How to kill your job and bake a cake

There was a time when you thought you’d be prancing around in an orange orchard in Seville, in super slo-mo, wearing a pretty white dress and breathing in the air and sighing with pleasure at the ripe scent and the heady blue of a clear sky. Of course you’ve never actually been to Seville. Remember, in that little dream sequence you were also slim. And you certainly did not have violent thoughts about anything. Now you just want to kill something or someone, preferably your job if it were alive. Nay, you want to punch it in the face and then when it is lying on the floor helpless like a wet mop, you want to stomp on it wearing 7-inch stilettoes, then strangle it, poison it, stab it, hang it and then throw it down an old chimney in Timbuktu. You know you need a new job when this happens. Also when the word ‘orange’ makes you think of a telecom company. Yes, I know. It’s just me. I have deep psychological issues because I’ve decided to name my future son or daughter EBITDA. They’re not that deep these issues, obviously, because my husband and a few close friends know about this plan.

So I sit here and grump while violent thoughts race through my head in maniacal glee. Maybe I smile crookedly revealing my madness because I see the one and only husband giving me a most intense side-eye. I ignore him until he acquiesces to bake a cake.

Atypically, we have fruits at home. Three kinds even. As I’m feeling deeply acerbic, I decide it’s going to be a zesty orange cake. This recipe is simple enough to give chefs a mild coronary. I do everything wrong, but somehow, against all odds, it turns out absolutely  I-have-to-finish-you-off-in-the-next-five-minutes good. Or maybe our palate lacks sophistication.

Orange cake:

The zest of 2 oranges

1 cup flour
1 cup sugar (I don’t even use caster sugar – I hear Marco Pierre White dying in the distance)
1tsp baking powder
3 eggs (no separating-sheparating – and I hear even the mild-mannered Rachel Allen dying in the distance)
100gm butter (I don’t even use unsalted – all bakers around the world die in the distance…and nearby. In fact my thrice-removed, twice-dead maternal grandmother dies again)
Cinnamon ground
Vanilla – the real deal –extract from  one pod
Toasted pumpkin seeds

Whisk the eggs, add the zest and the vanilla and whisk some more, add the melted butter (keep stirring vigorously to avoid making scrambled eggs), add the sugar and whisk till your arms fall off, pick up your arms and add the ground cinnamon, then fold in the flour, and transfer to a greased baking dish of your choice. Sprinkle the toasted pumpkin seeds on. Preheat your oven to a 180 degrees and bake the cake till it has risen nicely. Use a knife to test it’s done.

Keep your eyes peeled – husband and I were watching it with parental trepidation – will it, won’t it, will it, won’t it….rise?

It did.

We’re very proud.