White Pepper and Ginger Lemon Cake

This recipe is the last in the category "other cakes". I am really down to just a few categories in the book: cakes with fruit, cheesecakes (one more), puddings, chocolate cookies, other cookies, and sauces.

I'm kind of sad about that because I liked the "other cakes" category, which mostly included buttery Bundt-type cakes (often with booze). I have to say I'm a Bundt-cake person because I'm the kind of person who scrapes off her frosting. Give me a nice glaze and I'm happy, though.

All this to say that I really liked this cake. Lots of butter, lots of lemon, and lots of peppery heat from the ginger and the pepper. When I tasted the batter, I thought, "Whoa, this is really spicy!" But once the cake baked and was glazed, the flavors really balanced out.

This cake was Maida's idea of taking an Early American buttermilk cake and updating it to 80s tastes: white pepper and ginger being "hot", as she cleverly puts it. There are indeed lots of recipes with fresh ginger in the book, but to me that's just delicious, not trendy. The white pepper...well, it didn't bother me, but I'm guessing the recipe would also be good with additional ginger and no pepper. If you don't have white pepper and don't feel like buying it, I would suggest that route--black pepper is just going to make the cake look weird.

Here's the recipe. 

White Pepper and Ginger Lemon Cake

1 cup (8 oz.) butter, room temperature

Finely grated rind of 2 (organic) lemons

A 1/2-inch by 1-inch piece of fresh ginger (0.5 oz.), finely grated

3/4 t. baking soda

3/4 t. baking powder

1/2 t. salt

1-2 t. (I used 1-1/2 t.) finely ground white pepper (about 1/2 t. peppercorns--I ground them in a coffee/spice grinder)

1-3/4 c. (12.25 oz.) sugar

3 large eggs

3 c. (12 oz.) sifted flour (I used 1 c. whole-wheat pastry flour)

1 c. (8 oz.) buttermilk--low fat is fine

2 T. (1 oz.) lemon juice

Heat the oven to 325. Butter a Bundt pan and coat it with bread crumbs or wheat germ or ground almonds (I used almonds). Set aside. Beat together the butter, lemon rind, ginger, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and white pepper until fluffy. Gradually add the sugar and beat another 2-3 minutes. Beat in the eggs one at a time, beating until well incorporated after each addition. On low speed, gradually add the flour in three additions alternating with the buttermilk and lemon juice in two additions. Pour into the prepared pan and bake for 1 hour 15 minutes (check after an hour) until a cake tester comes out clean and dry.

While the cake is baking, make the glaze:

1/3 c. (2.7 oz.) lemon juice--you'll need at least 3 lemons

1/2 c. (3.5 oz.) sugar

Mix well to dissolve. Let stand. 

When the cake comes out of the oven, let it cool in the pan for 5-10 minutes. Unmold the cake onto a rack over a piece of foil, waxed paper, or parchment. Give the glaze a good stir and then generously brush all of it over the cake. At first it will seem like it's too much glaze, but the cake will soak it up.

Let stand until cool and then serve in thin slices. Maida says this improves as it ages, but sadly it was all gone within two days.

Banana Black Cake

One of my favorite things about baking is using lots of ingredients. This probably goes back to my childhood baking experiences, but there's nothing I love more than putting half my spice drawer and a bunch of other stuff in a cake or a batch of cookies. Therefore, this recipe was right up my alley. See how all the ingredients barely fit into the picture?

I suppose it's also an American trait to have a lot of different flavors going on in one dessert. French desserts tend to go in for one or two dominant flavors, but American desserts tend to either have one over-the-top flavor (chocolate-chocolate-chocolate) or many mixed.

 But for this cake, almost all the flavors totally worked. The banana shone through, but so did all the dried fruits and nuts. The spices and cocoa held their own in the background. The only thing that I wasn't so sure of was the blackberry jam. I didn't really taste it, and the seeds were somewhat annoyingly crunchy (because I had overlooked the "seedless" part in the recipe and bought very seedy jam from a lady at the market). I recommend buying seedless blackberry jam for this. I'm sure it adds a nice moisture and obviously some sweetness.

 Since this is a big, dense cake with a lot going on, I made half the recipe, which filled a loaf pan plus two mini-loaf pans (with no dried fruit or nuts for Claire). The recipe below is the half recipe, which I think is the perfect amount unless you have a ton of people to bake for or want to eat cake for weeks.

Our friend Bob was visiting us when I made this cake. He got to try the lemon cheesecake and this, and he seemed to prefer this cake because of the big flavors and all the fruit and nuts. It's a tough comparison because they're such different dessert items, but this is just to say that this cake is really delicious and worth making.

