all the orange


I get by, is probably the best way to describe my Italian. Occasionally I might think I get by very well, but then I trip over a word or tense and see the confusion in the other persons eyes, or someone flips the conversation into English, which always feels like defeat. ‘Da quanto tempo stai qua?‘ How long have you been here? came up in the middle of an awkward conversation the other day. It crossed my mind to lie, but I didn’t, and said nearly 10 years, to which the persons eyebrows seemed to reply oh dear. I responded to the eyebrows with a long, complicated sentence that gave me a headache, but meant I redeemed myself. ‘Dai, parli abbastanza bene italiano!’ I was told. Which means something like, go on you speak pretty good Italian.

Luca is not so convinced. When I asked for ‘Due kili di arance‘ at the market last week my three-year old half English, half Italian son, who I am watching juggle two languages with admiration and envy, looked up at me and pinched his fingers like an Italian. ‘No mum, arance’. ‘Arance‘ I repeated. ‘No, arance’ he said slowly opening his mouth so wide I could see he needs a filling. Shit I thought, but said arance, agitated about the dental neglect and having my pronunciation challenged by a three-year old. We bounced the word back and forth like a ball, half playful, half deadly serious until Luca held his little palm taut’. Mum, just say orange’.


Oranges had been good this year, especially the tarocco from Sicily, heavy things for their size with shiny leaves and dusty-orange skins some of which are flushed slightly with ruddy pink. Not that this flush is a guarantee of the flesh inside. Even though they are blood oranges, they might not be bloody. Each orange is a surprise, anything from yellowy-orange to bleeding scarlet. I like the surprise. I also like the way the natural oil in the zest sprays as you tear the peel –  if you bring a flame close it crackles like a sparkler –  and the flesh, firm and sweet.

A good year and the steady steam of illness Luca has been bringing back from school along with drawings and other children’s toys, means we have been eating a lot of oranges. There is juice every morning, so a permanently sticky counter and floor. We’ve been eating orange and fennel salad, sliced oranges with mint and dates and the lentil and orange salad I wrote about the other week. On a roll, I opened Jane Grigson’s Fruit book in search of new ideas and recipes. Damn, her writing make me happy, the way she weaves together history, etymology, geography, poetry and humour is simply extraordinary. I particularly enjoyed reading her description of the migration of oranges from China through India to Persia before they were brought to europe along with spices, silk and sugar by Arab traders at the end of the Roman empire. The evolution of the name it just as engaging, from the Dravidian indian, narayam, which means perfume within, to the Persian narandj, Spanish naranja, Portuguese laranja, which the Italians softened to arancia and the French and English, orange. Luca slips effortlessly between orange and arancia depending on who he is talking too. To me he says orange.


Jane Grigson not only makes me want to read-on and on (the chapters on pears, plums and quince are superb) she makes me want to cook. From the orange chapter I’ve made her Maltese mayonnaise, which is simply mayonnaise sharpened with orange instead of lemon, and her carrot and orange soup, both surprising and excellent. Although not her recipe, it was her description of cheerful marmalade eaten in France that sent me on my marmalade-making way last week and her description of orange in cakes that made me pull Claudia Roden’s Book of Middle Eastern food from the shelf.

Do you know the recipe? The one where you take two oranges, boil them whole, pulp them, mix the pulp with eggs, ground almonds, sugar and baking powder and then bake the batter until it sets into a cake. CR describes it as somewhere between a cake and a pudding, which is the perfect description. The use of the whole orange, meaning all of it: skin, zest,  pith, flesh, feels nothing short of brilliant. Once boiled (for a long time which makes the kitchen smell gorgeous) and pulped, you have an extraordinary mixture: sharp, sweet, bitter and deeply flavored. It is then tempered by the sugar, almonds and eggs but the opinionated flavor remains distinct – as do the flecks of bright orange – giving the cake a musky, almost spicy flavour. It is such a good cake/pud, especially when eaten with a dollop of thick cream. I also like it with espresso.

Claudia Roden, another favorite writer, explains how this cake has Sephardic Jewish origins, as it was one of the dishes brought to the middle east by the Spanish Jews who fled the inquisition in the 14th and 15th century. This and Jane Grigson’s enchanting orange introduction had me wishing I’d been told about the migration of citrus and cakes at school, it would have been much more helpful that the dreary things we were taught in geography and history lessons. The cake also had me wishing for another land of blazing oranges and almonds, Sicily, and the house of Vincenzo’s grandparents that is sitting empty, waiting to be visited, lived in for a while even. But we can’t think about that yet. For now we will make do with cake made with sicilian oranges or arance (depending on who you are talking too).


