, but it has strengthened my determination to remember to pick up an oven thermometer and to remember to set a timer.
I used the metric measurements given but measured it out in cups for those of you without a scale. Just use the same measurements throughout, if you start with grams, weigh all the ingredients in grams, etc.
Damp Lemon and Almond Cake with Raspberries adapted from a Nigella Lawson recipe I clipped out of a magazine a long, long time ago (serves 8)
225 grams (8 ounces or 1 cup) soft butter (I used salted, the original called for unsalted)
225 grams (8 ounces or 1 1/4 cup) granulated sugar (use caster sugar if you have it)
4 large eggs
50 grams (2 ounces or 1/4 + 1/3 of 1/4 cup (1/12??) all purpose flour
225 grams (8 ounces or 2 cups) ground almonds
1/2 teaspoon almond essence
grated zest and juice of two lemons
about 2/3 pint of raspberries (a few more or less isn’t going to hurt)
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line and butter a 8-9 inch springform cake tin.
Cream together the butter and sugar until almost white. One at a time, beat in the eggs. Between each egg, add a quarter of the flour until it is fully incorporated. Stir the ground almonds and then add the almond essence, lemon zest and lemon juice.
Pour half the batter into the cake tin and arrange half the raspberries, saving the nicest ones for the top. Pour the remaining batter on top of the raspberries and spread it with a spatula. Arrange the rest of raspberries on top and gently push them into the batter a bit, not too far.
Put cake in the oven and bake for about an hour. You may need to cover it with foil after about half an hour so it doesn’t burn. It is done when a tester comes out with some damp crumbs and the top is firm. remove from the oven and cool.
This cake will keep, and Nigella thinks it is better when it is a few days old. We ate it the next day and it was just fine.
* Sorry for lack of baking process photos. I don’t have enough hands sometimes.