Tartine's Lemon Meringue Cake

Huh, I can't believe this is my 251st post! Thanks to all those who have tuned in.
It's already nearing the end of July, and most of my friends who sojourned to the US for residency are wrapping up their first month. I have almost no idea how they felt about it. You see, about two months ago, I decided to remove the column on Tweetdeck that updates me on people's Facebook statuses. Even though I have an (admittedly loose) policy on not comparing my life to other people's, especially not my friends', some of the updates were starting to get on my nerves.

Whether it's someone trumpeting their achievements and how life is so perfect or someone bellyaching for the lamest of reasons, I decided to call it quits. Yes, it sounds really bitter since I didn't get matched for residency last March, but to hear people who actually did get matched to fantastic hospitals under a great residency program say, "Can't I just be a bum for longer?" or "I don't want to go!!!" is terribly (though not deliberately) insulting. By all means, if the prospect of being employed in a climate where people are desperate for work is so horrible, get ready to hand over your life to someone who needs it. Vomit.

I could never ask for my life to be traded for another's. We all feel the sting of misfortune at one point or another, but to be perfectly honest after everything I've been through, I've only ever felt the mildest of pinches. While some people take their boring jobs, the houses so huge they find it inconvenient, the relationships which are just too complicated for them, the families who not only love them but can provide the thickest and fluffiest of safety nets when a tiny fraction of their lives fall apart-- all for granted, people are getting laid off, ridiculously talented and accomplished people have to endure meager salaries, and yes, there is war and hunger and oppression. Terminal illness. Loved ones lost. Loneliness and desperation. Pick a card, any card. It could all change so suddenly. While I can only hope that for all of us, the card we draw is always for the better.

I served this to my friends the week before I left for the States. It was quite a spectacle, making the frosting on the spot and torching it-- especially since one of the peaks ignited and I think they caught me blowing the flame out nonchalantly.

Lemon Meringue Cake adapted from Tartine

Chiffon Cake (follow the ingredients and instructions from the Summer Fruit Bavarian Cake post.)

Caramel

• 55g (3 tablespoons + 2 teaspoons) heavy cream
• 100g (1/2 cup) sugar
• 24g (1-1/2 tablespoons) water
• small pinch salt
• 24g (1 tablespoon) light corn syrup
• 1/2 teaspoon lemon juice
• 22g (1-1/2 tablespoons) unsalted butter

In a tiny saucepan or microwave-safe cup, bring the cream to just under a boil, stirring occasionally, and set aside, making sure the cream is warm. In another small heavy-bottomed saucepan, combine the sugar, water, salt, and corn syrup. Place it over low heat and boil until it is amber colored, then immediately remove from the heat and carefully add the warm cream. Allow it to settle for a moment before whisking until smooth. Transfer it to a cool bowl, stir in the lemon juice and allow to cool. Add the butter in small pieces, whisking after each addition. Allow it to cool completely, stirring occasionally.

Lemon Cream

• 95g (6 tablespoons + 1 teaspoon) lemon juice
• 2 large eggs
• 100g (1/2 cup) sugar
• small pinch of salt
• 135g (1/2 cup plus 1-1/2 tablespoons) unsalted butter

In a heatproof bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water, combine the lemon juice, eggs, sugar, and salt (make sure the bottom of the bowl doesn't touch the water). Whisk them together constantly until very thick, or 80°C (180°F) on an instant-read thermometer. Remove from the heat and let it cool down until warm to touch (60°C or 140°F on a thermometer). Place the lemon cream in a blender and with the motor running, add the butter in small pieces. Allow to cool completely. (You may refrigerate it, but allow to come to cool room temperature before using.)

Lemon Syrup

• 45g (3 tablespoons) water
• 45g (1/4 cup) sugar
• 45g (3 tablespoons) lemon juice

In a nonreactive saucepan, combine the sugar and water and bring to a boil over medium heat. Transfer to a cool bowl, let cool for a bit, then chill for half an hour. Stir in the lemon juice.

