Angel of Boston Cake
Today is my birthday. I’m celebrating by doing things that make me feel like myself: going for a walk, wearing a little outfit, writing after a long break, baking myself a birthday cake. I had been putting off doing all those things because I wanted to do them “when I was better” and then I realized doing them was how I was going to get better. Eating sad beige-y food, declining to exercise, doomscrolling the real-time demise of Twitter: this was not an express train to a better life of my own making. And yet, tough this is the stated purpose of this Nigella-a-day project, I got locked into the old prison I choose to live inside of not letting people see me until I was perfect again.
It was quite the year. The good parts belong on a lifetime highlight reel, truly some all-time bangers. The bad parts revealed that hell, in fact, has a basement. I declined to celebrate the former and took up residence in the latter. In short, I felt sorry for myself.
I grew pretty convinced that I was the most pathetic person in the world and all my friends hated me. If you’re reading this and we are friends, I am sorry to report I included you in that number. Depression and anxiety are like fraternal twin hydrae; you’re chopping off the head of one sadness only to watch two more grow in its place, then someone pokes you in the back, and lo, it’s the similar-yet-different anxiety monster here to remind you of the weird thing you said at the bar hang and you lop that head off and now it’s “they only invited you because they feel sorry for you” and “everyone talked about how terrible you look after you left” AND OH HERE COMES AN INTRUSIVE THOUGHT ABOUT THE WORST CONVERSATION OF YOUR LIFE WITH A CHAIR.
In another life, I think I could have been an excellent WWE scriptwriter.
Inner battles aside, the facts remain as such: I am not the only person to endure a season of humiliation, loss, hurt, sadness, and defeat. I’m not the very first woman to look at the mirror and see a stranger standing there. I’m hardly alone in having felt lonely. I have the kind of problems people have heard of, which is weirdly a thing that gives me enormous solace.
Things could certainly be worse, and overall, my life has improved very much from my last birthday. I’m happy to report I have a job I really love and am good at. I got a very cute vintage Coach satchel at auction. My scary health issue has mostly been resolved. I got to stay at a very fancy hotel with a bathtub you could fit four people in. I’m making new friends in my hometown. I’m dating again. I planted a somewhat fruitful vegetable garden. I traveled widely. I got a really fun byline in Salon. My dogs acted like dogs. I felt like myself more than I didn’t.
You are welcome to be as jealous as you want of my Grits Carlton mug but it is one of a kind and was a gift from my beloved friend, Andrew.
I also started cooking again in earnest. If I’m being honest with myself, when I started this project, I think it was to prove I was fine. In the grand tradition of desperately sad people, I very much wanted to showcase that I was doing not just okay but great; it’s all very Adam Scott in Parks and Rec “could a depressed person make THIS?” energy. It’s something I’ve even done before, c. 2016! I didn’t check my email or leave my house or talk to much of anyone aside from my former partner but I maintained a robust and convincing internet presence that fooled everyone, to include me (for awhile).
But now? I actually am okay. I’m making dinner almost every night. Like dinner-dinner! Not just popcorn and a handful of gummy bears! Unlike last year, I even felt up for making myself a birthday cake! I finally feel like I have something worth celebrating, because I do: me.
I am not much of a cake-maker. I’m pretty bad at frosting them, and I don’t have steady-enough hands for making little icing roses. I resent how big they are! What am I supposed to do with all of it? I made this rendition of Nigella’s Boston Cream Pie because it revels in being somewhat plain, kind of ugly, and not that big. It is, in short, a dream cake scenario for me.
If you aren’t aware, Boston Cream Pie is a cake. It dates from a time when the words cake and pie were synonyms and was first made in the same hotel that invented Parker House Rolls, the aptly named the Parker House.
Just because it’s ugly on purpose does not mean it’s not fussy, though. The original recipe has three different things you must make, mine has four. The ganache and jam can be made in advance, though the creme patisserie cannot. I don’t find sponge cake to be terribly good at weathering a night on the counter or a stint in the freezer, but maybe you know something I do not.
