Apricot Cake

Dear Devon,

Summer, is perhaps my favorite season, not because of its relaxed balmy nights or the promise of vacations, but because of the sweet, ripe fruits. Every summer, I look forward to filling my fridge with apricots, peaches, watermelons, pears, and strawberries. Unfortunately, the fruits of recent summers resemble only in name and shape the fabulous fruits of years past. I can’t tell you the number of times that I have been disappointed by hard peaches, mealy pears, and green apricots. It always broke my heart to walk past those perfect looking but tasteless summer fruits. And, I am sure it’s going to be harder once I return from Barcelona. The fruit here is how I remember fruit from my childhood to taste, feel, and smell.

Juicy, sweet, and gently blushed, apricots are again my favorite summer fruit. Apricots come in two sizes, big and small. It is not the most sophisticated of classification systems, but it’s the best that I can get out of my fruit vendor. I’m partial to the smaller ones, which have a more intense honey-like flavor and are a bit more delicate. Alas, the season is already over for these gems; I will have to make it through with their larger counterparts.

The apricots are so tasty that I debated whether to bake with them. In the end, the temptation to experiment was too strong. I pieced together two of Dorie Greenspan’s recipes and invented an olive oil based cake flavored with lemon infused sugars and a splash of hazelnut oil. The cake turned out nicely, but it also turned me out of the apartment. Barcelona has been experiencing a mild summer, but August brought an inescapable wave of humidity, blinding sun, and scorching heat. (Every tourist wears a sunburn like a badge of honor. I am hidden under dark sunglasses, hat, and an impenetrable layer of spf 75 sunscreen). My tiny apartment is a death trap, especially with the oven on. But when perfectly ripe, juicy, fat apricots are in season, I can set aside temporary discomfort for a delicious slice of cake (or so I thought).


Apricot Cake
(makes one 9 inch round cake)

1 pound apricots, halved
¼ cup white sugar
2 lengths of lemon peel
½ cup brown sugar
9 tbsp olive oil
2 eggs
1 tsp hazelnut oil
1 ½ cup flour
½ cup cornmeal
½ tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
½ cup milk

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter a springform pan and set aside until ready to use.

Pick over and wash apricots, cleaning off any dirt and removing any bruised portions. Using a sharp knife, halve apricots and remove the stone. Continue until all the apricots are halved and pitted. Set aside until ready to use.

Put white sugar and lemon peel in a large mixing bowl. Using your fingertips, crush the lemon peel into the sugar, infusing the white sugar with the fragrant citrus oils. Discard peel and add brown sugar. Add olive oil and mix until a thick soupy consistency. Beat in one egg at a time, followed by hazelnut oil.

In a large mixing bowl, combine flour, cornmeal, baking soda, and salt. Measure out milk. Alternating between flour mixture and milk, add to the sugar-oil batter, beginning and ending with flour.

Pour batter into prepared cake form. Nestle halved apricots into the batter, creating a roughly circular pattern.

Bake in the oven 55 to 65 minutes, until golden brown and fragrant. The cake test works well. Allow to cool on a wire rack before serving.

It is best eaten the day it is made, but will keep well in an airtight container for 2 days after baking.

Chocolate and Sea Salt Tostadas

Dear Devon,

Short post today. I am leaving in a few hours for a weekend adventure to Valencia with a carload of friends. Packing is still on the “to do” list, as is lunch, both eating and making. But I wanted to tempt you with something to think over or possibly try this weekend.

My last half dozen posts have featured one ingredient: chocolate. I don’t confess to be a full-blown chocolate fiend (not yet that is), but I do have a completely new appreciation for it. The Spaniards love their chocolate dark, bitter, and pure. Here, chocolate is made from only three ingredients: cacao, sugar, and vanilla. No chemicals, no additives, no extra flavorings, just three ingredients, and it definitely shows in both the flavor and its shiny surface. The chocolate is richer, smoother, not overly sweetened and without that gross waxy texture that I’ve known all my life.