Here's the recipe. Empty out your cabinets and get to it!

Banana Black Cake

1-1/2 c. (5 oz.) walnuts

1/2 c. (4 oz.) butter, room temperature

2 T. cocoa powder

1/2 t. nutmeg

1/2 t. allspice

1/2 t. cinnamon

1/4 t. salt

1/4 t. cloves

1/4 t. ground ginger

1 t. baking soda

1 t. vanilla

1/2 c. (3.5 oz.) sugar

1/2 c. (3.5 oz.) brown sugar

2 large eggs

3/4 c. (8 oz.) seedless blackberry jam

2-1/2 bananas (8 oz., peeled), mashed with a fork

2-1/2 T. (1.3 oz.) buttermilk or plain yogurt

1 cup +2 T. (4.5 oz.) sifted flour

1/2 c. (2.75 oz.) whole wheat flour

3/4 c. (5 oz.) pitted dates, cut into quarters

1/2 c. (2.5 oz.) raisins

Heat the oven to 300. Butter a large loaf pan (you may need some extra muffin tins or such). You'll also want a shallow pan to put water in (a broiler or 9x13 pan). Grind 1/3 c. (about 1 oz.) of the walnuts in a food processor; use those to coat the pan. If there are extra, let them stay at the bottom of the pan. Chop the remaining walnuts into medium-sized pieces and set aside for later.

Cream the butter with the cocoa, nutmeg, allspice, cinnamon, salt, cloves, ginger, baking soda, and vanilla in a large bowl with an electric mixer until light and fluffy. Add the sugars and beat for another minute or two. Beat in the eggs one at a time until well incorporated. Beat in the jam and then the banana. Isn't this fun? Beat in the buttermilk or yogurt, and then on low speed, beat in the flours. Take the bowl off the mixer stand and stir in the dates, raisins, and walnuts. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and cover with foil. Put about an inch of hot water in the shallow pan and put it on the bottom shelf of the oven. Put the covered cake on a rack above the hot water pan and bake for about 45 minutes. Take off the foil (some cake batter may have stuck to it) and bake another 45 minutes or so, or until a toothpick comes out clean (these were the times that worked for me: Maida recommends 1 hour covered and 1-1/2 uncovered). Let cool about 20 minutes and then unmold onto a rack to cool completely. Maida recommends chilling this and serving it cold with ice cream, but I kind of like it at room temperature, just plain--but not really plain.

Ginger Ginger Cake

It would seem from all the ginger recipes in this book that the 80's were a prime time for desserts with fresh and candied ginger. Since my mother took Chinese cooking classes in the 70s, those ingredients had become a staple in our house, but they were still pretty exotic and "nouvelle cuisine" in the 80s--so much so that I believe we had to go to the Asian food store to buy them. Now when I go to the market stand and ask for candied ginger, the vendor asks me to choose from three different kinds! Times have changed. But this remains an outstanding recipe.

 Like the Apricot Strip a couple of weeks ago, I took this cake to a gathering of new expat parents where they could gather important information and share experiences. And drink coffee and eat cake. There were lots of delicious goodies on hand. But I have to brag that I was unable to bring any cake back home with me.

In fact, the cake disappeared so fast I was unable to get a good photograph of it! As it was cooling on the table, little gremlin hands started picking at it. Children emerged from their rooms to ask if they could have "just one slice". And that one slice became a quarter, then a third, then half a cake. Finally, I had to slice it up and put it away so that there would be something to take to the gathering!

So to describe the cake: it's definitely not gingerbread, and although there's an insane amount of ginger in it, it doesn't hit you over the head. Many of the tasters commented on its subtlety. In fact, one woman insisted that the recipe could not possibly be American--I'm not sure if that was because of the subtlety or because there was no cinnamon in it. No matter--the cake is moist and buttery and delicious. Claire, the resident ginger fan, has claimed it as her birthday cake. If you love ginger, or even like it, you should make this cake.

Here's the recipe.

Ginger Ginger Cake

1 cup (8 oz.) butter, room temperature

1/4 t. baking soda

3-4 oz. fresh ginger (3-4 x 1 inch), finely grated

2-3/4 c. (19.25 oz) sugar, divided (I used 1 pound, which seemed to be plenty)

6 large eggs, SEPARATED (I almost forgot)

3 c. (12 oz.) sifted flour (I threw in a cup of whole wheat)

1 c. (8 oz.) sour cream

3/4 c. (6 oz.) candied ginger, snipped with scissors into 1/4-inch pieces

Pinch salt

Heat the oven to 350. Butter a large tube or angel food cake pan (I don't see why a Bundt pan wouldn't work here) and coat it with breadcrumbs or wheat germ or ground almonds. Cream the butter with the baking soda until fluffy. Add the ginger and all but 1/2 cup of the sugar and beat for 2-3 minutes or until light. Beat in the egg yolks. On low speed gradually add the flour in three additions, alternating with the sour cream in two additions. Stir in HALF the candied ginger (I forgot about this and added it all. The cake was still delicious.). 

