First Sunday of the month is the time we post our Recipe Swap creations. Today marks the first anniversary of this event started by Christianna of Burwell General Store. Browsing through the piles in an estate sale, she found an old hymnal/cookbook whose recipes we use as a starting point while trying to adjust them to our personalities, likes, experiences, and inspiration. The newest challenge is Maple Syrup Cake, which in my interpretation skip the continent and became a Rum Torte.
Growing up, I was surrounded by women who ruled the kitchen with a magic wand. My grandmother Njanja was a master of southern, Turkish-influenced cuisine, and with years learned how to make multi-layered, classic European tortes and beautiful petit-fours that were the envy of the neighborhood. Mother brought with her Central-European and Hungarian dishes, aromatic yeasty breads, and intricate strudels, accompanied by a myriad of unusual recipes she collected from foreign magazines while still a girl. Add to the equation many relatives more then willing to share their expertise in the kitchen, and neighborhood matrons more then eager to enter this friendly exchange, and you get a family that enjoyed innumerable feasts daily, spoiled for eternity by exposure to so many skillful hands.
We had something sweet every day. When the chores overwhelmed her, Mother would whip up a batch of crepes, feeling guilty for offering such a pedestrian desert to her growing children. If she felt especially inspired, she would spend the better part of the day creating a cake that could be proudly displayed at the most prestigious Parisian bakery. And then, there was everything in between: angel food cakes studded with chopped nuts, candied fruit, and grated lemon zest; syrup-infused baklavas and other Middle-Eastern delights; crispy meringues topped with a walnut quarter that seemed to pulverize itself in your mouth like fairy dust; crumbly sandwich cookies with a layer of tangy jam rolled powdered sugar; buttery shortbread cookies brushed with egg whites and sprinkled with chopped walnuts; pound cakes hiding fresh fruit bursting with all the flavors of summer; light and crispy pastries made with phyllo dough; creamy homemade puddings sparkling with preserves on top; tiny croissants filled with apricot jam and sprinkled with powdered vanilla sugar; cream puffs with their whimsical tops covering the luxuriously rich creme anglaise; quick cakes made with butter wafers soaked in strong coffee and attached with buttery chocolate filling; light and airy European doughnuts best eaten when hot…
When I think of my childhood, I feel a bit guilty, as my three daughters experienced some of this bounty only when Mother visited us in the U.S. and on our summer pilgrimages to Serbia. I stay away from sweets, Husband is allergic to many ingredients, the girls have not yet developed those voracious teen appetites, and therefore I rarely make desserts. But it’s hard for me to resist the soulful call of my youth here in my parents’ home in Serbia. It could be that I am growing older; it could be the desire to connect with the innocent and idyllic days of my childhood; it could be the feeling of looming homesickness that I can predict will befall me as soon as I drive away in a cab on my way to the airport next week.
I recognize and inhale with gusto the food smells of October and November mixed with crisp, fresh gusts of the north-western winds that bring the hint of snow from the Alps. I need to feel comforted and cocooned while the skies are getting ominously darker and the rain attacks the window panes ferociously. I indulge my inner selfish child and dig up the recipes Mother made for us a long time ago and I prepare them the way she used to, with no shortcuts, without cheating, finding pleasure in every step of the process.
As I stir, chop, mix, blend, and simmer, the scenes of my childhood dart in front of my eyes, sometimes in slow motion and sometimes accelerated like in an old black and white silent movie. I am usually alone and it’s easy to get lost in the mellow haze of the days when I was younger than my youngest child is now. I reach for those long lost memories and try to hold onto their dissipating tendrils, wishing that they could envelop me into the oblivion and propel me once again to those times when this house reverberated with strong energy of people coming and going, with Father briskly walking up the steps and Mother flushed by the stove, stirring something vigorously and mercilessly correcting my grammar while I sat at the kitchen table and chewed on my pencil.
I cannot bring vigor to Father’s tired gait. I cannot bring color to Mother’s pale cheeks. Time has worked its magic and made them old overnight. All I have are the memories, often conflicting stories they tell, the moments fossilized in the ever-changing routine of life. And I have my smells that bring forth in an instant those afternoons of icy northern winds and comforting warmth of the stove.
