Cake is lovely. There is simply no other way of describing it.
It can be light, fluffy and barely appear to be there, or it can be dark, heavier and more intense.
It might have a topping on it – of icky-sticky butter-cream, which sweetens the experience far past the voyages of sensibleness. Or a topping to give texture, such as the crunch of chopped nuts, chocolate strands, or even sweet delicacies.
It might have things inside it, like gooey jam – raspberry is my favourite, but I also have a penchant for blackcurrant’s bitter-sweet edge, which offsets the richness of a warm vanilla sponge. Ah, and cake made with real vanilla is second to none.
I’m not one of these girls who have an overt desire for chocolate cake. It’s fine, but I prefer the simplicity of a Victoria Sponge over heavy cocoa beans. Or English Madeira Cake… simplicity personified.
But no fruit. Well, occasionally, may be, but I am not in favour of too many complex flavours at the same time. Christmas Cake is just too much of a good thing all at once – you can’t tell what is happening to the flavour – and I am a bit of a control freak.
The exception to the rule (isn’t there always), is carrot cake. Weird and wacky; but I like it. It has to be naked of those silly passion-fruit cream toppings though, and be lavish in its cinnamon with a hint of cloves. You see – I really know what I like, although if someone comes up with a new recipe – I’ll give it a try. Finding a new favourite is always just fine.
Maybe some chocolate chips.
Maybe it’s best when you’ve made it yourself – but also good when someone has made it for you.
And when? Well, cake can be right for any time of the day or night. It is a multi-purpose food-stuff. When the mood takes, or planned and strategized. Accompanied by tea, or port, or cream poured over. It might even share the plate with some ripe, luscious strawberries... or be drizzled with lemon syrup...
Oh dear, I’m going to have to go and buy some now…
