In the wider scheme of the cosmos this story is probably as microcosmic as they come, but hey, it’s a story nonetheless and ends with this pretty damn fine cake. The other day I bought some sultana grapes, tiny little jewels bursting with juice and ready to be gorged by the kids as an after school snack. Before they devoured the lot my lovely other half said,
“why don’t you dry them out to make sultanas?” – there’s a thought I thought – I’ve never done that before.
I’ve seen great documentaries of owners of coffee and cacao plantations drying out their beans and pods in the wonderful South American sunshine, so why not do that with a handful of grapes in this glorious antipodean sunshine – looks easy enough and it is still summer here. Well, it was not as straightforward as I first thought – there was this strange occurrence of the sun moving around throughout the day. A tad inconsiderate of the chap who’s ‘got his hat on (hip hip hip hooray) and he’s coming out to play’ – he wasn’t half dicking around with those shadows. Every time I placed the tray of grapes in one sunny spot, 20 minutes later it was in darkness. All in all after daily movements to every nook and cranny of the garden to get the most sun possible, the drying, which was supposed to take 2-3 days, took 2 weeks. And every night I brought the raisins inside there was always some surprise, usually in the form of the rather handy little jumping spiders. But bloody hell, when those sultanas were ready they were absolutely magnificent – little balls of sweet grapey loveliness.
Just before last Christmas I got this little Bundt pan; it’s a fluted ringed baking tin that makes a cake look a little more elegant than your average boy racer. I had used it once – did a belting candied orange Christmas wreath cake – and have been wanting to use it ever since. So, please make a bow and entrance for some freshly dried sultana grapes macerated in Calvados, that apple brandy that adds stunning flavour to all kinds of cooking. These hiccuping sultanas now formed the base flavour for my second Bundt cake. Next, I set about developing the cake recipe. If you can get to grips with the concept that there are dry components (flour and raising agents), wet components (milk, buttermilk or yoghurt and eggs), fat (butter or oil) and sugar, along with any other flavours and additions, then you can set about creating the cake of your dreams. I wanted a fairly dark coloured cake therefore used a combination of refined sugar and unrefined light and dark sugars (muscovado). I added a nice tart apple, some Chinese five-spice powder and a little ground cinnamon, perfect foils for the sultanas and Calvados. And to enhance the flavour post baking, a glug of Calvados was drizzled on the warm cake to add a wonderful comforting boozy nuance (only a nuance, just enough for the kids to sleep).
