About three years ago, I had a slice of James Beard's Whole Orange Almond Cake in. tiny a café in Boston for the first time and couldn’t stop thinking about it — it was creamy and rich and luscious yet it felt like a forkful of cloud.
Then I learned about Claudia Roden's Orange and Almond Cake and became completely enamored with this way of baking with whole oranges, which is, to me, what gives both these cakes their characteristic butteriness.
When talking orange cakes, I sometimes like to make the batter lighter by adding orange juice, sometimes I like to make it more fragrant by adding only the zest, that is previously rubbed to the sugar that goes in the batter.
Sometimes I soak the cake, freshly baked, with orange syrup. Sometimes I whip cream with a generous dash of orange liqueur and serve it on the side, letting my guests free to generously dollop it on top of the cake themselves.
Sometimes I slice and fill it with orange marmalade (David Lebovitz has the best recipes for citrus marmalades), and if the occasion requires a bit of adornment, with a glossy milk chocolate ganache. Sometimes I surprise myself and bake successful orange cakes in cooking competitions, too. If you give me an orange, chances are you're receiving a cake back.
This Whole Orange Bundt, specifically, is inspired by a slice I ate at a Sicilian street food shop that I casually found in Paris while exploring the Marais at night. I was waiting for a reservation at a popular bistro/bar nearby and thought it shouldn't be a problem for me to start exploring bites a little in advance. Now I think that should be my motto and I believe you wouldn't be surprised If I told you I managed to eat a bit of everything.
You can find good street food everywhere in Paris if you have an eye for it. I love street food when I travel, and I don't recall ever being let down by it, and most certainly I was not let down by this Italian choice. Plus, how could one walk by a golden vitrine of Arancini and not feel immediately maneuvered back to it?
Speaking of Arancini, their title is derived from the Italian word arancia, which means orange, due to the shape and color of the dish. The round shape of the fried rice balls resembles an orange, and the saffron used to color the rice gives it a similar orange hue.
Arancini is often fried, which gives it a crispy and golden-brown exterior to bite into. It's irresistible! It's just Italians doing what Italians do — everything a tad more delicious.
Every time I eat an arancino I think of this scene from Season 1 of Stanley Tucci: Searching for Italy when he reacklessly bites into an arancino on a boat in Sicilia. Transporting.
But back to the panozzi shop in Paris, they only served three desserts: Pistachio Tart, Torta Della Nonna, and Pan d’Arancio. I didn't think twice and picked the orange cake, craving that sweet sharpness of the oranges to refresh my mouth from the fried treat. I wish we hadn't eaten it all before I even considered taking a photo.
The slice was perfect. Perfect crumb, perfect orangey perfume, perfect bright color, and perfect almondy notes, although I couldn’t really taste any almonds. I firmly engaged in a conversation with the kind Sicilian lady that ran the place in the hopes I could steal some baking tips from her.
Thankfully, I didn't have to steal anything as she gladly disclosed that her mom's traditional recipe, from Sicily, was made with almond flour and a touch of butter. For their shop, they adapted the cake for allergies and lactose intolerance with almond extract instead and no butter at all. And the cake remained tremendously delicious!
So when I stopped by a roadside orange farm while driving back from the mountains this last Monday (we went to see the snow + eat pies! I'll tell you everything later), I knew right away I wanted to bake something that would make me feel enraptured by it.
If you'd like to feel transported, too, I wrote here my recipe for this simple and rewarding orange bundt, which I tried to adapt as close as I could to the one I had in Paris. I'm so enjoying this transporting menu, aren't you? Maybe next week we can buy together another ticket with a recipe for arancini, too?
Recipe
Whole Orange Bundt Cake, inspired by Sicilian Pan d’Arancio
12 servings
You can expect the brightness and sharpness of the oranges to showcase in this cake — think a touch of fruity bitterness. The whole oranges make it spongy and moist, and the almond extract brings that nutty intensity without the nuts. Nothing against almonds, is just good to know a cake can be as delectable without them. Without the need for dairy, too, this is a very accommodating bake.
Ingredients:
2 (300-350gr) medium oranges, preferably organic (I used seedless navel)
3 eggs, at room temperature
1 1/2 cups (300gr) of granulated sugar
1 cup (250ml) vegetable oil
1/2 tsp almond extract
2 cups (250gr) all-purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp (7gr) baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
How to make it:
Wash the oranges and place them in a pot of rolling boiling water for about 30 minutes. This step aims to remove bitterness from the oranges.
Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). Grease a 10-inch bundt pan with baking spray then sprinkle it with about 2-3 tablespoons of granulated sugar to coat the pan. This helps to prevent the cake from sticking to the pan and adds a slight crunch to the crust. Simply sprinkle the sugar evenly over the greased surface of the pan, tapping and rotating it to coat all the nooks and crannies.
Once you have fished the citruses out from the water and they have cooled down, cut them into quarters and remove seeds, if any.
In a food processor, puree the whole oranges with 1 cup of vegetable oil until it turns into a completely smooth paste, vivid yellow paste. You can also use a blender or an immersion blender.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.
In a large mixing bowl, using a hand whisk, beat the eggs and sugar together until light, fluffy, and pale yellow (about 6-8 min). They should triple in size. Add the almond extract.
To the egg and sugar mixture add the orange puree and mix to combine.
Add half of the flour mixture to the liquids and whisk just until combined, then add the rest, giving it two or three good stirs. Switch to a rubber spatula and mix it until you can't see flour anymore, scraping the sides of the bowl to ensure all the ingredients are well combined. Be careful to not overmix the batter.
Pour the batter into the prepared bundt pan and smooth the top with the spatula.
Bake for 45 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean (and your house smells of sweet orange).
Allow the cake to cool in the pan for 10-15 minutes, then invert onto a wire rack and let cool completely.
Simply dust the top of the cake with powdered sugar or serve it with a spoonful of orange marmalade, if you want to add another level of orangeness.
If you like the combo orange + chocolate, make this bundt even more elegant by adding a light glaze of dark chocolate. I recommend this recipe.
The cake can be stored in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 4 days, or in the fridge for up to a week.
Merci,
Jaíne
I made your orange cake with creme fraiche and we loved it so much, but the recipe has disappeared online, only the video remains. Any chance you could post it again? The world needs that cake!
I love citrus anything, so I bake cakes--mostly in loaf form--with oranges and lemons. In summer, I enjoy making Ina Garten's frozen key lime pie--so easy and delicious and best made ahead! I appreciate your travel stories and look forward to hearing more!