Assembly
Split the chiffon cake horizontally into four layers. In an 8-inch cake ring, place a cake board under and the bottom chiffon cake layer. Brush with lemon syrup and spread with a third of the caramel using an offset spatula. Spread a third of the lemon cream over this with an offset spatula. Repeat with the next two layers, then top with the top layer of chiffon cake, then brush with more lemon syrup. Cover with cling film and refrigerate for at least 4 hours or overnight.

Swiss Meringue

• 175g (about 5-1/2 large, or 3/4 cup minus 1 tablespoon) egg whites
• 245g (1-1/4 cups) sugar
• pinch of salt

In a heatproof bowl over a pan of simmering water, combine the egg whites, sugar, and salt. Beat with a handheld mixer until the mixture holds stiff, glossy peaks, about 7 minutes or more.

Unmold the cake and spread the meringue all over. Use a spatula or a spoon to create dramatic swirls. Using a propane torch if available, scorch the meringue, blackening the tips and swirls.

Don't forget to check out Lisa's Tartine post in the next few days!

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Ruins Longanisang Hubad

Ruins Naked Filipino Sausage

It's my first time to participate in Marc and Susan's event, Dinner and a Movie (see the announce), this month for Breakfast at Tiffany's. I thought it would be a good one to participate in, because it is such an iconic movie and I'd never seen it before. It would be really easy for me to talk about being afraid to fall in love or being a slut (er, not really), but as I tweeted while watching it, I just couldn't get over particular scenes involving Mr. Yunioshi, and how he 1) acted like no Japanese person I know, and 2) could ever stoop so low as to play such a stupid and misinformed stereotype. It turns out, he wasn't Japanese at all, and was played by Mickey Rooney in yellowface (well duh, Manggy).

Which is sad because it really would have been a pretty good movie if not for that part, which Rooney insists is not meant to be offensive, and that people would find it so is heartbreaking for him. Uh, okay.

Sometimes I wonder how much humor would be left in the world if we were no longer allowed to make fun of stereotypes, but it's so uncreative to think there wouldn't be. It's lazy to think up jokes based on stereotypes. And, I'm happy to say that I don't find humor based on stereotypes funny at all, and that includes Jeff Foxworthy (sorry, fans). I'm glad to see that the world has changed significantly since 1961, but in searching for that video clip above on Youtube, I landed on another video, and read the comments, and stumbled into that guy's profile page, and I gasped. I'm not naive enough to believe there aren't hardcore hate-mongers in the world today, but it always makes me weak, that thumping in my pacifist heart that tells me, yes, there are some streets I will walk where it won't be safe, just because of the color of my skin or the way I look or act. All this (malevolent, violent) hate without knowing a single thing about me.

So. There's no resolution there, unfortunately. And again, a little too heavy for a food blog post, but I think Audrey Hepburn would approve. Allen makes fun of me all the time for not ever posting Filipino food on here, but the truth is, I'm just not a very good Filipino cook, because everyone else is, so I'm never hungry for it. I was supposed to make doughnuts (get it? New York + Breakfast...) but I thought, it's a good opportunity to show everyone how we eat breakfast here.

Filipinos, if the budget allows, generally eat three rice meals a day. Lunch and dinner are identical in weight. As is breakfast, which is usually rice (sinangag, or yesterday's rice fried with garlic) and, for some reason, a cured meat (choose from: cured beef, cured pork, yesterday's Adobo, corned beef, hotdogs or Vienna sausages, dried fish, Filipino sausages) and eggs (itlog).

Filipino sausages are known as "Longanisa" (long-ga-NEE-sa) and show reasonable regional variety. The common elements are fatty pork (though chicken and fish (?) varieties have surfaced), garlic, black pepper, and vinegar, with some regions opting for sweeter mixes, or smokier ones. The triumvirate of Longanisa, rice, and eggs is known as Longsilog. When it includes cured beef or tapa it's known as Tapsilog, and if with sweet cured pork or tocino (which I promised to Todd and Diane I'd eventually feature, when I make it) it's known as Tosilog. The longanisa here is "hubad" (naked), because it has no casing.

