Orange sugar-dusted madeleines

Generally, I don't like to post anything here that requires special equipment but in all other respects this recipe fits my overall philosophy of baking: simple things that satisfy. Though I'd been curious about madeleines for some time, I didn't have a tin, and didn't particularly want to acquire a new piece of kitchen equipment that only had one purpose. But a recipe from Julia Busuttil-Nishimura's new cookbook Good Cooking Everyday pushed me over the edge... or more accurately, to purchase a madeleine tin. The idea of sweet, shell-shaped cakes eaten warm from the oven was irresistible. All the more more given they were infused with orange, a favourite flavour of mine, as the recipe index of this blog can attest. 

The brilliance of madeleines is that you make the batter ahead of time - the night before even - and they cook in a speedy 12 minutes. All you do once they're baked is tip them out of the tin and roll them in sugar. They're extremely low effort but high impact in terms of presentation and, most importantly, flavour. The real test of a new piece of kitchen equipment is whether or not you'll use it regularly, and in this case, I'm happy to report: unreservedly, yes.

Orange sugar-dusted madeleines

Adapted from a recipe by Julia Busuttil-Nishimura, as published in Broadsheet 

I was skeptical about a mixture that used a rising agent yet sat - refrigerated - for so long before baking but I can report the cakes came out perfectly, with the prettiest of little domes.

3 eggs

80g (1/3 cup) caster (superfine) sugar

40g honey

Finely grated zest of one orange

1 tsp orange blossom water

1 tsp vanilla extract

150g self-raising flour

good pinch of salt

150g unsalted butter, melted and cooled, plus extra for greasing

orange sugar

finely grated zest of one orange

80g caster (superfine) sugar

Whisk the eggs, caster sugar and honey in the bowl of a stand mixer for 8-10 minutes or until voluminous and pale. Stir in orange zest, orange blossom water and vanilla. Gently fold in flour and salt - taking care not to overmix - and finally the melted butter. Cover and place mixture in fridge for 45-60 minutes or even overnight.

For orange sugar: in a bowl, rub the orange zest into the caster sugar until the mixture is damp and fragrant. Set aside.

Preheat oven to 180 deg C. Brush a madeleine tin with the extra melted butter, then spoon about one tablespoon of batter into each mould. Bake for 10-12 minutes or until the madeleines have risen and and are lightly golden. Remove from the tin, roll in orange sugar and eat warm.

Italian orange cake

I was recently given a huge haul of citrus from a friend's farm so have been on a mission to make things with oranges, grapefruit, limes, mandarins and lemonades. This weekend I used one perfect orange to make a cake that used the fruit whole, but rather than boiling it first for two hours as with Middle-eastern orange cake, you simply blend it up fresh and integrate it into a simple batter - a little like the famous Sunset cake but with canola oil rather than butter as a base. I like oil-based cakes a lot as they're great as a make-ahead option. In terms of technique, this recipe also appealed as it was just a matter of combining wet and dry ingredients. Almost as soon as I'd started, the cake was in the oven. But my luck didn't last. Shortly after the above photo was taken, my magnificent cake sunk spectacularly as I'd pulled it out too early and the centre was entirely uncooked. Skewer tests are not failsafe as I've learned (the hard way) and next time I will definitely be using the internal-read thermometer I'd bought for this exact purpose (the internal temperature of cakes when fully baked is around 98 deg C / 210 deg F) and forgotten about. Happily, because my orange cake needed to be cut into pieces anyway as it was to be taken on a bush walk, it definitely didn't get wasted and the fully-baked bits around the edges were enjoyed up the top of the escarpment down the south coast on Sunday. They were delicious, a beautiful sweet-bitter burst of citrus in cake form on a sunny day.

Italian orange cake
Adapted from a recipe by This Italian Kitchen

I used a food processor as I don't have a blender so there were little chunks of orange studded through the crumb of the cake. I thought this rather added to its appeal, but if you like things more refined - and you own one - you may like to use a blender.

1 large thin-skinned orange
1 1/4 cups sugar (275g)

2/3 cup canola oil (140g)

3 large eggs

1 tsp vanilla

2 1/4 cups flour (300g)

2 tsp baking powder

1/4 tsp sea salt (use half this amount if table salt)

Preheat oven to 350 deg F. Position a rack in the centre of oven and grease and line a 9 inch springform tin.

Cut orange into chunks (removing any seeds you come across) and combine in blender with sugar, oil, eggs and vanilla. Process til smooth and fruit is completely puréed. Transfer mixture into a large bowl and fold in dry ingredients. 

Pour into prepared tin and bake for 40-45 minutes or until an internal read thermometer registers 98 deg C / 210 deg F. If you don't have a thermometer to gauge done-ness, use your finger to gently prod the middle of cake - if it still feels a bit wobbly, leave it in a bit longer. Use your instincts as to when it is done. The good news is that the cake is so moist from the oil and the whole orange, it's unlikely you'll ever over-bake.

Let cake sit in tin on wire rack for ten minutes, then turn out onto rack to cool completely.

Sticky triple ginger cake

It's winter in Sydney - the season for cosy cakes. The sort to have with a cup of tea, eat with your fingers, and crumb up your jumper. Ginger is a relatively new favourite flavour of mine. I'd always thought of it as old-fashioned, but now that's exactly what appeals to me about it. This is a very plain cake (it's brown, unadorned with icing or decoration) but contains hidden depths - three types of ginger, a delightful stickiness on its exterior, and a taste and texture perfect for pairing with a wedge of strong cheddar. The last one sounds odd I know, but the original recipe - by Scottish cookbook author Jess Elliott Dennison - recommended it as a serving suggestion, I tried it, and now I won't eat it any other way. As a bonus, this cake gets better with age (attractive as a make-ahead option), contains only one egg, and comes together in a single bowl (in this case, a saucepan). 

