This cake involved less work up front than the carrot cake did, by far.  Just some lemon zesting and juicing (1 -- I'm really wearing down my Microplane and 2 -- note to self:  lemon reamer!)  and grinding of a few more almonds (had some left from yesterday).  It was also a little hard to find poppy seeds, strangely enough.  Regular suburban grocery store and fancy gourmet shop had none, but I ended up finding them in a little neighborhood market.  

I don't have an 8" round pan, and after the too-small pan mishap with the carrot cake, I overcompensated and went with  bigger pan.  Much bigger.  Too big, in fact.  9.5" round springform big.  I lined my pan with wax paper (more on this later, ha) and buttered.  Poured in batter and set my timer for 30 minutes instead of the alloted 40.  My cake looked much lower in the pan, and I figured it would be done much sooner.

A couple of minutes pass after the cake went in the oven, and I notice smoke coming from the stove burners.  What?  How could my cake possibly be on fire?  I open the oven and waxy smelling smoke drifted out.  But I did what it said!  Well, not quite.  I put a sheet of waxed paper on the bottom of the pan and closed the springform over it, leaving some hanging out on the sides.  I figured it was safe to put in the oven since it said so in the cookbook.  More smoke.  In a panic, I Google "wax paper in oven" and get the very helpful Reynolds Wrap FAQ, which says you can put waxed paper in the oven, but only if it's touching the pan or a food item.  Oops.  I pulled the pan out of the oven and quickly trimmed off the excess waxed paper.  Hee hee.

The 30 minute buzzer went off, and as I suspected, my cake was done.  I let it cool on a rack, and then poured the syrup over.  After a while, I took the springform off, and my cake was much flatter than Jamie's.  (But I think that's just because I used a bigger pan.)  I made the icing and poured it over the cake.  It oozed over the sides and all over the plate.  Not pretty.  Then I remembered that I probably should have taken the cake off the waxed paper and the pan base, so (with runny frosting getting everywhere) I picked the cake up off the base with spatulas, peeled off the now-soaked-with-lemon-syrup waxed paper, and replaced it on the serving dish.  

We got to dig into the cake yesterday at the student party.  It's very tart because of all that lemon, and crunchy from the almonds and poppy seeds. (I think that's really all they add -- do poppy seeds taste like anything?)  My glaze didn't get all solid and white like Jamie's did in the photo, and I'm not sure why that happened.  Not enough sugar, perhaps?  It's still not white, even after some time in the fridge.  The syrup makes it very moist, and his suggestion of ice cream is probably a good one.  

I think these two cake recipes turned out well, considering.  I prefer more accurate baking recipes -- it's chemistry, after all, and the cakes that turn out the best are the ones that have weighed measurements.  The consistency of the directions leaves a little to be desired (in the same recipe there's a quantity of 7 tablespoons of lemon juice, then right below it is one for the juice of 1 lemon -- it would make more sense to measure things in the same way, no?) and n the future I would make the lemon cake as a loaf and the carrot cake in my big springform.  I think they'd turn out much better that way.  


It's off to the grocery store today (cat's almost out of food) so I've chosen this week's 3:


Oozy Egg Ravioli (this requires making fresh pasta and sealing an egg yolk in it, so I'm either brave or stupid, and I will again be halving the recipe, since nobody needs to eat 6 yolks in one sitting);
Chicken Breast with Pancetta, Leeks and Thyme (an easy-peasy one, to make up for the ravioli);
Basic Meringue (to use up the egg whites that I don't use in the ravioli filling).

I don't anticipate having any problem with the ingredients, but I'll probably swap regular bacon for the pancetta since I don't think our Whole Foods has it (and the picture looks like streaky bacon anyway).  


Gee whiz, ekelur -- that top photo looks like a cake in a loaf pan, but that bottom one is suspiciously round.  Did frosting the cake somehow cause it to become re-shaped?


Well, yes and no.  As I suspected, the 50 minutes was nowhere near enough time.  The timer went off, and the cake still jiggled when I moved the rack.  Not a good sign.  I put it back for another 15 minutes.  Poke.  Still not done, but improving.  Another 10 minutes.  This time the skewer came back clean.  I took it out, and set the timer for 15 minutes to allow for pre-dramatic pan removal cooling.  However, I was not optimistic about my chances of getting this cake out of this pan.

15 minutes are up, and I turn over the pan.  Nothing.  I run a knife around the edges that seem to have welded themselves on.  This time the whole top of the cake sheared off.  Uh-oh.  I gently replaced it, and waited a while for it to cool completely.  

