There’s just something about the first day of spring. The feeling of reassurance that you’ve made it through another long, dark Midwestern winter, that drinking beers on porches and croquet games will soon be underway. It’s the day where we can all shimmy out of our puffy jackets and cast our winter hats to the side because today, today you play.
I have this funny feeling about things. There’s this strange sense of hope that’s been brewing inside for awhile and now I feel like I’m practically bursting with it. New plans are afoot. I don’t know what it is, but something big is about to happen. Maybe it has something to do with the sunny skies and the first day of spring, but everything feels light. Everything feels like a bright, poppy car commercial. That despite the dreary winter, with the never-ending face-burning cold, the grim economic climate, the encroaching gray on President Obama’s head, everything is going to be ok.
When I was a kid, I wanted to get out of the Midwest – badly. I hated the rundown farms, the urban sprawl, and the plain jane-ness of it all. And winter was the worst. Every where I looked, everything was gray and wet. Then I went away for a little bit and then I grew up a little bit. Now, I understand the quiet, subtle beauty of those firm and faded farms, where the fields dip and roll along the stretches of roads and highway, how those small, ranch houses bubble up into small towns and big towns and rusty cities. It’s home to me and now I get it, I get the beauty and the quietness of everything. And I know my fifteen-year-old self is going to hate my twenty-three-year-old self for saying this, but I like it.
Yet there are times when you just need to escape. It’s always around February and March, when the gray skies and wet ground no longer hold any charming winter quality and you end up looking to the sky, begging and pleading for sun and warmth and dear God, some green.
Which is why the first day of Spring is so important. It’s the first day of promise and hope and a little bit of redemption. I, the modern day pioneer woman, made it through the wilderness of urban concrete and steel to reach the end of the season, surviving my cosmopolitan cabin fever and inner-city imprisonment.
So last weekend, with the sun streaming through the windows, playing and twisting itself into geometric shapes along my floor, I dug into Dorie Greenspan’s Baking: From My Home to Yours, to unofficially take part in Tuesdays with Dorie and more importantly, entice the ever approaching gods of spring and celebrate that we all made it through another winter.
French Yogurt Cake with Marmalade Glaze from Dorie Greenspan
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 ground almonds (or if you don’t like or don’t want to use almonds, just add another 1/2 cup flour)
2 tsps. baking powder
pinch o’ salt
1 cup sugar
Grated zest of 1 lemon
1/2 cup plain yogurt
3 large eggs
1/4 tsp. pure vanilla extract
1/2 cup oil
Preheat the oven to 350F and butter up a loaf pan.
Put the sugar and zest into a bowl and rub the zest into the sugar with your fingers until the sugar is moist and aromatic. Inhale deeply. Add the yogurt, eggs and vanilla and whisk until the mixture is well blended. Still whisking, add the flour, almonds if you’re using them, baking powder and salt. Once the dry ingredients are fully incorporated, fold in the oil. The batter will be very smooth, taste delicious, and have a slight sheen. Pour into loaf pan and bake for 50 to 55 minutes.
The cake’s edges should begin to come away from the sides of the pan and be golden brown. Let cool for a few minutes in the pan before transferring over to cool on a rack.
To make the glaze, put 1/2 cup marmalade in a small saucepan or a microwave save bowl, stir in 1 tsp. of water and heat until the jelly is hot and liquefied. Gently brush the cake with the glaze.
