November 8, 2010
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Orange Chiffon Cake
I bake alone. I cook alone.
When I’m in the kitchen, I don’t want anyone else hovering around me, getting in the way of my shuttling between the stove and the chopping board, the fridge and the counter, the pantry and the dustbin, the oven and the counter… God forbid that you get in the way of my knife.
I get in the zone when I’m in the kitchen. I may have a frown on my face as I grate orange zests, sigh more than a couple of times when I spill stuff, but I’m fine.
I’m more than fine actually.
I’m around food. What could be better?
Now mommy used to make mind-blowingly springy, moist, fragrantfragrantfragrant orange chiffon cake back when I wouldn’t even venture a step near the stove and when we only had a tiny convention-microwave oven. Since then, she’s started working full-time again, and I’ve all but declared utter Kitchen Domination (during the scant hours when I’m not bleeding my eyes out writing reports – which is never, now) with the arrival of the oven and sharp knives. Mommy’s been staying away from me when I’m banging pots and pans.
That was until my incessant mewling for her chiffon cake eventually tore her away from her Cantonese dramas long enough to whip together my favourite recipe of hers.
She went back to her dramas immediately after. I remained in the kitchen.
My brother wasn’t very happy that there was just half a cake left by the time he wandered into the kitchen – which then mysteriously disappeared after he left. That was a cake 10-inch in diameter, 5 inch in height mind you.
This is one of those cakes that literally beckons to you and have you plaster your face to the glass window of the oven for the entire 35-40 minutes that it is baking. Read more of this post