MIKEY BELL

I am so charmed by cakes that ask to be nothing more than sponge and fruit.

I like to think of this cake as … and I’m loathed to use the word … a prettier sister to my mandarin yogurt cake, but that is not because of it’s any prettier in taste or texture, but because of the aesthetically pleasing ladybird-shell style decoration on the top.

And I use the word decoration loosely because the strawberries are present for flavour purposes more than vanity, but there we go. What’s wrong with a little vanity in cooking, really?

I say to that to say, this is a perfect summer cake. 

It looks special enough to bring out into the garden when you’re barefoot and breezy, but it’s light enough to enjoy as a post-barbecue treat, just before the bloat threatens to kick in. It has this subdued elegance to it that feels celebratory but simple, and I think that balance is exactly what I strive for in all cooking, particularly with baking.

Some thoughts:

Olive oil – yes and for a few reasons. It keeps the cake moist for days, adds a subtle fruitiness to the sponge, and, crucially, makes the cake so much easier to make because you can skip the creaming of the sugar and butter together, which I simply won’t do by hand these days, sorry. This cake demands idle wristwork, which, when you’ve been sweating all day in the summer, is a welcome break.

Vanity part II – plus, I think it makes a lighter, creamy yellow sponge rather than a richer, bronzed one, which against those red strawberries, is just very satisfying to look at.

Cost – …. but I know olive oil is extortion these days, so I tried to be stringent and considered with my measurements of it. If you can, please do, but if you don’t want to, then…

Butter – … you can melt 120g of unsalted butter and then allow to cool before continuing with the recipe. Just note it will make a closer, richer crumb which will brown differently to the olive oil version. No biggie, but worth mentioning. You could also use a 50/50 split of olive oil and butter. I haven’t tried this, but I have a feeling it would be possible? Let me know.

Cardamom – I can’t stop myself adding cardamom into my bakes. It has this lemony, floral, sharpness to it that is both minty and warm at the same time? Complex but so alluring. I’m embarrassed every time I bake and start considering the recipe, because I always think ‘this… but also… what if this had cardamom?’ Omit if you don’t have any or, I guess if you don’t want any.

Black pepper – yes, you see black pepper in that ingredients list and that is there on purpose. If you don’t like the idea of black pepper with strawberries, take that up with Nigella Lawson who turned me on to it and I’ve never looked back.

One more thing on cardamom – just use ready ground. If you can’t find it in the shop, you can get them very readily online. I can never be bothered with those damn pods and pips and the pestle and mortars and whatnot. If you don’t have access to ground cardamom, just use the black pepper and be done with it.

Citrus – I like the brightening sweetness of lemon zest in the batter, but for a softer, more rounded version, you could use orange zest.

Technique – be lazy. Don’t overmix this batter. Overmixing will develop too much gluten which will make it gluey and too compact. We want it springy and airy so we’re only mixing until the flour disappears. I am very smitten with my electric mixer, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not necessary here.

Strawberries – fresh not frozen, I’m afraid. I loves a frozen strawberry, as evidenced in this crumble and this trifle, but we need to watch our liquid levels here. The fresh strawberries will already leak watery juice into the batter, which, means the top centimetre of the cake will always be slightly moist and custardy; if you use frozen strawberries that’s just going to leak too much juice into the cake and it will be a nightmare to bake, in my opinion.

But if you must use frozen fruit – then I suggest this recipe instead which has already accounted for them.

Other fruit – go for it, hun. Raspberries, blackberries, blueberries, sliced peaches, sliced pears, sliced apples, the fruit bowl is yours to scavenge. Let me know what you used and how it worked out for you.

Serving – I just thoroughly whip some double cream until it’s set, not hard, and spoon it on the side of a thick slice. But some crème fraiche would also be fab. If you don’t want anything on the side, you don’t have to, it won’t suffer for it.

All good?

Let’s go.

Makes 8-10 slices

200-250g strawberries

225g plain flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

200g caster sugar

½ teaspoon ground cardamom

A pinch of freshly ground black pepper

1 lemon

2 eggs (large)

120ml olive oil

120ml blue-lid milk

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

A scattering of demerara sugar

1. Preheat the oven to 160°C (fan) and grease/line a 20cm round cake tin with a loose bottom.
2. Halve the strawberries, or quarter them if they’re quite bulbous, and keep to one side. I find it easier to first prep the strawberries so they’re ready for when needed.
3. In a large bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, salt, sugar, cardamom, black pepper, and then grate in the zest of the lemon. Whisk together thoroughly.
4. In a large jug, whisk together the eggs, olive oil, milk, and vanilla to create a fairly weird mix that looks curdled. My partner looked at me strangely when he saw this on the counter and I told him to mind his business, because it would be fine. Which it was and will be for you, so don’t worry.
5. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients (not even in batches, just fling it in) and fold together gently but firmly with a spoon until just combined. A rubber spoon will be great here. The odd lump or two in the batter is fine, but make sure there are no visible pockets of flour.
6. Pour into the prepared tin, smooth the top, and then arrange the strawberries cut-side down on to the surface of the batter.
7. Sprinkle with demerara sugar and then bake iin the oven for 55-60 minutes, checking at the 50-minute mark. You want the cake golden, tall and holding its shape, and also producing a clean skewer when it’s inserted into the centre. If you find the top is browning too quickly, cover loosely with foil for the last 15 minutes or so. Ovens run uniquely to their own pace, annoyingly, because life is never simple, so if a skewer isn’t coming out clean, just continue to bake until it does. An annoying instruction, but I can’t assume everyone’s oven is (as frustrating) as mine.
8. Once the skewer comes out clean, allow to cool in it’s tin for 15 minutes or so before removing from the tin and allow to cool completely before serving.
9. Serve with double cream that’s been whipped lightly or some crème fraiche. Yogurt is also a good shout. If you don’t fancy any of that, you could just dust some icing sugar over the top. Otherwise, served plain is fantastic.