The dish here is a favorite of my family's, from our favorite restaurant (Cafe by the Ruins) in Baguio, which is 6 hours North of Manila, and we only visit once in two years or so. I'm glad to have captured its taste so we don't have to travel that far, thanks to a cookbook they released.

Ruins Longanisang Hubad from Cafe by the Ruins: Memories and Recipes
I've scaled down the recipe-- it originally calls for 11 pounds of pork, but then again it is good to freeze some so you can cook at a moment's notice.

• 1kg (2.2 pounds) boneless pork shoulder


• 1 tablespoon salt


• 5 grams (1 tablespoon ground) freshly and coarsely ground black pepper


• 20 grams (7 cloves) garlic, minced


• 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano


• 1 laurel (bay) leaf


• 1/2 teaspoon dried marjoram


• 1 teaspoon dried sage


• 1 tablespoon paprika


• 250g (1 cup) vinegar (I used cane vinegar)

Cut the pork into 1cm (3/8 inch) cubes, making sure to also include a good proportion (ideally half) of fat cubes as well. This is quite difficult with fully thawed meat, so you may want to do this with half-thawed pork (I'm not sure if butchers will be willing to help you out at least in slicing it 1-cm thick). In a large bowl, mix the rest of the ingredients together, then toss the pork cubes in. Marinate at least overnight in the refrigerator or up to 5 days (freeze after 3 days in the fridge if keeping for longer, draining the vinegar before storage).

To cook, place a heavy-bottomed skillet over high heat. Cook the longanisa in batches with a scant amount of water. As the water evaporates, some of the fat renders out. Continue cooking until the pork cubes are partially crisp, about 10 minutes. Serve with rice (ideally garlic fried rice or red (native) rice, if you can find it) and a fried (or scrambled) egg.

Additional fixins: small bowl of cubed melons, apples, strawberries, bananas, and mangoes, tossed in calamansi juice and drizzled with honey. Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate.

Further reading:
Check out Joey's round-up of Filipino breakfasts.
Don't forget to check out the round-up of Dinner and a Movie coming later this month!

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Winter in New York (New York Part 1)

As usual, just click on any photo go to to the Flickr page, where you can view it full-size.
Welcome to the first of my 2-part feature on New York, the last stop of my "tour" of the US from last Winter (second part comes next month). Actually, I have a few pictures from New Jersey, but it's kind of pathetic because I only managed to take pictures of the food in one restaurant, and not much of anything else (though it's obviously not representative of the number of good places you can eat in New Jersey, as you'll find in Off The Broiler). Anyway, I found the sheer number of pictures I took in New York daunting to process, and that's even as I skillfully evaded places like the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building. Even Rockefeller Plaza, and I am a big fan of NBC programming and ice skating. BUT I did get to meet three bloggers, and up there is a picture of the park where Marc and I ate Australian ice cream while talking about the job market.

So, instead of my usual here's-some-sights-now-here's-the-food, we'll get right down to the meat, so to speak. Marc gave me a choice of where to eat, and somehow we ended up in Ippudo. A great stop during a blustery winter's day, because it is home to the best pork ramen I've ever tasted.

It's actually not a good thing because my cheap instant ramen now makes me sad. There were three degrees of heat for the soup, and I chose a moderate one to avoid being given a soup that wasn't enjoyable. However, Marc says their hottest is still not that hot to him, even though I found "moderate" kind of impressive. Marc is a mutant, that's why. Looking at the nearly open kitchen you can see giant vats of steaming broth prepared daily from pork bones. We also had some lovely barbecued pork buns. Fantastic meal I'll have to come back to (hopefully my turn to impress someone else with it).

