In case you were wondering how or why I have been able to post more frequently this week, it’s because I have been on holiday. It’s only a week off from work so I didn’t make any plans to do much other than get reacquainted with my home kitchen and catch up with family and friends.

In a happy confluence of events, one of the friends I met up with this week generously offered me some kaffir limes and leaves. Being a rather dismal balcony gardener, I’m always thrilled (and frankly, in awe) when people offer me things they have successfully grown. Kaffir lime leaves are one of my favourite things to cook with. I usually throw the leaves, either shredded or left whole, into as many curries as I can muster for dinner. The limes, however, tend to leave me a little stumped.

At a place I once worked, our vegetable supplier gifted us with a large box of kaffir limes. Not knowing quite what to do with them, someone suggested a kaffir lime sorbet. After zesting and juicing every single lime in the box, I stirred in an appropriate volume of sugar syrup, tasted it and very quickly found out how unpleasant and bitter kaffir lime juice could be.

Naturally, the thing you next do when stuck with an unpalatable concoction is to deliberately leave it unattended on a counter top, to catch out some serial tasters. More than one inquisitive person fell victim to the lure of the bowl, dipping their finger in, hoping for something sweet, but discovering the complete opposite instead. Yes, it was an amusing day for everyone. Well, mostly me.

If you’re lucky enough to be at the receiving end of some fresh kaffir limes and leaves, make this lime syrup cake. But be warned, leave it unattended on a counter top at your own risk.

Kaffir lime syrup cake :
(based on a recipe from Mix & Bake by Belinda Jeffery)

50g plain flour
200g almond meal
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
4 eggs
170g sugar
250g unsalted butter, at room temperature, cut into large chunks
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
zest of 4 kaffir limes

Preheat the oven to 160’C. Butter and line a 20cm square cake tin.

Combine the flour, almond meal, baking powder and salt in a bowl. Set aside.

In a food processor, add the eggs and sugar and process for about 1 minute. Add the butter and process again to combine, then add the vanilla extract and lime zest, followed by the flour mixture. Pulse until the batter is just combined, stopping every now and then to scrape down the sides with a spatula.

Tip the batter into the prepared tin, smoothing it out evenly. Bake for about 1 hour or until a skewer inserted into the cake comes out clean.

Cool the cake in the tin before gently brushing the warm prepared syrup over the cake. You will only need 1/3 of the syrup made. The rest can be served alongside slices of the cake. Allow the cake to cool completely before slicing.

[Note: Remove the zest from the limes with a very fine grater like a Microplane, to avoid zesting any of the extra bitter white pith. If you don’t have kaffir limes, substitute with normal limes or lemon]

To make the syrup :

120g sugar
125g lime juice
250g water
kaffir lime leaves (as much or as little as you want, depending on how strong you wish the flavour to be. I used about 20 small leaves, branch and all)

Put the sugar, lime juice, lime leaves and water into a pot. Bring to boil, stirring. Once boiled, turn the heat down to a simmer and allow to reduce for 10 minutes or until it looks more syrupy.

My favourite baking pan is not some third generation heirloom treasure but a ten dollar bargain I once purchased from the department store. As with most things, time will eventually allow that attractive patina of age to settle into it’s spring form frame. In the meanwhile, I’m rather enjoying the fact that nothing whatsoever sticks to it. Not even a batter, sticky with threads of sugary beetroot or slightly singed and caramelised raisins.

I baked this cake a few days ago and several days later, only a small slab of it remains on the kitchen counter. Testament to our greed and the cake’s deliciousness. The recipe is based on Joanne Chang’s classic carrot cake recipe from Flour. If you don’t like beetroot, make it with carrot, and be sure to make it in your favourite baking pan.

Beetroot cake with cream cheese frosting :

2 eggs
200g light brown sugar
150g vegetable oil
3 tablespoons yogurt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
160g plain flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
260g peeled and grated raw beetroot
80g raisins

Preheat the oven to 175’C. Butter and flour an 8-inch cake pan.

In a small bowl, sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon and ginger.

In a stand mixer, whisk the eggs and brown sugar for about 3 to 4 minutes until light and thick. In a small jug, whisk together the oil, yogurt and vanilla. Slowly pour the oil mixture into the egg mixture, mixing on low speed.

Fold the flour mixture into the egg mixture, until just incorporated, then fold in the grated beetroot and raisins. Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan and bake for about 1 hour, or until a skewer inserted into the cake comes out clean. Allow the cake to cool completely on a wire rack before removing it from the pan and covering it in frosting.

For the cream cheese frosting :

250g cream cheese, at room temperature
80g unsalted butter, at room temperature
150g icing sugar, sifted
pinch of salt

Place the cream cheese, butter, icing sugar and salt in a bowl of a mixer. Beat well until smooth and creamy. Set aside until ready to be used.

This is going to be one of those times.

A time when you find yourself faced with someone enthusiastically insisting you simply must try what could possibly be as pedestrian or as bizarre as :

1) chocolate and bacon.. in a milkshake
2) avocado as a secret ingredient in perfect mashed potato
3) yet another chocolate chip cookie recipe

and you find yourself politely nodding and agreeing, swearing in butter and sugar that you will definitely bookmark the recipe to try soon. But inside you’re really thinking, what does she know! She :

a) is vegan
b) eats muesli for breakfast, for goodness sake!
c) uses the words ‘Wonderful!’ and ‘amazing’ too often.

Well, guilty as charged, I’m afraid. Maybe I had cake for breakfast this morning and perhaps it’s the sugar high talking, but freshly toasted parsnip cake, really is amazing and wonderful and totally worth succumbing to every cliche to share.

To further feed the cliche, creating cake of a parsnip inclination turns out to be as simple as taking your favourite banana bread or cake recipe and substituting an equal amount of mashed parsnip for the banana component. Here I’ve used a recipe from Flour by Joanne Chang. Include other flavours if you wish. Walnuts are a suitable match, as well as coffee essence. Then if possible, wait until the very next day to toast thick slices of the cake and serve with a flourish of honey or maple syrup. I used pine cone bud syrup because I foolishly bought a rather pricey bottle of it while on holiday once and have been struggling to use it in a meaningful way. Parsnip cake turns out to be one such way.

Parsnip and cocoa nib cake :
(based on a recipe in Flour by Joanne Chang)

210g plain flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
230g sugar
2 eggs
50g melted butter
50g vegetable oil
about 340g of cooked parsnip puree [should be the same consistency as mashed banana]
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons plain yogurt
2 tablespoons cocoa nibs

Preheat oven to 160’C. Butter a 9 x 5 inch loaf pan.

In a bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda and salt. Set aside.

With an electric mixer, whisk the sugar and eggs until very light and fluffy. On low speed, slowly drizzle in the oil and melted butter. Mix in the parsnip puree, yogurt and vanilla until just combined. Fold in the flour mixture and cocoa nibs. Pour the batter into the loaf pan and bake for about 1 hour. The top of the cake should be well browned and spring back when pressed lightly.

Cool completely before removing from tin. This cake can be eaten straight away but is even better the next day, when sliced thickly and toasted.