My Lemon Polenta Cake

I've had a few requests for my version of Lemon Polenta Cake. I've been making it for many years ever since I tasted my first slice in a cafe in Staines, outside London, one afternoon when my manager at Sharwoods' took me out for an end of the day briefing. I don't remember what we talked about but have never forgotten the cake. We have always remained friends and this is the lemon she gave me recently - grown on her own tree in her conservatory - a long way from Staines and the M25.

My cake is based on the River Cafe's iconic recipe, with some tweaks and adaptions from several of Nigel Slater's recipes from the Sunday Observer newspaper.

This is the one I made for my niece's wedding a few weeks ago.

It's gluten free.

Lemon Polenta Orange and Honey Glazed Drizzle Cake

Ingredients

250g butter

250g golden castor sugar

I tsp vanilla essence

3 large eggs

300g ground almonds

150g ground polenta

1 level tsp baking powder

Grated zest of 3 lemons 

Juice of 2

For the Drizzle Syrup

Juice and zest of 2 lemons

Juice and zest of a large orange

50g golden castor sugar

4 Tbsp runny honey

Method

Pre-heat the oven180C/Gas mark 5.

Line a loose based cake tin 20/22cm in diameter with non stick parchment paper.

Beat the butter and sugar in a food mixer till light and fluffy.

Add the vanilla essence.

Beat in the eggs one at a time.

Add the ground almonds.

I usually transfer the mixture to a large bowl at this stage and stir in the polenta and baking powder. 

Lastly add the grated zest of the lemons and the juice. Add the juice slowly  - you may not need all of it. The mixture should be slack but preferably not curdled. And it doesn't matter if it does curdle it'll still be fine!

Bake in the centre of the oven for 25 mins.  Turn the heat down to 160C/Gas mark 3 and continue cooking for a further 30 mins. Cover the surface with a piece of tin foil if it browns too quickly. 

Keep an eye on it. You know your own oven - if it cooks more quickly or slowly than recommended cooking times! Mine always needs less time than they say. 

Start testing it with a skewer after 40 mins or so. It should come out with no raw cake mixture sticking to it but still moist. And it'll be firm on the top. I always have to cover mine with foil.

Always better to err on the side of damp not dry re the skewer.

Remove from the oven and leave in the tin.

To Make The Drizzle Syrup

Grate the zest of the lemons and orange over a measuring jug. Cut the fruits in half and squeeze their juice into the jug and top up to 250ml with water. 

Pour into a saucepan - a large one as it has a tendency to boil over if you don't watch it - and add the sugar and honey. Bring to the boil and boil rapidly till it reduces to about 175 ml. You just have to take it off the heat and measure it after it starts to get a bit syrupy - after 5 -10 mins.

Spike holes in the top of the cake with a skewer/knitting needle and spoon the hot syrup and zest over the still warm cake, and leave to cool in the tin.

Serves 8 - 12 

It's lovely served with a  Chantilly Mascapone Cream. 

Mix a tub of mascapone  cheese with a tub of cream and a tub of natural yoghurt and sweeten with honey and vanilla essence.

And some fresh berries on the side.

Or just on its own. 

And light candles if it's a  birthday.

Potato Pebble

At the allotment this evening.

Last night my neighbour called round with the gift of a huge yellow courgette. They have the allotment opposite ours. I offered her some red currants in exchange.  So this evening  I picked a big punnet for her  - glad to pass them on - and a punnet of black currants for us - much nicer.

I bent the tines of the garden fork trying to dig up the potatoes  - the ground like rock. I always remember digging potatoes with my father in The Small Garden near Pangbourne  - him with his foot  planted on the fork, pushing it into the black soil, turning it over, exposing the tubers and me bending down, picking them out of the crumbly earth like clean smooth pebbles.

All day our gardener was pruning and strimming and clearing the wild honeysuckle and wisteria and rampant ivy on the long neglected trellises at the back. The ivy has taken hold with a great grip,  outgrown the fences and pushed over several fence posts and panels. So now we have to replace them. The garden feels lighter, less enclosed which is better for the plants, but I'm missing my high green curtain of foliage....feel  a bit exposed -like a newly dug potato pebble ......think the neighbours at the back can see into the kitchen while we sit at the table eating our supper. Just being hyper sensitive - no-one looking. 

Even if they are I'm getting better at being seen these days.

  Later I cooked some of the black currants with sugar and swirled them into a whisked up tin of coconut milk - the dense white solid part - sweetened with honey and vanilla essence - and made a deep ruby red dairy free ice-cream. Which reminds me that I didn't check if it froze. I'll go and do that now. May need to taste a spoonful as well.

