I was lucky enough to grow up in a home where food was cherished and where the food that we ate every day was both nourishing and delicious. Looking back on it now, it seems that we thought and spoke of little else. ‘What’s for supper?’ we would ask my mother when leaping up from the lunch table to race off and busy ourselves in childish pursuits. How on earth did my mother keep up with the relentless cycle of feeding voracious little beings and how on earth did she maintain her enthusiasm to cook food that strengthened our growing bones and also kept us looking forward to each and every meal. We helped of course and each of us had our own chores to perform as part of the daily life of our kitchen.
It was these chores, the constant cooking and our proximity to those goings on that ensured myself and my siblings all had more than a rudimentary grasp of cooking by the time we had reached our early teens. What a gift that is, but that is the way I look back at the food my mother cooked for us – a gift.
Certain tasks had a more elevated importance as part of the yearly cycle and perhaps none more so that the ritual and practicalities of making the Christmas cake. The plum pudding fell into the same category. Mummy took great pride in these confections and would begin by making a shopping list, transcribing quantities of dried and candied fruits, dark sugars, whiskey and so on from her hand written recipe books. A couple of sheets of thick and rigid brown paper would have to be collected from the butcher to line the cake tins. Eggs from our hens would be stored. The correct sized tin would be brought down from the top shelf of a cupboard and given a good wash to erase the years’ worth of dust and spiders.
It should be said that making a cake such as this is an expensive business, but any cost saving made with the quality of the ingredients will be revealed in a lack lustre cake. It is a once a year extravagance and I source the best ingredients with an undeniably costly price tag so as to ensure a memory of preciousness is created.
Excitement mounted as all of the ingredients were carefully weighed out. We gathered around, eyes a twinkle I suppose, as nuts were peeled and chopped, citrus fruits were zested releasing their oily flavour and perfume, dried fruits were soaked in whiskey until fat, juicy and drunk, spices were measured, eggs beaten and soon the mixing began. A capacious ceramic bowl was ideal for the volumes involved and my siblings and I all got our turn give the mixture at least one stir. With eyes tightly closed, we all made a secret wish as was the tradition in our house – a wish I suspect that may have been directed towards Santa Claus and what we might find at the end of our beds on Christmas morning. We marvelled as the caramel coloured molten mix was carefully scraped into the prepared tins. My mother had a knack of leaving just enough of the uncooked but nonetheless scrumptious mixture in the bowl or on the spatula to allow all of us to have a tiny taste.
It seemed like an age before the cooked cake emerged from the oven. In the meantime the kitchen filled with the intoxicatingly heady aroma of all the wondrous smells we associated with Christmas. We watched and learned as my mother expertly checked the cake to ensure it was properly cooked. Did it look cooked? Did it feel cooked? Was the colour correct? If the answer was yes to all of those questions, she finally and with the precision of a surgeon inserted a long thin skewer into the cake. We breathlessly awaited the retraction of the metal to confirm by its clean appearance that yes indeed, the cake was cooked. It took all of our self-control and I am sure a little vigilance on my mothers part for us not to prise a raisin or sultana from the top of the still hot cake. The cake was cooled, wrapped in layers of greaseproof and more brown paper, tied and secured with string and placed in a cupboard on high to await its finishing touches some weeks later.
The final treatment of the cake happened in our house on Christmas eve. Perhaps this was because my mothers life was so busy, or perhaps she felt as I now do that the icing of the cake closer to the time of eating makes for a more delicious and yielding result. Ground almonds were made into a paste with more whiskey and egg white and carefully rolled to wrap the entire cake. We marvelled at the skill. The application of the white royal icing was our favourite part of the whole process. Brilliant as freshly fallen snow, fluffy and yet stiff enough to hold little peaks, the wincingly sweet mixture enveloped the whole cake. We all got a chance to create our own little summit before the very serious business of placing the decrepit but much loved decorations on top. An aged ceramic Santa Claus was joined by somewhat tarnished angels and other miscellaneous festive oddities out for their annual appearance. When all was done, we just stared in wonder at the beauty of it all. How clear it all seems to me now. How precious the memory is.
The cutting and tasting of the cake again provoked a gathering. On the evening of Christmas day when all were replete with turkey sandwiches, my mother would rather ceremoniously cut a thick slice out of the cake. This slice was then divided into elegant fingers and on tasting we would all agree that yes, this years cake was the best we had ever tasted.
