Feeding a Crowd – Almost

After the previous day’s minor pound-cake-shortage fiasco, I was back in the kitchen measuring, mixing and stirring up a storm of pound cakes.

I wanted to do a different flavor from the day before; vanilla, whilst supremely tasty, was, well, a little “safe”. Ideas were bursting from my brain: lemon, lime, chocolate chunks, grated dark chocolate (for a speckled effect), walnuts, coconut, mango, pineapple even… But, a quick straw poll – or at least, the kids decided to take a spur-of-the-moment referendum amongst themselves – showed that orange was the flavor of choice (garnering 98% of the votes, or so I was told - hmmm… did I detect some vote-rigging going on there?). And so orange pound cake it was.

I used the exact same recipe as the day before, with just a few minor adjustments:

• The vanilla extract was left out this time around, and replaced with the finely grated zest of two medium oranges (about 3 teaspoons). [I added the grated zest to the sifted flour mixture and mixed it in well, so that it would be evenly dispersed through the cake batter.]

• About two tablespoons of buttermilk were removed from the half cup measure, and replaced with about 3 tablespoons of freshly squeezed orange juice. [I contemplated using more orange juice, but didn’t want to upset the dry and wet ingredients ratio too much; I also didn’t want to remove too much of the buttermilk, which was important for leavening and also absolutely key to the wonderful texture of the cake, given the already very low butter and eggs content.]

• The amount of sugar wasn’t reduced by very much. [I used a scant cupful, figuring that the acidity of the citrus would balance the sweetness out nicely this time around.]

• Instead of using the silicone bundt pan again, I opted for two 8”x4” loaf pans. [And discovered in the process that it took 1½ portions of batter to fill two loaf pans nicely. My initial single portion of batter produced two somewhat shallow cakes.]

• The cakes were baked at 170C (or what I presumed to be 170C on my Aunt’s oven) instead of 160C. The cakes were done in 40 minutes. [Actually, the color on the first batch of cakes was a little light; so we upped the temperature a teeny bit, and the subsequent batches turned out pretty good. That was probably at about 175-180C; but I’m guessing – I have no idea what number “7½” on my Aunt’s oven is in terms of temperature. It was literally a baking by trial-and-error experience! Certainly gives new meaning to the term “baking blind”!]

As expected, the cakes turned out very delicious. (Sorry, the pictures were of the very first batch, which was not as nice-looking as the subsequent batches. There was simply no chance to get a camera near the subsequent loaves that came out of the oven, as family members flooded through the kitchen door to claim their share of cake.)

The aromatic orange flavor was a hit, and I thought the visual effect of the little specks of orange zest speckled through the cake was lovely – all bright, cheery, citrusy and summery.

I adore this recipe for the texture of the cake – with its meltingly tender crumb, and soft, fluffy bite with just the right amount of denseness. Gorgeous!

We (yes, we… but more on that later) ended up making, oh, probably about 6 or 7 batches of the cake (with each batch being a 1½ portion of the recipe). But why split the batter-mixing into a laboriously long drawn out 6-7 stage affair, you ask? Well, the oven was rather small, and could only take two loaf pans at the most, at any one time, and I didn’t want the ready-mixed batter sitting out in the hot, humid kitchen for several hours, waiting its turn in the oven. Plus, the stand mixer wasn’t very big. So, as each session of cake went into the oven, we started up the next batch of batter. Phew! That was a lot of measuring and mixing for one day! And even then, strict food “rationing” was still in force – strictly one piece of cake per person, regardless of age! And I even had a whole battery of “food police” to help monitor the situation and make sure no one “cheated”!

