01 August 2011

gateau a l'orange

That means orange spongecake, by the way, that gateau a l'orange.

I baked up a storm this weekend, and by that I mean: I baked two cakes, and it was 100 degrees outside, not your typical baking weather. It's more the weather for languid afternoons in front of a fan, perhaps with a glass of lemonade. Or with an entire box of popsicles in a little cooler right next to you—easy access so that you can eat popsicle after popsicle without wasting energy trying to part the humid air as you walk to the freezer.

But despite the heat {or to spite the heat}, I wanted to bake, even if it caused a small heat wave in my kitchen. {Air conditioning is no match, it seems, for an oven at 350 degrees.}

A very, very good friend was having her wedding shower this weekend, and I volunteered to make the cake because what is a shower without a little slice of cake? Without a little tranche of sweetness?

And because this very, very good friend shares my Francophile tendencies, choosing the cake was easy: open up Mastering the Art of French Cooking and let Julia Child take over.

I made this gateau a l'orange because it just sounded summer-y. Doesn't it?

Orange spongecake.

It sounds like afternoon tea with white gloves on, something right out of a Katherine Mansfield story.

Like the snack you sneak before dinner.

Like dessert after a meal made only with food bought at the farmers' market.

Or like a Sunday afternoon wedding shower for a very, very good friend whose eyes smiled with contentment when she took a bite of gateau a l'orange.

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