In a clean bowl with clean beaters, beat the egg whites with a pinch of salt until they hold a soft shape. Gradually beat in the reserved 1/2 cup sugar and beat until the egg whites hold a fairly stiff shape--don't overbeat. 

Fold the egg whites into the ginger-filled batter in three additions. The batter is pretty heavy, so don't try to hard to incorporate the egg whites well the first two additions. When all the egg whites have been folded in, pour the batter in the prepared pan and sprinkle the reserved candied ginger on top. Bake in the preheated oven for 1-1/2 hours (mine took a little more than an hour) or until a tester comes out clean.

Let the cake cool in the pan for 10-15 minutes before unmolding it and cooling completely on a rack. Cut into slices and stash away if you want a piece.

Savannah Fig Cake

Spending time at my parents' house in the Bay Area means lots of things: fabulous weather, beautiful surroundings, and great company on the one hand; on the other, a big garage for Sami to tinker in (he's spent the week under his VW bus) and a big kitchen for me to cook and bake in. Fortunately, Dad and Sharmyn don't seem to mind my messes too much, especially when they turn out to be delicious. Like this cake, surprisingly enough.

This cake had some serious strikes against it. For one, the recipe calls for a can of figs in syrup. I suppose I could have driven all around town looking for those Oregon cans, but instead, when Safeway didn't have them, I dropped a wad on a 12-ounce package of fresh figs and decided I would poach them (about 3 cups of water, 1/2 cup sugar, a used vanilla bean, simmer for about 15 minutes). Since the figs weren't uniformly ripe, this meant a bit more texture than the original recipe had.

Once I had the figs done, the cake was a breeze: it's a pretty standard quick cake recipe involving oil (like a carrot or applesauce cake). I used half melted butter because I don't really like the texture of cakes with oil, but the oil keeps the cake moist longer.

You have nuts on the outside of the cake...

...and plenty on the inside as well. Another great thing about being in California: lots of nuts available. At least there are in the freezer here.

So the cake was a breeze, even with the little fig hiccup. The frosting, however, was a bit of a challenge. It requires a candy thermometer because the mixture needs to be taken to exactly 238, and Maida takes pains to note that there's no other way to gauge the proper temperature. Unfortunately, this thermometer, new as it was, does not show fine enough gradations for me to be able to see 238. This was a problem. Bottom line: don't buy this thermometer. Shell out for a good one.

The frosting is a bit odd in several ways: it involves buttermilk and baking soda, so it's very frothy.

Sorry about the overexposed night shots of the frosting. I wanted to get this cake frosted so we could have dessert. So these are the ingredients awaiting their stove time.

About 5 minutes in, the mixture is bubbling quite steadily. But it's not nearly close to temperature.
I should have taken the frosting off the heat BEFORE I took this picture: the frosting overcooked. We called it "hard-ball frosting", and you'll see in the first picture that it's lumpy and hard and funny-looking. So if you attempt this frosting, I highly recommend an accurate, easy-to-read thermometer, and I recommend taking it off the heat just before it actually reaches 238.

After you read all this, you may be wondering, "Should I bother making this cake?" I would say yes, if you like a spicy, moist fruit cake and a yummy caramel icing. It keeps forever even just sitting out on the counter, which it is right now. You just need to hunt down a can of figs and a candy thermometer.

Here's the recipe. Please report in if you have better luck than I did!

Savannah Fig Cake

1 17-oz. can kadota figs in syrup

2 c. (7 oz.) walnuts

2 c. (8 oz.) sifted flour

1 t. baking soda

1/2 t. salt

1 t. cinnamon

1 t. allspice

3 large eggs

1 t. vanilla

1 c. (8 oz.) buttermilk

1 c. (8 oz.) neutral oil

1 c. (7 oz.) sugar

1/2 c. (3.5 oz.) brown sugar

Put the figs in a strainer to drain--you won't need the syrup.

Heat the oven to 350. Butter a bundt pan that holds 11 cups. Grind very fine 3/4 c. (2.6 oz.) of the walnuts; use those to coat the buttered pan. Leave any extra nuts in the bottom of the pan. Chop the remaining walnuts coarsely and set aside.