Claudia Roden’s Orange and Almond cake

From Claudia Roden’s Book of Middle Eastern food.

A loose-bottomed cake tin make things a whole lot easier. I use one of those John Lewis Anodised satin tins I pinched from my mum, it is 18 cm across, deep and works really well.

  • 1 large orange weighing approximately 350 g (or 2 smaller ones)
  • 6 free range eggs
  • 250 g ground almonds
  • 250 g granulated sugar
  • 1 heaped tsp baking powder
  • butter and flour/breadcrumbs or matzo meal for the tin

Wash the orange(s), put it in a pan, cover with cold water, bring to the boil and then reduce to a simmer for an hour and a half or until it is extremely soft when picked with a fork. Remove the orange from the pan, let it cool, then cut it open and remove any pips. Turn the orange into a pulp by pressing it through a sieve, mouli or by using a blender – I use my faithful stick immersion blender.

Prepare a cake tin – ideally with a loose base – by rubbing it with butter and then dusting it with flour. Set the oven to 190° / 370F.

Beat the eggs in a large bowl, add the pulped orange, beat again, then add the almonds, sugar and baking powder and beat again until you have a thick, even batter. Pour the battle into the tin and bake for between 40 – 60 minutes. Have  a look at the cake after 40 minutes it should be golden and set firm, I find testing with a strand of spaghetti helps, it should come out almost clean (almost, this is a moist cake), as opposed to very sticky. If the cake does need another 10 mins I tend to drape some tin foil over to prevent it from getting too brown. Let it cool in the tin before turning it onto a plate.


We might not be thinking of going to the family house in Sicily quite yet, but I will be in Sicily from the 15 – 20th June with Fabrizia Lanza and Luisa Weiss for a week of food writing and cooking at the Anna Tasca Lanza Cooking school and we would love you to come too. Now of course it is in my interests to convince you to come, and I know it is a big commitment (that said rates of exchange are in our favour and flights too) but it is going to be extraordinary, beautiful, delicious and perspective changing week, I promise. The details are on The Anna Tanza Lanza web site, you can read my post about Sicily, also Melissa’s and Bea’s with her stunning pictures. If you would like to e-mail to ask me anything about the week, pls do. – R



Filed under almonds, bitter oranges, cakes and baking, Fabrizia Lanza, oranges, rachel eats Italy, Sicily

99 responses to “all the orange

  1. I can vouch for this cake. Yum, as we used to say before someone invented nom.

  2. Ha, you keep teasing me with details of your course. You have done this cake before because I have found myself searching for it here, I am sure of it. I love this cake and I am jealous of your blood oranges. They are a rare breed in Shropshire I can tell you. Off to the big smoke for a few days though so I may smuggle some back, don’t tell Mr OC, as he will be the one carrying the suitcase on and off and on and off the train. How exciting about Vincenzo’s family house in Sicily. x

    • rachel

      I have, the clementine versions, which I have made for ages – good reminder. Sorry about all the course teasing – publicity is a whole new world, and one I want to be careful with here. Learning curve. Hope you had a lovely few days xx

  3. Oh and I forgot to comment about Luca, you have my sympathy, my youngest is shocked, shocked I tell you, about my lack of knowledge of the neolithic period.

  4. Oh, I do love cookery books you can read for pleasure. Diana Henry is one, and Nigel Slater another. It helps that their recipes too are always worth eating. And yum to today’s offering from you, of course.

    • rachel

      I agree about NS and DH (I came to her relatively recently), lovely engaging writing and good solid recipes. Rx

  5. Judy

    Questions. Do I use the orange rind and the fruit? Pips are seeds? What about the orange segment membranes? Can’t wait to bake this! Many thanks.

    • rachel

      Hi Judy, yes you use the whole fruit, peel, pithy flesh. the only thing you need to get rid of are the pips (seeds) which you can scoop out when the orange is very soft.

  6. I understand you, it is so frustrating when I try to pronounce correctly in German and I (still) don’t get it (10 years in Austria here!).
    I’m happy that here in Vienna I can buy some tarocco at my fruitmonger, but boy, are they heavy! 3 pieces weight over a kilo!!!

