I am writing down a recipe for CHRISTMAS CAKE.

I have already sent this recipe out into the Web but obviously to the wrong address so it will float randomly in space forever.

When we bought our house in Norfolk my mother had just died, younger than I am now, and my father had rather quickly, (but not horribly), settled down with one of her friends. This, and the fact that the house epitomised most people's idea of the perfect setting for an Olde Englishe country Christmas, meant that I suddenly had to provide the whole thing myself. My mother had been a Christmas-freak sort of person but in a rather sophisticated, urban way. (Black and white striped wrapping paper and rather futuristic gold sprayed dried flower arrangements). Because I had devoted many hours to ancient childrens' books I saw it all from a more Victorian point of view.

I filled the entire house with holly, ivy and fir branches, (easy when they are growing just outside), and put a huge tree in the hall; which was double height. As we didn't have any other heating downstairs every room had an open log fire. (You have no idea how much you don't want to bother lighting three or four log fires every single dreary morning). Everywhere amongst the leaves I hung small silver and gold reflecting things and more artificial scarlet berries. There was low lighting and candles. I was trying to make a 'magic' atmosphere for the children but also to relive Christmas as if I was a child myself, having the kind of old fashioned setting that I had always really wanted.

My husband is a Quaker and sees things from a practical rather than romantic viewpoint. The kind of person who says, 'Do they actually NEED all these presents?'. No, they don't NEED any of them. But I want them to have that pleasure of seeing a tree surrounded by strange, exciting parcels....JUST FOR FUN. He was away a lot, working in London and I had to do everything alone. It is peculiar, but I am pretty much the childrens' only real relation. There was no-one else to provide them with any form of present. I am an only child with no cousins, grandparents or aunts and uncles except my father's brother, from whom he is estranged. My husband's parents were really old when he was born and he has one much older brother and they are all QUAKERS who think that one small, well-chosen gift is quite adequate. This meant that I had to find roughly ten presents for each child, ranging from one 'big' one down to cheap but perfect, just so it would be similar to a 'family' present-opening session in olde Victorian times. This says nothing of the twenty or so tiny but individually relevant things which went into each child's large Victorian-style stocking. It's funny that written down it looks kind of mad but at the time there seemed no other way to do it that wouldn't be disappointing and dreary. My first two Christmasses with my husband's family had had such a 'sensible' unglamorous feeling about them. I wanted my children to look back and think that they couldn't imagine having a better time.

The Victorian thing extended to the food. It actually seemed quite fun, (the first two or three times), to make absolutely everything myself. I even toyed with crystalising my own fruit for the pudding but it apparently took weeks of stupid fiddling. I hadn't done vast amounts of cooking as in London we used to eat out all the time but, by chance, I had bought a book with a large Christmas section. I made everything from that and I have ever since. And that is where this cake recipe comes from - which I will now reveal.

CHRISTMAS CAKE.

From 'The Four Seasons Cookery Book' by Margaret Costa.


6 oz candied peel; 6 oz glace cherries; 4 oz almonds, skinless;
1 lb sultanas; 1 lb currants; 12 oz raisins; 10 oz plain flour;
10 oz butter; 10 oz soft brown sugar;
grated rind of 1 orange and 1 lemon;
1 tablespoon black treacle; 6 eggs; 1/2 teaspoon salt;
1/2 teaspoon mixed spice; 1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg;
4-6 tablespoons rum, brandy, whisky or sherry.


Chop the peel; quarter the cherries and chop the almonds. In a large bowl coat all the fruit and nuts with a tablespoon of the flour. Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy in a separate bowl, together with the grated orange and lemon rind and the black treacle. Gradually add the beaten eggs, with a sprinkling of flour to stop the mixture curdling, beating with a wooden spoon. Then stir in the remaining flour sifted with the salt and spices and enough of the alcohol to make a batter that will drop easily when shaken from the spoon. Lastly lightly stir in the fruit.

Turn the batter into a 9 inch cake tin, well greased and lined with two thicknesses of greaseproof paper. Tie a band of brown paper round the outside of the tin for extra protection. Hollow out the centre of the batter quite deeply to ensure a flat top for icing. Cover the top of the tin with two thicknesses of the greaseproof paper too to prevent it browning too fast.

Put into a very moderate oven, Mark 3, (325 F; 160 C), and after 20 minutes reduce heat to Mark 2, (300 F; 150 C). Bake for a further 40 minutes, then reduce the heat to Mark 1, (275 F; 140 C). The cake will need about 5 hours baking altogether. It s done when it stops 'singing' and a warm skewer comes out cleanly. Let the cake cool for an hour before turning out of its tin.


As I said on the lost e-mail. The ingredients of the cake are pretty expensive but it is very 'dense' and also lasts for a year, so you get a certain amount of wear out of it.
Also, whenever I make this it reminds me of the bit in 'Onions in the Stew' by Betty MacDonald, (her autobiographical book about living on Vashon Island in the '40's, if you don't know it). Where they are asked to tea in her shack by this obviously once genteel but now skanky hippy. Once they are seated, she proudly reaches down a bundle from a high cupboard and offers them some ancient fruit cake, wrapped, they can't help noticing, in a rather grey pair of mens' longjohns.

YOUR WORK IS NOT YET DONE.


ALMOND PASTE.

12 oz ground almonds; 6 oz caster sugar; 6 oz icing sugar;
1/2 teaspoon lemon juice; vanilla essence; almond essence;
a little sherry or brandy; approx. 3 egg yolks;
apricot jam.

Mix the ground almonds and caster sugar, add the icing sugar, sieved, followed by the flavourings. Mix to a stiff paste with sufficient egg yolk to bind.
Brush the top and sides of the cake with warmed apricot jam. Roll out to the shape of the cake, using the smaller piece for coating the top of the cake and the larger piece for the sides. Press well on to the cake. (I always find it is too sticky to do this and just squodge it on in chunks and spread out. Then leave to dry for 24 hours).


ROYAL ICING.

First coat: 1 lb icing sugar; 1/2 teaspoon glycerine; 2 large egg whites.

Second coat: 3/4 lb icing sugar; 1/2 teaspon glycerine; 2 small egg whites.


First coat. Sift the icing sugar. Add the glycerine to the egg whites. Gradually work in two-thids of the sieved icing sugar and beat well. Add the remaining icing sugar. The icing should be thick enough to stand in peaks before use. The first coat should be allowed 2 days to dry out before the second coat is applied.
Mix the second coat of icing in the same way. The icing should be thinner than that used for the first coat, but sufficiently thick to coat the back of a wooden spoon.

I usually put the icing on roughly - to simulate snow - and then you must add Father Christmas, reindeer, trees etc. within about ten minutes or it will set too hard.


I also make the cake and put on the almond paste weeks before Christmas and keep it in a tin.
Then put on the icing much nearer the time so that it stays softer.


It gives a charming hands-across-the-sea feeling to share recipes; although very few people actually like fruit cake.



- posted by Iris @ 11/12/2003 02:52:00 PM comment