Sift together the flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and allspice. In the large bowl of an electric mixer (or in a bowl with a whisk), beat the eggs to mix, and then beat in the vanilla, buttermilk, oil, and sugars until well mixed. On low speed add the dry ingredients just until mixed.

Use a knife or scissors to cut the figs into quarters; add them and the remaining walnuts to the batter. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 50-60 minutes or until a cake tester comes out clean. Cool in the pan for 10-15 minutes, then unmold and cool completely. That was the easy part. Now you'll need to make the icing.

1/2 c. (4 oz.) buttermilk

1 c. (7 oz.) sugar

3/4 c. (6 oz.) butter

1/2 t. baking soda

1 T. light corn syrup

1 t. vanilla

Get out a heavy 2-quart saucepan and butter the sides. Now put the buttermilk, sugar, butter, baking soda, and corn syrup in that pan. Set it over medium-low heat and stir it occasionally with a wooden spoon (brushing off any crystals that form with a wet brush). When it comes to a boil, turn down the heat to low, put in your candy thermometer, and be prepared to be very patient, stirring the mixture occasionally. The mixture will first foam up a lot but will then settle down. Keep waiting and stirring occasionally until the thermometer reaches 238 (after 220, it will turn brown; just keep stirring and be patient). While you're waiting, get out a small to medium-sized bowl, a larger bowl filled with ice and water, and a hand mixer.

As soon as the mixture reaches 238, pour it into the smaller bowl and add the vanilla. Put the bowl inside the larger bowl filled with ice and water and use the hand mixer to beat the mixture at high speed for several minutes until it gets thicker and lighter in color. For me this just took a minute, but my frosting was also overcooked.

Very slowly and evenly pour the icing over the cake--don't let it run off the sides of the cake and onto the plate. Enjoy with perhaps a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Mocha Chip Chiffon Cake

Things around here are definitely starting to have a winding-down, vacation-is-coming feel to them. Sure, Sami has to go to work every day and I have editing clients with no understanding of academic integrity, but the girls are out of school, the weather is warm at least one out of two days, and I seem to have time to bake.

This cake followed directly on the heels of the ginger cakes, since they disappeared quickly and without a trace. I've had my eye on this recipe for a while--I love the light richness of chiffon cakes, and I love the combination of chocolate and coffee.

So I chopped some chocolate and separated a bunch of eggs and got right to work. Besides the egg separation, chiffon cakes are a breeze. You just mix egg yolks and oil with the dry ingredients...

...until you have a thick, smooth batter, and then you whip the egg whites and fold the whole mess together.

Note my not-very thorough folding together of whites and batter. It didn't seem to be a problem.

Then you hang the cake upside-down on a wine bottle, hoping to heck that it doesn't tip over (note the new kitchen counter!)

And you dig in! Most of this cake went to a graduation event at the girls' school--the parents put on a big soirée with a giant buffet, music, flowers, etc. The cake was not served at the event, but was there to help fuel all the many volunteers who decorated, cut up fruit, cleaned, hauled, etc. Apparently it was well appreciated--at least the container I sent it in came home empty.

But I got to eat a slice or two and definitely recommend this cake. The coffee flavor isn't as pronounced as I would have liked (I might up the instant coffee a bit), but the texture is divine--like angel food but with a bit more oomph. It does go stale kind of fast, so I recommend serving it soon after making it, or at least keeping it well wrapped.

Here's the recipe. Make it when you have time and many mouths to feed.

Mocha Chip Chiffon Cake

2 c. (8 oz.) sifted flour

1-3/4 c. (12.25 oz.) sugar

1 T. powdered instant espresso (maybe a bit more)

1 T. baking powder

1/2 t. salt

1/2 c. (4 oz.) neutral oil (I used grape seed oil; canola is another good choice)

7 large eggs, separated

1/2 c. (4 oz.) Kahlúa or other coffee liqueur

1/4 c. (2 oz.) cold water

2 t. vanilla

3 oz. semisweet chocolate, cut up into small (1/4-inch) pieces (minichips might work here)

1/2 t. cream of tartar

Heat the oven to 325. Get out an angelfood cake pan--that would be a tube pan with a removable bottom, not nonstick. (If you don't have one, you could see my post about improvising one, although I don't necessarily recommend it...)