The simple and flavorful Rum Torte has been my favorite when I was little. I shared the love of it with my grandfather, Deda-Ljubo, the WWI veteran and invalid since he was eighteen. The Bulgarian shrapnel that made a big hole in his head and took away the ability to move his legs in any controlled manner did not make him a bitter, hateful human being, but accentuated his good nature and kindness. I remember sitting in his lap with the daily newspaper open on the kitchen table in front of him, while he mixed the batter for the cake and read the news stories to me at the same time. It was the time just before the electric mixers appeared in the stores of Yugoslavia and his patience and determination were a guarantee of a dough properly mixed. After it went into the pan to be baked, he would relax and continue to read to me in a more lively voice, while the smells of apricot jam, rum, and freshly baked yellow cake seduced us from the kitchen.
I was only four when I insisted that Deda-Ljubo read the entire newspaper to me loudly, while I moved my index finger underneath the lines, following his voice. His trembling baritone brought me comfort and the love I saw in his sad, blue eyes made me stronger to fight my battles later on in life. I wanted to make the Rum Torte to bring back the feel of his hug and to get lost for the moment in the illusive fog of my childhood. October 21st was the anniversary of his death which became the day when I stopped being a child and overnight became an adult.
I celebrate the Recipe Swap‘s birthday with the homage to my grandfather, Deda-Ljubo, whose life enriched mine and whose passing, after almost nine decades on this Earth, was a sorrowful affair only for a day or so. Even though he spent almost half of his life in a wheelchair, he made every day count, showing us that there is no limit to kindness, determination, strength, tolerance, and love.
RUM TORTA
This cake is most, juicy, light, and very festive looking. It’s easy to put it together and it does not require a lot of preparation time (I don’t count chilling overnight).
Ingredients:
For the yellow cake:
- 8 eggs, separated and divided in half
- 8 Tbsp sugar, divided in half
- 8 Tbsp flour, divided in half
For the multi-colored layer:
- 5 eggs, separated
- 3 Tbsp sugar
- 5 Tbsp flour
- a few drops of raspberry extract or red food coloring
- ½ tsp cocoa
- 250 gr sugar (a bit more than 1 cup)
- 200 ml water (a bit less than 1 cup)
- 2 Tbsp apricot jam (I used nectarine jam, as I did not have any apricot jam)
- 3 Tbsp spiced rum*
- 2 Tbsp rum or orange juice (I use tangerines fresh from the tree inMontenegro)
Glaze:
- 200 ml (little less than 1 cup) water
- 10 Tbsp sugar
- red food coloring
- 1 drop of sunflower oil
Directions:
Preheat the oven to 180C (350F).
Yellow cake: Whip 4 egg whites until soft peaks form. Add yolks, and when blended, add 4 tablespoons of sugar. Carefully mix in 4 tablespoons of flour and pour in a greased, floured baking pan (25x20cm). Bake for 20 minutes, until it gets pale golden on top. Leave in the pan to cool and carefully remove the cake from the pan. Repeat with the other half.
Multi-colored layer:
Whip the egg whites until soft peaks form. Add yolks and sugar, and in the end mix in flour carefully. Divide the batter in three parts. Add raspberry extract or red food coloring to the first layer, cocoa to the second, and the third should stay yellow. Pour them in the greased, floured pan next to each other and bake for 15-20 minutes until pale golden on top. Leave in the pan to cool and carefully remove. Cut in small cubes.
Heat the water and sugar to boil on high heat. Turn the heat down to medium and simmer for 5 minutes. Mix in jam and rum and let it cool. When cooled, carefully stir in the colored pieces of cake.
Assembly:
Place one of the yellow cake layers on the tray. Sprinkle evenly with orange juice or rum. Place the colored layer evenly on top and smooth to reach the edges. Top with the other layer and cover with something heavy (I used a cutting board) overnight.
Glaze:
Heat water and sugar to boil and cook on medium heat for 5 minutes. Let it cool and mix with an electric mixer until it thickens and becomes almost white. Add the red food coloring and oil (for the added shine) and pour immediately on top of the cake. Use the knife dipped frequently in hot water to smooth the glaze.
There are some extremely creative bloggers who participate in the Recipe Swap. Please, visit their blog and take a look at their imaginative takes on the Maple Syrup Cake.
Last year this time I posted a recipe for Hibiscus Cocktail and wrote a story about my first encounter with alcohol.