Just a note for any subscribers coming across this new recipe by accident - in order to get email notifications for new recipes on this blog, you'll have to resubscribe using the link top right. Blogger's subscribe function was discontinued about a year ago and tech is not my strong point. This is the best work-around I've found so hope it works for you!

Sticky triple ginger cake

Adapted from a recipe in Lazy Baking by Jessica Elliott Dennison

When I was in in the UK last December, I purchased some preserved stem ginger in syrup for the express purpose of making this cake. Over there, you can find it easily at any supermarket. In Australia, it's a bit harder to lay your hands on. You can buy it online, or make your own - I haven't tried it but this recipe looks good. The quantities below make quite a large cake. I tend to halve the recipe (just mix the egg with a fork before adding half) and bake it in a small loaf (21cm/8.5 inch) tin. The cooking time, I've found, is about the same.

125ml (1/2 cup) vegetable, light olive, or rapeseed (canola) oil, plus 1 tbsp for greasing tin
225g (1 1/4 cups) soft dark brown sugar
85g black treacle
150g golden syrup
1 1/2 tbsp ground ginger
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp garam masala
20g fresh ginger
3 pieces of preserved stem ginger in syrup
1 egg
300g (2 1/2 cups) self-raising flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
350ml (1 1/2 cups) milk

Preheat the oven to 160 deg C / 350 deg F. Grease and line a 23cm (9 inch) springform tin.

Combine oil, sugar, treacle, golden syrup and spices in a large saucepan and heat on low, stirring regularly with a wooden spoon, til the sugar has dissolved. Remove from heat and set aside to cool.

While oil mixture is cooling, finely grate into it the fresh ginger (no need to peel), finely chop the stem ginger and add that in too, then stir to combine. By now the mixture should be cool enough to dip your finger in. If not, wait a little longer, then crack in the egg and stir to combine (if you do this when the mixture is too hot it will scramble). 

Mix in one quarter of the flour, and the baking powder. Continue to stir in the remaining flour (in the one direction to avoid lumps forming) and mix til smooth. Next, pour in one quarter of the milk to loosen the batter. Add the remaining milk, and stir through. The mixture may look too thin or like it's not coming together but just keep stirring til smooth.

Pour batter into the lined tin and bake in the preheated oven for one hour, or until firm to the touch. Cool slightly, then turn out onto a wire rack. Keeps well in an airtight container for up to five days.

Saffron, orange and yoghurt cake

I got some saffron for Christmas. I love grocery items as gifts - the sort of things that are useful but a little luxurious, that you might not include in your regular weekly shop. Saffron, which costs a lot for a little, falls squarely into this category. So when a friend had a birthday recently, I was ready with a cake. Saffron is a subtle flavour so know this recipe will still work really well without it. But what it does offer is an enhancement of colour - a warm glow that suffuses the cake. Its fine filaments are flecked through it too, little quivers of colour. Without saffron, what you get is a great everyday orange cake, easily made with ingredients you're likely to already have on hand. But saffron makes it just a little bit special, which is what birthdays - and Christmases - are all about after all. 

Double citrus syrup cake

 

I've got a real affection for cakes flavoured with citrus. The acidity of the fruit spectacularly offsets the sweetness of sugar. The flavour feels bright and fresh in the colder months when it's in season. But perhaps it's just because the colours put me in mind of nasturtiums, a flower I love, that grows wild in Brisbane backyards. And some more southern ones too. I'm lucky enough to have them permanently on display thanks to this beautiful linocut by my dad, which has pride of place in my living room. 

But this cake! The recipe is by Julia Busuttil-Nishimura, who's responsible for some of my favourite bakes of recent years - this raspberry coconut and lime cake, this ginger cake with brown sugar cream cheese frosting... It uses both lemon and orange and best of all, can be made in advance, as it has yoghurt in its list of ingredients, and is drenched after baking in a syrup, both of which keep it beautifully moist. I made a 2/3rds quantity here and used a small loaf tin, but the the three egg version (the original recipe, as below) would be lovely in the round. It looks good just as is but if you've got any nasturtiums about, they do make a very pretty (and edible) topping. It's also excellent with berries and cream.

Sesame cake

At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I really like simple cakes. This one definitely fits the bill - made in a loaf tin, with ingredients I already had, it had the added advantage of using up some black sesame seeds that had been languishing in my pantry since buying them for some recipe I can now no longer remember. It showcases not just sesame seeds (both black and white) but also tahini. Unsurprisingly - given that ingredient list - it's like halva in cake form - lightly sweet, utterly more-ish and quite magnificent with black coffee.

 

Pineapple and ginger upside-down cake

 

Pineapples are in season at the moment in Australia. I come from Queensland, home to the Big Pineapple, and like many kids who grew up in Brisbane, visited the Golden Circle Cannery on a school excursion. Such is my fondness for this sweet, spiky fruit and the association it has for me with home (somewhere I haven't been able to go for months now because of border closures), my dad made me a book plate in honour of it. 

So obviously this cake had my name on it. There's not much more of a story than that. All I'll say is that this recipe is excellent and well worth the very slight hassle of egg separation, pineapple peeling and multiple bowls to wash up. The flavours (pineapple and ginger are a classic combination) intensify over time which means you can make it ahead, which is always a win. But the sticky caramelised top means it's delicious warm with vanilla ice cream should you choose to eat it immediately.