Lemon Cake with Almond Flour

As I write, California is experiencing terrible fires. Here are some ways to help:

The United Way is helping people affected by the Camp Fire.

The American Red Cross is also accepting donations.

The North Valley Community Foundation is accepting donations.

To help animals impacted by the fires, the  Conscious Cat has some great links.

Spunky’s Rescue Ranch, in Malibu, California, burned to the ground. Mary Rickards, the woman who ran the ranch, lost her home. You can donate via paypal to Mdrickards@aol.com or help the ranch via their gofundme.

(Full disclosure: I learned about Spunky’s through an Instagram friend. She did not ask me to share this and doesn’t know I’m doing so.)

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We purchased our home from a bank and know little about the house’s former inhabitants. We do know were extremely fond of turquoise, a shade they slathered indoors and out. Turquoise is impossible to paint over.

Example. Not our house. Imagine painting over that door.

Our home’s former inhabitants were also fond of fruit trees. Pear, cherry, and Asian pear trees randomly dot the yard. For good measure, they planted a lemon tree  smack in the middle of everything.

It’s kind of a mess. (The yard and the tree.)

The lemon tree is a Lisbon, a common California varietal (not that I had a clue until consulting the Internet Arboretum). Until this year, the lemon tree reliably produced a single winter crop, which yours truly dutifully pickled, baked, zested, and squeezed over anything that stood still.

A few months ago, Mr. IK took pity on the poor tree and decided to feed it whatever you feed trees (Insert Throwing Muses joke here.)

The tree, it was very happy with whatever Mr. IK fed it. I mean, it went tree beserk. And now your hostess is awash in lemons.

A lemon glut is what well-meaning and perhaps sanctimonious types call a first-world problem. These types are not wrong. But a person can preserve only so many lemons.

Enter lemon cake.

You’d think there would be a zillion lemon cake recipes in the world. There are not. Trust me on this. Lemon desserts, yes. Billions and billions, as our friend Carl Sagan once said in another context.

But we’re talking lemon cake, as in, the particular sadness of. (I’m sorry, I had to work that in.)

Yours truly was on the hunt for a certain type of a lemon cake. A breakfasty cake.

By “breakfasty” I mean a lemon cake without fussy toppings. A cake that freezes willingly and doesn’t throw a hissy about defrosting. A cake that won’t develop ice crystals or go soggy in the freezer. A cake I can feed to my husband and his caregiver, who shows up three mornings a week at the crack of dawn. A person who does that deserves a decent piece of lemon cake.

Meet the star of our post, a lemon cake with almond flour. The original recipe comes from Shanna Masters, a longtime contributor to the San Francisco Chronicle. Her recipe for lemon polenta pound cake appears in San Francisco Chronicle Cookbook, volume 1. My take departs significantly from the original, but I believe in giving credit where it is due.

This recipe requires beating both the egg whites and yolks with sugar. Performing said operation requires a stand mixer, handheld electric beaters, or both. Many recipe writers blithely assume all bakers have both. For years I had neither. I’m now using a mixer on its last legs and the beater attachment for my stick blender. So long as you possess one electric appliance capable of beating air into eggs, you can bake this lemon cake. The recipe is takes this into account.

If you cannot afford a stand mixer, stick blenders with beater attachments make excellent stand-ins. Mine cost $50.

Having nattered on crazily and at length, I should tell you lemon pound cake with almond flour keeps amazingly well at room temperature and does indeed freeze well. It may be eaten plain, with confectioner’s sugar, alongside ice cream, or served with lemon curd, creme fraiche, or fruit.

 

 

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