Name: Citrus Cake with Candied Oranges
Prep time: 20 min
Cook time: 50 min
Total time: 70 min
Ingredients: 2 cups flour; 4 teaspoons baking powder; ½ teaspoon salt; ¼ teaspoon nutmeg; 4 eggs; 1 cup sugar; 1/2 cup vegetable oil; 1 cup yogurt; Juice of 1 lemon and 1 orange ((reserve 2 tbsp of each for the syrup)); Zest of the lemon and the orange; 1 teaspoon vanilla; 1 tablespoon orange liqueur ((optional)); 2 tbsp lemon juice; 2 tbsp orange juice ((you can also replace 1 tablespoon of juice with a tablespoon of orange liqueur)); 2 tbsp sugar; 1/2 orange ((sliced)); 1/4 cup water; 1/4 cup sugar

As many of you have probably guessed, I love using fruit and/or vegetables in my baking, whether it’s in this Apple Cinnamon Coffee Cake, these heavenly Dark Chocolate Pumpkin Scones, my personal favorite–Peach Pie, or even these tragically failed blackberry squares. It’s my way of clinging to some last vestiges of healthiness and nutritional value whilst I whisk together copious amounts of butter and sugar. But amidst all the latent denial and bargaining (*if I cut it down to ONE cup of sugar, then I can add these chocolate chips!*), I just love fruit desserts in general. And out of all the delightful and delicious fruits out there, ready to be mixed into batters and thrown violently into a hot oven, citrus fruits are some of the best for baking. And so–inspired by this Blood Orange Loaf Cake from Annie’s Eats and the lovely oranges available at the market, I set out for my own slice of citrus-y, cakey heaven.

For some reason, I always think of oranges as a summery kind of fruit. It guess because they’re grown out in California or Florida, where it’s always warm and beachy and not at all bitingly cold and windy, as Beijing is right now. But they are, of course, in season in the colder months, and that’s just as well, because biting into an orange can transport you somewhere warm and sunny in the middle of a dark gray winter. If you’re prone to seasonal affective disorder, turn on your happy light and shine it on yourself while having a slice of this citrus cake. The addition of the cake hasn’t been clinically proven to help, but it couldn’t hurt.

Recipe Instructions

Start by greasing and flouring a loaf pan. Don’t be tempted, as I have, to blow past this step and then accidentally pour your lovely batter into a bone-dry loaf pan and cry later when it’s hopelessly stuck and you have to scoop cake out with a spoon. It’s happened to me WAY too many times in my clumsy baking career, and the buck stops here! Preheat your oven to 350 degrees (I’ve forgotten to do this too. It leads to a lot of agonizing and otherwise unnecessary waiting for your faulty gas oven to kick into gear). In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, and nutmeg.

Beat eggs and sugar in another large bowl until well combined. Gradually beat in the oil. Stir in the yogurt, citrus juice, zest, vanilla, and orange liqueur (if using). Let me just pause right here to profess my love for the invention that is the microplane, in its varied forms. We have the classic microplane at home in NJ, and this other model–same brand, slightly different shape–here in Beijing. It is a multi-tasking, life-affirming kitchen juggernaut. NOTHING zests citrus, grates cheese, or shaves nutmeg the same way. A few years ago, I was like, “What the HECK is a microplane? Some new-fangled kitchen gadget that’ll gather dust in the junk drawer? I don’t need a microplane like I don’t need a caper strainer, an avocado slicer, corn cob holders, or a strawberry-stem-remover. Stop trying to take my moneyyy!!!” I was wrong. About the microplane. The caper strainer, avocado slicer, corn cob holders, and strawberry-stem remover, on the other hand, are all totally useless.

Fold the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients. Make sure to scrape the sides of the bowl. Don’t over-mix, or you’ll have a gummy cake…and “gummy” is an adjective reserved only for bears, worms, vitamins, and the mucosal tissue over the mandible and maxilla inside your mouth.

If I haven’t put you off your cake with all that, pour your batter into your GREASED AND FLOURED pan. (there was my second and final reminder, for all you procrastinators out there. Group hug!)

Bake for about 45 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. Save the toothpick for use later! When the cake is out of the oven, make the syrup by combining the lemon juice, orange juice, and sugar in a small saucepan over medium heat. Keep stirring until the sugar is dissolved. Carefully remove the warm cake from the pan and move to a serving plate, poke the top with your leftover toothpick, and carefully pour the syrup over the top.

To make the candied orange slices, thoroughly wash and dry an orange. These are all soooo good right now. I love orange season.

Cut the orange in half lengthwise, and use a very sharp knife to make very thin, even slices.

Cut each of those slices in half.

Combine the sugar and water in your medium saucepan and heat the mixture until the sugar dissolves to make a simple syrup. Add the orange slices, reduce the heat to medium low, and simmer for 20 minutes, swirling the slices around occasionally.