Wow Lana. This is so heartfelt. I’ve been having many experiences of late remembering how tied we all are by food (specific food) and with nostalgia. Food memories are so strong, instantly transporting us to those now gone. Thank for your earnest sharing about your family; beautiful post. Your dessert is really special as well.
while i always find myself swooning over the dishes you post here Lana, it is your writing, your storytelling that always has me wishing we lived closer or that i could travel the world exploring the cuisines that you write so beautifully about here . . . i’ve said many times before that i always feel as if i’m going on a journey with you . . . seeing the sights and flavors thru your eyes . . . feeling every emotion you feel . . . today’s post is especially poignant as i too, have been reflecting about life, about aging, about my own childhood . . . soulful, searching and always beautifully written . . . enjoy your last week in Serbia my friend, i know coming home will be difficult . . .
This is such a beautiful post, Lana. I love reading about your family memories, and this recipe is gorgeous. It looks so detailed and complex but the way you have explained the recipe, it seems very do-able. Thank you so much for sharing! (If you do have time, The Gallery of Favorites weekend linky is open on my site for another four hours. I’d be honoured if you would share this lovely post.)
Lana…
As always, I love your trips down memory lane, and this is a PERFECT title for this post – love it! Thanks for taking the time to participate in the swap this month… I know you’ve been busy from afar for a while, so it means a lot to me (and us) that you make the time to share your contributions to the recipe swap. Looking forward to your next post!
What a beautiful, beautiful post! I am drawn to stories of family, memories, and food. You are an excellent story teller and as talented a baker as your mother, even if you don’t make dessert every day!
I happy when you share these memories. GREG
What a beautiful, beautiful post! And an incredible tribute to your mother and children. What an inspiring magician to grow up with
My heart sighed when I saw this recipe – brava!
I love the strong connection you have with family, and that you dedicated your recipe to your grandfather. I also have such strong memories from my childhood, and my grandfather specifically, regarding food. And it looks very good!
Wow, what a beautiful post to go along with a beautiful dessert. Heartfelt and truly a great memorial to family. A wonderful addition to a great group of maple cake-inspired recipes.
lovely memories, lovely torte . . . I’d love tot try this one!
Hi Lana, this was such a lovely read and the torte looks wonderful. Lots of love from a very wintery Scotland Cx
What a beautiful cake to go along with your beautifully written story. Thank you for painting us a slice of your life
Love, love, love your play on words. But then I love your words! I can’t help but be reminded of sometime back when and you thought I had unfollowed you on Twitter. Stupid Twitter, that only made our bond closer! Hope you have a safe trip home and you should feel good about all you have done for your mom; you are a very good daughter, you know that?
This dessert is beautiful too; just love it.
That is a very good remembrance story and torte to make to honor your Deda.
I miss the days we ate what our moms cooked without any guilt, counting calories or worrying about the ingredients. I want to go back to that cooking that reminds me everything about home.
I need to let go off some commitments about the blogging and cooking and just cook for my soul, to put some smiles.
Reading your stories always put smiles on my face.
Ah, even though I was an adult in years I believe it was when my mother died that I really became one … until something like that happens I don’t think it is possible to understand that yearning ache for the past that brings simultaneous comfort and pain. Beautiful post.
Hello Lana,
Meeting you after quite some time – but so glad to be here again:) Your beautiful post touched my heart – I really like the way you write about your days as a child and all the people you had around you. I know some are really painful memories. Even after all this time away from your homeland, you seem to recollect them as if everything happened just yesterday.Thanks for sharing with us!And your Rum Torte looks awesome,as always:)
You are such a great writer, and I love hearing your family stories. What a great homage this recipe is! We’re so glad to have you as part of the swap. And the rum torte looks gorgeous!
So wonderfully festive! Perfect for the upcoming silly season. Safe trip home & catch you on the twittersphere soon!
Such a heart warming story Lana. Thank you for your kind words. The torte looks delicious
I always love to come and read your stories, they are a treasure not yet found by your daughters.
I have a question about the multicolored layer. One of the ingredients says: 250 grams but not ingredient mentioned, could it be raspberries?
Thanks in advance for answering my question.
Happy week!
Mely
Mely, thanks for stopping by and thanks for catching my mistake:) It should say 250gr sugar (sugar and water cook down to make a simple syrup). The red is the result of raspberry extract or red food dye, but the middle, multi-colored layer would taste just the same even without coloring:) It’s the rum and jam that give it that wonderful flavor.