high-bar baking

As we all know, most English words work at least two full time jobs. Same spelling, same pronunciation, even, but two (or more!) different meanings. 

This is not that. This is creating multiple words out of the same word, for emphasis. What I’m getting at: there are baking adventures that are projects. Then, there are “Projects.” Capital P. Emphasis on the first syllable. 

Claire’s Preserved Lemon Meringue Cake, while lovely, was the third variant of this same word. It was a three syllable, much emphasis, puh-RA-ject. 

Phase one of the quest was finding preserved lemons in the first place. Three Middle Eastern groceries stores later, I finally found some. Yes, there are three Middle Eastern groceries stores in Salt Lake City. More, even, though thankfully I was not required to visit them all. Who knew? 

Then the cake layers. I did not note how much I knocked down the leavening, but there’s no way on God’s Green Earth I used a tablespoon of baking powder. I’d guess either two thirds or half that. I did get to learn how to successfully halve cake layers horizontally, so that was cool. I’ve never done it well in the past. Claire’s instructions for working your way around the cake marking the horizontal center with the knife and then going back around were very helpful. 

The real reason it’s such a project is that the filling and the frosting are not the same. Not only that, but they’re both fairly labour intensive. First I made lemon curd. It did not take the 71 minutes I (angrily) noted in the recipe the first time I made Claire’s (what a disaster). I did not let it. I kept bumping up the heat, and as soon as it could coat the back of a spoon, I was done. Call it — time of death!

The outside is an Italian meringue. I should have used a much smaller pot; my candy thermometer didn’t reach the syrup, and I had to keep poking it with my handheld thermometer. All the while stressing about how boiling temperature is not actually the same in SLC as it is at sea level (thanks, New York). But we managed. It worked. 

The benefit of meringue is how absolutely gorgeous it looks with no styling effort at all. This is the first cake in the series that doesn’t look like a “before” picture. This one actually looks like an “after”! 

Plus I got to set it on fire. Now that’s fun.

The cake was delicious (if rich, goodness gracious). But it was a lot of work. Not for the faint of heart. Even broken up over many days.