Oh lemon drizzle cake, get in my mouth! This particularly delectable creation is a firm favourite of mine and old ladies alike, and for good reason – it's bloody amazing. The following recipe worked a treat, and stayed tasty for as long it lasted in our household (three days – a record!). After a recent wardrobe culling, I unearthed my rather amazing psycadelic sixties apron, which I promptly attatched to myself. So in honour of the occasion, I accompanied my cake making with some of the best 60's girl groups, and I strongly suggest you follow suit...
1) Pop the oven on, 'till it's at 180°c, and line your cake tin with foil. There, now the boring bit's over. Frantically mix 225g of butter and the same amount of sugar together until it's all creamy. Crack open four eggs, making sure to feel impressed with yourself when you don't accidently drop in any shell, and throw them into the mixture one at a time.
Suggested listening: Be My Little Baby – The Ronnettes
2) Weigh out 225g of self-raising flour, then sift it into your eggy/sugary/buttery concoction for minimum lumpiness. You might want to do a few warm up exercises and flex your muscles, as now you must do some serious whisking. Since I am seriously abysmal de-lumpifying, I very kindly gave it to my Ma to complete while I progressed to the next step. For those fools that do their own whisking, this song as rather appropriate, as you can dance around your kitchen, Twiggy style.
Suggested listening: Jimmy Mack – Martha Reeves & The Vandellas
3) Rinse and dry two lemons, then, using a cheese grater, collect all the zest and pop that in the mixture too. Observe how curious and naked the lemons now look, but don't chuck their pale, exposed bodies away – you'll need them later for the drizzle!
These Boots Are Made For Walking – Nancy Sinatra
4) Spoon the mixture into the cake tin and level out the surface, purely for aesthetic reasons. Proudly put it in the oven, and now the waiting game begins. Resist peeking at it whilst it's cooking, as opening the oven will make the cake go all sad and flat. You have an agonizing 50 minute wait on your hands (and then even longer for it to cool down) so you might want to have a little snack, to soften the blow. I opted for a little bowl of cherries.
Suggested listening: He's Got The Power – The Exciters
5) At last! Sieze it from the oven and place it on a wire rack. Whilst it cools down, you can begin with the drizzle making. Juice both the previously-zested lemons, then stir in 85g of caster sugar. Now, here comes your chance to release any pent up rage. Viciously stab your cake with a skewer until it's covered in little holes, then drizzle your, erm, drizzle all over it. Aaaand, you're done.... except not quite, as you've got to wait for the bloody thing to cool down and set - hence the song choice.
Suggested listening: You Keep Me Hangin' On – The Supremes
6) Finally, you're able to eat the fruit of your creation! Personally, I liked it best when it had completely cooled down, but if you really can't wait I bet it's divine with custard. We opted to have it with a generous helping of cream. For the ultimate taste test, why not serve it to the ultimate cake critic – an elderly woman? Woo your granny, your neighbour, or a passing stranger on the street, whichever. If she gives it the seal of approval, then you know you've done good.
Listening suggestions: Love Is Strange – Mickey & Sylvia