Showing posts with label citrus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label citrus. Show all posts

Monday, February 14, 2011

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.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Meyer Lemon Honey Madeleines

Dear Devon,

I finally had a chance to sit down and read through your copy of Patricia Wells' Simply French. I paid special attention to your dog-eared pages and added a few tags of my own. Before returning the book, there are a few recipes I must try out. I am drooling over her recipes for thick veal chop with wild mushrooms and asparagus (p. 175), and cheese and bacon potato cake (p. 203). But today, I am once again enamored with the idea of making madeleines.


I realize I already told you about my love for these delectable shell-shaped cookies, but I must do it again. Please indulge me. I'm always looking for new ways to make madeleines, and Patricia Wells offers five variations! (Madeleines aux cinq parfums: au chocolat, au citron, au miel, aux noisettes, et aux pistaches.) Obviously, she loves madeleines as much as I do.

I considered her flavoring techniques and made some adjustments in my latest dozen. Using a mortar and pestle, I ground the lemon zest into the sugar, gently persuading the zest to release its essential oils. What the Meyer lemon lacks in size it more than makes up for in flavor. The zest is intense and flowery. The juice is like lemon concentrate, with sweet notes and a distinct tang. The addition of honey subdued the intense lemon flavor while adding a subtle nuttiness. It is popular to take your tea with lemon and honey, why not a madeleine?

The only thing consistent about a madeleine is its shape. I am always surprised how different the recipes are for these treats. Patricia Wells asks for six large egg whites whisked until frothy and mixed with 13 tbsp of melted butter and 1/2 cup of finely ground almonds. I'm sure it tastes fantastic, but I'm not in the mood to separate eggs, so I went back to Dorie Greenspan's recipe from Baking from My Home to Yours.

Waiting for them to emerge from the oven, I am tortured by their sweet buttery fragrance. At the end of my patience, I burned my hasty fingers sliding them from their molds. The results, as always were fantastic. Tart lemon and the round, smooth flavor of honey are perfect in the buttery madeleine.

Meyer Lemon Honey Madeleines (makes 12)
adapted from Dories Greenspan Baking from My Home to Yours
inspired by Paricia Wells Simply French p. 262-265

2 eggs
5 tbsp butter, melted
4 tbsp sugar
1 tbsp honey
3/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 cup cake flour
pinch of salt
1 meyer lemon

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Butter and lightly flour a madeleine pan. Set aside.

Melt butter in a double boiler over moderate heat. Set aside to cool. Using a mortar and pestle, grind sugar and zest from one Meyer lemon. Whisk together eggs and sugar until pale yellow and doubled in size. Fold in the sifted flour, pinch of salt, and baking powder. Gradually whisk in cooled melted butter, honey, and juice of the Meyer lemon. Spoon into molds and bake 12 to 15 minutes until golden brown and plump. The madeleines should slide easily out of their molds. Serve with coffee or tea.