Ingredients
110g glace cherries or candied cherries in syrup such as Amarena Fabbri
50g unskinned whole almonds
350g sultanas or stoned medjool dates chopped into ½ cm pieces
350g currants or stoned mi-cuit prunes chopped into ½ cm pieces
350g raisins
50g ground almonds
100g candied orange or lemon peel or a mixture of both, chopped into ½ cm pieces
Zest of 1 orange
Zest of 1 lemon
5 tablespoons whiskey
225g butter
225g pale soft brown sugar
6 free range eggs
275g plain white flour
1 level teaspoon mixed spice
1 large Bramley apple, peeled, cored and grated
450g caster sugar
450g ground almonds
2 small eggs
1 drop of pure almond extract
2 tablespoons whiskey
1 egg white lightly beaten to paint on the cake before applying the almond paste
3 egg whites
600g icing sugar
1 teaspoon of liquid glucose
2 teaspoons lemon juice
Cake decorations as appropriate to your needs
You will need a 23cm round cake tin, sides and bottom carefully lined with parchment paper. The paper collar around the sides of the tin should be half as high again as the height of the tin. Line the sides and base of the tin a second time with heavy brown paper. This double lining of the tins prevents the outside of the cake from burning in the long cooking time that is required.
Preheat the oven to 180c.
Remove the cherries from the syrup and roll on a clean t-towel to dry off the excess. Cut each cherry into 4 pieces. Place the almonds in cold water and bring to a boil. Strain off and discard the water and run the nuts under cold water to cool. Pinch the nuts out of their skins, dry them and chop them finely.
Mix the cherries, chopped almonds, ,dried fruit, ground almonds, candied peel, orange and lemon zest and half of the whiskey and leave to soak for 1 hour.
Place the butter in a large bowl and beat with a wooden spoon until soft, creamy and pale. Add the sugar and continue beating until light and fluffy. Whisk the eggs and add to the sugar a little at time, beating well between addition. If the mixture shows signs of curdling, fold in a tablespoon of the flour sieved and stir. Continue until all of the egg is incorporated.
Mix the flour and the spice and stir into the mixture. Add the grated apple and the whiskey soaked fruit and again mix thoroughly . Pour the mixture into the prepared cake tin and flatten to level the surface. If you wish, you can now with dampened knuckles create a little hollow in the centre of the cake to ensure a flat topped cake when cooked.
Place a sheet of brown paper over the top of the tin and place in the preheated oven. Cook for 1 hour and then reduce the cooking temperature to 170c and continue to cook for a further 2 hours -that is 3 hours cooking time in total. Test the cake is cooked by inserting a metal skewer into the cake. The withdrawn skewer should look perfectly dry and clean. If the skewer looks moist, replace the cake in the oven and cook for a further 30 minutes and test again. When you are happy that the cake is cooked, remove from the oven and pour over the remaining whiskey. Allow the cake to cool completely in the tin before removing from the tin and wrapping it still in its cooking paper in a double layer of greaseproof paper. Store the cake until ready to ice at a later stage.
Begin by making the almond paste. Sieve the caster sugar into a large bowl and add the ground almonds. Mix well. Beat the eggs and add the almond extract and whiskey. Add almost all of this liquid to the sugar and almonds and mix to a stiff paste. It may be necessary to use all of the liquid. Sprinkle a clean work surface with sieved icing sugar, turn out the paste and knead until smooth.
Beat the egg white and paint the cake top and sides.
Divide the paste in half and using a rolling pin, roll one piece in icing sugar to fit the top of the cake. Place the cake top side down on the rolled paste and cut the paste around the edge with a knife to accurately cover the top. Turn the cake right way up to present the iced top. Firm the icing into place with the rolling pin and trim off and reserve any extra paste. Roll the remaining paste and scraps into a long cylinder the same length as the circumference of the cake. I use a piece of string around the cake to ascertain this length. Now roll the cylinder to the height of the cake. Press this on to the sides of the cake by rolling the cake on to the strip of paste and press on with your hands. I use a straight sided jam jar to roll around the sides of the cake to also help to secure the icing into place. Neaten up the top and sides, if necessary trimming off surplus paste. Place the cake on a cake board. Allow the cake to sit in a cool place overnight.
Begin by making the icing. Place the egg whites in the bowl of a food mixer and whisk until softly beaten. With the machine whisking, add the icing to the egg whites 1 tablespoon at a time. When all of the sugar has been incorporated, continue to whisk until a stiff icing is achieved. This may take up to 10 minutes. The icing should hold stiff peaks. Finally briefly whisk in the liquid glucose and lemon juice.
Working quickly and with the aid of a palate knife or an ordinary table knife, spread the icing over the top and sides of the cake. How you choose to decorate the cake is up to you. It can be a simple snow scene or a more elaborate presentation. I sometimes reserve some to the icing and place it in a piping bag fitted with a plain or star nozzle and pipe little domes or rosettes of icing on the top and at the base of the cake. If you are putting on decorations, they should go on straight away while the icing is still soft.
I like to start eating the cake within a day of icing it. I store the cake under a glass cake dome. An upturned pyrex bowl will also work perfectly.