You'll need two large mixing bowls: one for your mixer and another one. Put the egg whites in the bowl for the mixer and set aside. Into the other large bowl, sift (I don't normally sift, except for these kinds of cakes) the flour, 1-1/4 cups (8.75 oz.) sugar, coffee, baking powder, and salt. Make a well in these dry ingredients and pour into it, in this order, the oil, the egg yolks, the Kahlúa, the water, and the vanilla. Get out a whisk or rubber scraper and mix together the ingredients until smooth. Stir in the chocolate pieces.

Now it's time to deal with the egg whites: add the cream of tartar to them and beat with the whisk attachment until they get quite foamy. Keep the mixer going while you gradually add the remaining 1/2 cup sugar. You want to beat them until quite stiff--Maida says to beat them a minute longer after they become firm. I just got mine to a stiff peak and that seemed to work fine.

Now you need to fold the egg yolk mixture into the egg whites. Do it about a quarter at a time, folding with your biggest rubber scraper and trying not to be too thorough at each addition. When all is mixed, pour into the tube pan and bake for 1 hour 10 minutes (mine was done after 55 minutes) or until the top springs back when lightly pressed. The cake will rise a lot and will probably crack. As soon as the cake comes out of the oven, invert it onto a (preferably empty) bottle to cool completely. When it has cooled, use a long knife or spatula to cut around the sides. When you've freed the cake from the sides of the cake pan, you'll then need to cut it out of the bottom of the pan as well. There will probably be a lot of "cook's portion" left on the cake pan.

Slice the cake with a serrated knife and serve.

Prune and Apricot Pound Cake

It was just about a week ago that Sami told me, "OK, you'll need to close the kitchen on Monday for the move. Maybe you'll want to make something to help fuel the move?"

Once again, Maida had just the right answer: fruits and nuts and butter and (cream) cheese. How much much more energy-laden can you get? So, delighted to have an excuse to use my kitchen one more time, I chopped and stirred and scraped...

...and I made a big loaf for us and little loaves to share. Except the girls took them over as soon as they got home. Even Claire, who's not a huge fruit and nut lover, really enjoyed this cake.

Indeed, this cake was excellent moving fuel. It took us from one apartment to another and gave us energy to pack/unpack just one more box. It also tasted really great.

The next recipe will come from my new kitchen in Saint-Germain-en-Laye. But in the meantime, try this one out, especially if you have heavy lifting in your future. (If there's not so much, you can halve the recipe and just make one loaf.)

Prune and Apricot Pound Cake

1/2 c. (2 oz.) blanched almonds, chopped (I used sliced, crushed a bit)

8 oz. cream cheese, room temperature

1 c. (8 oz.) butter, room temperature

2 t. baking powder

1/2 t. salt

Finely grated rind of 1 large (organic) lemon

Finely grated rind of 1 large (organic) orange

1-1/4 c. (8.75 oz.) brown sugar

4 large eggs

2 c. (8 oz.) sifted flour (I used some whole wheat)

1 c. (8 oz.) pitted prunes, snipped into thin strips

2/3 c. (6 oz.) dried apricots, snipped into thin strips

1 c. (3.5 oz.) walnut halves or large pieces

Heat the oven to 350. Butter two loaf pans and coat them with the chopped almonds. You'll probably have too many almonds--save them to sprinkle them over the top of the cake.

Cream together the cream cheese, butter, baking powder, and salt until fluffy. Beat in the grated orange and lemon rinds and then gradually beat in the brown sugar. Beat a minute or two until the color lightens. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Gradually stir in the flour at low speed. Take the bowl off the mixer and stir in the prunes, apricots, and walnuts. Pour the batter into the two loaf pans and sprinkle them with the remaining almonds.

Bake for 1 hour, check, then if the loaves still need more time, cover them with aluminum foil before baking another 20-30 minutes (mine was done well before 1 hour). Cool the loaves in the pan for 20 minutes, then unmold and cool. This keeps really well--it was still good 4 days later.

Marbleized Spice Cake

This cake was another of the many times when the process was probably more satisfying than the product--even though the product is very good. I *needed* to bake this cake.

Yes, I've been writing depressing posts about feeling overwhelmed. But things seem to be looking up, and I seem to have time to do my own baking again. This cake was one step on that road.

It was Thursday afternoon. I was home from school, and I promised myself that if I could finish my editing, I could bake a cake. I'm sure I could have caught up on my cleaning or volunteer work or one of the many administrative tasks I need to do, but I really wanted to turn butter and sugar and flour into something beautiful. Some people want Calgon to take them away, but for me that would just involve scrubbing the bathtub. Spice cake, take me away!

This cake turned out to be a fun and absorbing task. There are two separate batters that I made with two separate processes--traditional creaming and reverse creaming--just as an experiment. I halved the recipe because I didn't think we had anyone to foist cake on.

