Cake or Death

The Meaning of Life & Lemon Cake

The day before yesterday the Tiny Saint went to his nonni for lunch. So far, so normal. As I walked over to collect him from their house I heard the single bell toll. This happens in our (aging) village at least once a week, someone dies, there’s a funeral. This time it was a distant relative of Lorenzo’s (it’s almost always a distant relative. The entire village is a distant relative of Lorenzo’s) and so his parents had decided to take their grandson with them. I crept in at the back of the church amongst the grievers, and spied the Saint at the front in the choir stalls. He was happily playing hide the hand (a useful game for passing long hours in silent spaces).

I extricated from him from the black and grey crowd and we went to the open day of his new nursery. A very different context of coloured balloons, bawling babies, blasting music and a billion soft toys.

Lorenzo arrived and I told him I’d collected the Saint from a funeral.

Good, he said, it’s important he understands about death. This with a totally straight face.

I wonder if it is really a priority for a two year old to understand about death. It all feels rather Catholic, somehow. He is already well acquainted with Gesu Bambino, or baby Jesus, who magically appears at the nativity scenes you find all over Italy on Christmas morning, so I guess it is only one small step to crucifixion, and thus to death, too.

I told our friend at the open day that my son had been at a funeral. Oh yes, my granny always took me too, he said.

For that generation, there was always a funeral, and even if you barely knew the person, you would always go. It’s just what one does. My mother-in-law is at a funeral nearly every afternoon. You can’t claim they’re there for the free snacks because there aren’t any. It’s just a service. But it’s very much part of everyday Italian life, at least here. Paying respects, perhaps. A chance to see distant relatives. My mother in law also sees it as an opportunity to air her latest chic black outfit.

Perhaps when I am a Signora I will fill my afternoons with funerals.

Anyway, we got home and we made this cake, which is one from Dolce, which I had forgotten about, but which is very good.

It’s a cake that contains all of my favourite ingredients (almonds, lemons, ricotta, olive oil), and can be built in layers. You can ice it, soak it in syrup (at this point it becomes more of a pudding situation) or you can simply have it as is, with a morning coffee, which is how I ate it this time.

You can taste the ingredients all perfectly, the lemon, the olive oil, the ricotta and the almonds. It’s moist and moreish and just sweet enough. It’s actually uplifting. In the way that only lemon cake can be. I urge you to make it now.

Now pondering the meaning of life and death, the Saint eats another slice.

Makes 1 x 23cm bundt cake

100g ground almonds

150g plain flour

2tsp baking powder

200g sugar

250g ricotta

good pinch salt

200ml olive oil

4 eggs

Zest of 3 lemons (small) or 2 large

Syrup:

Lemon juice – juice of those used

70g sugar

Glaze:

Lemon Juice

Icing Sugar

Preheat the oven to 180.

Grease a 23cm cake tin (bundt or standard)

Place all the cake ingredients in a blender and blend until a smooth batter is formed. (if you do not have a blender you can whisk everything together by hand with a balloon whisk, starting with the ricotta and then the oil to make sure there are no lumps in the ricotta).

Pour the batter into the prepared tin and spread it out evenly.

Place the cake in the oven and bake until risen and golden, about 40-45 minutes. Insert a skewer to check for doneness (see note).

Allow to cool while you make the syrup (if using). Melt the sugar and lemon juice in a small saucepan and allow to simmer for a few minutes. Pour the syrup over the cake and leave to cool completely. If you want to, ice with a simple lemon glaze.