    • rachel

      I am glad to know I am not the only one. The Tarocco are extraordinarily heavy, in fact just one is more than enough. x

  7. Lovely sentiment, and I can’t wait to try what I am sure is a lovely cake. Thank you for the story! All my best to batman 🙂

  8. Julie

    Do you boil the orange with skin on? So you use the skin in the cake?

    • Maeve Heneke

      Yes, you do. When the oranges are very soft, cut them open, remove the pips and blend/blitz the rest into a pulp -skin, flesh and membrane. I add a few drops of rose water to the mixture and serve the cake with soured cream rather than cream. This cake is truly delicious -do try it. Any reservations you may have about orange skin will disappear with the first mouthful!

  9. That parley with Luca in the market made me laugh out loud as I can imagine the scenario perfectly, with audio. Can’t wait for all of you + Sicily. xo

  10. Jess

    Ah, Rachel, I love the way you write. Thank you for this lovely read this morning. Have you read John McPhee’s Oranges?

  11. Ale

    Hi Rachel! As an Italian living in the US – and raising bilingual children here – I can totally relate.

  12. Scott

    The great Australian chef Stephanie Alexander has a really good version of this cake where you chuck the whole lot in the food processor. I love it.

  13. I’m a particular fan of the little poem that goes along with the orange section of her book:

    “The oranges of the Island are like blazing fire
    Amongst the emerald boughs
    And the lemons are like the paleness of a lover
    Who has spent the night crying…”

    I think learning a new language from children is the best. No mercy!

  14. T

    I would dearly love to visit Italy again, but alas Australia is just too damn far away 😦 Thanks for this recipe, will make it this weekend!

  15. It’s so funny, R. As I was told today that the season for blood oranges is soon coming to an end due to excessive rain, I thought to myself – I must make the almon orange cake before they go for good. I emailed Jesse and said ‘we must make that cake this weekend and write about it’, to which he replied we will need more eggs and well, more oranges. I have made it countless times and it is hands down one of my favourite cakes exactly for the reasons you describe so well – the complexity of flavour and the subtle bitterness… Reading your lovely words and story makes me want to bake it tomorrow, as the weekend feels too far away still, and when it comes to good things I get impatient. x

    • rachel

      It sounds like we are in orange sync, which is nice, how you did/do make your cake and eat it, see you soon xox

  16. Devon

    My two year old pooped in the bath today, which makes you feel about the same as a filing and a pronunciation lesson. I’m trying to recover with a glass of wine and a pot of boiling potatoes while I stir the chard. Your writing helps a lot too. Thanks.

  17. Katie

    This entry made me chuckle. Partially because my now 9 year old son said to his friend in the back seat of our car just last week, “excuse my mom, she’s from New York she says roof.” He then told the the awfully way he says roof in this flat Chicago accent. Ugh! Is raising kids in a place not where you’re from strange? I lived in Dpain for a while (swooning over the memory). And I remember that feeling of ups and downs with Spanish. Some days I’d manage it all and the next day a clerk in the Corte Inglés would just start speaking to me in English as if I were incapable of the spanish completely.

    • rachel

      I am now wondering about roof and roof with different accents, t is probably rather like arance and arance…It is strange and wonderful and strange bring a child up in another country.. and I am sure will get more so as Luca gets more and more Italian and I remain english. Thanks for comment, it is lovely to have you reading along x

  18. Can’t wait to try this recipe, Rachel. It looks delicious!

  19. Just yesterday morning I was going through one of my loose-leaf books of recipes, and I found the copy I made of this from Claudia Roden’s book because, I believe (not sure about this), when she updated the book, this wasn’t in the new one. I have not made it yet, but finding it twice yesterday makes it providential that I do pretty soon. I really love just about anything “scented” with orange.

    I was so jealous reading your marmalade post; it is very rare that Seville oranges are available in the U.S. At least that’s been my experience. The first time I found them at Fairway Market in NYC, I snagged a bunch and went straight to Nigella’s How to Eat and found a recipe for Seville orange curd – HIGHLY recommended.

    In terms of writing, Jane Grigson’s got nothing on you; this post is simply splendid. I love hearing about Luca’s proficiency in two languages; I imagine he speaks English with a British accent!

    • rachel

      You are too kind and yes to the curd and yes to luca’s little brit english. Hope all is well? You may well be moving now – to E mail xox

  20. Rachel, I can go on and on reading your posts. When I get to the last sentence I feel like I need to flip the page like reading a good book. In fact I can’t wait to buy your book!

