If I were any sort of just and honest writer, dear friends, you would be reading a veritable doorstop about the virtues of this cake. There would be funny stories, historical perspective, a few thousand words of dreamy revelry and the oft-repeated-in-this-space observation that sometimes the whole is so much more than the sum of the parts. You would be reading a valentine in chapterbook form. You would be encouraged to put the kettle on, because this might take a while.
Alas, I might be just and honest—or try to be, anyway—but I am also subdued, quiet and tired, reduced to semicoherency by the continued adventures at LuthorCorp, the abrupt end of my plans for the fall and my utter confusion about just what to do next. (I am receiving a lot of advice, and it is splendid advice, but it will require some quiet out-of-office time to ponder, and, once I’ve made some decisions, to plan.) Thus, tonight I will confine my remarks to these: Please do not let either my (relative) quiet or the plain appearance of the cake deter you from making it. It is not only a beauty, but it is also a snap to put together. I made this one at 5 o’clock this afternoon, after Lloyd and I returned from lunch and a matinee of Spider-man 3. It is inspired by the jelly layer cake in The Taste of Country Cooking, a beautiful cookbook by the late, much-missed Edna Lewis, but the actual cake recipe is based on the plum cake recipe Jill Cornfield published in Cooking on the Edge, a cake about which I have written with great relish. Made with plums, this cake is soft and custard-like; made with apples, it is firmer and drier, but sweeter. Made this way, without fruit to soften the crumb, the crust is much more crisp and sugary, a nice contrast with the jam. It is a great cake for making after work, when your spirits might be flagging a bit and you want a little bit of something to pick them up.
Jelly Cake
makes one 8-inch cake
1 stick (4 oz.) unsalted butter, softened
1 cup (7 oz.) granulated sugar
2 large eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 dip-and-sweep cup (5 oz.) unbleached all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 jar (about 8 fluid ounces) jam or jelly of your choice (I used a jar of last year’s rhubarb-strawberry preserves, which set off the vanilla in the cake really well)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (Gas Mark 4) and set a rack to the middle of the oven. Butter a 8” round cake pan, line the bottom with parchment, butter the parchment and then flour the whole pan overall.
Cream the butter and sugar together until fluffy and light. Add the eggs, one at a time, and mix well. Add vanilla and mix to blend.
Combine the flour, baking powder and salt in a medium-sized mixing bowl until blended. Add to the wet ingredients and mix until the flour is fully incorporated. Decant the batter into the prepared pan and spread until the batter reaches the edges of the pan. Bake for 45 minutes, or until the cake is dry and springy to the touch. Remove from oven and let rest for 10 minutes before turning cake out of the pan and removing the parchment.
When the cake is cool, split into layers. Spread the bottom layer with jam. Replace top layer. A little powdered sugar is a nice touch, and a little Greek yogurt, sweetened with sugar or honey, is terrific as an accompaniment.
Edit: This has absolutely nothing to do with the topic at hand, but I want to thank whoever found this page by googling “list of catchy Marjoram slogans.” I am sorry to disappoint you by not having any catchy marjoram slogans to add to the list, but I have to say that I am enchanted by the thought of such a list. I don’t suppose you’d like to share it?