Mincing Lake and Obsessions and Passions

There is an area of woodland, wild meadows, winding paths and a stream very near to our house. We've been going there regularly over the years ever since we moved to Exeter 12 years ago. I love walking the same paths noticing how it changes through the seasons. It's called Mincing Lake Valley Park. I always describe it to Robin as the place without the lake because although there's a  little stream

 running through it there is no lake to be found. Tonight I did some research to find out why. And why it's called 'Mincing. I can't get the image out of my mind of everyone walking round it taking small quick steps. Of course it's not that. It's derived from the Anglo Saxon word moenchin meaning nun. Hundreds of years ago the stream of the same name ran past St Katherine's priory and the nuns who lived there dammed the stream further up the valley to create a fish lake. Hence the nuns' lake.

                                       

Later it became the city tip and then in the 1970s it was filled in and capped and is the beautiful wild space we have now.

This evening we wander through its high summer wildness - the convolvulus  binding up the brambles,

the thistles breaking out 

from their prickly homes and 

bursting into the wind - flying fluff.

The cow parsley and wild carrot flowing up the banks, setting their seeds above our heads and 

the soft elegant grasses -  yellow and pink and dry  - shimmering in great swathes, waving us on our way. 

The view from the top of the hill where we always stop and sit on the bench which feels as if it's been waiting for us, and watch the dog walkers and the runners -  bright specs in the meadows below us.

This field of wheat in the distance  -already harvested.

Our walk is slow -  stopping and starting  - for me to take photos and 

and for Robin to pick the first ripe blackberries. Can it be so soon?  

And so we segue neatly from hunting wild garlic leaves to blackberry foraging  - exchanging one of his passionate obsessions for another. But I don't mind so long as we are outside - and I can feel the air breathing on my face and indulge one of  my passions - to search for beauty in every natural living thing ....capture it in my camera.....and share it with you.

Mandolin Slivers

Nigella's dense chocolate cake (so dense -  i.e. almost raw in the middle that I had to call it fudge cake) that I made for a pot luck lunch on Saturday at the beautiful home 

and in the beautiful garden

 of some dear friends.

Sunday lunch at the Old Mill Bakery in Lyme Regis - the best pizza ever...  mine was mandolin slivers of potato and garlic, cheddar cheese and spinach - ginormous squares of it. Actually too much - didn't feel so good later....

They sell the best sourdough bread in town. Sadly I eat less and less bread now...think it bloats me.

We walked along the beach afterwards..

along with the fossil hunters,

and the crows.

Some breakfast goodies from the Old Mill Bakery to take home in the green bag,

 and a tiny wild poppy by the side of the cliff path.

The contents of the green bag - a pain au raisin for Robin and a

croissant for me - both big enough for four people each.... in the freezer now for another Sunday - well mine is.

Today we have a coffee and a wander in the warm drizzly rain with a dear friend around the ancient gardens of the Dartington Estate. But 3 people is too much talking and not enough listening for Robin. We cut the visit short.

Somehow the rest of day eludes me  - fades into things undone . I find I can't muster love for anyone or anything. Especially not for the me that thinks that is a crime.

Tonight the mandolin sliver of moon rises outside my window  -  reminding me that nothing stays the same for long in the cycle of waxing and waning.

Summer Bounty

I make a start on the blackcurrant jam before breakfast. This is what a 'rolling boil that won't be stirred down' looks like.

As I've doubled the recipe it takes twice as long to reach setting point. You are supposed to discard the froth that comes to the surface but I skim it off  I and stir it into a tub of soya custard for Robin's dessert.

As I've still got loads of blackcurrants I make my favourite summer dessert of all time - Blackcurrant Parfait - thank you Hugh Fearnley Wittingstall for the recipe. When the custard is semi- freddo you rough it up a bit and pour in little rivulets of the puree,

swirl it through the creamy egg custard and freeze again. Just need an occasion to eat it now.

As I'm on a roll in the kitchen I make another of my favourite dishes from all this summer bounty - Green Beans  Tomatoes and Garlic using our own red onions from the allotment which are sweet but small - not enough watering.

We eat its warm, simple comfort for supper with grilled halloumi cheese, broccoli in a tahini lemon sauce and oven baked  crostinni.

I was going to roast these market aubergines as well but decided to wait till I'd picked the glut of courgettes at my sister's farm to make a ratatouille. As they are away in Berlin for a few day's I'm on vegetable garden duty - actually a pleasure to be in the wild exuberant growth of her garden, in amongst the long straight rows of climbing beans and peas, yellow gold calendula  and bright orange nasturtiums lapping at their feet.

Robin picks a huge bunch of  their sweet peas, makes us a cup of tea, sits at the picnic table and watches me as I cut long stems of mint, flowering oregano and sage to take home -  along with the heavy bag of courgettes and a lighter one of mange tout peas.

I also cut some of the beautiful, long stemmed red roses in full perfumed bloom, climbing high  up their back wall, to carry to my parents grave.

 This month in memory of my mother.....

who loved roses,

as much as I do.