Pistachio and lemon loaf

Since my success with Nigella Lawson's lemon tendercake, I've looked to expand my range of reliably delicious cakes that just happen to be vegan. I'd come across this recipe, from Ochre Bakery in Detroit, some time ago, and it was every bit as good as I hoped. Moist and nutty from the ground pistachios, puckeringly sour sweet with lemon and in loaf form, it's an easily made and transportable picnic cake. 

Fridge cake

Yotam Ottolenghi has a new book! I don't own it (yet) but my friend Joanna does and I recently spent a pleasurable couple of hours at her place pawing through its pages. As you might imagine, there is so much great stuff in there - Joanna made me the Chicken Marbella, which was amazing - and it's all geared towards simplicity. This cake eschews ovens entirely and constructs a spectacular sweet from the bits and bobs we have in our store cupboards: a partial packet of plain biscuits leftover from making a cheesecake base ages ago, and assorted dried fruit and nuts (whatever you have lying around) are mixed together with some melted chocolate, butter and golden syrup, spread in a tray, stuck in the fridge and that's it. The hardest part is having to wait the couple of hours til it's set to tuck in.

Pistachio and rosewater cake with mascarpone and roasted plums

Incredibly, this is the 200th recipe I've posted here. For a while, I wasn't sure if I'd post it at all because in my haste to carve up this cake and serve it I didn't get a great photo but if this isn't a celebration cake, I don't know what is. Nothing says decadence like a dessert containing a budget-blowing boatload of pistachios. Roasted and chopped, they're bound with eggs, sugar, lemon zest and a dash of rosewater and baked into what is essentially, in taste and texture, one large macron - a sweet, chewy centre cased in a crisp exterior... with mascarpone cream and roasted plums piled on top. The end result is elegant, effortless, gluten-free and most importantly, delicious. Especially on a sticky Sunday afternoon in Brisbane surrounded by friends.

Pistachio cake

Though I often wish it were otherwise, I am not a terribly spontaneous, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants person. I arrive at airports with so much time to spare, I don't miss deadlines, I am always early to everything... which is why I love a cake you cake make a bit in advance. The sort that is actually improved with a day or two to sit and let its flavours settle. This is one of those. Pistachios are pricey to be sure but believe me, this is worth the splurge and anyway, if you buy in bulk, it's not so bad. A friend of mine who doesn't drink points out that people think nothing of spending money on a nice bottle of wine, so why not good grocery items... particularly when they're the star of the show, and such a pretty colour. I can't say enough good things about this cake. Its texture is quite unlike any I've encountered before - a dense crumb but not dry in the slightest - the oils in the nuts take care of that. The flavour all comes from the pistachios, with the sticky lemon syrup drizzled over the top a satisfyingly sweet/sharp accent to it all. It's excellent with black coffee with which I had it for breakfast this morning - an uncharacteristically spontaneous act inspired by something I prepared earlier.

Orange blossom, yoghurt and cardamom cake

 

If you like to bake, birthday cake is the best. There is nothing nicer than making one for someone you love, unless that person is under ten and the cake in question has to resemble a Disney character or something similarly complex requiring graph paper, a work plan and multiple tins. I'm in awe of my friends with kids who routinely turn out these marvels. This cake was not for a kid but for a very good friend with a big double digit birthday, but there's no need for birthday cake to be grown up. All that matters is that it's sturdy (to hold up all those candles), sweet, and good enough to go back for seconds...

 

This one succeeds on all scores. As I gave as a birthday present, Hetty McKinnon's first cookbook Community, it was fitting that this recipe comes from her second, Neighbourhood. It's full of all sorts of good things (pistachios! orange blossom water! cardamom! yoghurt! cream cheese!) and presents the prettiest palette of pale orange, pink and green. I'm predisposed to orange as a cake flavour for birthdays - it's not just sweet but somehow joyful in its brightness, both in flavour and hue. 

 

Though fittingly celebratory, this is actually quite a modest cake, requiring only two eggs, a small (but sufficient) amount of icing and seriously, no technique at all - the butter is melted, so it's just a matter of combining the wet ingredients with the dry and bundling the resultant batter in the oven. Minus the candles, it's an effortless everyday cake, good for lunchboxes and picnics, easily cut and carried. Equally suited to forks or fingers.

Ginger cake with lemon and pistachio icing

Ginger is a flavour I've only recently come to appreciate in baking. Perhaps because in childhood it was associated most strongly with gingerbread, which in turn was associated most strongly with Hansel and Gretel, who were punished for nibbling on a house made of it by being almost cooked alive by a witch.

This isn't a gingerbread though - it's lighter, and more light-hearted than that, containing as it does, a whacking big amount of golden syrup and a rich, buttery frosting. This is cake, make no mistake -  sticky and squidgy, sweet and indulgent... There's something quite wonderful about the fusion of adult flavours (ginger, lemon, cloves, pistachios) with those of childhood (golden syrup, icing sugar, cinnamon). A bit like having your cake and eating it too. With no fear of witches.

Pistachio and orange blossom cake

When I was growing up, there were two birthday cakes in heavy rotation in the family repertoire. Devil's Food was one and orange the other. As a child, I was pre-programmed to love anything chocolate, but orange had the edge in one important way: its colour just made you happy - just the sort of thing to brighten your lunchbox the day after your birthday when the candles had been blown out and all the presents unwrapped. Now I'm an adult, but orange cake for birthdays never gets old. And so I made one for a friend on the weekend.

  
This a celebration cake that's both simple and luxurious. Two different types of nuts (almonds and pistachios) enrich a sweet, buttery base whose texture contrasts beautifully with a smooth mascapone frosting streaked with zest and fragrant with orange blossom. Because birthdays should be bright. Orange, always.

Caramelised fennel grain bowl

A few weeks ago, I was in the United States. Every place I went, grain bowls were everywhere. I did not want a grain bowl. I was in the United States. I was on holiday. I wanted burgers and doughnuts and pizza and pancakes and pie. And Mexican food. I came home after eating all those things and I wanted a grain bowl. So I made one. Grain bowls are the new salad. As the name suggests, instead of lettuce or greens, they're built around grains: brown rice, quinoa, barley, rye, freekah and, in this case, farro. To this sturdy base, are added all sorts of different flavours and textures - salty, sweet, crunchy, chewy, spicy... You don't really need a recipe, but because I'm a recipe-follower, I found one, and liked it so much I've made it a number of times now. Fennel is a particular favourite of mine. I like it raw as much as I do braised but I'd never had it caramelised before. It turns out it couldn't be easier - just roughly chop the bulb into bite size pieces, tumble them into a skillet with a bit of oil and a sprinkling of sugar and watch them turn from white to deep, delicious coppery-brown. Add this to the cooked farro along with some sharp, salty fetta, chopped, toasted pistachios (for crunch), lemon and mint (for freshness), harissa (for heat) and dates (for sweetness). It's salad that's healthy but hearty, and packed with flavour. Better for you than a burger, and just as good.

Persian love cake

As the name suggests, this is a cake to make you swoon. Almond meal is the cornerstone ingredient, cleverly incorporated into the two different textures  - a crunchy, caramelly base and a smooth, tangy torte laced with nutmeg and studded with pistachio. If that sounds complicated, trust me, it's not. 

No need for food processors, all you need is a bowl and a wooden spoon. It takes less than ten minutes to make, and about half an hour to bake. The most difficult part about the whole process is waiting for it to cool to room temperature to eat.

It's like a cheesecake, without the bricks of cream cheese, bought biscuits or complicated water baths. It's simple, sophisticated and incredibly, gluten-free. Make it. Fall in love. What better way to start the new year.