I had no idea how to keep a home. I didn’t know the rules about throw pillows or how frequently you should wash your sheets. Despite framing prints I found at HomeGoods and hanging them on the wall, I still felt like I was playing house; a mere teenager raising babies and blindly ordering duvet covers.
As I scrambled through the day-to-day I began to sauté and stew, and that made me feel like I was doing something right, even if the dish ended up wrong. I considered that maybe this is the way I could grow up. My home would never look like those glossed pages of Pottery Barn, I’d probably never order a sconce (what was a sconce?), but I could care for people through food.
Make them feel welcome and loved. Could a perfectly placed throw pillow do that?
During this discovery I found a blog called Orangette, authored by Molly Wizenberg, who I followed with feverish enthusiasm. She was far more experienced than I but the way she put together recipes and stories made me feel like I could tackle anything in the kitchen.
She later published a book called A Homemade Life, which I bought and read and cooked, cover to cover. Much the same way I hope you do when I publish my memoir.
Unassumingly placed in the latter half of the book is a recipe for French lemon cake. I had never attempted a homemade cake but it felt like something only an adult could do. I didn’t know this at the time, but the French have two kinds of food — either exceedingly complicated and filled with daunting technique, or absolutely the most simple combinations of fresh flavors.
This cake falls into the latter category.
I have baked it approximately 47 times and it never fails. It’s the kind of cake that is perfect for a casual gathering that requires a dessert but a triple tiered frosted confection seems like overkill. It’s understated, though I have been known to garnish it with a couple thin lemon slices.
I have gifted it to friends in gratitude, celebration and sorrow. A slice is also perfect with a cup of tea. It can be walked to a block party or pot luck and go completely unnoticed on the table of rice krispie treats and m&m cookies. Unnoticed, that is, until the first person slices through the thin crust of glaze, down into the tender crumb, and places a small pale yellow triangle on their plate.
They will take a bite and rush to find the creator and ask for the recipe. This happens every time.
Most recently, on Mother’s Day my kids ate the whole cake. Like, obsessively devoured the whole thing. All while muttering things like, “ugh, I love when you make this” as crumbs tumbled out of their mouths. At one point, I heard someone say, “I can’t wait to eat this for breakfast” but as I observed the rapidly shrinking circle, I knew no one was having cake for breakfast.
Though the original is lemon flavored, the product is just as successful with lime or grapefruit. On Mother’s Day, I only found low-fat yogurt in my refrigerator. And if there’s one thing I can’t tolerate, it’s low-fat dairy in baked goods. So, I used the rest of my container of sour cream and I think we all agreed that it was as good if not better than the original. I am passing that recipe on to you as I think it’s the best version of the cake. But, know you can swap the sour cream for yogurt, as the French do, and the lime for any citrus you like.
I still don’t know what a dust ruffle is but these days, I don’t care. Instead, I’ve created my own definition of domesticity and am content to show my love through a perfect slice of lemon cake.
“But First, Food” columnist Whitney Kling is a recipe developer who lives in Southwest Ohio with her four kids, two cats and a food memoir that’s ever-nearing completion. If she’s not playing tennis or at a yoga class, she’s in the kitchen creating something totally addictive — and usually writing about it.
RECIPE: FRENCH CITRUS CAKE
The internet abounds with recipes for this cake, most frequently called GÂteau au citron. It’s a French staple for casual at-home desserting. So, I’m by no means claiming this recipe as my own, as much as making you aware of its existence. And once you’ve tried it, you will thank me for that. This particular version is inspired by the recipe in A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg, who I owe partial credit to for helping me find my place in the kitchen.
Cake
1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
2 t baking powder
½ t salt
3 t grated lime zest
½ cup sour cream
1 cup sugar
3 large eggs
½ cup vegetable oil
Glaze
3 T lime juice
1 cup powdered sugar, sifted
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Coat a 9 inch cake pan with cooking spray and line with parchment paper.
In a bowl whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, and lime zest. In a larger bowl stir together the sour cream, sugar, and eggs. Gently stir the flour mixture into the wet ingredients, until just combined. Add the oil and stir until combined and mixture is smooth (this takes a moment, just be gentle and patient).
Pour batter into prepared pan and bake for 25-30 minutes.
Remove cake from pan and let cool completely on a wire rack. Whisk together lime juice and powdered sugar and pour over cooled cake, letting the glaze drip down the sides. Let the glaze set for 20 minutes, slice and serve.
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