Author Christine M Knight’s Blog
A Piece of Cake
Having had a busy day at work with more demands on my time than minutes to get everything done, I somehow survived the day and met all deadlines. When I arrived home, I turned to baking as a means to reduce my stress levels. Specifically, I turned to mastering the making of that time-tested, Australian classic –a sponge cake.
I found this afternoon’s baking experience calming, a time for reflection, and its outcome satisfying. This afternoon was very different from my experience in the kitchen on Saturday afternoon, 1 June, when guests unexpectedly popped in for a visit, afternoon tea, and a catch up on life with the Knights.
That Saturday was a bleak, wet day here in Canberra. The sky was a solid sheet of grey. The much needed rain fell with a constant rhythm and at a steady rate throughout the day.
We have the modern-day equivalent of an iron roof so we get to hear the music of rain drumming on the roof sheeting. It was the sort of day when it is great to be inside enjoying the warmth of a fireside and immersed in a good novel.
Living on a rural property has many benefits, but it has the significant disadvantage of not being near shops when the pantry is bare and guests arrive without notice. It is always great to see friends and family though.
I’ll take readers on a detour here away from that Saturday afternoon for a moment.
I grew up on the urban rural fringe of Sydney in a working-class area. Many people called where we lived the boonies, Australian slang that means far away, rural, and boring.
My mother’s family and a number of my parents’ friends had to travel a considerable distance to see us. Visiting was a whole day affair. Hospitality, in those years, meant the kettle was put onto the stovetop to boil and the teapot was readied in preparation for the tea ritual as soon as guests pulled up in the driveway. In those years, my mother instilled in me the importance of crisp clean tablecloths, serving on the best china, and providing a generous ‘meal’ appropriate to the time of the day.
My mother was the mistress of quick bakes – freshly made scones and sponge cakes. Jam and whipped cream always went with those baked delights. When ingredients were in short supply, she had her fall-back – Sao biscuits topped with thin slices of tomato, grated cheese and a light sprinkle of salt and pepper.
So there I was Saturday 1 June with visitors being ushered into the house by my husband and me standing in a depleted pantry looking at sparse shelves without any store-bought sweet biscuits or cakes; I had put off my Friday ritual of shopping for food until Monday afternoon. I did have ingredients though: a variety of flours, eggs, sugar, and so on, and I did have half a packet of Sao biscuits, an ample supply of tomatoes, and a block of cheese.
With memories of how easily my mother made a sponge cake and its accompaniments for guests, I opted to make one myself. How hard could it be? It only required four eggs, sugar, baking powder, and cornflour. I had them in abundant supply. I also had a full carton of fresh cream in the fridge. The problem of what to feed people was solved.
I learned a valuable lesson that afternoon. Never sell your guests on the prospect of a delicious cake before it is successfully baked.
Two dozen eggs and six rubbery, thin baked cakes later I knew I was beaten – whipped more than the eggs required for the sponge cake.
I settled for Saos topped with tomato and grated cheese. Guests were fed. Conversation was full of laughter. The kitchen was in chaos. I was exhausted, defeated by baking.
Back now to this afternoon after work. This afternoon’s baking experience was a different story. I had located my mother’s recipe for sponge cakes on the previous Sunday. On the way home today, I bought freshly laid hen and duck eggs – apparently, one of the secrets of a successful sponge cake. I followed my mother’s recipe carefully, ensuring I sifted the flour four times and gently folded the flour into the white peaks of sugary egg mixture.
This afternoon’s sponge cake is a marvel – delightful to look at, delectable to taste, and it is gluten free. Apart from a piece of cake, I have gained increased appreciation of my mother’s baking skill. In writing this blog, I have enjoyed memories of the festive feasts she created for her guests.
©Christine M Knight
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