A decade or so ago, I met and befriended an investment banker who frequented the sandwich shop I worked at. My job was a short-lived part time distraction I loved, which earned me a bit of spending money while I was still studying. His was a boring job, earning obscene amounts of money (his words) and he looked the part to boot. Very Mad Men, now that I think about it. Complete with grey fedora.

We hung out a few times and he spoke wistfully of wanting to travel around the country. One day, he paid for his sandwich and said that he wasn’t going to be back as he had quit his job to chase a dream. We didn’t keep in touch which was a shame, because I still wonder if he’s living his dream. If I met him again, I’d also like to tell him that I’m managing to slowly chase mine.

I never did like studying much. Perhaps it was because my parents placed so much emphasis on it as a sign of success. School, piano lessons, violin lessons, computer classes. None of it seems to amount to what I enjoy doing now, but I don’t regret any of it. Doing what you don’t like sometimes leads to the discovery of what you do like. After I graduated from University, I approached a few restaurants looking for a job and finally someone did give me a break. There have been many ups and downs since but I’m still making things with my hands, still feeding people and hopefully bringing smiles to faces.

Life before cake was happy and sweet. Life after cake is just as good. But with cake.

Wheat-free lemon poppyseed cake :
(based on a recipe in Flour by Joanne Chang)

120g brown rice flour
120g barley flour
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon xanthan gum
150g unsalted butter, melted
60g cream (35% fat)
3 tablespoons finely grated lemon zest
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
3 tablespoons poppy seeds
4 eggs
220g caster sugar

Preheat the oven to 175’C. Line a 9 x 5 inch loaf pan with baking paper.

Sift the flours, baking powder, xanthan gum and salt together.

In another bowl, combine the melted butter, cream, lemon zest, juice and poppyseeds.

In a stand mixer, whisk the eggs and caster sugar on medium speed for about 5 minutes or until light and fluffy. Fold in the flour mixture, then the butter mixture, until combined. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 1 hour or until the cake is golden brown and a skewer inserted into the cake comes out clean. Allow the cake to cool slightly before glazing the still-warm cake with a lemon icing.

For the glaze, mix 70g icing sugar with 1 to 2 tablespoons of lemon juice and spread it over the cake.

My love affair with skillet cakes began a long time ago, when B and I used to make apple pancakes on a regular basis. The recipe for those pancakes originated from a newspaper cutting that has since been misplaced and is still dearly missed. My attempts to recreate the recipe have so far failed. Or maybe whatever we make now will never taste the same because we were younger then and more inexperienced in the kitchen, and it was a wonder to be able to combine shredded green apples with cinnamon, a pat of butter and a leavened batter to yield a large fluffy pancake which we proceeded to devour with vanilla ice-cream.

But as it turns out, I still have the capability to be in awe of how simple but soul-satisfying pancakes can be. If you’re in need of a boosted start to the day, I can’t recommend pancakes highly enough. I’m quite fickle when it comes to pancakes. Sometimes I like them thick and fluffy. Other times, I prefer them thin, drizzled with lemon juice and sugar, then rolled up and eaten without cutlery.

This week, I resuscitated my long forgotten omelette pan from the depths of the pot drawer, to whip up some sourdough pancakes and other skillet cakes. Of all the recipes I’ve been trying out, this gluten-free prune and buckwheat skillet cake is probably the most unusual. It is worthy of an attempt by anyone reading this because I think it has great potential to be tweaked according to your own tastes. To my surprise when I first saw this recipe, the cake contains no added sugar apart from the mere tablespoon of honey, and no butter or oil either. The sweetness contributed by the prunes is amazingly all the cake needs to make it the perfect accompaniment to a cup of tea, when you’re craving something that’s not loaded with sugar. That is, as long as you don’t proceed to ruin things by pouring over a hearty dose of maple caramel sauce. That was just me trying (and failing) to resist the temptation to dessert-ify my breakfast.

Pain aux Pruneaux :
(from Home Baking by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid)

1 cup pitted prunes
1/2 cup cognac or Armagnac
1 tablespoon honey, heated until runny
2 large eggs
1 1/4 cups light buckwheat flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 cup whole milk

Chop the prunes into 2 or 3 pieces each. Soak them in the cognac for 8 to 24 hours.

Place a baking stone or unglazed quarry tiles, if you have them (or a heavy baking sheet) on a rack in the lower third of the oven and preheat the oven to 190’C. Butter a 9-inch cast-iron or other heavy ovenproof skillet.

