Spekkoek; Indonesian Layer Cake

The warm company of my family and the day-to-day leisurely pace that I have become quite accustomed to the past months will soon be replaced with a sense of stressful urgency (a.k.a. work) as my vacation is now drawing close to an end. I get wistful whenever it is time to leave and I suppose my attempt to cling on to what is dear to me, that is, my family (with one new little guy) and my home, is to dedicate my last week in Kuala Lumpur to preparing several simple sweet and savoury favourites which are heavy on sentiment and nostalgia.

When I was a wee child, Mum used to buy this cake at quite a cost from a (rather enterprising) woman who's daughter or son attended the same school as my brother and myself. I enjoyed this occasional treat tremendously and often thought how lucky the woman's kid must be (but now I am certain the kid could have been deprived of her attention while she was busy making this labour-intensive cake to sell to the parents of luckier children, like myself, at the school). Anyway, characterised by multiple layers of moist, spring-y and tight-crumbed sponge redolent with aromatic brandy and the sweet mixture of spices, this cake - simply known as layer cake, is not just rich in taste, it makes quite a visual impact too.

Although the layer cake has many guises and names including: spekkoek, kueh legit, kuih lapis Java, thousand-layer Indonesian spice cake and Sarawak layer cake, depending on the South East Asian country it happens to be come across, they all follow the same method of preparation and may vary only slightly in flavour. Word has it that spekkoek was introduced to this part of the world by the Dutch when they were colonising the East Indies and although there is no record of a similar cake that was baked back in Netherlands during this time, the cake does bear the closest resemblance to baumkuchen which the Germans have been making with great pride for over 200 years now. But it intrigues me as to why these Dutch settlers who would have been unaccustomed to the tropical weather of this region would subject themselves to the hot, uncomfortable and lengthy process in front of a flaming spit or grill to produce the many (not quite 1000 but often more than 12) eye-catching layers of this cake and did the locals really have the luxury of resources to produce such a rich cake? Perhaps, I am being a little too cerebral here but I have to admit I get as much pleasure in knowing the origins, culture and story behind the foods I adore as I do in eating them.

My advice is to make this cake on a cold, lazy afternoon or evening in the company of a good friend, family member, or both, as it really does make it a more convivial experience. Making this cake in the absence of company is great too as it allows you a moment (somewhere close to an hour) away from life's distractions to quietly reflect on... well, life. Baking can be such a therapeutic exercise, wouldn't you agree?

When the cake has cooled completely, enjoy thin slices with a cup of warm black tea and may I suggest to eat this cake by gently removing and relishing each layer at a time, the way I did as a child and the way I still do today.

Indonesian Layer Cake

14 large egg yolks

200g sugar

2tsp vanilla extract

3 tbs brandy

300g butter, diced and softened

180g flour

1/2 tsp mixed spice

14 large egg whites

100g sugar

(makes one 18x18cm cake)

preheat oven to 180C - grill setting, place rack in the top shelf of the oven.

sift flour and mixed spice and set aside.

line the base of the baking tin with baking paper. Do not grease the sides of the tin.

beat yolks, sugar, vanilla and brandy until mixture is very thick and pale.

gradually add softened butter and beat until well combined.

fold flour and spice into this mixture and set aside.

whisk egg whites in a separate clean and dry bowl gradually adding sugar until soft shiny peaks form.

fold egg whites into the buttery mixture gently knocking as little air out of the mixture as possible.

(meanwhile, place the tin in the oven to heat... caution: tin will be very hot!!)

remove pre-heated tin from the oven (very hot!!!) and spread cake batter evenly. You may tap the tin on the kitchen counter to help distribute the mixture evenly.

cook until the top of the layer is golden brown. This takes around 5-7 minutes. Keep a close eye on it!

remove tin when the surface of the layer is brown and spread another layer of cake batter on top of this.

repeat until all the cake batter is used up.

run a knife along the edges of the cake and invert the cake onto a wire rack to cool.

remove the baking paper on the base of the cake before the cake has cooled completely.