For the past few months, I have regularly stopped in at some of the best chocolate shops in the city. I am slowly befriending the staff and gleaning ideas for desserts and savories. Some of these shops have been in business for over 100 years, using the same techniques, recipes, and even grinder, delighting generations of Barcelonans. I can’t brag to have tried the entire stable of truffles or bonbons at any one place. Let’s just say, I have a completely new respect for chocolate and Hershey’s ranks below crayola.

My inspiration for this recipe is a bit hazy. I’ve seen variations of this flavor combination on menus, chocolate bars, and even in the NY Times. All I know is that it’s delicious, especially when you use the finest chocolate, bright sea salt and pungent olive oil. Since there are only four ingredients (bread counts too), you really need to invest in the best products. Set aside the table salt and crayons for another dish, real fleur de sel and good chocolate will make all the difference.

Chocolate and Sea Salt Tostadas
(makes 12)

1 baguette, sliced
large chunk of good dark chocolate (71% is best)
1 generous pinch of sea salt
3 tbsp olive oil

Arrange sliced baguette on a cutting board. Grate chocolate over the slices. A vegetable peeler works well, cutting the chocolate into long swirling strips. Sprinkle with a good pinch of sea salt and olive oil.

These are best eaten right away. Serve as an afternoon snack or a light dessert.

Coconut & Sea Salt Brownies

Dear Devon,

A few months ago, Melissa Clark had a recipe in the Times for brownies made with olive oil, sea salt, and shredded coconut. I bookmarked the recipe, and ran to the store to buy some shredded coconut, but it wasn’t until last week that I got around to making the brownies.

I thought I knew how to bake the perfect brownies: Moist, dense, fudgy squares with a crunchy crust. But Ms. Clark’s recipe gave me something to think about. She substitutes olive oil for butter, runs a layer of coconut through the brownie, and dusts the top with sea salt for extra flavor. Her tweaking of a classic recipe and play with unusual ingredients grabbed my interest right away.


I’ve only started to experiment with olive oil as a baking ingredient very recently. The wide variety of good and reasonably priced Spanish olive oil, plus my lack of an eggbeater, has made me reconsider recipes in which I always used butter. It’s broadened my repertoire. I’ve found that olive oil gives a nice fruitiness to cakes and baked goods, and renders a moist crumb that is sometimes lacking in butter-laden recipes.

Following Melissa Clark’s advice, I sprinkled the top of my brownies with good quality sea salt from Mallorca. This topping gave the brownies an unusual character and flavor, a bit peppery, and even buttery. Since buying a box of sea salt, my palette has felt the sparkle of salt. It’s become indispensible on my kitchen table, topping everything from fresh salads to pastas primavera. If I keep discovering new gastronomic delights, I’ll have to throw out all my clothes to make room for them in my suitcase.


Coconut & Sea Salt Brownies
(adapted from Melissa Clark NY Times 2/4/2011)

½ cup plus 2 tbsp water, boiling
1/3 cup cocoa powder, unsweetened
2 oz chocolate, coarsely chopped (70% or higher)
3 large eggs
1 egg yolk
1 tsp hazelnut oil
1 cup sugar
1 ¾ cup all-purpose flour, sifted
¾ tsp salt
2 ½ oz chocolate, chopped
1 cup shredded coconut
1 tbsp fleur de sel

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter a 9 x 13 inch pan. Set aside.

Sift cocoa powder into a large mixing bowl. Pour in boiling water and whisk until cocoa is dissolved. Add 2 oz chopped chocolate. Stir until chocolate is melted. Add olive oil and hazelnut oil. Beat in eggs one at a time, until the yolks disappear. Gradually add sugar. The mixture will look curdled and at first the olive oil will not mix into the chocolate, but keep working. With steady whisking, the batter will come together into a smooth chocolatey-mixture. Using a rubber spatula, fold in flour and table salt. Fold in 2 ½ oz chopped chocolate.

