The cakes of solstice

Fruitcakes – who ever thought that such a simple piece of baking could elicit such strong responses in people? While some love a rich, wintry Christmas cake, others are less keen on them. The role of citrus peel or glace fruit in a classic cake stirred up passions. Don’t get me started on the topic of Parisienne essence that we’ve had at Chez FoodNazi. Love them or leave them – the Solstice Cake discussions, on and off line, have been a joy for me to read.

Oddly, I fall into the camp of ‘not a huge fan’ of the Christmas cake but for Solstice it is about a whole heap more than a sweet treat to have with a cuppa or round off a meal. I enjoyed the reconnection with my childhood, the physicality of stirring a massive amount of macerated fruit through a batter and the smell, oh the aroma of the cake baking was almost enough for me. To be honest I haven’t even eaten mine yet, as my recipe suggests letting the cake sit for a couple of months before devouring. Though that is taking some restraint in my household.

With the shortest and longest days of the year occurring in the different hemispheres there has been a sterling effort by entrants embracing the task. The trick has been making it your own. Uncoupling the cake from the tradition of Christmas seems to have freed up a lot of cooks to claim the genre for themselves. Each story has been a joy to read. I hope you like them too.

The Solstice Cake Round-Up

Lucy of “Nourish-me” in Melbourne made a most delightful fruit and marzipan cake. The inclusion of marzipan on the inside certainly peaked a lot of excitement. The first one was so good, she’s made a couple more since!






Din, of “No Eggs or Nuts” fame, has worked around the household’s dietary requirements to make a yeasted, egg-free Saffron cake. Another Melbournite with a long standing family tradition of marking winter solstice with a pudding, it was impressive to see the cake get a look in as well.



Still in Melbourne, a delightful newcomer to the blogging world Doc Witch high priestess of “The Dark Side of the Broom” has knocked up a Nigella inspired dark and sultry fruitcake. As a recently diagnosed coeliac, the cake turned out perfectly by substituting the regular flour for a gluten-free mix.




Also in this chilly city is Johanna from “Green Gourmet Giraffe” who managed to overcome her ambivalence towards fruit cakes with a large helping of chocolate. The people from Sunbeam would be proud to see their recipe updated in her Chocolate Fruitcake.



The chocolate theme continues with Nora in Sydney from “Life is a Smorgasbord”. She has created a rich, chocolate Drambuie fruitcake for solstice. Chocolate and liqueur has always been a winning combo in my book!




Bravely representing England in this event is Lysy from "Munchkin Mail". She has gone all summery with a Lemon solstice cake. As the only Northern Hemisphere entrant Lysis had a taste of how some of us feel about heavy fruit cakes at the height of summer and has opted for a Nigella inspired number with the fruit on the outside.






Last but not least is my own offering, reviving Alison Holst's great 70’s kiwi classic. A rich fruitcake featuring a tropical twist, my entry is a Pineapple Solstice Cake.




Honorable Mentions:

To the following Melbourne bloggers who got into the spirit of all things solstice but didn't give away their secret recipes or formally enter. They've taken great pics, so don't forget to check out their posts.

Suse whipped up a rich and dark number and celebrated the longest night outdoors with friends, family and very pretty lanterns.

Duncan teased us mercilessly with the a macaroon creation (I want some!)

Anna made the family’s secret recipe fruitcake.



It has been a joy to see people inspired by the theme. Long may the solstice tradition continue.

Solstice cake and a reminder to send your link

Howdy one and all from the free wi-fi at Wellington airport. The view outside is blanketed with rain and I suspect the temperature is in single digits. As I've been off line for a few days, it will take me a while to read through the many comments that have been left on a wide variety of posts while I have been in the wilderness (well not quite but being without the internet for days does feel like that sometimes).

I'm excited there has been a few more entries in the Solstice cake event - but please send me your links and details to my email address as requested in the event details - that way I wont miss telling the world about your grand cake making efforts. You have til Wednesday this week to get your entry in.

While I have been gone I have been told gleefully by the Significant Eater about meaty delights his family have made in my kitchen. I can only hope that by the time I arrive later tonight that the place has been fumigated and the house is vegetarian friendly once more.