Whisk the honey and eggs together in a medium bowl until tripled in volume. In a small bowl, mix together the flour, salt, and pepper. Stir 1/3 cup of the flour into the egg mixture, then stir in 1/3 cup of the milk. Repeat, alternating until all the flour and milk have been stirred in. Fold in the prunes and any remaining cognac.

Pour the batter into the skillet. Bake for 20 minutes, or until a faint line of brown forms around the edges of the cake and the cake is starting to pull away from the sides of the skillet. There will be small bubbles or holes on the surface.

Remove from the oven and let cool for 10 or more minutes before serving. The top surface of the cake will be tacky, but the crumb will be firm and spongy. Serve from the skillet, or flip onto a plate.

When life gives you quinces, make quince crumble cake.

It is for those days that rush by too fast. When seasons turn from singlet tops and insects thumping angrily at the screen door, to leaves tumbling onto wet pavements, the scent of wool scarves, the whirr of the stand mixer, the hum of the oven, and suddenly.. quince crumble cake.

It is also for one of those days. We’ve all had them. Usually a cup of tea, a heat pack around my neck and a little grumble to B, sets things straight. Failing that, I call upon ‘the army’.

There are millions of recipes out there for all sorts of simple cakes and breads. I guess the ones I use are no different, but they are so reliable and so delicious that I now consider them part of my personal army. My army battles against such days that defeat and exhaust. I’ve been experiencing many such days recently, and have gratefully discovered that it’s quite soothing to be able to make something simple not only for myself, but to share with others as well.

The quince crumble cake is my version of Rose Levy Beranbaum’s “apple-cinnamon crumb coffee cake”. I substituted some ingredients and modified the instructions, to simplify the cobbling together of the cake batter. Using my method, the fruit will sink into the cake but I’m okay with that. The heap of crumble on top is a textural delight.

The soda bread recipe, which has now become my daily bread, is by Fergus Henderson. No changes there; it’s as simple as it gets. The (gluten-free) chocolate chestnut cake is from Nigella Lawson’s How to be a Domestic Goddess.

Below are two of the recipes that I hope will find a home within your own army.

Quince and Walnut Crumble Cake :

For the cinnamon crumble :
100g walnut halves
72g light brown sugar
25g caster sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
65g plain flour
57g unsalted butter, melted

Place all the dry ingredients in a bowl. Add the butter and rub it in or toss through to form a crumbly mixture (use your fingers to break any of the larger pieces of walnut into smaller chunks). Set aside.

For the cake :

6 quinces halves, slow cooked in a 60% sugar syrup solution flavoured with vanilla, lemon zest and cinnamon, drained and sliced or chopped into small chunks (or fresh fruit of choice)
2 large eggs, at room temperature
100g + 60g Greek/European-style yogurt
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
200g plain flour
170g caster sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
170g unsalted butter, softened

Preheat the oven to 175’C.

In a small bowl, combine the eggs, 60g yogurt and vanilla.

In a stand mixer fitted with the flat beater, add the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add the butter and 100g yogurt. Mix on low until dry ingredients are moistened, then mix on medium speed for 1 1/2 minutes. Lower the speed and gradually add the egg mixture. Scrape down the sides of the bowl then beat for 30 seconds to fully incorporate all the ingredients.

Spread the batter into a greased and lined 22cm tin. Top with slices of the cooked quince, then the crumble. Bake for about 50 – 60 minutes. A skewer inserted into the cake should come out clean. At about the 30 minute mark, you may want to rotate the cake pan for even browning. At this point if the crumble appears to be browning too quickly, you can also cover the top of the pan with some foil and continue baking.

Soda Bread :
(From Beyond Nose to Tail by Fergus Henderson and Justin Piers Gellatly)

140g wholemeal self-raising flour
140g strong white flour
5g sea salt
10g caster sugar
5g baking powder
125ml water
125ml buttermilk

Mix all the ingredients together by hand in a large mixing bowl (it will be quite wet), then leave the dough to rest in the bowl for 5 minutes.

Shape the dough into a ball and place on a floured baking tray. Sprinkle with flour and cut a cross in the top about 4cm long on each side and 1cm deep. Leave to rest for 10 minutes, then place in an oven preheated to 200’C. Bake for 40 minutes, until golden brown. To test if the loaf is done, turn it over and tap it on the bottom with your finger; if it sounds hollow it is ready. Leave to cool on a wire rack. Serve with plenty of butter.