In the absence of bread, 'let them eat cake' was reputedly uttered to the starving masses by Marie-Antoinette. Whilst there is no evidence that she actually spoke these words, or whether the tone was ironic, as with most myths, the story is more compelling than the truth.
Whilst I prefer to eat crusty bread over cake any day, there is one exception - an exquisitely moist orange 'halva' cake that has been a staple in my somewhat limited sweets repertoire for over a decade now.
I remember first eating it at a friend's place after dinner - it was love at first bite. Duly, my friend hand-wrote the recipe for me. Since I have shared it with many - at dinner parties, at school cake stalls, at afternoon teas. The handwritten recipe has since disintegrated, and so I typed it up, and pass it around whenever I'm asked. Following another request recently, I decided that a blog waxing lyrical about this cake, whilst somewhat indulgent, was definately called for.
Only just the other night it took it to a group, where we devoured it over a bit of wistful armchair travel - most appropriate given its exotic Eastern-inspired roots. The next day I polished it off with a neighbour as our kids disappeared up a large tree in our back yard. We quickly scoffed the last juicy morsels before we could be coerced outisde to respond to their calls for help: 'How do we get down?!'
It has all the elements of the perfect cake by my reckoning - moist, not too sweet, and scented with the gorgeous smell of oranges, with slightly bitter overtones from the peel. Recently I made it with my father-in-law's homegrown oranges, and was astounded at the difference in flavour, a powerful citrus punch cutting across the sweet syrup.
The beauty of it is that by substituting polenta for semolina, it becomes gluten free. Adding to the convenience factor, it's made with ingredients I usually have in my pantry, especially since I use olive oil instead of butter. And it doesn't take too long to make - what more could you ask of a cake?
One more thing - if you want to go the next level, you can add Grand Marnier and smother it in clotted cream. Only then will you fully realise why Marie-Antoinette implored the masses to eat cake.
What a salivating read Spiri.
Put the kettle on...i'm coming over for a slice.
Posted by: Katerina | 04 August 2011 at 04:35 PM