The Romance-Enticing Cake

Generally, I’m a savory girl. I’m sweet enough without putting sugar in my tea and I’d always take steak over cake. This recipe, however, is something else. Handed down the Lawford family generations, this is the kind of cake that you can take to a party where you don’t know anyone and leave with several marriage proposals.

This is a disarmingly charming dish for the eater and for the baker: it is your best friend. Over the years I have tried really, really hard, but it is impossible to mess this recipe up. Pretty much every ingredient can be substituted without upsetting the cosmic balance. Eggs can be forgotten completely; I can char it to a crisp but no one will notice after I’ve chipped off the carbon; even served as a kind of cake soup it can be called a love potion.

Moreover, it’s cheap and straight forward. Firstly, mix the following together:

6.5 oz plain flour
5 oz caster sugar
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 tsp baking powder
2 tbsp cocoa powder
2 tbsp golden syrup

I normally go heavy on the cocoa and the golden syrup, but whatever floats your boat.

Next, beat two eggs and fold them slowly into the mixture before stirring in ¼ pint milk and ¼ pint sunflower oil.

Ideally, split this in between 2 baking tins and cook for 20-25 minutes at 350 degrees until you can stick a knife in it which will come out clean. Cooking in one tin works fine but it will be a little gooier and may sink in the middle. Using a dodgy student oven, this is generally what happens when I make this at university rather than with mother dearest’s fancy thing with a fan.

Fortunately, the frosting will draw a delicious veil over whatever happens. To make this:

Dissolve a teaspoon of coffee (avoidable if you’re not that way inclined, but it doesn’t come out too strong) into two tablespoon’s worth of boiling water. Start with 3 or 4 ounces of butter, 4 ounces of icing sugar and a couple of spoonfuls of cocoa and mix everything together with a fork, adding more of each as suits your taste. If the mixture gets too stiff, add another teaspoon of hot water. The result should be something smooth and chocolatey.

When the cake has cooled, either make a frosting sandwich or coat the entire thing. Things can be added such as more chocolate, or a layer of peanut butter in the middle.

Now, I’d say that if you don’t like chocolate cake, we perhaps aren’t going to be great friends. This recipe will, however, adapt for you – it’s even nicer than me. To make it citrus, for example, trade the cocoa powder for lemon/orange zest and juice in both the main mixture and the frosting (and take out the coffee). It also makes great cupcakes – requires only 10 minutes in the oven.

It’s the oil and the golden syrup that are the keys to its success, I think – everything else can be changed around. I’d rather not break it down so scientifically though, I much prefer to imagine it as a kind of edible Cupid.

Melissa Lawford