Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Literary Eats: Captain Hook's Rich, Damp Cake

As a child, Peter Pan was one of my favorite books. It incorporated so many things I loved back then: Victorian England, a far off mystical land, being able to fly, hot lost boys (hey, it wasn't creepy at the time)--for awhile I even believed Peter Pan was real. But unlike the boy who never grew up, I did, eventually, and became interested in different, adult things: Modern London, Bali, the Fiat 500, and hot British men (helloooo Henry Cavill). One thing that has always stayed with me though was the description of a cake Captain Hook wanted to use to kill the Lost Boys:

Smee had been waiting for it. “Unrip your plan, captain,” he cried eagerly.
“To return to the ship,” Hook replied slowly through his teeth, “and cook a large rich cake of a jolly thickness with green sugar on it […] We will leave the cake on the shore of the mermaids’ lagoon. These boys are always swimming about there, playing with the mermaids. They will find the cake and they will gobble it up, because, having no mother, they don’t know how dangerous ‘tis to eat rich damp cake.”

Maybe it was because I was a chubby kid who loved food or perhaps it was simply a slow point in the story, but either way this cake captured my attention: What exactly was meant by a rich, damp cake and how could I eat one?

Now that I'm older the question has changed: How can I make one?
I did a little research regarding Victorian cake recipes and came across an online version of The Book of Household Management by Isabella Beeton, who was kind of like the Martha Stewart of her day. She came up with such revolutionary ideas as listing ingredients at the beginning of the recipe and telling readers how long they should cook something for. I also enjoyed her "General Observations" on each section, which briefly outlines the historical roots of certain ingredients and gives some helpful hints. There are a variety of cake recipes, some of which include her own opinions.

For instance, there is a recipe for A Nice Useful Cake, as well as Common Cake, which is 'suitable for sending to children at school'. Sunderland Gingerbread Nuts is "An excellent recipe", while distinctions are made between "Common" versions and "Very Good" versions of cakes. Most of the recipes described as being 'rich' contain lots of eggs, butter, and either brandy or sherry, so I deduced that such a cake must contain these things. The use of spirits would also contribute to this dampness. But, what of the green sugar? Mrs. Beeton has a recipe for sugar icing that "can be colored with strawberry or currant-juice, or with prepared cochineal." And notes that "All iced cakes should be kept in a very dry place."Well, surely the Mermaids Lagoon is anything but very dry. I guess Captain Hook knew what he was doing after all.

Rather than subject you to a Victorian cake recipe, I've modified a recipe for Sherry Wine Cake to suit our needs here today. I made it last Thanksgiving and, despite accidentally subbing vanilla pudding for vanilla pudding mix, it resulted in the richest and yes, dampest cake I've ever made. I also used a bundt cake pan, because it's just so darn easy, but I'm guessing Captain Hook didn't have one of those aboard the Jolly Roger:

Captain Hook's Rich, Damp Cake

1 box yellow cake mix
2 snack cups of Jell-O Vanilla pudding (Or Snack Pack, if you're gross)
1 c. oil
3/4 c. sherry wine
5 eggs

Preheat oven to 350

Mix all the ingredients together. Bake in a buttered-and-floured bundt pan for about 50 minutes, until the proverbial tester comes out clean.

If you feel like going all Victorian, here's the link to Mrs. Beeton's sugar icing.

Sugared Green Glaze:

1 cup powdered (confectioner's) sugar
1/2 cup sherry, or less
a couple drops of green food coloring

Once the cake is done baking, remove from oven but do NOT remove from the bundt pan. Then using a fork poke holes all over the top (or, rather bottom) of the cake. Then pour about half of the glaze over the holes and let it sit for a few minutes until it absorbs into the cake. Unmold the the cake onto a cooling rack or plate and repeat

Let it sit for another couple of minutes, just so the icing doesn't all run out. Then, unmold onto a rack with a piece of wax paper underneath to catch any drips. Then repeat the poking and glazing process again until you run out. Once the cake has cooled add another, thicker layer of glaze using more confectioner's sugar and less sherry. I'm in favor of using a bit less glaze simply because I don't like things super sweet and the cake itself is so darn good, but I'd recommend sticking to the recipe the first time and then adjusting it according to your preference afterwards. Either way, it's still delish.

Here's how it looks sans green food coloring:

You can hardly make out the glaze because I didn't have time to let it cool, but by God it's on there!
No one could eat more than a slice, but all agreed it was the moistest cake we'd ever had. It keeps pretty well too, probably because of the booze and protective layer of sugar.

I'm still not sure how Captain Hook intended to kill the lost boys with this cake, unless it was through alcohol poisoning or diabetes. Either way, the image of him toiling away in the kitchen makes me LOL and also reminds me of this.



3 comments:

Katie said...

I love rereading this. It's SUCH A GOOD POST.

Emily said...

aw thanks! I need motivation to finish that damn sample chapter.....

Unknown said...

I'd like to make this for a cast party following the last performance of Peter Pan at our community theatre but I can't put sherry in a cake that real lost boys might eat. Do you have a suggestion for a substitute?