You can skip the jam recipe or use some you have on hand. You could also slice up some fresh strawberries if you wanted. I happened to have a pint of them I had accidentally fermented in my fridge and thought it would be fun. If you feel moved to include them, please do.
I renamed this recipe because I had just come into a complimentary bottle of Angel’s Envy and thus included it in everything I made below. I also live near an area called Boston, Kentucky, and this tickled me. You can use vanilla extract or another bourbon if you want and your results will be more or less the same!
Last thing: let everything come to room temperature before you start. Trust me on this.
Angel of Boston Cake
Adapted from How to Be a Domestic Goddess
makes one two-layer, eight-inch cake
Ingredients:
For the cake:
1 cup unsalted butter
3/4 cup white sugar
1 teaspoon Angel’s Envy
4 eggs
1 1/3 cups self-rising cake flour (I like Swan’s Down)
2 tablespoons cornstarch
4 tablespoons milk
For the creme patisserie:
½ cup whole milk
½ cup heavy cream
3 egg yolks
2 tablespoons white sugar
1 tablespoon AP flour (honestly, the cake flour is fine if you don’t want to get everything out)
1 teaspoon Angel’s Envy
For the ganache:
8 ounces semisweet chocolate (I used Baker’s but chips would be okay)
1 cup heavy cream
For the strawberry jam:
2 cups strawberries
1/4 cup burned brown sugar syrup (I made this, sorry, sorry, sorry, but you can use regular simple syrup too)
2 teaspoons Angel’s Envy
To Do:
First, you’re going to make the cake. Preheat your oven to 350, then put all the ingredients except the milk into the food processor and start it running. When it’s really really integrated, slowly add the milk through the opening at the top. You’ll have a very runny mixture that is roughly as liquid-y as pancake batter. Divide this between two greased, lined, eight-inch baking pans and bake for 25ish minutes. Take them out and place the pans on a cooling rack for about ten minutes, then flip them out of their pans and let that hang out until totally totally totally cool.
While that’s baking, you have time to do the rest. It’s fussy but easy. Let’s start with the jam.
Put the strawberries and the syrup into a very small pot and bring to a boil. Stir it until it feels slightly thickened, then pull from the heat and mix in the bourbon. Put that aside and let it cool.
Next, let’s do the ganache. Put your chocolate into a medium, heat-proof bowl. If it’s in bar form, make it into smaller pieces for ease of use. Bring your cream to a near-boil on your stove top, then pour it over the chocolate. Mix it until it’s very very integrated and you feel pretty good about it. Let it cool a bit; it’ll thicken. If you’re making this ahead of time, bring it up to slightly-warmer-than-room temperature before you use it for the cake.
Lastly, let’s make the creme patisserie. It’s not hard but it’s finicky! Put the cream and milk into a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Remove from heat and put a lid on it. Let it sit for about ten minutes. While it’s cooling, combine the sugar and egg yolks in a medium bowl until they are nice and…creamy? This isn’t a helpful description but use your best judgment. Stir in the flour and mix until everything is nicely combined. Now for the kind of hard part: a little at a time, mix the slightly cooled dairy into the eggy-sugary bit. Don’t go too fast or you’ll cook the eggs. Once it’s all a big yellowy blend, put everything BACK into the saucepan and return it to a medium-low heat. It will begin to thicken as you whisk at it. When there’s some resistance, remove it from the heat once more and stir in the bourbon. Put this in a wide, shallow bowl and cover with a piece of wet wax paper. This keeps it from getting a skin on top of it, like that kind from pudding cups? You know what I mean.
Once everything is cool-ish, you can make your cake. Put the bottom layer onto your cake plate, then spread on several good dollops of the jam. Next, put all that creme patisserie on top. It’ll look like kind of a lot, but that’s the general idea. Place the other layer on top, then dollop the warm-ish ganache on top. It’ll kind of ooze around and down, giving it a pleasantly unkempt look that is, in fact, its signature.
Let it stand for an hour or two so the layers can mesh together and serve.