    That cake…is absolutely brilliant. You made me so curious that I’m going to have to make it as soon as I get home tonight – even if it will keep me up late.

    Luca is adorable… Hey mom, just say orange 🙂

    See you on instagram ❤

    • rachel

      Hi E, what a lovely message to find, I am so glad we met over there and now here. lets have coffee one day soon xx

  21. In a few years that will be me, with a little french/english bilingual toddler running around my ankles… Kids are such show offs. HAHA

  22. I have a feeling you are absolutely not a microwave sort of person, but if you are pressed for time: prick oranges and microwave in a bowl covered in clingfilm for 8 minutes on high.

    And as for your Italian – I dream of the day when someone won’t say “tu parles bien francais!” in a sweetly patronising way but instead, oh, you aren’t French? I thought you were! (It happened once at a wedding, but the red wine negated the truth of the statement, I think.) I will always be British and I think it will always show, if not in my accent then in my tea preferences.

    Lovely post as always. Made me want to try the cake again. Or run out for some oranges. Have you ever tried Cara caras? They are a sort of sunset pink on the inside, and taste better than sweets.

    • rachel

      I don’t have a microwave, but If i did I would be doing this – genius, thanks F. Cara cara, I love the name and now need to seek them out before this wonderful season for oranges finishes. Hope you are well ? x

  23. Eha

    The Luca story has made me laugh and remember. My oldest grandson was four when his father put in my first ever computer and briefly explained how to find all the info. Had to leave us for a few minutes, put some sort of computer game on, placed Justin whom I had not seen since babyhood in my lap and said ‘try’!! Game simple, grandmother generally no fool, one grandson increasingly puzzled at my perceived slowness! ‘Granma!!!!’ ‘It goes like that’ and the tiny fingers just ran over the keys and the game was solved and over just as Dad walked in – ‘How did you go’ . . .my little GS slipped off my lap making a wave motion with his small hand ‘Oh, Granma stup . . . too slow for me . . .boring!’ . . ! [OK: both parents IT specialists!]

    • rachel

      Ha. oh grandma…..Luca already know how to do things on my phone I had no idea you could do, his little (often sticky) fingers, scrolling like a pro. Hope you are well? xxx

  24. You make me want to leave everything I have and go to Italy.

  25. Hi Rach, like Kath, (ordinary cook) I remember the post from long ago: the clementine cake, made in similar fashion. superb and simple. I love the economy of it–using the whole fruit. Now, I need to manifest many $$$ and come to Sicily in June. xN

    • rachel

      Hi N and yes, the clementine one. I love the economy of it too, and the smell rushing around the kitchen. You need to come hand see just us, when we get the house sorted, load of love xx

  26. FJ

    I was very amused (and a little bit freaked out) as I have been doing the same trawl you’ve been doing, through the same cook books to find recipes for my 15 kilos of oranges! Made the marmalade relatively successfully (with a bit less sugar) , had already made Claudia Roden’s cake before I read your post. (Have also frozen some of it..what do you think? Will it be a mushy heap when defrosted??) And then made a St Clemens cake from Leiths baking bible….kind of a cross between a cheesecake and a lemon tart but with orange. Very tasty! Would recommend it if you haven’t tried it before.
    And just to finish off on the theme of life imitating your blog( did say I was a bit freaked out!!) I have recently found myself also telling small lies about the number of years i have lived in Italy to cover for my crap Italian…though I suspect mine is much worse that yours……

    • rachel

      Oh That Leith’s cake sounds lovely – noted – and I love our orange syncronicity….I hope you managed to process the whole lots into wonderful things. x

  27. Lovely story behind the oranges shopping, you must be very proud of your son’bi-lingual skills….

  28. Just made this cake and I managed to carbonise the “exterior” but if you take out the crust its totally yummy. Was it my oven? The tin? I did put foil on top but it was too late. Any help anyone? It’s really burnt!

    Rachel I adore your blog. Visited Testaccio on my last trip to Rome and proceeded to fangirl the hell out of it (my boyfriends puzzlement was endless)

    • rachel

      HI Sara, and I am sorry to hear about the carbonizing. So some investigating. At what point did you put the foil on the top? Is you oven fan assisted? How long was it in for Rx

  29. It is fan assisted. I put the foil on about 25 minutes in but it was already pretty brown. It took maybe 60 minutes for the cake to be cooked on the inside but burnt on the outside all around. Not just the top but the sides and bottom as well. Having it right now for breakfast and it is even bettter than yesterday! I just cut off the burnt part and it’s moist and perfectly, evenly cooked. Weird. I will try again next week since it is disappearing FAST.

