Thursday, 7 July 2011
You can see that I may have treated myself to a chiffon cake pan since I got one year closer to the big three zero a week or so ago. I even took a photograph of it, which has since been misplaced, but let's just say I ♥ my Wilton and every inch of its diameter.
Before we go any further with this chiffon appreciation, mind you, I just want to say something very serious and quite outside of my usual gently-negative, if-this-genoise-doesn't rise-then-I'm-going-to-blinking-well-kill-myself register.
I want to say how proud I am of my mother.
She is a woman who has worked incredibly hard every day of her life to make sure that we (my two siblings and I) have wanted for nothing. She has gone without to make sure that we get plenty; put everybody else before herself and carried on smiling. She is beautiful, selfless, open-hearted and caring.
Unsurprisingly, these sorts of attributes have allowed her to carve out a very successful career in the years since she returned to work after having had children. Without wanting to go into much detail (I'm scared of being sued!), her work situation got pretty shitty a few days ago. My mum is at the top, yet her first thoughts were of the people she manages. Her team, and their teams. People who depend on her, however indirectly.
Mum, I know you don't really read Delicious Delicious Delicious, and especially not right now, but I just want to say I love you. You are amazing, inspirational and can do anything. Now go get 'em.
And he's back...
So, this chiffon cake. It's pretty good. The neighbour's new housemate said it was so soft he wanted to use it as a pillow when we took some around to eat in their garden. (See, this is why I always tell people they should live in friendly old Cardiff. It's like an episode of 'Cheers', only there's no bar. And no Ted Danson.)
Getting the cake out of the tin is a little unnerving, mind. Rather like the first time you have a manicure and can't believe that you're actually paying someone to torture you in this way (Anyone else bleed? Thank you, 5th Avenue bitches!), it is an uphill struggle to cut the cake out of its aluminium casing without tears or a quickened heart rate.
In fact some of mine stayed in the tin. But with a texture and flavour such as this cake has (Hello there orange! Nice to see you again!), I don't really mind the less than perfect presentation. Besides, those pieces which stay behind are there for a reason: so you can eat them to make sure the cake is perfect. And it will be. This is another Rose Levy-B cake, after all.
I have waxed lyrical about chiffon cake enough on these pages, and I hate to repeat myself. But I will tell you one thing. The small cost of a Wilton tube pan is going to give you a lifetime of forties Hollywood glamour. Worth it. I say here's to Harry Baker!
Orange Glow Chiffon Cake
I watched Rose Levy Beranbaum make this cake in a video posted on Youtube. It seems silly to reprise the recipe here when you can see her do it herself. The video is here, and the recipe, here. Enjoy!