I also got to meet the gorgeous and funny Claire a few days before Marc (and a few days before the two of them would meet). We met up at Strand Bookstore, one of the most insanely stocked used/new bookstores I've ever seen. The picture above isn't even all of the cooking section; it's maybe a third or a fourth of it. Still, I only bought Grand Finales: The Art of the Plated Dessert; next time I'll have to have a really long list of the books I've always wanted to have (actually good I limited myself, as I had so many cookbooks I had to leave some behind in New Jersey as my luggage couldn't take any more). We also went to Whole Foods and I can't remember if we salivated at the pastries or laughed at them.

We met up with the dashing and hilarious Zen Chef (uh, should I still be using your nom de guerre?) at Cafe d'Alsace. I got to see the Colloquial Cook in action as she laid the smackdown on some poor American waiter for claiming that (some dish I forgot) was a "classic Alsatian dish..." when it was not. The educator was in action, schooling his ass, now trembling in his boots. Of course, when Zen Chef came, she had to relate the hilarity in rapid-fire French. It was too dark to take food pics, but we had the Tarte Flambée (OMG), I had the Choucroute Garnie, and finished a glass of my new favorite white, Gewurztraminer (sweet and fruity, what's not to like?).

For some reason I wanted to go to Sur La Table, but on the way I walked on Bowery Street, which has an insane array of restaurant and kitchen supply stores. I don't think the stock can be beaten, except maybe when it comes to pastry supplies in France. Unfortunately, the prices were not very competitive. I think they get replenished when a restaurant goes under because of the recession.

Speaking of recession, Gray's Papaya, reputed to be one of New York's best hotdogs, had a recession special of 2 hot dogs and orange juice for $5 (I think). I very poorly estimated the size of the hot dogs and thought two would be excessive, so I ordered one. Tiny! Still, I soldiered on the afternoon eating only this, but I still had no problem gaining weight.

I got a borrower's card at the New York Public Library, for cookbook-related research. Ah, a reviewer's job is never done...

I had heard a lot of good things about Patisserie Claude, but I wasn't very impressed with it. It just seemed so sad! Claude had already retired but his staff was still there. I got a very cold slice of tarte tatin.


Bonchon Chicken had been getting a lot of buzz as THE Korean fried chicken you must try. My friend Genie and I split a medium order of hot and spicy wings and legs, but we were so stuffed so we left one behind. I still dream of that remaining piece, sigh. It's also the other place Marc suggested. It's located on the second floor of the building, so don't get discouraged looking for it-- just look up.

My search for new and unfamiliar eats brought me to Brooklyn, though only for a little while. The tranquility was very jarring, having been in Manhattan for most of the day! But I love the place. I was hoping to see Ann, but she was probably a bit busy.

I arrived at the cafeteria of the Polish & Slavic Center on Kent St. in Brooklyn for my first taste of authentic Polish food. I had the Wieprzowina zapiekana w sosie czosnkowym (pork with garlic gravy), with beets, red cabbage (three things I've never had before), mashed potatoes and a glass of kompot for a very reasonable price. A very tall, beautiful and well-dressed woman helped little old me order the things, because the nice woman behind the counter could not understand me at all. The pork was extremely tender and lovely, but I was shocked when I tasted the gravy-- the garlic in it was completely raw! Quite a heavy flavor, but no less delicious. It must have been quite a sight for the staff to see a young Asian man in the place, instead of the burly/statuesque/blond clientele they usually get!


Financier Patisserie is rated to be one of New York's best, perhaps under Payard (which is coming up on my next feature on New York!). It certainly is a very lively place in the middle of Manhattan's financial district (check out the slick businessmen and the one emo kid!).

I ate here with Genie, and we shared an Alhambra (classic gateau of hazelnut-chocolate cake and ganache) and Caramel Brownie. The desserts were quite decadent, though I wish the Alhambra could have been kept at a slightly higher temperature (or maybe we should have waited to dig in?).

I've heard a little bit about The Petrossian Boutique which specializes in fine food (notably caviar), but it was kind of opulently sad? I don't know. There were two strangers having a friendly chat about the government, though, while they were seated in two adjacent tables. I had an orange curd tart with a chocolate shell.