The reverse creaming was a good idea--one I had after I made the Kentucky cake, I believe. The cake batters used here are in fact quite similar to that cake. The light batter has butter and egg whites, and I haven't had luck folding egg whites into a heavy butter cake batter. This worked great and had a very nice crumb.


The cake did, in fact, do everything I wanted it to--it was fun, it worked the way I wanted it to, it made the house smell great, and it tasted really good.

The one thing about this cake is that you need to warn people about to eat it that it is not in fact a chocolate marble cake. I know I would be disappointed if I bit into a spice cake that was supposed to be chocolate cake. And it might be fun to have raisins in the spice part.

Here's the recipe. Make it if you need a break or a project or just a delicious spice cake. I'm giving the full ingredient list for a tube pan but giving my instructions for the white layer. If you halve the recipe, you'll have enough for a loaf cake.

Marbleized Spice Cake

2-1/2 c. (8.75 oz.) sifted cake flour

2 t. baking powder

1/4 t. salt

1 c. (7 oz.) sugar

3/4 c. (6 oz.) milk

1 t. vanilla

1/4 t. almond extract

4 egg whites (you'll need the yolks for the dark batter)

1/2 c. (4 oz.) butter, room temperature (this is important: reverse creaming doesn't work with cold butter)

Heat the oven to 350. Grease a large tube pan and dust with bread crumbs, ground nuts, or cocoa powder.

In the large bowl of an electric (stand) mixer, mix the flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar for 30 seconds to mix. In a measuring cup, whisk together the milk, vanilla, almond extract, and egg whites. Add all the butter and about half the liquid to the flour mixture. Beat first at low speed (flour will fly!) and then at medium speed for about 2 minutes. Scrape down the bowl. Add the remaining liquid ingredients in two additions, beating about a minute after each one and scraping down the bowl in between. The batter should be light and fluffy. Let that sit while you make the dark batter:

1/2 c. (4 oz.) butter, room temperature

1 t. baking soda

1 t. cinnamon

1/2 t. nutmeg

1/2 t. ginger

1/4 t. salt

1 T. cocoa powder

1 t. powdered instant coffee

1 c. (7 oz.) brown sugar

4 egg yolks

1/2 c. (5 oz.) molasses

2 c. (7 oz.) sifted cake flour

1 c. (8 oz.) plain yogurt

In a large bowl using a hand mixture, cream together the butter, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, salt, cocoa powder, and coffee until light and fluffy. Gradually add the brown sugar and beat another minute or two until the color has lightened a bit. Add the egg yolks all at once along with the molasses and again beat until smooth and a bit lighter in color. On low speed add the flour in three additions alternately with the yogurt in two additions. Now you're ready to marbleize.

Put a few large spoonfuls of dark batter in the bottom of the cake pan. Put a few spoonfuls of light batter in any spaces between the dark batter. Continue to layer on the cake batter until it's gone (I had about three layers). Give the pan a bit of a shake or a twist to settle it.

Bake the cake for about an hour or until a toothpick comes out clean. Let cool for about 10 minutes before unmolding onto a rack. Let cool completely before slicing. And remember to tell people it's a spice cake!

Walnut Rum-Raisin Cake

So this past week, Maida and I had a conversation. It went something like this:

"Maria! You need to bake something!'

"I don't know, Maida. It seems like overkill. We still have some fruit bars and zwieback lying around."

"But Maria, you have the day off and a pound of butter in the fridge! You should really bake something!"

"Yeah, but it's just going to sit around. I don't have anyone to give anything away to, and Julia is giving up sweets for Lent."

"All the more reason to bake today, Mardi Gras! You should make Walnut Rum-Raisin Cake. It is moist, keeps well, is easy to make, and especially delicious."

"Well...it's true that I have nothing to do today. And that recipe does look good. If it keeps well, we can maybe get through a half recipe..."

Strangely enough, I had all the necessary ingredients right there. Bit of trivia: I read or heard somewhere that Hemmingway's favorite drink in Paris was Rhum St. James. I just bought it because it was cheap. Come to think of it, that's probably why he did as well.

Half a recipe is perfect for a loaf pan; the whole recipe would have been a Bundt.

As Maida promised, this was really easy to make--it's just a standard butter cake with a lot of additions.

And there it is, golden brown and delicious, soaked in rum syrup.

Funny story--this cake was gone within 48 hours. I swear it wasn't me! I think it was all Sami ate for two days. He called it the "rum-soaked deliciousness". Even Claire the Raisin Hater didn't mind it. Maida was right. Once again.