Pour batter into the oiled pan. Sprinkle with sea salt and shredded coconut. It is easiest to start with the sea salt. It’s amazing how easily the sea salt hides in the finely shredded coconut.

Bake 25 to 30 minutes. The toothpick test doesn’t work here, so be sure your oven is at the right temperature. I also like to turn on the broiler for just a bit, to get the coconut nicely toasted.

Cool on a wire rack. Cut into nicely sized squares.

Blood Orange Olive Oil Cake

Dear Devon,

Last year on Valentine’s Day, slightly blue scones— made with blood oranges— appeared on your kitchen table. I thought I’d pick up where you left off. This morning, I threw together a blood orange and olive oil cake. Blood oranges are in season. And the fiery skinned fruits are all over the market stands.

These oranges were bursting with juice and color. The smell was completely intoxicating. I felt a bit wasteful using the juice to flavor my cake. It seemed much more appropriate to drink the sweet and slightly acidic juice. I called the still groggy eyed boy into the kitchen to share in the sweet flowery smell of freshly squeezed juice.

I have tried to keep kitchen equipment and utensils to the bare minimum. Not an easy task, given my love of smooth ceramic mixing bowls, enamel coated Dutch ovens, and silicon molds. I am now forced to be a bit more resourceful. This is how I ended up using my terracotta cazuela as a baking dish.

A traditional cooking vessel, the cazuela is used for just about everything: roasting, boiling water, stewing…the list continues. Baking a cake seemed a natural extension. The thick clay walls would act almost like an oven within the oven, insulating the cake nicely and providing even heat. I suspected that these same properties would result in a beautiful crunchy crust. (I was not disappointed).

In general, it is good practice to measure the capacity of the baking vessel before filling it with batter. I only wish I had thought to measure the capacity of my mixing bowl too! Half way through the recipe, I realized that it was not possible to mix the liquids and the flour in my medium sized bowl. A bit frantic, I had to press my aluminum pot into service.


Mixing the blood orange juice into the batter, I issued a silent prayer that my cake would not turn out that light blue color of your scones. I reread your post before starting for some advice. To try to avoid the blue effect, I mixed in tangy yogurt instead of lowfat milk. I hoped the acid from the yogurt would help balance the pH of the batter.

As I poured my gooey batter into my lightly oiled cazuela, I admitted my doubts aloud. My remarks were answered with an eager request to lick the sides of “mixing bowl.” The largest spoon in the house was plopped into the mixing bowl and handed over.

The cake emerged from the oven golden on top with a wonderful crusty edge. It was moist and light with the subtle orange flavoring. The cazuela baked the cake evenly and a bit surprisingly, released the cake easily and in one piece. I cut two generous slices and served the cake with a cup of strong dark coffee. My slice wasn’t quite generous enough and as I rose to cut myself another piece, a bright voice asked for a second slice even though there was still half a slice remaining on the plate!


Blood Orange Olive Oil Cake
Makes one 10 inch round cake or one 12-cup bundt cake

2 ¼ cup flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 cup sugar
2 tbsp blood orange zest and lemon zest
2/3 cup blood orange juice (roughly 3 oranges)
3 eggs, beaten
8 oz olive oil
1 cup yogurt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly oil the baking round. I used a 12-cup capacity baking dish. The recipe is styled for a 12-cup bundt pan or equivalent round cake pan.

In a large mixing bowl, mix together flour, baking soda, and salt.

Zest one blood orange and half a lemon. Juice three blood oranges. In a second mixing bowl, mix citrus zest and sugar. Whisk in three beaten eggs, olive oil, orange juice, and yogurt.

Pour wet ingredients into the flour mixture. The mixture will look a bit curdled but it will be fine. Gently whisk until combined. Transfer batter to the prepared baking dish. Bake for 1 hour to 1 hour 15 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean.

Bake 1 hour to 1 hour 15 minutes.

Note: my baking time may vary from the standard metal baking dishes. Clay cazuelas generally take longer to heat up and probably take a bit longer when baking. I advise checking the cake at the 45-minute mark.