Orange You Glad There's No Gluten?

While I waited for the custard base for my first-ever batch of home-brewed ice cream to chill and thicken, I proceeded with my originally-planned weekend program, the production of a new kind of gluten-free cake.

The project was not a baking experiment as such, since the recipe's ingredients contained no flour in the first place. Of course, design is no guarantee of success, as my Carrot of Last Resort demonstrated to the family's dismay back in April. Such was my disconsolation after that regrettable episode that afterwards I took a cake-hiatus and distracted myself with cheese-making, gardening, and journeys to foreign lands.

However, when the gluten-free gods proffer a promising recipe, unlooked for and unbidden, it is wise to take notice and get to work.

This particular manna from heaven appeared in a souvenir from one of Tambo International Airport's exceptional newsagents - the June issue of Wine magazine, a monthly journal dedicated to all matters viticulturally South African. The banner on the front cover boldly proclaims, It's a Way of Life! - and I suppose it is, if you happen to be a retired hedge-fund zillionaire, re-insurance artiste, or relocated Rhodesian diamond magnate.

Sadly, I won't be able to afford my fantasy pinotage farm for some time yet, so I satisfied myself with perusal of the tasting tests (South African Brandy: Why It's More Than Just a Mixer); handy hints (Simplicity in the Cellar: Sensible Storage Tips from the retired head of JP Morgan Chase, SA); and interviews (Meet Eben Archer, The Vine Whisperer). The glossy also contains pages and pages of fantastic recipes (Make Your Own Boerewors!) for both traditional and newfangled fare.

It was in a problem-solving piece titled something like What on Earth Can You Eat With Port Other Than Cheese? that I hit pay dirt: a recipe for orange and almond cake. The accompanying photo depicted a luscious-looking dense golden torte (somewhat sunken in the middle) with a lovely brown caramelized crust. I immediately vowed to dedicate my Saturday afternoon (while the boys were on their annual pilgrimmage to the Mid-Atlantic Air Museum's World War II Weekend, don't even ask) to its duplication.

The recipe originally came from Claudia Roden's A New Book of Middle Eastern Food, which I happen to possess, but from which I have never baked. I think that's funny, in the strange rather than ha-ha sense. 

At any rate, I made the cake without too much fuss (the hardest part was converting the crazy measurements into American) and it was delicious when dusted with powdered sugar and dolloped with a blob of sweetened orange jam (see recipe, below). It was even more stellar the next day, heated briefly in the microwave and topped with home-made vanilla ice cream. The third day I ate it for breakfast with a spoonful of organic super-yogurt and it was excellent.

It would also be very nice with a glass of Viljoensdrift Cape Vintage Reserve 2008.

Claudia Roden's Orange and Almond Cake

Place three medium oranges in a saucepan and cover them with water. Bring it to a boil and simmer the oranges until they are very soft: this took me close to two hours. When they are done, drain them, top and tail them, and slice them into quarters. Remove the seeds and dump the remains (peel, pith and all) into a food processor fitted with a metal blade. Whir until you have a smooth puree. It's almost like jam, really - very bitter but extremely delicious. I pulled out a few tablespoons while it was still warm and sweetened it with granulated sugar for a sauce. Cool the puree to room temperature or chill overnight if you wish.

Then you need:

• 6 eggs, separated
• 8 oz granulated sugar
• 7 oz ground almonds
• 1 tsp baking powder

Preheat your oven to 350 deg F. Butter a 9-inch round cake pan, line it with silicon parchment, and butter that too.

Beat the egg yolks and sugar together in a large bowl until pale and thick. Beat in the orange puree, almonds, and baking powder.

Whisk the egg whites to soft peaks, and fold them into the orange/almond mixture.

Pour the batter into your prepared pan and bake until firm (this took one hour and ten minutes in my oven). If it starts to over-brown, cover loosely with foil - but I think it's supposed to be quite brown for all that, and crispy and delicious on the outside.

Cool the cake in the pan and enjoy it for the next three days, at least - if it lasts that long.