I was excited to eat at Amy's Bread in the West Village, especially since I'm always excited to eat in a place with a book out (The Sweeter Side of Amy's Bread)-- it has a promise of home replication. The place was cozy, the manager was friendly, and all the treats looked tempting. The chicken soup hit the spot on a cold pre-Spring day. Since I'd just returned from San Francisco, I was still craving Miette's gingerbread, but unfortunately this one came out a bit dry. It really needs a syrup soak to achieve superior moistness. I should've gone for a slice of their sky-high cakes!

Our last stop for this week's tour is Zabar's on Broadway. The tagline on the site says "Zabar's is New York, New York is Zabar's." If by that, they mean both are cacophonous orgies of gastronomic treats, then I guess it's accurate. Above is a picture of one of the staff dispensing coffee beans.

On the second floor you'll find nothing but more and more kitchen stuff. Orgasm. Unfortunately again, the prices were not competitive. What can I say, I'm a real bargain hunter.

You think that's a lot of cheese?

No, this is a lot of cheese. Way to go Zabar's. I wish I had loaded up on varieties which are expensive here AHEMREBLOCHONAHEM, but then again it would be illegal to bring them back.

Whew! Part 2 coming soon. I hope you've enjoyed the trip so far.

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Mango Parfait with Orange Anise Jelly

I transferred from another elementary/primary school to high school. As a result, many of my classmates knew each other from before, and my classmates had friends in other sections. In the Philippine school system before college, sections of 40-50 students are stationary in the room, it's the teachers that moved around, so I never really got to meet anyone outside my 49 classmates in 4 years. Anyway, there was this boy from another section about a year older than me who was a paraplegic (? functionally, if not totally) and therefore always walked with crutches all over the campus. I knew his name but I didn't know anything else about him.

One day when the halls were pretty deserted, I was on my way out of the library when I spotted him making his way up the stairs. I'm not sure how my recollections have been colored (I was 14 at the time), but he was really struggling-- as he usually does. He climbs the stairs every day. So many thoughts ran through my head: he climbs the stairs every day. He never needs any assistance. He might get offended if a complete stranger offered him assistance now. I don't know why, but the thought that won that day was, stupidly, "Let me just run up the stairs as fast as I can and appear to be in a hurry so I can pretend that I'm too busy to notice him."

So that's what I did. And as soon as I was a meter away from the landing, I heard a trembling, almost angry remark: "Thanks."

Thanks. You cold, uncaring person. Thanks for not at least offering a hand to help me. Thanks for trying to pretend I don't exist. It haunts me to this day. Thanks.

Why was I so afraid of being humiliated? Do people really admonish others who try to come to their aid even if they don't need it? Is it possible to be hated because you thought they needed help? Maybe, but I don't want to think about those things anymore. I couldn't live with myself again if I knew that I could have helped someone but pretended not to notice them just to spare my own "feelings." I may not have been able to help him that day, but his sarcasm and his anger helped me. From that day, I don't ignore people who may need my help, whether they ask for it or not, whether they appreciate it or not. To hear no thanks is better than to hear it again from someone I've hurt.

Anyway. This dessert comes from the Michelin-starred Maze restaurant of Gordon Ramsay and Jason Atherton. When the sun is being oppressive, just pop out one of these domes of fresh, custardy goodness and it'll hit the spot. I tried to be clever and adopt Johnny Iuzzini's fluid gel technique for the orange jelly but it didn't look so pretty, so I'm just going to include the original recipe for the jelly here. The original presentation of the parfait is as a 1-cm thick 8-cm diameter disc sandwiched between 2 thin discs of mango, and served with mango sorbet and the jelly. However, I didn't have enough mangoes to make a sorbet, so I just served it as is, with a mango "carpaccio."