Therefore I'm giving you the original recipe for the full Bundt pan. Even if you think you won't eat it, you probably will. And after all, it keeps well.

Walnut Rum-Raisin Cake

1 c. (5 oz.) raisins (use a mix of dark and golden if you have them)

1/3 c. (2.7 oz.) dark rum

2-1/4 c. (8.5 oz.) walnuts (Maida says this is also good with almonds, if you prefer)

1 cup (8 oz.) butter, room temperature

2 t. baking powder

1 t. baking soda

1/4 t. salt

1/4 t. nutmeg

finely grated rind of 2 (organic) lemons

finely grated rind of 2 (organic) oranges

1 t. vanilla

1 c. (7 oz.) sugar

2 large eggs

2-1/2 c. (10 oz.) flour (I used some whole wheat, as usual)

1 c. (8 oz.) buttermilk (or plain yogurt thinned with some milk)

If you're good at planning ahead, put the raisins and rum in a jar and let sit overnight, giving it a shake whenever you think about it. If you're like me, put them in a microwave-safe dish and zap for about 30 seconds, or until steamy. Let sit for an hour or so.

Preheat the oven to 350.

Put about 3/4 cup or about 1.5 oz. walnuts in your food processor and process until quite fine. Butter a Bundt or other fancy tube pan heavily and coat as best you can with the walnuts. Any leftover walnuts can stay at the bottom of the pan. Chop the remaining walnuts into medium-sized pieces--6 to 8 pulses in the food processor.

In the large bowl of an electric mixer, cream the butter with the baking powder, baking soda, salt, orange and lemon rinds, and vanilla until light and fluffy--a minute or two. Gradually add the sugar and beat for another minute or two. Then add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each. At low speed mix in the flour in three additions, alternating with the buttermilk in two additions. Take the bowl from the mixer and add the rum-raisins (don't drink that rum--put it in the cake batter!) and the walnuts. Pour into the prepared pan. Bake for 55-60 minutes or until a cake tester inserted gently comes out clean. Let cool in the pan for about 10 minutes. While the cake is cooling, make the rum syrup:

1/2 c. (3.5 oz.) sugar

1/4 c. (2 oz.) water

1/4 c. (2 oz.) orange juice

3 T. (1.5 oz.) lemon or lime juice

1/4 c. (2 oz.) dark rum

In a small saucepan over moderate heat, stir together the sugar and water. Bring to a boil and let boil without stirring for 2 minutes. Take off the heat. (By the way, you've just made simple syrup, the basis of many a cocktail. Actually, come to think of it, this rum syrup over ice would make a lovely cocktail...) Add the orange juice, lemon juice, and rum.

Unmold the cake onto a cake platter and then brush it with the syrup. It's a lot of syrup, but the cake will eventually end up soaking it all in. I got impatient and just carefully poured on the syrup, and that seemed to work well. Let cool and enjoy the rum-soaked deliciousness.

Walnut Cake

I learned a few lessons from making this cake. The first is that if I wait to take pictures until the light is good enough, they won't get taken. Thus there's only this one picture.

Next lesson: Don't count on leftovers even with a large Bundt cake when there are a lot of hungry expat ladies around. Especially when the cake is really good, as this one appears to have been. The only taste I got was the crumbs that stuck to the pan. Delicious.

Final lesson, somewhat disturbing to me: I now have A Reputation for Cake. I brought this cake to a gathering of said expat ladies--we were gathering to learn more about how to find a job in France. Much information was shared, many stories were told. And of course there was food--an Italian buffet and a table covered with homemade cakes, one of which was this one. I was standing around eyeing the wares when my friend Gabriela pointed to the walnut cake and said, "That one's yours, right?" Guilty as charged. How did she know? "Your cakes are always so...grainy." I assume that was a compliment. Since she later confessed that there was no more cake because she had stashed a few slices in her bag, I think it was.

So...to the cake. It's just a really good pound cake, grainy with walnuts. The nutmeg and brandy give it a festive touch, and the walnuts cut the general sweetness that is a hallmark of these Maida desserts. Good stuff.

Here's the recipe. Make it when you have a lot of people to feed, or make it for yourself and enjoy the graininess.

