This slim advertising pamphlet from the Swans Down company is one of my favorites. The graphics are fantastic, as are the recipes which cover a range of altitudes from 3,000 to 7,000 feet. Published in 1955, all of the classic cakes of the day are represented, from Devil's Food and Front Cake to Angel Food and Wonder Cake. There's also a trove of recipes for fillings and frostings such as Sugarplum (Seven Minute Frosting with Prunes), Sea Foam (Seven Minute with brown sugar instead of corn syrup), and Clever Judy (an uncooked egg-based chocolate frosting).
The King's Shoelaces (Project VICTORIAN CAKES)
It is not surprising that a man of Father's presence held great attraction for the ladies. Every unattached female who came into our home, and many, I fear, who were already safely married, had her flirtatious eye on him. Visitors, pensioners, clients, all fell before Father's Irish charm; but he, to do him justice, was to all appearances quite unconscious of his conquests, while mother was merely amused. (p. 82 of Victorian Cakes)
The passage above is from the enticingly-titled chapter Father's Lady Friends. In it, Caroline introduces us to a variety of women who made frequent visits to the Campion home and were smitten with her father, Robert. All of them are remembered through the cake recipes they contributed to the families collection, but none are quite like The King's Shoelaces.
A Miss Lizzie Dexter can be thanked for bringing this confection to the family table. "An Irish gentlewoman of a certain age," Lizzie was introduced to the family following the Great Fire. Though suffering no loss herself, she volunteered to aid those devistated by the blaze, among them being the Campions, who "barely escaped with their lives." Quickly befriending Mrs. Campion, she soon became a beloved guest and the woman whom Robert jokingly proclaimed to be who he'd like for a second wife (causing much flustering for Miss Dexter and, I imagine, Mrs. Campion as well because, I mean, come on).
Though skilled in many areas that she demonstrated, it was with this cake that Lizzie made her strongest impression. "Its name had a glamorous sound, and the cake was uncommonly good," Caroline remarked. And I have to agree . . . once you get past the sheer oddness of cake served in such a manner, it really is a lovely little bite, redolent with the Orange Flower Water and Lemon used to flavor the strips.
The King's Shoelaces
Adapted from Victorian Cake by Caroline B. King
3 large eggs, divided, at room temperature
1 c (125 g) all-purpose flour
1/8 tsp. baking powder
Zest of 1 Lemon
2 tbsp. Orange Flower Water
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees and line a half-sheet pan with a Slipat or parchment paper
Separate the eggs and set aside. Whisk together the flour with the baking powder and set aside. In the bowl of a stand mixer fitter with the paddle attachment, rub the zest of the lemon into the sugar until incorporated. Add the egg yolks and beat at medium speed until foamy, about 4 mintues. Remove from the mixer and, by hand, fold in the Orange Flower Water followed by the flour. Beat the egg whites on medium-high in a clean bowl until stiff peaks form. Fold into the batter with care.
Spread the batter evenly across the prepared half-sheet pan. Put into the oven and bake for 15 minutes until a cake test comes back clean and the top is faintly colored. Remove from the oven and let cool completely.
To make into "shoelaces," lay the cooled cake upside down on a large cutting board liberally dusted with powdered sugar. Carefully peel away the Silpat or parchment, then dust the exposed cake. Using a pizza cutter, slice the cake into long, thin strips, dusting each with powdered sugar before setting aside.
In the book, Caroline remarks that they would enjoy the cake with cold milk or lemonade in the Summer or Hot Cocoa in the Winter, and indeed, any of those accompaniments would be perfect.
CakeBook Monday: THE CAKE COOK BOOK by Lilith Rushing and Ruth Voss
This wonderful cookbook from 1965 contains a plethora of cake recipes, but the reason I really love it is for the Rare, Historical, and Offbeat chapter which contains the priceless recipe for the Toothless Nell Cake. Plenty of used copies can be found online for as little as a mere penny.
Toothless Nell lies buried in Boot Hill at Dodge City, Kansas. Wyatt Erp, Bat Masterson and other law men of that day probably tried to keep her in bounds. We are told she liked this cake. How she ate it without teeth history doesn't record.
I baked and wrote about the Toothless Nell cake for my former blog, Domestology, back in 2012. You can find that post here if so inclined.
Thoughts on the Perfume Cake (Project VICTORIAN CAKES)
When Sarah first contacted me about baking together—the Perfume Cake in particular—in the Fall of 2014, I had been planning a different cake project to kick off 2015. Her request drew me back into Caroline's book and planted the seed for the Victorian Cakes project.
Much of what there is to say about the initial experiment Sarah covered with aplomb in her Etsy piece, but I have been thinking about this particular cake quite a lot and thought it worth it to add a few notes of my own.
It was fun to try The Parlor Apothecary's Victorian Spirit blend, and I do think some of the reason it came out inedible is due to the quantity we added. Though it is the only cake I have ever thrown out—ever—I don't feel done with Perfume Cake yet.
I really do want to try it out with Violet since Caroline does mention that fragrant little bloom as the family favorite. That said, a natural Violet essence does not exist. I have thought about trying a few scant drops of synthetic Violet or even the liquor Crème de Violette, which would probably prove more palatable.
Violet aside, I recently had the chance to visit the home studio of Julianne Zaleta, the woman behind Herbal Alchemy (whose extracts Sarah mentions in the Etsy piece). Her space is dream-like, headily-scented, and an antique bottle lovers dream. As it was our first meeting and I didn't want to intrude, I found myself practically sitting on my hands to keep from photographing her entire place. We sipped seltzer water flavored with her own Peach essence out of delicate glasses and talked about cakes and perfumes and possible collaborative kitchen experimentation. I learned a lot in the little time I was there and really look forward to going back and tinkering more with fragrant baked goods!
Perfume Cake garners just a small mention in Victorian Cakes, it being a riff on Emily's Vanity Cake, but it certainly is a stand-out. More than any other recipe I have tried from the book so far, it thrillingly connects me and these experiments to those done by a group of sisters in a Chicago kitchen over 100 years ago.