My winter solstice was spent being out there in the world. I caught up with kiwi friends over breakfast, lunch and finally dinner - wall to wall friendship and food. What could be better? Hope the season has been kind to you where ever in the world you may be.

cake reminder

It is just a couple of days off winter (and summer) solstice. I am packing my bags to head to an even colder climate. Time to put all my recent nostalgia into practice.

Just a reminder that is a week to go til the solstice cake event comes to a close. The entries thus far are all so different. I'd love to see your take on the theme, so turn the oven on and get baking!

Back in a few days.

winter solstice cake with pineapple

Today I approached my kitchen in an entirely new way.

First, I tried to remove as much stray cat hair as possible clinging to my clothes.

Then, I tied back my wayward hair.

I even put on an apron (I own an apron? Well it was a giveaway with a magazine or something).

My hands were washed, the table and bench top wiped.

I got out all the ingredients ahead of time.

It was like the totally organised, Virgo part of me was invited to a party and the rest of me came along for the ride.

After two days marinating of copious amounts of dried fruit in the largest bowl I could find, today was D-Day. Cake wise that is. Barring any catastrophe, I would make a solstice cake.

I was sure there would be far too much fruit. No way would the completed mix ever fit into the cake tin. I even got out the tape measure to see if the largest tin really was 9 inches (in old money). I had contingencies, the muffin tin at hand if there was any leftover but despite all odds the quantities were perfect. Imagine that, when you follow the recipe it all worked out in the end.

I improved a little on the spices, threw in a random ingredient and even blanched my own almonds.

And now I sit, being tortured by the most exquisite aroma of a cake cooking for at least another 3 hours.

So I typed two weekends ago. I had so much fun “acting into” the role. Really, it took me back to my acting days.

My mother, the daughter of a baker, spent her teens icing cakes and slices and other sundry kitchen handing. I grew up knocking out sweet treats under her tutelage. But in my post-non-dairy, health conscious years the ritual of the cake is all but lost on me. My mum is on the decline these days; she doesn’t cook let alone bake. The last time I made Alison Holst’s Pineapple Christmas Cake I was still at school, my mother buzzed about the kitchen lending a hand yet still made me feel like it was her creation. This drive to bake a solstice cake has been a very personal one – part pagan and part nostalgia. I’ve been slow on the uptake about this but I have realised making any kind of food from my childhood has become a way of reconnecting with the happy memories I have of being mothered, in the kitchen where she reluctantly spent most of her time.

So a confession. I don’t really like fruit cake, though the Significant Eater goes wild about it. The making of the cake was about the process for me – I don’t give a hoot about the outcome but I promise before the event is up I will have the critics road test it for us all. With such good quality ingredients (organic butter, flour and eggs, dried fruit not preserved with additives, I know you would expect nothing less from me!) it would be really difficult for anyone to mess it up.

Another joy about baking a cake that I had forgotten about was the child like pleasure gained from licking the beaters and the bowl before cleaning up. I certainly know that got my taste buds excited.

As you may have guessed, I had to make a few tweaks to the original recipe. Firstly if you want a temperance cake, omit the rum and brandy and just soak the fruit in the pineapple and its juices. The original recipe doesn’t macerate at all but I think it is always a good idea to rehydrate the fruit. The real deal also uses 1/2 tsp of almond essence and a 1/4 tsp of ground nutmeg. The former is too synthetic for my liking and the later; well I just got swept away by the smell of mixed spice instead.

I have always wondered why my fruitcakes are blondes while others knock out to brunette til I came across the SE’s mother’s recipe that calls for something called Parisienne Essence. Basically this little concoction of chemicals is used to make gravy darker and other such things. As much as I liked the idea of a lush, dark battered cake I wasn’t going to use some fake browning agent. My solution was to use 1 tablespoon of cocoa. I didn’t want this to be a chocolate cake so figured that a tablespoon would make the colour slightly richer (along with brown rather than white sugar). Though have to admit my choice of rum, not my favourite brown distillation brandy, was a tribute to rum and raisin dark chocolate. It could have been worse, I seriously considered Malibu as a companion to the pineapple for a number of days!

Stay tuned for the updates on taste, appearance and texture.