Personally, by the second batch, I was dying to make the cake in a lemon or lime flavor (my Aunt’s lime bush, visible through the kitchen window, seemed to be calling my name); I just felt that the nice acidy tang of lemon or lime would make for a nicer, fuller and more rounded sweet-tart balance in the cake compared to the orange, which, though fragrantly citrusy, was a little sweet (my Aunt only buys very sweet eating oranges!). But sanity and pragmatism prevailed: making different batches of cake in different flavors was just asking for trouble. It was definitely not a good idea to spark another mad food scramble, like that of the previous day. Since we started with orange, so orange it would be for everyone. All’s fair in life and… food!

However, I did give some of the subsequent loaves a glaze, at the request of the children. For those who liked their pound cakes au naturel, there were the unglazed loaves. For the kids, they got a simple orange icing (sifted powdered sugar mixed with just enough freshly squeezed orange juice to get a nice glazing consistency). For the grown-ups with a sweet tooth, I added a glug of amaretto (I would have liked cointreau, but I just worked with whatever was made available to me) to the glaze; although some of the teenagers (and even some of the pre-teens) felt they were more than old enough to have “fortified” icing on their cake! It sounded a little strange, but it worked. Almonds and orange: who would have thought? For myself, I made up a nicely sweet-sour lime icing… and satisfied my craving to go out into the garden and pluck some fresh limes from that lime bush that had been smiling at and beckoning to me all afternoon!

And it was certainly an eventful afternoon. As it turned out, I became the de-facto “babysitter” of 13 kids (from toddlers to “tweens” – I believe that is the new, modern term for pre-teens ). The rest of the adults were clearly glad to have the bunch cleared from underfoot and kept gamely occupied for a few hours, so that they could get on with the zillion things that still needed to be done. The kids obviously had a whale of a time, “playing”… oops, sorry, I meant baking… with flour, eggs and cake batter. For almost all of them, it was their first time cooking and baking, and I think it was such a thrill and eye-opening, educational experience.

Well, I, too, learnt a thing or two that afternoon. For one, it’s just not in me to cook or bake for a large crowd on short notice – especially when all I have on hand are small family-sized kitchen equipment; and when I also have a “Board of Directors” made up of 13 highly vocal “bosses” to answer to, with questions and suggestions flying at me by the dozens; and who had energy enough for a group twice their numbers. By the end of the afternoon I had to go lie down in a darkened room, with a cool compress over my eyes and forehead, and with pure, unadulterated, blissful silence ringing in my ears. I was just thankful and relieved that the afternoon passed without incident – every child managed to keep their 10 fingers intact (none were lost to the whirling stand-mixer) and noses unburnt (despite persistently placing them way too near a burning hot glass oven door to peer at the cakes to make sure they were rising and cooking satisfactorily!). And we even managed to produce more than a dozen loaves of delicious orange pound cake along the way. How’s that for an afternoon’s work? Not bad, huh? But once is enough for me, thank you very much. Now, hand me my ear plugs, please…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Oh, and before I forget… Shirley this is for you. No, I haven’t forgotten your request, and yes, I thought of you as we baked the cakes. So, here is how I “wrap” the loaf tins with a damp towel to help the cakes rise evenly…

Wet thoroughly a small towel – any small tea or hand towel that you have on hand would be fine – and wring out the excess water. The towel should be nicely damp – not too wet nor too wrung out either.

Fold the towel lengthwise into three (or four, depending on the width of the towel and the height of the cake pan). It doesn’t have to be precise or neat… you may even choose, if the mood so strikes, to just scrunch up the towel to the height of the cake pan.

Place the cake pan on a baking sheet with a ledge. Wrap the towel around the cake pan, with the two ends of the towel starting and ending at the side, between the cake pan and the ledge of the baking sheet. The latter will help to hold the towel in place…

If necessary, use a pin to tack the two ends of the towel together. (But I have found it sufficient to just use the ledge of the baking sheet to hold the towel securely.)

A second loaf pan can also go on the same baking sheet, with another towel wrapped around it. Then, into the oven they go.

Here’s to evenly risen, level cakes!

Copyright © 2004 Renee Kho. All Rights Reserved.
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