A while passes, and I try again.  Half the cake falls out onto my block.  Ugh.  Whatever am I to do?  How am I going to serve this to people, let alone frost it?  I know they're only college students, but I have a rep to protect.  Think, Gipsy, think.  Wait, I know!  Trifle!  How British is that!  I'll take the cake out of the pan in chunks, put it in a serving dish, and frost that!  That'll work!  (And eliminate the nasty problem of slicing and serving cake.  Spoon!)  *hunts for appropriate serving vessel*  Ah-ha!  Old glass pie pan!  Fabulous!  I scooped the cake from the mean old loaf pan and smushed it into the pie dish, then put it in the freezer to set up a little while I made the icing.

So, this impossible-to-find mascarpone -- what the heck is it?  It's called cheese, but it tastes like a cross between butter and cream.  I was reminded of the fluffy middle in tiramisu.  I mixed my 4 oz (half the container) with the block of cream cheese and the cup of powdered sugar.  Then 2 limes, zested and juiced.  Mix, and...runny lumpy icing.  Yuck.  I add the rest of the mascarpone and about 3/4 cup more sugar.  Still lumpy.  I get out the hand mixer.  That cures the lumps right quick.  Cover the cake, and save a blob for my sample piece. (The re-panning also eliminates the issue of being able to try some before serving -- no one will be the wiser as to my pilfered cake chunk, and besides, it didn't fit anyway.  Yeah, that's the ticket...)

The cake itself is very moist and spicy.  It would also be good with raisins.  You could serve it on its own, without the icing.  The icing itself is a nice take on cream cheese icing, which is usually either too creamy, too buttery, or too sweet.  The mascarpone thins out the cream cheese better than butter would, because it's not so rich.  And the lime adds a refreshing bite.  I think you have to be careful with your cake-to-frosting ration, since the lime can overpower the carrot.  But it's a unique combination, and I think anyone who tries it will be pleasantly surprised.  If they can get it out of the pan.

All in all, a good ending, but not such a great recipe.  I tend not to trust cake recipes written by non-bakers, and this is the reason why.  I usually don't have problems getting cakes to come out of pans, but then I usually don't have an overfilled pan.  So that wasn't such a great recommendation -- I don't think the recommended 8x8 would have worked either, so if I made this again, I would use a 9x13 or a larger springform pan.  I also think there needs to be a note letting people know they might have to adjust the amount of liquid in the frosting.  I don't think the limes I used were particularly large, but I ended up with a very runny icing before I adjusted.  I would make it again, but I'm not throwing out my Grandma's recipe from the Antigo Peace Lutheran Church cookbook.

I never thought it would be so difficult to get mascarpone cheese, especially with the frequency it gets used on Food TV.  I live in Philadelphia, home to a huge Italian food contingent, so it should be everywhere, right?  Wrong.  I know of one grocery store that carries it (Wegmans, and that's in New Jersey).  I ended up buying mine at DiBruno's, the Undisputed King Of Cheeses (sorry, Mario).  This recipe calls for self-rising flour, which I don't usually have hanging around.  I also had to do a lot of prep for this.  A lot.  Almonds don't come ground, and carrots don't grate themselves.  I picked up a food processor on Amazon for this (I didn't have one before, and it's one of those kitchen appliances that you should probably have).  Zested and juiced orange, check.  Grated ginger, check.  Separated eggs, check.  Softened butter, check.  As fast as the pasta was, this was going to take a looooooooong time.


Butter and brown sugar in Kitchen Aid bowl (you could probably do this by hand or with a hand mixer, but you don't take cake decorating without your KA -- royal icing laughs at hand mixer motors), I did notice a confusing instruction.  The book says to mix "until pale."  It's brown sugar. How pale is it going to get?  My other pre-measured ingredients went in smoothly, and I had a rather tasty batter on my hands, which I poured into my greased loaf pan.  I used that size because that's what Jamie uses in the picture, and I don't have an 8x8 right now.  It looked awfully full.  

Cut to 10 minutes later in the oven.  My cake was bordering on overflowing.  I don't know what sizes loaf pans come in over in England, but mine was obviously the wrong one.  I managed (with help) to get a sheet of aluminum foil under the pan to catch any drips.  A little spilled during the move, and taste tests indicate a rather pleasing cake to be on the way.  I'll probably leave it in the oven longer than 50 minutes to make up for the heat I lost during the pan move (and I doubt a cake that thick will be done in that time anyway).  The apartment smells really nice, so I'm anticipating a good turnout, if it recovers from the smallish pan.  Stay tuned...


One of the reasons I'm fond of Jamie's recipes is that after one or two tries, you don't need them anymore.  A favorite of mine is his Chickpea, Leek and Potato soup, from The Naked Chef.  Coupla leeks, a few potatoes (I use Yukon Gold so I don't have to pre-boil or peel), a can of chickpeas, and a box of chicken stock.  Poof!  Instant soup!  And really good soup, at that.  I was hoping this would become one of those quick-from-the-pantry recipes, because the spaghetti with jarred sauce option can be really lame (and honestly, if that's the choice, we usually end up ordering pizza).   I halved the recipe, because I only had 1 jar of tuna, and a whole box of pasta for two people is way too much.  It was easy to adjust, and you could make more as well, if you needed.