Mango Parfait with Orange Anise Jelly adapted from Gordon Ramsay's Maze
Mango Parfait

• 3 large ripe mangoes


• 3 large egg yolks


• 75g (6 tablespoons) sugar


• 180g (3/4 cup) heavy cream, cold

For the molds, you can use six 8-cm (3-inch) metal cutters, a silicone demisphere form, or a muffin tin. If using the cutters or the tin, line with cling film.

Peel the mangoes. Cut the flesh parallel to the stone in thin slices (see the picture-- I didn't peel it yet as our mangoes are too soft and I needed a good handle on them; I just cut the skin away from the slices). From the bigger slices, cut out twelve 8-cm (3-inch) circles using a metal cutter, or as large as you can manage. Set them aside chilled and wrapped with cling film.

Remove any trace of skin from the rest of the mango slices and the scraps, if any, and puree them. Push the puree through a fine sieve, discarding any fibrous pieces. Measure out 250g (about a cup minus 2 tablespoons) and set aside.

In a heatproof bowl set over barely simmering water, whisk together the egg yolks and sugar using a handheld mixer until it triples in volume and is thick and pale (ribbons falling from the beaters will leave a ribbon that slowly sinks). If you only have a stand mixer, just follow the recipe here, using 3 egg yolks, 90g (scant 1 cup) sugar, and 60mL (1/4 cup) water.

In a cold mixing bowl, whip the cream until it holds soft peaks. Fold the mango puree into the egg yolk mixture, then fold in the whipped cream. Divide between the molds, cover with cling film and freeze until firm.

Orange and Star Anise Jelly

• 250g (1 cup) fresh orange juice, strained


• 2 star anise


• 2 sheets leaf gelatin, or 1 teaspoon powdered gelatin

Sprinkle the gelatin (or soak if using leaves) in cold water. Meanwhile, heat the orange juice and star anise in a nonreactive saucepan until barely simmering. If using powdered gelatin, heat over barley simmering water until it is dissolved (or in a microwavable bowl on LOW power for a few seconds. If using leaf gelatin, squeeze out the excess water. Remove the juice from the heat and add the gelatin, stirring to dissolve. Pass through a fine sieve, let cool, and chill until set.

Orange Powder

• 2 large oranges

Preheat the oven to 100°C (212°F). Using a vegetable peeler, pare the zest from the oranges and cut away any white pith that comes with it. Drop in a pan of boiling water for a few seconds, then plunge it in iced water. Repeat the boil/ice water cycle 2 more times, then pat dry with towels. Spread the zest on a sheet pan and dry for 30-40 minutes or until brittle. Process to a fine powder in a food processor or spice grinder.

To assemble: if using the metal cutters as molds, remove the parfaits from the plastic wrap and cutter, and place on top of a mango disc, then top with another mango disc. Spoon orange jelly (and mango sorbet, if available) on top. Sprinkle with the orange powder.

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Week-End

When I was in medical school there was this little-known (HAH) release by R. Kelly during his strange phase called "Ignition (Remix)". There's a line that goes, "It's the freakin weekend baby, I'm about to have me some fun," which I really loved because it's easy to feel fried by the end of the week as a student. During my later years it was even more precious to have a free weekend because clinical duties have little concern with what day it is, except those who don't have overnight duty can go home at noon. Big whoop, right? (By the way, I call it R. Kelly's strange phase because prior to that he was primarily known for his ballads. Anyone remember "I'm Your Angel" with Celine Dion?)

I'm sure my friends thought it was pretty strange of me to be rejoicing over the weekend, because I was one of the uncommon types who, instead of staying behind and hanging out with friends, I packed my bags (and dirty laundry of course) and headed home with my family every weekend I had a chance. I bet they were wondering if I had any actual youth-y fun.

Okay, so it doesn't sound that exciting and I would seem like the kind of person for which weekends are a waste, but there's just something about being able to lie down in your bed at home (and sleep the afternoon away if you must), not worry about having to prepare your own meals, and go shopping or to Mass with my family. YAWN! Well, I like the simple things.

