Jasmine and coconut summer fruit cake
Monday, June 14, 2010 at 6:32PM 
I woke up outrageously early yesterday morning, drawn out of sleep by the 4am dawn light, and somehow unable to get the thought of a moist, golden, fragrant fruit cake out of mind.
I blame the packet of dried pineapple that's lain open on my kitchen side for the last couple of weeks, too chewy for its intended use as a dessert topping. But in actual fact, the hankering probably goes back further than that, to a large packet of champagne-yellow sultanas that I found myself admiring in a local grocery store several weeks ago. A variety I haven't seen before, each one was tiny, almost perfectly round and much paler than usual. Like a shower of golden raindrops. Or a stash of citrine gemstones.
Citrine quartz
Momentarily transfixed, I was transported out of Glasgow's Roots & Fruits to a tropical beach, soft sand underfoot, sun-filtered droplets of rain pattering on my skin. Next, to an Indian wedding, golden confetti sailing thought the air amid a noisy swirl of joyful smiles, fluttering hands and colourful robes moving in time to Bhangra beats.
Initially planted by those beautiful sultanas and nurtured by pineapple, summer fruit cake took final root with a batch of particularly plump dried apricots, dark, sweet and so moist that their insides oozed like paste.
Having woken to thoughts of cake, I accepted my sweet destiny whereupon my attention turned to how to soak the dried fruit to plump it up, especially that leathery old pineapple. Brandy? No, too Chistmassy. Rum? Not dark. White? Yes, that would work. However, the promise of a bright, warm summer's day called for something lighter, more appropriate to the season. Jasmine tea I wondered? Mmm, definitely worth exploring. Jasmine combined with coconut and lime zest? Greedy anticipation of those sensual, tropical bouquets tipped me out of bed.
So, like a sleepy creature emerging from its lair, lured by the light and a millenia-old instinct to stock up on summer plenty, I stumbled through to the kitchen. After preparing a simple vegetable stew for dinner - enlivened by the last remaining piece of spicy Goan sausage (think Indian chorizo) from last year's trip - I sat down to plan the cake's ingredients and proportions. A day's soaking, mix and bake later, here's the recipe from my initial try.
But first, another musical diversion. M.I.A's Paper Planes. The sound of my Goan holiday, because I was listening to it a lot at the time and because it featured on the soundtrack to Slumdog Millionaire, which I saw the night before leaving.
Ingredients
225g dried pineapple, unsulphured apricots and sultanas (I used 90g pineapple because that's what I had left in the bag, 80g apricots and 55g sultanas)
2 jasmine tea bags, the best quality you can get hold of (I bought Good Earth and was impressed by them)
2oz/56g unsalted butter, at room temperature
1oz/28g creamed coconut, grated finely (use the finest side of your grater)
3oz/84g golden caster sugar
1 large egg, I used a duck egg because I had one that needed to be used up. Weighing in at 74g with its shell, you may need to use two smaller hen eggs for equivalent weight.
3oz/84g plain flour, sifted
the zest of two thirds of a lime
Method
Pour 250ml of boiling water over the tea bags and leave to infuse for 5-7 minutes (or according to the packet instructions) until intensely flavoured. Don't leave much longer though or the green tea will develop a bitter taste. Once the tea bags are removed you should be left with about 200ml of liquid.
Meantime, quarter the apricots and, if necessary, cut or tear the pineapple into bite-sized pieces. Place the chopped fruit and whole sultanas into a glass bowl, pour over 200ml of the hot tea, stir well and cover with cling film. Set aside for 24 hours, stirring two or three times to moisten the fruit at the top of the bowl.
Grease a four-inch/11cm square cake tin and line with baking parchment, cutting the sides so that they extend an inch or so above the top of the tin. Preheat the oven to 170°C. Zest the lime and set out the rest of the ingredients.
Place the softened butter, grated coconut and sugar in a medium-large sized mixing bowl. Beat with an electric mixer until pale, light and fluffy, approximately five minutes. Beat the egg and add in three or four lots, beating well to combine after each addition. Carefully fold in the sifted flour, again in three or four lots, mixing each addition until it is thoroughly incorporated. Finally fold in the soaked fruit and lime zest, using a spatula to gather in the batter on the sides of the bowl.
Transfer the mixture to the prepared tin. Place on a baking tray and cover with a large sheet of baking parchment, folded twice to give four layers in thickness. This extra weight will prevent the top of the cake from burning before the inside is cooked, and from the paper flying off with the currents of air from a fan oven.
Bake for two to two and a half hours. The cake is done when it is a deep golden on top and a skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean. Allow to cool in the tin. Can be eaten immediately - I did, I have been waiting since 4am yesterday morning after all! But it's probably best wrapped in greaseproof paper then tin foil and stored in a tin for a few days for the flavours to meld.
In order to oomph up the taste of jasmine and coconut, next time I plan to use jasmine essence instead of tea and half/half creamed coconut and butter (1½oz/42g each). Whilst I really enjoyed the almost puddingy moistness, I may also try reducing the soaking liquid (100-150ml) to give a more traditional cake texture... Or reducing the batter to 2oz fats (1oz each of butter and creamed coconut), 2oz sugar, 2oz flour...
I'll keep you posted, but please don't let my farting about stop you from enjoying it meantime because it is delicious just as it is! Literally bursting with summer scents and sticky, ripe juiciness.
Reflecting on its puddingy texture, my departing thought is how it would turn out if steamed in a bowl to create a steamed pudding...
Reader Comments (3)
I love this post. The cake looks delicious. The color is beautiful and the analogies to rain drops and gemstones is perfect.
The next thing that made me smile is the inclusion of Indian film links. Having lived in Bangalore I have this fondness for Bollywood flicks. I love the over the top singing and dancing and the exuberance and colors in the movies is unmatched anywhere. Slumdog was the best movie I've seen in years and while I'm not one to watch movies over and over, this post has made me want to watch again and to get online and see what new Bollywood titles are out there.
Of course, being in the midst of World Cup, it's probably time to watch Bend it Like Beckham again. That soundtrack is awesome as well.
Oh, and while I'm thinking of it ... I've really never had much fruitcake, but in Bangalore I was living in a hotel for a month or so and I frequented their restaurants once I moved into my own apartment. I made friends with many on the staff in the restaurants and bars and was invited to help put together their annual holiday fruitcake with some of my team. We put the fruits into a strong mixture of rum or something much stronger and put gloves on and got to mix and mix and mix it all up. There it sat for a month until they were ready to bake the cakes.
It was a lot of fun. I was dressed in a beautiful bright orange silk salwar and with a big smile on my face got my hands in the stuff and came away with fun memories.
Fran, thanks so much for the really positive feedback. Your comments absolutely made my day when I read them! :-)) Particularly thrilled that the piece brought back such wonderful memories of your time in Bangalore - the vivid colours, welcoming people, fun and celebration. Hmmm, is making me want to get back to India very soon... sigh. Hope you get a chance to try your hand at the cake - I ate the last remaining bit a few days after writing this post and realised that the recipe is just great as it is. Sonnda ps have never seen Bend it Like Beckham, must see soon.
I have tried this cake, in fact I have eaten an entire one all to myself. Tasted bloody amazing, not like most fruit cakes which are either too soggy or too grainy and dry, this one was spot on. The initial impression was of a true fruitcake but then the special stuff comes through, eeeekkk, you gonna end up eating it all in one hit. Now that would have been just plain greedy so I did it in two. If only all cakes were like this, magic.