Week in Review

beginning with bread...Since diagnosed with diabetes, dad has made quite an effort to change his diet opting for brown bread instead of his favourite supermarket soft n fluffy white. We were at the shops the other day and I almost blurted out a string of profanities when I saw the price for a 350g (so-called) sourdough loaf. But seeing how samples were generously offered, I thought I should try some before jumping to conclusions.

I was so enraged how something like that could be claimed as sourdough seeing how it lacked all the necessary characteristics: the distinct complex, sour flavour from slow fermentation, the crust thin, yet crisp and the crumb, springy moist with uneven holes.

I shook my head with disappointment and in distaste, took dad aside and promised I would make him some good low GI bread... not sourdough in particular (for the starter would take at least a week to establish) but something packed with more character and plenty of love... of course.

I produced a couple of 4-seed (flaxseed, pumpkin seed, sunflower seed and poppy seed) loaves which tasted slightly wheaty (from the wholemeal flour) and mildly sour (from the extended fermentation and slow proofing). The crumb was moist and heavy but soft with the subtle crunch of seeds and when toasted, it tasted so flavourful on its own. It was the perfect wholesome sandwich bread my dad needed and he loved it too!

the almost forgotten dessert... ok, this is a bit of a spill-over from the previous week when I attempted to make guinness chocolate cupcakes (which didn't taste extraordinarily stouty to me). I never got around to frosting them because I had run out of the necessary ingredients so as soon as they had cooled on the rack, I packed them away, wrapping the container with several layers of plastic (chocolate cakes seem to take on fridge odours quite readily) and somehow they made their way to the back of the fridge.

One afternoon after lunch, S wearing her sweetest smile asked me very politely if we could have some cake with ice-cream for dessert. I had almost completely forgotten about these cupcakes but I promise you, I am not usually this neglectful towards food!

Anyway, I gently heated 2 cupcakes and served them with a couple of scoops of vanilla ice-cream. The malty taste and slight tang of stout was slightly more pronounced this time but again, it didn't really leap out at you. Still, the both of us scarfed it down quite happily. S stopped mid-way to complain, "The ice-cream to cake ratio is wrong", but that was promptly solved with her returning to the kitchen for more ice-cream.

utter disappointment... all week I have been finding some excuse to use my new silicone moulds and when the opportunity presented itself in the form of yoghurt cake(lets), I couldn't let it past. After all, I am in complete favour of recipes that require the minimum of effort for gainly returns.

Now don't get me wrong, it had nothing to do with the recipe nor the moulds (the cakes turned out beautifully shaped with fluted edges). It has been passed down one generation to the next in France, it's the first cake most children learn how to make there, you can make it with an eye shut and I have tried it in the past with great success but for some reason, this batch turned out downright n-a-s-t-y.

Completely taken by the golden tops that were just bursting with the promise of the light and moist crumb beneath, I had to help myself to a cake when it was just cool enough to eat. How deceived I was and to describe the taste is to liken it to eating cakey soured milk curds with a slightly bitter aftertaste. Sounds disgusting, doesn't it? Well, I can assure you - it was. (I have to add, despite the flavour, the texture was great!).

The reasons behind this bitter disappointment, as I have just uncovered, are (a) the flour I used - an unbleached wheaten variety I normally reserve for bread and (b) the yoghurt used had already gone bad contrary to what the expiry date had stated. Oh well, at least we now know it was completely my fault and it had nothing to do with the recipe... and we are moving right along!

layer upon layer... this Indonesian layer cake, a planar version of the German baumkuchen will have to be my pride and joy for the week! Although time consuming, the batter is so simple to whip up and I found it quite a pleasure to make. I suppose I decided to make this because I reasoned its success would help me get over my yoghurt cakelet fiasco. It did.