I do have some friends who strangely took it upon themselves to show me what it means to have a good time ("Try this [drink], it's good!"), and I know they meant well, but I wasn't so concerned about fun as I was about relaxing. Partying and such is just a little too much effort. Too stressful. Dressing up, trying to impress people, talking over loud music, having to reject drink after drink (failing maybe once a night, heh), when all I want is to not be so wound up.

So, what do you do (or rather be doing) on your weekends? :)

P.S. I knew I was in love with the English when the nice man from some transportation service in London told me to "have a nice wee-KEND." I've always tried to say it like that ever since.

This is a simple French poundcake-style cake with a light, lemony flavor and a slight hint of rum. I love the way it uses the bottom as the top, so it has a beautiful surface which can be very reflective if done right. According to The Art of the Cake, "it originated in the thirties probably to celebrate the introduction of the five-day workweek with a weekend holiday (semaine anglaise)."

Week-End adapted from The Art of the Cake by Bruce Healy and Paul Bugat
Since I didn't have crème fraîche, I used sour cream with no apparent loss in quality. In the book the bottom edge is covered with a band of chopped almonds 1/2 inch high, and the top-center scattered with chopped pistachios.

• 85g (6 tablespoons) unsalted butter, softened


• 225g (1 cup + 2 tablespoons) sugar


• zest of 3 lemons


• 3 large eggs at room temperature


• 2 large egg yolks at room temperature


• 120g (1/2 cup) crème fraîche or sour cream


• 140g (1 cup) all-purpose flour


• 30g (2-1/2 tablespoons) cornstarch


• 1 teaspoon baking powder


• 45g (3 tablespoons) dark Jamaican or Haitian rum

Preheat the oven to 175°C (350°F). Prepare a loaf pan with at least 1.5L (6-cup) capacity (10 x 4 x 2.5" or 9 x 5 x 2.5" works) by spraying with baking spray, lining with parchment cut to fit the bottom and sides exactly, and the parchment sprayed again. Rub the sugar and lemon zest together till the sugar turns pale yellow. Whisk together the flour, cornstarch, and baking powder in a medium bowl.

In a large bowl, cream the butter, then add 100g (1/2 cup) of the sugar and continue beating until very pale, about 5 minutes. Beat in the remaining lemon sugar. Beat in the eggs and egg yolks, one at a time, beating well after each addition until it appears homogeneous. Beat in the crème fraîche or sour cream. Sift the flour onto the batter in 3 additions, folding well after each. When well-incorporated, sprinkle the rum on top and fold gently. Pour into the loaf pan and smooth the top. Bake until the cake begins to shrink from the sides and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, about 50-70 minutes.

Cool the cake in the pan for 5 minutes, then unmold and turn right-side-up on a rack and cool completely. Peel the parchment away from the sides and cut the top off with a bread knife so it is flat. Cut a cake board to almost fit this area, but smaller by 1/4" on both dimensions, and place it on top. Turn the cake upside-down on a wire rack and remove the parchment completely.

• 100g (5 tablespoons) strained apricot jam, melted


• 50g (2 tablespoons + 2 teaspoons) confectioner's sugar, sifted


• 2 teaspoons dark Jamaican or Haitian rum

(To make the strained apricot jam, heat apricot jam over low heat until melted, then force it using a pestle or rubber spatula through a fine sieve, discarding the tough, fibrous pieces.) Preheat the oven to 230°C (450°F). Brush the top and sides of the cake with the apricot jam completely. In a small bowl, combine the confectioner's sugar and rum, then add as much cold water (in 1/2-teaspoon increments) until it forms a smooth paste just fluid enough to spread easily with a pastry brush. Brush the top and sides of the cake completely. Place the cake with the board onto a sheet pan and bake in the oven for 1-1/2 to 2 minutes, or until the glaze is translucent (if the glaze starts to bubble around the edges, remove the cake from the oven). Slide it back onto the wire rack and let cool completely.

The cake can be kept at room temperature for 4 days uncovered (it won't dry out because of the glaze). Keep it in the refrigerator on a hot day, but let it come to room temperature before serving.

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