    • rachel

      sorry to take so long, I think the oven should be lower, say 165° in a fan assisted oven, which mean you probably won’t need foil and it will need longer. keep and eye on it x

  30. lexie

    Ive been combing your instagram and blog for about two hours now trying to find out what type of clear glassware you use! Could you let me know the name? it looks like you use it for everything! (except this post! damn!)

    • rachel

      Lexie – Hi i hope you get this reply and I sorry it has take so long. The are Duralex tumblers, the Italian brand as opposed to the french one. they are wonderful sturdy and practical. xx

  31. This is just the most interesting post. I had never heard of this cake before and cannot wait to give it a try. It has all the right stuff…simple recipe, few ingredients, citrusy and good with a cup of hot tea…no frills, yet very elegant.

    • rachel

      That is such a good way to put it, simple, citrus, no frills – I think i have a good idea of cake you like – yes this is one for you. love and hope all is well? x

  32. Rachel! I completely understand you! I’ve lived in Buenos Aires for the past 5 years of my life, and still, I run in trouble pronouncing certain words that give away the fact that I’m not local, almost as much as my Asian face in Argentina does. Sometimes I feel so local – i know the streets and shortcuts and which restaurant has good food – and then when I pick up the phone and say hello? and person on the other line asks “where are you from?” I feel like I’ll always be a stranger looking in.

    Anyway, I love that this recipe uses ground almonds instead of typical wheat flour! My bf’s now coeliac and we can’t make normal cakes anyway (so this is great!)

    • rachel

      Hi sweet F, I hope you do try the cake, it is a lovely one. ps – yes to the stranger looking in. hope al is well? xx

  33. Pia

    I pop in here and find an Orange and Almond Cake! All I’ve baked in the last few weeks is Orange and Almond Cake; it’s even pegged away for my next post. Lovely, strange cake connections 🙂
    I love Luca’s taut-palmed corrections. There’s a lot more coming, I’m sure. I have a little girl who comes back from school with ‘drawrings’ instead of ‘drawings’.

    • rachel

      I like our cake syncronicity, it is the time of year I think, citrus cake against the winter – that said, it is not feeling much like winter here any more in Rome. hope you are all well R

  34. your tale reminded me of the “language guilt” i felt so keenly when living overseas, I would often lie about how many months I had been living there to excuse my terrible language skills. looking forward to reading your book for pleasure, as well as for the recipes, so wish I could come to Sicily as well!

    • rachel

      Language guilt and fibs – it sounds like we understand each other. I wish you could come to Sicliy – it is a massive massive commitment I know (money wise) but it is going to be so so good xox

      • just made this lovely cake and it went down a treat with the boyfriends’s family, even if it was a little black on the bottom! it was given the unbeatable compliment of “not even tasting gluten free”

  35. acookblog

    One of the first phrases I learned when I lived in France was “Je me débrouille.” It was handy for both acknowledging my limitations with the language while also slyly showing some savvy. I’m sure you do just fine.

  36. nikki

    I am a cake virgin. I kept reading and re-reading your recipe thinking yes! I could do that…no fancy equipment needed…no Kenwood brigade of attachments – just the trusty hand blender. A tin was purchased, my first cake tin ever. I cannot possibly tell you how old I am but hell it’s never too late. I’m not sure that Tesco’s oranges will have the sweetness of arance from Italia. A minor error was made initially as I tried to boil the (two) oranges in too small a pan, once they were bobbing about in a bigger bath things improved. It was easy to make, thank you Rachel for common sense instructions that a non-cook can follow. I of course ran my fingers round the remnants in the mixing bowl, hmmm, delicious. Whilst the cake was cooking a new and lovely smell filled the house. It took me back to years ago when my mother baked every week, she was definitely an experienced cake maker. It got very brown on the top at 25 minutes whilst still wobbling in the tin. I did not panic and ‘confidently’ placed foil over the embryo cake. At 50 minutes the strand of linguini (well at least I didn’t try it with tagliatelle..) came out pretty clean. My first cake is now cooling and I hope to extract it from its metal cage imminently. I am very excited!