Have you started your solstice cake yet? Get cracking as you have til the 25th June to submit it.

Pineapple Solstice Cake

1.5 kg mixed, dried fruit* (sultanas, diced dried apricots, currants etc)
1 cup crushed pineapple
200 ml dark rum

225 g (8oz) butter
1 cup brown sugar
3 teaspoons mixed spice (or 1 tsp each mixed spice, cinnamon and ginger)
1 tablespoon cocoa
6 large eggs
3 cups flour
blanched almonds – to decorate
1/4 cup of brandy

Soak the dried fruit, pineapple and rum in a large bowl for 1-2 days. Keep covered but stir occasionally. In the cooler months it is fine to leave it macerating at room temperature.

Preheat your oven to 150 c (or 130 if using a fan forced oven). Line a 23 cm (9inch) cake tin with a double layer of paper. You can use newspaper or brown paper on the bottom and a layer of baking paper on top.

Cream butter and sugar until light and creamy. Add spices and cocoa and give it another whirr with the beaters. Add eggs separately (it is a good idea to crack them as needed into a small bowl, to make sure you don’t wreck the cake with a dud egg or a bit of shell). Between each egg add a little of the sifted flour if there is any sign of curdling.

Stir in the macerated fruit mixture and slowly add the rest of the flour. Use a wooden spoon and a lot of muscle to as you work the mixture. Make a wish as you stir away (mine was for better muscle tone). Add a little extra flour if needed, you are aiming for a moist batter that will "drop from the hand" (so said the recipe I slavishly wrote in my best hand writing as a teenager). It just means that it batter shouldn't be so wet it sticks to your fingers. Once you have reached the required consistency, dollop the mixture into the lined cake tin, pushing it well into the corners. If you are not going to go the whole hog and do the marzipan icing, then decorate the top of the cake with blanched almonds.

Bake at 150c for 2 hours, then at 130c for a further 1.5 – 2 hours. You know it is cooked when the skewer comes out clean.

While still warm (the recipe stated to do it in the first 5 minutes) pour over the brandy, if you like a slightly tipsy fruit cake, it is Solstice after all. When cool enough to handle, take the cake out of the tin and cool on a wire rack.

Once fully cooled store in an airtight container. For a Christmas cake I noted to make it in October. We also lovingly 'fed' the cake with a tablespoon of brandy sprinkled over the top every week. I've never been a fan of glace fruit or marzipan as I feel so much fruit and sugar is sweet enough. But don't hesitate to make this cake your own by honouring it with your own family traditions.

* For this cake I used sulphur free dried fruit – 750 g sultanas, 500 g diced dried apricots and 250 g currants.

I'm getting excited

$20 sulphur-free dried fruit √
organic flour √
organic butter √
half a dozen eggs from very happy chooks √
mixed spice √
a tin of crushed pineapple – yup you read that right! √

…its starting to look like a solstice cake!

Solstice Cake 2008 - food blogging event

Here in the Southern hemisphere we are barely a month away from the winter solstice. The days are getting shorter and the nights decidedly cooler. This is the perfect season for dried fruit, nuts and warming spices. Unlike Christmas around these parts where it’s a case of “Fruit cake? No thanks, pass me anther mango please”, this time of year cries out for a rich fruity bit of baking.


Please join me in my inaugural food blogging event Solstice Cake – 2008. This is open to anyone who wishes to bake a Christmas-style fruit cake (or Solstice cake for my fellow pagans), anywhere in the world.

Rules

A cake is a cake is a… a full size, mini or even if you really must – muffins. But sorry no Christmas pud. Can be au naturel or iced. What defines this kind of cake is the inclusion of dried fruit and spices, sometimes nuts.

Your post should include the words “Solstice Cake 2008” in the title and/or in the body of the text. You are welcome to use the event logo as well.

Deadline your entry to be posted on your site and the following details emailed to me at otherrants(dot)gmail(dot)com by sunset on 25 June 2008. In your email please include a link to your post, who you are, where you are and anything special about your cake. It would be nice if you didn’t enter your cake into any other food blog events.

Please link your entry back to confessions of a food nazi.

Simple.

I look forward to reading about all your luscious Solstice Cakes…now get baking!