Walnut Cake

2-1/2 c. (9 oz.) walnuts

1 cup (8 oz.) butter

1 t. baking powder

1/2 t. salt

1/2 t. nutmeg

1 t. vanilla

1/4 t. almond extract

5 t. brandy

2 scant cups (12 oz.) sugar

5 large eggs

2 c. (8 oz.) flour (I used a bit of whole wheat)

Heat the oven to 325 (170) and get out a tube or Bundt pan. Butter the Bundt pan really well. Then grind about 1 cup of the walnuts in a food processor and pour them in the pan. Shake the pan and sprinkle the nuts around the tube, coating the pan as well as you can. Pour a few of the excess nuts into a small bowl for later. While you have the food processor out, use it to pulse the remaining walnuts until they're chopped medium-fine.

Cream the butter in the large bowl of a mixer with the baking powder, salt, and nutmeg until light and fluffy. Add the vanilla, almond extract, and sugar and beat at medium-high speed for about 2 minutes. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, beating until each is incorporated. After you add the last egg, beat the mixture for about a minute. On low speed, beat in the flour and then add the walnuts, either mixing by hand or very carefully with the mixer. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and then sprinkle the reserved walnuts on top.

Bake for about 1-3/4 hours (check after 1 hour, and every 10-15 minutes after that), or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Let cool in the pan for 20-30 minutes, then invert on a plate. My cake did not want to come out, even after I ran a spatula around the edges, so I just let it sit upside down and eventually it came out fairly cleanly.

Let cool completely, slice relatively thinly, and get in line for a slice.

Ginger Carrot Cake

Life has been a bit crazy lately, and it seems I haven't baked. Which is odd, because when the going gets tough, I get into the kitchen. But after I make it into the kitchen and bake, the next question becomes, "Who's going to eat this?" So finding an excuse to bake, especially after the December excesses, becomes a bit of a challenge.

But finally, after househunting and editing and running around town trying to get my paperwork in order, I decided that I would make a cake to serve as part of a little drinks party we had with our neighbor. I made a kind of grown-up pigs in blankets, and these and these, and there was cheese and nuts and this cake. And Champagne. And there were just 5 of us! But I think we all enjoyed it.

There are two main characteristics of this cake: the very intense ginger taste and its moisture and sweetness. The ginger--2 ounces is a lot of fresh ginger!--almost took the cake over to the savory side. And the amount of oil and milk and eggs really made the cake dense and moist. A bit too much for my taste...

Maybe I didn't bake it enough--though usually overbaking is my forte. But this cake is definitely in the like but not love camp. Claire, my Number One Ginger Fan, loved it, however--and she's not much of a dessert person. So there's definitely an audience for this.

So I'm going to recommend this for people who enjoy ginger a lot and who like a really moist, dense cake. Here's the recipe.

Ginger Carrot Cake

2/3 c. (2.25 oz.) walnuts

2 oz. preserved or candied ginger (who can find preserved ginger any more?)

2 oz. (a piece about 3 by 1.5 inches) fresh ginger

3/4 lb. carrots

2 c. (8 oz.) sifted flour

1 c. (4.5 oz.) sifted whole wheat flour

2 t. baking powder

1/4 t. salt

5 large eggs

1 t. vanilla

scant 2 c. (11 oz.) sugar

1 c. (8 oz.) tasteless salad oil (I used grapeseed and a bit of hazelnut)

1 c. (8 oz.) milk

Heat the oven to 350. Get out a Bundt or other tube pan and grease it. Chop the walnuts fine in a food processor. Put them in the pan and tap them around to coat the pan. Tap the extra nuts out onto a piece of paper or something and save them for the top of the cake.

For the carrots and ginger, you can use a food processor or a box grater. If you use a food processor, I would use the metal blade to mince it (turn on the machine and drop small pieces through the feed tube) and then put in the grating disc for the carrots. I used a box grater and used the big holes for the carrots, the small holes for the fresh ginger, and the slicer for the candied ginger. In summary, you want the carrots and fresh ginger grated and the candied ginger sliced thin. OK, the hard work is done now. The rest is a piece of cake.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flours, baking powder, and salt. In the large bowl of a mixer (or just a large bowl--you can do this by hand with a whisk), beat the eggs at high speed for a few minutes until light and fluffy. Add the vanilla and sugar and beat until well mixed. Then add the oil and milk and beat that until well mixed. Add the dry ingredients and beat only until incorporated. If you're using a mixer, take the bowl out of the mixer and add the carrots and gingers. Mix that well, making sure there are no giant clumps of anything. This is a thin batter; pour it into the prepared pan and sprinkle on the remaining walnuts.

Bake for 1 hour and 5 to 10 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean and the top springs back when gently pressed. Let cool in the pan for 15 minutes, then unmold and let cool completely. Enjoy a slice for breakfast, as an afternoon snack, or as a bit of dessert. I bet it would be fabulous with cream cheese.