Previously published in Damned Intellectuals, 2003
I’ve been promising some friends, owners of two restaurants I frequent quite a lot, a taste of my bittersweet orange cake forever. And I also promised Fred and Francine I’d bake the cake to celebrate their visit to New York and recent wedding—a triumph, as Fred would say, of hope over experience.
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painting by Sophie Bearman
I’m a liar, as it turns out, for I’ve kept my promise to none of my friends. It isn’t that I didn’t want to do it, either. It’s just that the behemoth of a stove that came with my apartment has been winning a war of hostilities ever since I moved in. The thing is huge—far larger than necessary—and ugly brown. The oven doesn’t maintain an even temperature, forcing me to check a thermometer I’ve placed inside every 15 minutes. It throws off enough heat to warm the whole apartment and possibly the entire building. Just the idea of preheating the thing to 350 on a day when the temperature outside is in the 90s makes me feel queasy.
The cake I was going to make is an addictive contradiction—if you’re a fan of orange marmalade. There isn’t actually any marmalade in it, but the combination of whole oranges (and I mean everything but the seeds) and raisins gives it a marmalade-ish bittersweet sort of taste. The original recipe is from the Rosie's Bakery All-Butter, Fresh Cream, Sugar-Packed, No-Holds-Barred Baking Book. (As an aside, I first discovered Rosie's Bakery when I moved to Somerville, MA in the early 80s. They made my wedding cake... and then later I went to work for them as a cake finisher-- filling and frosting and decorating cakes for the store itself, and also special orders-- birthday, anniversary and wedding cakes. I spent a lot of time back in the kitchen with the pastry chefs learning. But I digress.)
Bittersweet Orange Cake
The preparation for it is pretty easy. Sift 3 cups of flour with 1 ½ teaspoons of baking soda, 1 ½ teaspoons of baking powder, and ¾ teaspoons of salt.
Cut 1 ½ oranges into chunks, remove the seeds and leave the rinds and pith. Place the oranges into a food processor with 1 ½ cups of golden raisins and whirl in short pulses until they are chopped but not pureed. Add ¾ cups of walnut pieces and whirl a few more times.
At this point you really do have to preheat the oven if you’ve been avoiding it.
Cream together 1½ sticks of unsalted butter, 1½ cups of sugar, and 1 tablespoon of grated lemon zest. Add 3 eggs, one at a time and scrape the bowl down after each addition.
Fold in the orange mixture and don’t be too surprised when it looks curdled. This is normal. Fold in the dry ingredients, alternating with 1 ½ cups of buttermilk.
The batter goes into a greased bundt pan—you can use butter or oil—and then into the oven for about 1 ½ hours. Let the cake cool completely before removing it from the pan—go read a book near your air conditioner.
When you have sufficiently recovered from heat exhaustion, make a glaze by combining ½ cup of fresh lemon juice with ¼ cup of fresh orange juice and 5 tablespoons of sugar. Poke holes all over the cake and use a pastry brush to apply the glaze until the cake has absorbed all of it. Or, if you feel impatient, just pour the glaze over the cake and reuse the bits that drip onto the plate (did I mention you should place the cooled cake on a plate?).
I won’t be baking this cake or anything else until I solve the Dreaded Stove Problem. I know my landlady won’t replace the thing—it works, sort of, and she, like most landlords in New York, is not one to look beyond such technicalities. I’m thinking I’ll just do something idiotic, like go buy a new one. Of course I’ll have to inform the her of my intentions, warn her that the new appliance will belong to me, talk the super into hauling the old one out, and take photos of him doing so to avoid being charged for a missing stove when I vacate the apartment. Still, I figure I’ll be here for about 6 years and that the cost of a stove that WORKS over that amount of time will be more than worth it. And anyway, there’s my health to consider. The damned thing has tried several times to kill me in addition to burning everything I cook.
(As of this date, four years later, I have not replaced the stove. Nor have I made this cake or any other baked item. I use the stove to roast things, only. Amazing what one can adjust to. Of course it helps that there are several lovely little bakeries in the neighborhood. Finally, I wish I had a photo, but I don't, for reasons that will become obvious. However, Jane of Tarting It Up posted about the same recipe a few years ago and captured some lovely photos.)
I am SO glad you stopped by my blog/I discovered yours! THIS IS MY DREAM CAKE. I cannot WAIT to make it!
Yipeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Mwoah,
Rachael
Posted by: Rachael | November 28, 2007 at 08:53 PM