This morning I woke up and threw open the balcony door. The sky was clear and the day smelled so crisp and sweet. A sweetness you get just before the belching buses, the bronchial leaf blowers and other excesses of modern life choke the very air from underneath your nose.

Over grain bread, slices of Morbier, and Marilynne Robinson’s Gilead, I thought about the life I lead and the strange serenity you sometimes feel even in the midst of so much chaos and noise. I thought about the funny things we do to ourselves, and each other. About the darkness that the fragile notion of society and civilisation supresses within us.

I thought about all that, and decided that, today, I wanted to make something and someone happy.

These lemon pebble cupcakes are for a very close friend who recently celebrated her 30th birthday. She had a big bash up in the mountains, but I didn’t go because I was working. (I’m a pretty bad friend, aren’t I?). I’ve never been too sure about the whole notion of best friends (or even soul mates, for that matter) – to use the term makes me feel like I’m back in primary school again, so I never use it. But Mel is one of my favourite friends, so I wanted to make her something a little special. The cupcakes and frosting are made with Lindt white chocolate, which she loves.

Due to their chocolate content, I will be winging the remaining cakes to Stephanie for her chocolate themed blog party. At the moment, I can’t tell you what beverage to have with these cakes, I’m afraid, because I’m including a surprise something in Mel’s gift bag, to have with her cakes. 🙂

We have a ridiculous amount of ginger related products in our kitchen at the moment. Every time I opened the pantry cupboard, I can’t help but laugh at the sight of packets of gingersnaps, chewy ginger biscuits, ginger tablets, candied ginger, crystallised ginger and ground ginger.

Most of it was purchased recently by B who had bought himself a Playstation 3 for his birthday and then discovered that one of the games caused him to suffer from motion sickness. I used to feel nauseous as well when playing Doom and Heretic. Gosh, remember those classic games? I had a conversation with someone about games a couple of months ago, and was surprised that he didn’t know what Doom was. Ah heck, now I’m really showing my age, aren’t I!

Anyway, B read that eating ginger is apparently a natural way of reducing nausea, and subsequently went out and bought what seems to be every conceivable ginger product available – excepting ginger beer, which he categorically doesn’t like. Funnily enough, he has barely touched any of his purchases, which means the task has been left to me to expand my waistline by plowing through the biscuits and candied ginger (which I absolutely love).

Which is why I’ve also been inspired to contribute to our ginger tally with this spice cake by Michel Bras. His recipe (below) doesn’t contain any ginger, but in the spirit of things, I altered it slightly to include candied ginger as well as ground ginger.

As soon as this cake came out of the oven, I made myself a cup of tea and sampled a slice. It was wonderfully spicy and not very sweet. Michel Bras calls it a “quiet pleasure, a relaxation, a special moment, with a taste of spices that carry you away to a sunny land”. A heart-warming and very apt description indeed!

Ginger and Le Pain aux Epices is my contribution to this week’s WHB, hosted by Joanna of Joanna’s Food.

Le Pain aux Epices :
(from The Notebooks of Michel Bras, by Michel Bras)

100g honey
100g sugar
75g butter
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons water
30g candied orange peels
4 orange zests
4 lemon zests
110g rye flour
110g flour
20g baking soda
1 teaspoon (3g) anise seed
18g cinnamon
9g nutmeg
2g cloves
45g slivered almonds

Grind the cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves

In a saucepan, combine the honey, sugar, butter and water. Melt over low heat. Let cool and set aside.

Mince the candied orange peels and the zests. Then, mix with a little flour.

In a bowl, mix flour, baking soda, powdered spices, and anise seed. Add the minced peels and zest. Gradually add the honey mixture. Beat for 10 minutes. Add the almonds.

Butter a 22cm aluminium pan and dust with flour. Fill it with batter, cover with a baking sheet, and bake for 10 minutes in preheated 160’C oven. Remove the baking sheet and continue to bake 45 to 60 minutes at 150’C. During baking, when the cake begins to form a crust, make a 1cm lengthwise cut to help the cake develop more fully. Insert a skewer to check that the cake is done.

As soon as it comes out of the oven take it out of the pan and let cool on a rack. At this point, the cake will freeze well.

I’ve never been very good at having a measured, balanced existence. For example, I have a bad habit of letting work take over my life. Sometimes I get so deeply involved in my job that it automatically takes precedence over anything else I should also be doing. This week I hadn’t given myself enough time to plan ahead for B’s birthday which fell on Tuesday. On the day, I got home late from work and we celebrated with microwaved soup, a replay of the Netherlands vs Italy Euro Cup match, and much later, a piece of chocolate cake that Calamari had made for B. Not really how it should have all panned out, I’m afraid!

So I’m trying to make up for my lack of celebratory gestures with a little gift. Chocolate is one of B’s favourite flavours essential food groups. Whenever we eat out, I don’t even bother looking at the chocolate option on the dessert menu, because I know he’ll order it anyway (unless it’s freakishly overloaded with all sorts of unfriendly dairy products). These cupcakes which I’m calling Textures of Chocolate Cupcakes, feature chocolate in various forms : cake, ganache, cocoa nib brownie cookie, salted chocolate caramel and crunchy chocolate soil. If you can manage one bite to encompass all the different components, you will hopefully experience the sensation of silky, moist, moussey, crumbly, crispy, crunchy, melting, creamy, goey and chewy textures all at once. But each component tastes good on it’s own too. The chocolate cake is by Rose Levy Berenbaum and is one of my favourites. Rose’s mother describes it as tasting just like a chocolate bar. Which can hardly be a bad thing, can it!

Happy belated Birthday, B! 🙂