By Amber Warner-Warr.
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Whilst the idea of not picking up my daily oat latte from Gail’s over the vacation was one that I found worrisome, there was a light at the end of the tunnel for me. Coming back in Summer term would provide me with all of the creamy caffeine and sugar I could ask for (and every tenth coffee free, what a bargain!) but come ninth week and it was made abundantly clear I would have to rethink this timeframe.
As someone who was used to frequenting the coffeeshops in Oxford, to the extent that I would make friends walk further with me just to get a coffee that I ‘respect’, this was obviously more troubling than the idea of a simple five-week hiatus. There’s undeniably been another aspect of socialising that has been lost and is almost impossible to recreate over Zoom. By tenth week, all of these problems had been solved. Enter the sourdough.
I used to bake a lot, back when my family was in one home and there were enough snacking mouths to justify brandishing forty cookies on a Tuesday evening to my unsuspecting parents. In recent years, however, travelling a lot and work and a general apathy to anything that might require standing in a hot kitchen over an unpredictable oven for an hour longer than Mary Berry said it would be has taken over. Therefore, I found myself cooking increasingly less for my family. That’s not to say I lost my foodie streak at all; instead, I turned to Instagram in the hopes that ‘food micro-blogger’ could make me look like a professional in 5 years’ time.
Since the lockdown, however, and in the oppressive boredom of every day feeling like a Sunday, I’ve found myself perusing the glossy pages of Nigella’s cookbooks more than the Summer term reading list. One night I cracked: the last time I had indulged in some good, freshly baked cake seemed like the distant past, and with my mother stressed to the eyeballs about coronavirus’s impact on work, I decided that cake was the solution. Since then, barely a day goes by without me dramatically announcing that ‘I’m cooking again’ or divisively asking in the family chat ‘URGENT: lemon or almond???’ and waiting for their opinions.
When I’ve mentioned this newfound passion the reactions from my friends have ranged from the disgust, when I made a coffee and walnut cake, to the outright horror and fear for my very personhood. In part, I admit that this might have been influenced by how I was well known in college for only used the kitchens for a chat on the way back to my room, or for cooking a single refrigerated pizza, one time in Spring term, with the assistance of a friend. Now, however, I’m finding that I’m not alone in embracing these simple delights in life. Rarely a day goes by where there isn’t a new banana loaf on my timeline, or a friend mentioning that they too have begun baking at ridiculous hours of the day (my preferred time is between 12 and 2 am). It might seem silly to hold so much stock in a simple loaf, but in the words of Miguel de Cervantes, ‘all sorrows are less with bread’.
Below is my recipe for an easy Easter lemon Madeira that went down especially well with my family. If you you would like any of the recipes mentioned here or baking advice please send us a message! Hope you enjoy.
Ingredients:
- 175g softened butter
- 175g caster sugar
- 215g self-raising flour
- 1tsp baking powder
- 60g ground almonds
- 4 free-range eggs
- The zest of 1 large lemon
Method
- Preheat the oven to 180C/160C Fan. Line a deep round cake tin (I used a 19cm cake tin).
- Put all of the ingredients into a large bowl and beat thoroughly – it’s recommended to use an electric whisk or mixer. Dollop into the prepared tin and level it out.
- Bake for 55-60 minutes, or until a skewer or knife inserted into the cake comes out cleanly. Leave in the tin for 15 minutes to cool before taking it out, then allow it to cool completely on a wire rack. Decoration is optional because this cake is great alone too.
Edited by Marnie Ashbridge
The Quarantine Times 