    • rachel

      oh oh oh, how did it taste, you should be so proud? xx

      • nikki

        Thank you for asking – absolutely delicious. I did feel proud… Photos were texted to incredulous friends and family. The man pronounced it one of the best cakes he’d eaten in months. This one is going to run and run! Ah and like Sara Fdez I was using a fan oven so I will do as you suggest next time. Love your writing Rachel. X

  37. narsiszaki

    Hi Rachel I write from India, you have a way with words, really like the way you knit together everything. I will definitely try the recipe and let you know how it went. Cheers !

  38. I’m an Italian living in London that has just started blogging about food and cookery. Your lovely article about oranges has made me feel nostalgic. Like some other fruits such as figs and cachi both of which I love the ones found in London cannot be compared to those eaten in Italy. I will definitely keep visiting your blog because given that I rarely go to Italy (because I don’t like travelling very much) it’s like a window that gives me a beautiful panoramic view of the food and culture of my native country.

  39. Pingback: All the orange | rachel eats (Almond Cake) - Taste My World

  40. Thank you for reminding me about this cake, I made it with a few small tweeks and linked back to you in my post. It was a bit of a diesel in our household… had a slow start but then disappeared in a matter of days!

  41. Gabrielle

    My mum makes this cake for Passover! One of the best. She’s a wonderful mediterranean cook, like you 🙂
    I adore your writing – whenever I’m feeling despondent, I come to your blog. It makes me dream of moving to Roma. And I probably played the same tricks as Luca, on my french-challenged anglo mother when I was growing up in Paris. Thanks so much for sharing your beautiful stories!

  42. I love this cake, It’s gorgeous with a dark chocolate glaze too. Have you ever tried it with any other citrus fruit?

  43. Deborah

    I used a 9″ round pan so it was shorter and only gave the almonds a very rough grind that gave it wonderful texture. This was the truest orange flavored thing I’ve ever had. It was fantastic. For some reason mine ended up with a very thin custard layer at the bottom–I baked it on a cookie sheet in case the tart pan leaked–maybe that’s why? It was delicious, whatever it was I made! 🙂 Next I’m trying it out with lemons along with a small orange–less sweet maybe, that’s fine. Thank you for the recipe Rachel***

  44. Deborah

    Just a quick FYI: I tried this with a small orange and a lemon equal to the recipe’s weight and the microwave worked perfectly to soften both in about 10 minutes. I put the fruit is a large pyrex cup with 2 inches of water and zapped them on high, Excellent! Altho the citrus scent wasn’t quite as lingering as the simmering method!

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  46. Definitely trying this cake, our trees are full of oranges! I make a ‘ fresh orange cake’ where you pulp a whole orange, but without cooking it first – I’m pretty sure it’s from Fanny Farmer. And thinking of Luca, a simple desert my mother used to make which I did for my kids and now, for grandchildren. You just stir orange juice into Greek yogurt and beat with a whisk until it thickens again. Add a bit of sugar if too sour. Pronto!

  47. I’m definitely trying this cake, our trees are full of oranges! I make a ‘fresh orange cake’ where you pulp a whole orange, but without cooking it. Almost sure it’s from Fanny Farmer. And, thinking of Luca, a simple desert my mother used to make and which I made for my kids and now grandchildren. Just stir orange juice into Greek yogurt and whisk until thick. Add a bit of sugar if too sour. Pronto!

    • rachel

      Oranges from your trees – how wonderful, I hope you make the cake, it is a glorious one. I love the idea of the orange scented put to, yes very much luca (and my) sort of thing, thank you so much, best Rx

  48. bbedick

    Made the orange and almond cake today for company. It came out perfect, and was delicious. Served it with some creme fraiche.
    Thank you for the lovely blog post and wonderful recipe.
    Barbara (

  49. Amy

    I’m so excited for the American version of your book (though I hope the editors don’t eliminate all your British-isms – the contrast of Italy and England in your writing is wonderful.) Question about the cake: how long does it keep? Could I make it the night before I plan to serve it?

    • rachel

      Hello Amy, I don’t think there are too many changes, inside that is, the cover and name of the book are the main ones. This cake keeps beautifully, in fact it is even better the next day, the day after too, just keep it wrapped loosely in greaseproof paper.

  50. Pingback: An Orange and Almond Cake for Company - cooking the kitchen

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