Emergency baking

‘I did tell you I was going to be out for most of the day, didn’t I?’

‘No, I don’t think so’

‘In which case I’m guessing I forgot to tell you I’ve promised Claire one of your cakes’

‘You definitely didn’t tell me that’

‘Is it too late if I’m telling you now?’

So went the breakfast conversation in our house this morning. A precursor to some emergency baking.

It’s always good to have a quick and reliable bake in your repertoire, and for me, a Victoria sponge is always my go-to if time if tight.  Minimal ingredients, short cooking time and a final product which never fails to please. I know I’ve written about this particular type of cake before, but just in case they’re new to you a Victoria is a very light sponge made with butter, sugar, eggs and flour. These are whisked together to create the batter, this is then poured into two tins for baking. Once baked and cooled the two halves of the sponge are sandwiched together with jam, cream and if you’re feeling extravagant some fruit as well. It’s a style of cake first championed by Queen Victoria as part of the afternoon teas she liked to indulge in.

This morning we had no butter or fruit in the house, so it meant a quick trip to the local store before back to the kitchen. The next problem was how do you get butter just out of a store chiller unit up to the required room temperature. If I have time I’ll leave it on a window sill in the sun, but that clearly wasn’t going to work this morning. My only option was to sit it in the oven, already heating up to the required baking temperature, for a few minutes. I have done this before, but you have to be so careful as a moment too long will see your butter turning to liquid and leave it unusable in a cake.

Once the butter was softened the two cake tins were soon filled with batter and in the oven baking for the required twenty minutes. They were out by just after 11:00 and the next worry was would they cool in time, allowing me to assemble and decorate the cake before the planned noon departure time.

It’s only when you want a cake to cool that you realise just how long it takes. I threw windows open, I stood over the cakes fanning them, but for two thin, light sponges they packed an awful lot of heat. It was 11:40 by the time they were anywhere near ready, just enough time to spread the jam. whip the cream and add the blueberries. I’d normally go for raspberries out of preference but there were none to be had this morning.

The top of the cake was finished off with icing sugar, a few edible petals, and everything was in a cakebox with minutes to spare.

The bottom line is I’m never going to moan about the chance to bake, but maybe a bit more forewarning next time.