We seem to need little excuse for a party here in the UK, and HRH Queen Elizabeth II’s 70-year shift on the throne is set to be no exception. Whether you’ll be raising a lunchtime gin and Dubonnet to our sovereign’s stamina or simply making the most of the bonus day away from your desk, the Jubilee is the perfect pretext for baking.
While you’ve left it a little late to enter Fortnum & Mason’s rather fabulous sounding Platinum Pudding Competition, I urge you not to be deterred from donning your aprons and dusting off your cake tins. F&M’s FAQs reason that a pudding can be ‘steamed, baked, layered or rolled’ and is ‘open to interpretation’ -– so the following recipes are my understanding of the genre, perfect for a right royal knee’s up.
For any street party spread, scones are a non-negotiable and, before any low-fi bakers close their browser, let me remind you that these take just minutes to make and little longer to bake. I have earmarked these rosemary and honey scones by Benjamina Ebuehi to try out, but traditionalists won’t be able to go far wrong with Delia Smith’s classic recipe for buttermilk scones. To ensure a peaceful jubilee, let’s all agree to disagree on the cream and jam hierarchy.
If, like me, you’ve put your faith in the weather to comply with celebrations and planned an al fresco gathering (*quietly packs cagoule*), then a showstopping dessert is in order. Few things impress me more than a trifle – which I am self-aware enough to recognise as a lack of ambition – and a recent favourite is Alison Roman’s coconut and banana cream pudding which, topped with glace cherries, feels fittingly retro. Adhere to Alison’s recommendation of serving a glass dish or bowl so everyone can see those summertime-hued layers. Growing up, my mum always made a pavlova at the same time as trifle to use up the leftover egg whites, and if you’re also of a meringue persuasion, I’d recommend the Meringue Girls’ genius recipe for balsamic cherry party pavlova, which perfectly cuts through all that mallowy sweetness with homemade labneh and a touch of vinegar.
While you could of course keep it classic with Mary Berry’s Victoria sandwich (from one queen to another), I hope I’ve persuaded you to venture a little further back in your baking cupboards for flavour inspiration. If a celebration cake is in order, mix things up with Ravneet Gill’s saffron and cardamom enriched ras malai cake and Claire Ptak’s chocolate bubble cake.
And me? Well, bunting and flag waving isn’t my usual style, but seven decades in any job is deserving of celebration, so I’ll be baking one of my favourite cakes over the long weekend – Battenburg. Reportedly conceptualised to honour Princess Victoria’s nuptials to Prince Louis of Battenberg, this cake is an icon of our supermarket shelves. While I would happily devour one straight off Mr Kipling’s production line, my version uses lemon zest and rose water to elevate the flavour profile and – pleasingly – imbue a little more meaning into those pink and yellow squares.
This recipe features in my new book, Postal Bakes, and is one of more than 60 recipes that can be packed up and posted anywhere in the country. This recipe makes three mini Battenburgs, so post two and keep one to truly have your cake and eat it.
Lemon and rose Battenburg cakes
180g butter, at room temperature
180g caster sugar
3 eggs
90g self-raising flour
90g ground almonds
1 tsp baking powder
½ tsp fine salt
Zest of ½ a lemon
1 tsp rose water
Dab of pink gel food colouring
750g white marzipan
200g apricot jam
Heat the oven to 170°C and line the tin with baking paper, including the sides. Cut a piece of foil the width of the tin, fold in half, then set like a tent in the centre of the tin – this is to create two separate sections in which to bake the two different sponges.
Place the butter and caster sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer, and cream until pale and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time, mixing until smooth after each addition, then add the flour, ground almonds, baking powder and salt and mix until just combined.
Decant half of the cake batter into a separate bowl. Add the lemon zest to the first bowl, and mix to combine. Add the rose water and a dab of food colouring to the second bowl and mix until the colour is even. Scrape both mixes into the tin – one in each side – spread into an even layer and level the surface, then bake for 20-25 minutes until a toothpick inserted into the centre of each sponge comes out clean. Allow to cool completely on a wire rack. The battenburgs are easier to cut and assemble the day after baking.
When you are ready to assemble the battenburgs, carefully trim the edges and surface of each cake so you have an even, sharp-edged rectangle. Check that both cakes are the same height, carefully levelling off the taller if needs be.
Measure the height of each sponge, then cut stripes in the same width lengthways – you should be able to get six strips of each colour, enough to make three individual battenburgs.
Assemble them one at a time, taking two stripes of each colour to make each cake. Roll out a third of the marzipan to just a few mm thick on a large sheet of clingfilm, working to get this approximately the same length as the cake strips. Warm the apricot jam in a pan. Using a pastry brush, brush a thin coating of jam on each of the long sides of each stripe of cake, then assemble in a two-up, two-down chequerboard arrangement.
Brush the rolled marzipan with jam, then carefully set the cake on top of it. Carefully use the cling film to roll the cake in marzipan, cutting away any significant excess and then wrapping the coated cake in the clingfilm. Reserve any marzipan that is not jammy or cakey to use on the other battenburgs. While the cake is wrapped, gently push the sides to ensure you maintain sharp edges and a square shape.
Place in the fridge to chill for a few hours, then discard the cling film and neatly slice each end to cut away any excess marzipan or uneven cake and create a sharp, chequerboard face to the cake.
Repeat to make the other two cakes.
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