Even though these recipes are fairly laid back, you still probably need to get things in order first -- I was attempting to chop onion, heat oil and read the book at the same time.  Next time I'll have all my ingredients ready.  Mise en place and all that jazz.  So I add the onion and a few dried chilies (my store didn't have fresh ones, and I figured as long as I had heat, it counted) to the oil.  Next item?  Cinnamon.  What?!?  Knowing that I would soon be adding tuna to this, I got a little scared.  Trust the Missus, I said.  Then I added my tuna which, despite being Fancy Jarred Sicilian Tuna from DiBruno's (upscale Italian market here in Philly; home of more stinky cheese than anyone needs, and where I had to find my tuna in olive oil because I went to the wrong store the first time), made the whole thing smell a little like wet dog.  Trust the Missus.  

I cooked it for as long as the rigatoni took to boil (about 11 minutes) and threw it all together.  I had my lemon zest and basil ready this time.  Need to figure out a way to squeeze lemons over a dish and not get pips in.  Dish up, add cheese (also strange for fish) and taste. 

Wow.  This is good.  Like, really good.  Any sense of wet dog has gone, and you really can't even tell it's tuna.  Salty, tomato-y, lemony and fresh, with a little spice.  This is one of those things you serve to people and try to get them to guess what it is and what's in it.  Everything blends together so well you can't quite figure it all out.  We likened it to Manhattan Tuna Casserole.  But in a good way.  It was great the next day, and you could probably eat it cold.  The half size recipe made two nice servings with a large one left over, and could probably be split into 4 if you were having a salad.  I will absolutely make this again.  Prego, be gone from my cabinet!

"Why don't you cook every recipe in one of your cookbooks?  Go through and cook everything, at least once.  No variations, no matter how strange or how hard to find the ingredients are.  That could be fun, right?"

Well, yes, I suppose it could.  It worked for the person who cooked her way through Mastering the Art of French Cookery. by Julia Child.  The cookbook I've chosen is Cook With Jamie by Jamie Oliver.  I have a slew of cookbooks.  Way too many.  Jamie's books, unlike those of some other celebrity chefs, actually have recipes that are easy to follow and work in reality, for normal people. (Are you listening, Anthony Bourdain?  You try making chocolate mousse according to your book.  Yourself.  Can't do it, can you?  Not without 6 arms and a rewrite.  If you don't get chocolate scrambled eggs, you'll get some great chocolate pudding.  But not mousse.)  And he claims on the front of the book, right there in white letters, that he can make me a better cook.  Who can argue with that?  
I also think Jamie's doing some amazing things instead of using his celebrity status to line his pockets, like taking on the evil school lunch programs in England and the United States, and starting the Fifteen Foundation.  Fifteen is a program for kids who come from less-than-great circumstances, and it gives them the chance to really turn their lives around through culinary schooling and restaurant work.  I've put a link to the program off to the side, and all the proceeds from this book go to Fifteen as well.  I called the blog "My Year with Jamie" because he likens what you'll learn by following the recipes as something akin to what his students learn during their time with him.

I've set myself some rules:
1) I must cook at least 3 recipes from the book each week.  They don't have to be in order, but they can't be the same thing, and repeats don't count.
2)  I must try everything, from the carrot cake to the oxtail (blurgh) to the live lobster (yikes!).  
3)  No substitutions.  I must be valiant in all efforts to obtain the ingredients he uses.  If I plan my shopping right, that shouldn't be a problem, but I do anticipate having some difficulty sourcing wild rabbit, for instance.  But we'll get there when we get there.
I don't have any professional cooking experience.  I took 8 weeks of Home Ec in the 6th grade, and 24 hours of cake decorating (I can make a mean buttercream rose, but I didn't see any when I read the book, so I'm not ahead with that).  I have an apartment kitchen (read:  average appliances) and standard but good kitchen equipment.  I was put to work early in the kitchen as a kid, and I've read cookbooks and watched cooking shows forever.  But I'm terrible with knives.  I've still got lots to learn.  

I'll try to post what I'm cooking ahead of time, in case anybody wants to follow along. (Like Picturepages, only with food!  Oh, I'm dating myself.)  This week's recipes are Jools' Favorite Saturday Afternoon Pasta,  A Rather Pleasing Carrot Cake..., and either the Fifteen Chocolate Brownies or Nan's Lemon Drizzle Cake (no, I normally don't eat this much dessert -- husband's class is having an end-of-year party, so I'll be foisting it on the law students).