Strawberries and Cream... and Oranges

Ah, late spring and early summer... the best time of year for food.  The weather is warm, the sun is brilliant, produce is bright and colorful again after the dull colors of winter, berries are in season and available for infinite uses, and seasonal dishes are light, crisp, and refreshing.  The cake recipes from the past two weeks fit excellently into this time of year.

Two weeks ago, the cake recipe was a Strawberries and Cream Shortcake.  I was visiting Randy for Princeton's Reunion Weekend.  Imagine slightly to highly intoxicated old people wandering between white tents with makeshift bars and cover bands sprawled over the perfectly manicured lawns of the architecturally stunning campus of Princeton University, and that's pretty much reunion weekend.  Barbecues, bands, and beers.  Among the other festivities, we were to attend two barbecues in one day, so I made this cake to take to one.  (Side note: I remade the Tres Leches cake for the other, and doubled the recipe and used a 9x13 pan.  Upon eating it again, I fully realized the extent of its greatest.  It's in the top 10 from this project.  Maybe the top 5.  And it was quite the conversation starter... it made a good impression on Randy's boss and labmates, who I was meeting for the first time.  Thank you, Tres Leches.)

WAAAAYYY back at the beginning of this whole adventure, I had to make a raspberry shortcake, and it was the saddest, most disappointing-looking cake ever.  I couldn't split the cake in half evenly, I didn't have enough raspberries, and my frosting skills were sub-par.  So I was a bit nervous about making this cake for a bunch of people I'd never met.  But surprisingly... it came out beautifully.  I was so proud of how pretty it was... a true sign of how far my cake-making skills have advanced during this process.  While admiring the finished product, I didn't really care how it tasted, because gosh darn it, it looked impressive.  It received lots of compliments at the party as well.  If cakes could be vain, I know this one would have had an ego the size of Texas.

As for taste, however, I think it was kind of a let-down.  When people think of strawberry shortcake, they think of those weird spongy cakes with dents in the middle that you buy and throw some sliced strawberries and canned whipped cream (or Cool Whip... *shudder*) on top of.  But this cake was legitimate short cake, similar in texture to short bread, and the whipped cream was just barely sweetened, resulting in a denser, less sweet cake than expected.  But considering this cake as an independent entity, I think it's actually quite good... there's a great contrast in textures between the crumbly cake, the airy whipped cream, and the juicy berries, and it's light and refreshing, perfect on a hot day after burgers and beer.  It just didn't go over quite as well as I'd hoped.  I think it deserves a second chance at some point, though.  I personally enjoy it more than those cake sponges, and its a great use for strawberries when they're in season.

Last week's cake actually began as a fictitious cake.  It was an integral part in The Mitford Years Series, by Jan Karon, which means little to me.  Perhaps I should read them.  Regardless... the author created a character, named Esther Bolick, famous for baking cakes, and dreamed this cake into existence as the baker's specialty.  Apparently, many readers wrote to the author asking for the recipe, and she had to explain that it wasn't a real cake.  Finally, she gave in and collaborated with the authors of The Gift of Southern Cooking (hint: that would make a great birthday gift...) to make the imaginary cake a reality.  And so, the Orange Marmalade Cake was born.

Dr. Robinson notes, "It required almost every bowl I own, but it was so worth it."  That is pure fact.  Three layers, a filling, and a frosting... my kitchen looked like a battle ground when all was said and done.  But despite its many pieces, the cake is actually not too complicated, and it is, indeed, well worth it.  Dr. R also comments that "this cake is so pretty and cheerful that it is hope itself."  I'd have to agree with that as well.  It's beautiful when assembled, and it's so fresh and citrusy and bright, you can't help but feel warm and happy after your first bite.  This cake is definitely a top 5.  It has claimed a permanent spot in my regular repertoire.

I shared my first bites with Tim, Maureen, and Chris after a minor nervous breakdown at work.  Assembling and frosting the cake had been therapeutic and calming, and sharing it with friends lifted my spirits.  I brought the rest to work today.  We've all been having a pretty rough go of it lately, and the abysmally gloomy weather has done nothing for our moods, so cake seemed almost a necessity, and this one was particularly fitting... it brought a little sunshine into the overcast day and the overcast atmosphere in our lab.  It was well-received.  I love big cakes like this because there's so much that I can spread the joy beyond my own lab.  One of the PIs in my hall actually asked me if it was the cake from the Mitford books.  I was so amazed that someone knew the legend of the cake, and so excited that she recognized it by taste.  Maybe I am becoming a real-life Esther Bolick.  It's a position I would gladly accept.