Lemon Cake.
Lemon Loaf Cake. Lemon Pound Cake. The one from Starbucks. It goes by many names and people who eat this know what I'm talking about.
The Obvious: With the exception of boxed cake, I really don't know how to bake. It took two weeks and three failed loaves before achieving this final product, which still isn't quite perfect but good enough for a friday. The first one I made turned out pasty and pale. Not edible at all. It was tough as cement and managed a heaving thud as it landed at the bottom of the trash. The second one looked hopeful, until I heard something sizzle in the oven. The loaf rose and collapsed, leaving a burnt mess of carcinogens in the oven. I had a gut feeling a lot of it had to do with my skills in creaming butter and sugar. The lack, thereof.
Recipes called for some kind of fluffiness, a consistency of wet sand, gritty, grainy but this novice baker decided it was done when I said it was done. So much for taking charge. Baking is a lesson on precision, patience, and timing.
This third one finally looked like a respectable loaf. It tasted alright but not mind blowing and it took very meticulous steps to achieve this mediocrity. Sifted flour, not-melted-not-semi-soft butter, room temperature eggs, and the strength to endure the overwhelming need to put everything in the mixing bowl all at once.
Recipes here, there (didn't want to cheat with a boxed recipe but I'm curious to try this), and everywhere. ♥
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